It's been such a dreadfully long time since I've said hello and unfortunately I have no epic tale of woe or tragedy nor any novel expedition of fun and discovery to tell you. I've simply been sitting with my dear friends melancholia and no-motivation.
However things have indeed changed as four are to become five. I am up duffed, cheggers, knocked up avec une bun in the oven. Oh and before you ask yes it was indeed quite planned thank you very much although I won't bore you with the ins and outs of my plumbing and the titillating mind numbingly tmi details of my fertility or more specifically the long awaited return of it. Yes despite being planned it was somewhat of a surprise as I was convinced we'd be trying for a lot longer. This is always a good thing that i'm proved wrong as I make a rather rabidly maudlin TTC'er with obsessive tendancies.
Naturally i'm now pregzilla, worse though..pregzilla who should be on Prozac but isn't so hyper drive anxiety with all the not-so-nice mind wanderings about all that can go wrong as I'm only 5weeks and 3 days and my dating scan isn't until 11weeks and 2 days. How will I ever survive? More importantly how on earth will my dear husband survive? Afterall, he's the one that has to put up with me!.
Yet this is where my other personality comes into play, whilst the dominant one is positively drowning in the misery of worry the other half is skipping about planning what delectable and oh-so-cute cloth nappies to buy whilst drooling over slings. Yes, I'm rather 'crunchy'.
Controversially for some we have actually told The Toddler (when does a Toddler stop being a Toddler?) and The Child that there is a baby inside mummy's tummy which has consequently led to some rather interesting tea time conversations by an over inquisitive child who's absolutely fascinated at the whole idea of mummy and daddy making a baby and how it actually happened.
Unfortunately this hasn't affected my appetite which has now gone from over eating into I am a piggy pig, the piggiest of all the pigs.
Alas The Husband has declared that this is our last and final baby, ever. Conversation is turning once again to the old knob and two bricks idea. Now that is crunchy (and oddly youtube worthy, don't you think?)
Fuck. I'll have to actually think about getting my degree in a few years then. Shitsticks.