I would like to say that the weekend was restful…
I think maybe reading the week by week information midwives give you is not a good idea. This week it focused on some sort of pelvic problem. I think this is the same problem I had last time round and which the midwife said I might very likely get this time. In fact, as soon as I read about it I kind of felt my body start to creak. I had been putting the fact that I can no longer move with the agility of a cat [okay, I never moved with the agility of a cat] down to the fact that I am an ancient mother this time round. However, I think there may be something more to it. Unfortunately, I have no time to get the pelvic problem and am envisaging doing the school pick-up as a crawl. The one positive note is that on Friday I finally qualified for statutory maternity leave. I now just have to keep earning until the SMP kicks in.
I had planned a good rest at the weekend as this seems to help with the joints. However, in addition to the usual sleepovers by big girl daughter, we were joined at 7am on Sunday by bonkers daughter who then proceeded to ask me to do a healthy eating quiz. This goes along the lines of "What is healthier: an apple or a packet of crisps?" except it has now gone on to a far advanced level as bonkers and big girl daughters know their healthy eating rules [even if they never ever abide by them]. We now have questions such as "Which is healthier: a pancake covered in syrup or Angel Delight?" which even I am not sure of the answer to. All the while that the quiz was ensuing, bonkers daughter was getting increasingly excited which is bad news if you are pregnant and squashed into a small space where the potential for being kicked or jumped on is high.
The day progressed with phone calls from relatives checking on my brother who is on the Argentine/Chile border and felt the quake, but was fortunately far enough away to have not been affected.
There followed stories for big girl daughter, a round of mummies and babies [I was big sister and the midwife], Scrabble and Monopoly [when is the best age to do Monopoly? The game ended rather abruptly with the bonkers one rolling in the money in a fit of giggles. Rebel daughter was not amused. She calls bonkers daughter "the most annoying person in the entire world"].
I was then dragooned into a "walk" with the two smallest members of the family and their entourage. My partner was watching the football. Normally a walk in the countryside should entail wellies, scarves, hats and coats. Bonkers daughter went out in a ra-ra skirt, spotted tights, cowboy boots and a rucksack packed with babies. She was wheeling a pushchair with another baby inside. Big girl daughter was sensibly dressed, but had decided to bring along a baby, some library books and a notepad. Just in case. I was ordered to walk behind bonkers daughter in case one of her babies fell out of the rucksack. We returned home to homework [rebel daughter’s is getting a bit more taxing; bonkers daughter finds the concept of homework hard to understand; big girl daughter is upset she doesn’t have more homework] and the whole end of the weekend routine. In between trying to grapple with fractions and teaching division using coins to a small person whose mind is on higher things, I was fielding ethical questions from my partner who was completing some sort of paper for work and, of course, cooking the dinner, feeding the guinea pigs and administering medicine to the cat.
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