Thursday, 2 August 2012

Do not ask. No. I have not. It turns out that you cannot tell an unborn child when to be born. This is irritating. I am honestly not lying when I truly thought I had such power. It is ridiculously frustrating that I was wrong. As you know I am never wrong so it has been a total shock to the system. As well as an all over pain as the baby is now very big, I am unable to walk with my legs even vaguely together and every time I roll over, pick up anything, bend over etc I make a massively unattractive grunting noise. My mood is vile. There is no other way to describe it.

I really thought I had made Ted come out on the day I wanted with various resting, blanket knitting (I refused to finish the blanket until 10.30pm on the 31 August to ensure he didn't come until the 1st as I wanted) and finally a curry. I used acupuncture and a helpful midwife giving me a membrane sweep to get G out and I thought that by doing all of these things over a few days it would surely make the baby come out according to my timetable. So. Lesson learnt. Acupuncture, reflexology (2 sessions), walking, making exciting plans,  membrane sweeps, sexing, pineapple, curry, long walks, organising everything, shopping etc etc do not have any bearing whatsoever on when you will go in to labour. I hope this helps you all. Annoyingly I have had two false starts where I 'enjoyed' 3-4 hours of contractions which then stopped. That is magnificently depressing. Thinking you are at the end and then having to carry on the next day still pregnant and in pain is the pits.

So, on the plus side, I got to enjoy the Olympic Opening Ceremony undisturbed by my own opening ceremony. I have realised the  problem with me is that I am not particularly patriotic. Plus, as we all know, I'm not really particularly sporty. I like to watch tennis and figure skating but I'm not exactly a sports fan. So, I was not enthralled by the Opening spectacle. It was nice and all, don't get me wrong, and I'm sure the whole 'brief history of Britain' will be incredibly useful to get the majority of children through their history GCSE, but I didn't feel emotional watching it all. I didn't feel proud or indeed proud to be British. I don't really see how you can feel pride in someone else's work. I had nothing to do with it all and just because I was born in Britain doesn't mean that I feel pride in other Britains.. I like Britain obviously, I am extremely glad I live here as I like the climatet, I speak the language quite well, there are no civil wars going on, we have more than enough food and water and, as was pointed out rather emphatically in the ceremony, we have the NHS. But, if I were French I would probably be equally as happy there. And I'd be more stylish and I'd speak French properly, not just random words I mix with English ones. Same is true for quite a few countries actually. I doubt if I was born and lived in Barbados I would have watched the opening ceremony and heartily wished I was living in South East London. So, I don't get people crying as they watch the ceremony, i don't understand why it was chosen to mark the very deprived NHS in an extravagnt and hideously expensive Olympic opening ceremony (surely rubbing salt in an already infected wound?) and I'm not sure why it had to start so late. I know I like to be in bed early and not everyone shares that lifestyle choice but 9pm? It wasn't a club. Why couldn't they have begun earlier? It would still have been dark by the time they got to the fireworks and lit up beds. I DID like the light up pillows and duvets and the children jumping on the trampoline beds, but I was very concerned about how late it was for the jumping children and how they should have been in their actual beds, asleep and that what with their journey home etc it was going to be an incredibly late night for them. My favourite part of the whole thing was watching the Queen's face. I know, just by the look, that she and I were thinking the same thing. We're old, we're tired, we're not really big fans of Mr Bean and we'd much rather be in bed with a cup of tea. Luckily for me I didn't have to be there and was at least able to go to bed whenever I liked, she had to stay there for the whole thing.

