Flaming June. Isn’t that the saying? I can currently only hear Alf Stewart from Home and Away and his ‘flaming galahs’ in my head, but I think June is meant to flame as much as Alf’s birds.
At the moment I flit between wanting a summer as glorious as last year’s, and very much not. Extreme heat and late pregnancy are not a match made in heaven, and I imagine that if we were to have a heatwave, I would have to spend it indoors on the sofa, consuming even more ice than I am currently snaffling.
In recent weeks, I have developed a full-blown ice addiction. The frozen water kind not the drug kind. Ice lollies, ice pops and slush puppies, but mainly plain old ice cubes that I slurp from drinks and crunch into oblivion at record speed, while everyone around me winces.
Of course, lolling about on the sofa crunching ice to my heart’s content would be a lovely way to spend the rest of my pregnancy – heatwave or not. But it is a highly unlikely scenario with our beloved now-two year old (!) Mr Ted in the mix.
I expected that running after a toddler in the third trimester of pregnancy would be exhausting, and so far, it hasn’t been TOO bad, even with an injury (more about that below). But my energy levels are waning.
I might soon have to resort to planning out my Ted days with military precision and ensuring that they involve LOTS of sitting down for me. Short of strapping Ted in his buggy for 10 hours though (somewhat frowned upon), or maybe taking him to bingo (he would LOVE it, given his numbers obsession, although I don’t imagine he’d enjoy being cooed over by old ladies), I’m not sure there are many toddler-friendly days out that involve lots of sitting?
My friend recommended taking him on the bus to a nearby shopping centre and back again, with a café stop in between. This sounds right up my street; I might try it next week.
If I’m honest, I’m starting to feel trepidation (trepidatious?) about the months ahead. Obviously I’m lucky that mum and dad give me lots of Ted-free time, which I’m currently even more grateful for. But if I’m complaining about being knackered now, with only one little Ted to take care of, what the heck am I going to be like in three months’ time?
I know some people find pregnancy to be an awful experience, to the point where actually having the baby, and all of the sleeplessness and general newborn fog that comes with it, feels like relief. It did not feel like that with Ted.
After a smooth pregnancy, albeit with the inevitable knackeredness and discomfort towards the end, I got the shock of my life when he arrived.
At least I am more prepared this time. All I can do is accept that I will go from this constant, low-level tiredness of the next two months, to ridiculous, what’s-my-name-again, what-day-is-it, what-year-is-it levels of tiredness for the next year or so. Hurray.
(Bloody hell, forget those ‘lifelike’ crying dolls they give to teenagers to look after in a bid to put them off having sex. Just let them read this post and no-one will procreate again, ever.)
ANYWAY. Although I don’t sound it, I AM very excited about the new arrival, and I’m sure we will cope and it will all be fine. Honestly.
The last two weeks have been tricky, and have perhaps made me feel a bit more apprehensive than normal about the impending new arrival because I took a tumble down the knacking stairs one morning while carrying Ted. OUCH.
I only slipped on the last few steps, and Ted was fine. But I landed on my bum and sitting down was, and sometimes still is, very painful.
I can only be grateful that baby seems fine too, and that my fall wasn’t worse and didn’t happen closer to my due date. (I am really quite concerned about how it could have affected labour/delivery, and a bit worried that it still might…. But we’ll wait and see, and hope that my sore bottom continues to heal.)
On a much less whiny note, our wonderful boy turned two last week! YIKES. We had a gorgeous day out on a nearby farm, followed by tea at a lovely Italian restaurant with my mum and dad and sister and brother-in-law.
We’d taken Ted to the farm once before, over a year ago, and he didn’t pay much attention to it. This time, he ran about like a loon and loved the ginormous horses and the goats.
Two years old! Wowser. He is an absolute delight, and becomes funnier by the day as his vocabulary grows. He says ‘whopper’ when he attempts to eat an overloaded spoonful of porridge, or rice, or yoghurt (as my dad taught him), and says ‘grandma number 6’ – because my parents live at number 6, OBVIOUSLY.
I could go on, but I’m putting it all in the Ted dictionary I mentioned last time. (Not really.)
And as for me, I am pretty good, despite all of the woes I outlined above. Work stuff and my writing has been inconsistent, due to various holidays in May (our own rainy break and my parents going away a couple of weeks ago), which has meant less work time for me, but what can you do?
My second paid writing commission took a long time to complete, after taking a different angle than I first planned for. I am still awaiting feedback (and payment) on it, but I received the payment for my first piece and was pretty chuffed about it – my first paid job in this next phase of my career. Small steps and all that….
I am still pressing on with my writing on the blog, and growing my Instagram account, which sometimes feels like an impossible task. I just need to remember to enjoy it and not take any of it too seriously. (If you’re on Instagram and don’t yet follow me, please do!)
Anyway, that’s enough wittering for one day – my bum is hurting and my eyesight is going a bit skewiff (a pregnancy symptom that I had last time too, where I struggle to switch between short and long vision – looking at my phone then looking at the telly is a bit like taking hallucinogenic drugs. I imagine!….*hi mum*…)
Thank you for reading and bye for now x
Hello, I'm Laura. I write about parenting, life, style, building a business and finding success on your own terms.
You'll find plenty here to get your teeth into. (Useless pun very much intended...) X
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