As much as I found the lead up to the Olympics slightly irritating it turns out that it has actually had little affect on my life as a whole. It appears that people have taken the whole 'end of the world, keep out of London' signs literally and driving around is now rather pleasant. I went to a BBQ on Sunday at Sporty Godmother's house and it took half the time it normally would have done. The BBQ was a welcome distraction to pottering around the house being pissed off. I think Bea and K were very relieved to be in company too. What with my moaning about missing the boys, annoying and inconsequential contractions, being too big, being too uncomfortable, being hot, being tired etc it came as a welcome break to be with normal and jolly people and with good food. Plus I discovered who on earth would download the Olympic Opening Ceremony music. AS I was told it was available for download on the TV it did worry me that there were people out there who would do such a thing and there she was, a lovely school friend, right in front of me, saying she had already downloaded the album. Mystery solved. I should admit that I have got quite 'in to' wathcing some of the Olympic coverage. Turns out synchronised diving is totally amazing. I mean, it is incredible. I would have thought it was a physical impossibility if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. I have watched the male and female events. The bodies of the Italian female divers were totally awe inspiring. I don't know if their swimming costumes were cut better or they were just fantastically 'fit' in the looking sense but it was amazing. No offence to China, I know they are diving masters, but they have a long way to go on the body front. I hope Italy can take comfort in that - they didn't win a medal but they should have got a 'highly commended' for looking the best. In my world that counts for a lot. Also gymnastics is fantastically fun to watch. That bar they all fall off - so fun! I even got Bea in to watching it as we both sat there waiting for someone to fall off the bar (particularly if it is a full on straddle fall) or when they come off the parallel bar thingys  they swing from - they even have a designated man who keeps swooping in to catch them if they fall every time they do a complicated move - the suspense really adds something to the whole event. Unfortunately I don't know all the technical terms for the equipment yet so I hope you know what I mean.  I know we think the vault is the dullest part - the chances for error were minimal and no one hurt themselves.

I shall leave you with good news. My Maternity Leave will be officially over this afternoon as K is leaving work at lunch time and driving to Suffolk to get me back my boys! I am SO over excited. It has been ten days. TEN WHOLE DAYS without them. I never thought it would be so long.  The break has been nice in that I have had lots of rest and sleep, Bea has had a useful insight in to life as an only child (she insists it is preferable - traitor), and I have got to the bottom of my washing and ironing pile but I really have missed them. It is amazing how quickly you get used to not having them around and no doubt I shall be amazed by how quickly I will be annoyed by them being back in the house, but I do prefer it when we are all together. I don't like being a fragmented family.  Also, the health visitor who is coming to check 'all is well' at my house of child torture, left a message for me to call her back and I have yet to do so as I just feel that me saying 'actually I haven't seen the suspected abuse victim since his arm was put in plaster' would not go down that well on the scale of good parenting practise. So, I think, get the suspected abused child back, get his cast off  (appointment tomorrow am) and then ring her and assure her 'all is well'. I have already decided that I could explain away the delay in my response to her message by blaming it on my mobile voicemail service being up the spout. So. As of tonight I shall be back at the helm and although I am slightly concerned over my ability to cope, I am looking forward to having all the beds filled. There is also the excitement of surprising G with his 'new look' room. In his absence the bunk beds have arrived and his and Bea's room has been totally transformed. (I also threw away an awful lot more toys and general detritus from their room which has been incredibly pleasing). I think the excitement of the new beds and room layout will get me at least a few hours of entertainment. I hope. My mother has provided constant entertainment, craft activities and excursions for the last ten days and I'm a little scared that the allure of Sky TV and a new bed will wane far quicker than I suspect. I would say that the arrival of their new baby might give them a bit of excitement but I am not convinced this is the 'coming out' type of baby. As my mother KEEPS telling me, she was two weeks late with all four of us, which is totally unhelpful. Firstly it is massively irrelevant as I have been three days late with the three I have already had and secondly, telling an already miserable woman that she may have another week to go is just silly. I am unlikely to welcome the idea.

Yet again I shall bid you farewell and hope that at some point in the near future I will divide neatly in to two people and although I will still be crying at some adverts and most films, be exhausted and overwhelmed with tiredness, I will finally not be pregnant and the joy of that should counteract some of the more negative aspects of having a new  baby. I will, as ever, let you know.

Ciao xxxxxxxx

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