- When will I wrap up his presents? (Did it this morning before work actually; was going to do it at work until I realised that it mightn't be appropriate to wrap a book called First Time Father in front of an office-load of people who don't know I'm pregnant.)
- I have to finish writing his poem. (Did that just now to have a break from work; the last two lines were stumping me until I remembered Tree's Guage d'lang: "so happy birthday hubbie; Mr Toby Ett d'Clew; thanks for being wonderful, thanks for being you." Good eh? Thank god for made-up languages.)
- Shall I bake my usual thai chicken sausage rolls for the party or give beef burgundy pies a go? (Thinking sausage rolls actually; I'm just not sure my brain can cope with new information at the moment.)
- Just how many jumpers will it be necessary to wear in Toowoomba? (The jury's still out on this one. Mother-in-law says two and a t-shirt but I'm planning on throwing my dressing gown over the top and stubbornly sitting in front of the fire for the duration of the weekend.)
Richard's back at work. It's good to have him back but I can see he's not really into it. I can completely understand why. His brother must be constantly on his mind. We talk about him occasionally which I think is good for Richard. In my hormonal state, however, it's a bit of a struggle not to burst into tears, which I don't want to do in case I set him off and the two of us are bawling in the middle of the office, besides the fact that it might seem like strange behaviour on my part. I wouldn't be surprised if people at work had started to twig on about my condition though because I keep letting little things slip, like how tired I am. Richard's not sleeping well at the moment, unsurprisingly, nor it seems is our colleague in Marketing, who is probably stressed with work due to staffing issues over there.. We were commenting on it in a meeting the other day but I went a bit far and mentioned my umpteen trips to the toilet. I quickly added that I would then lie awake thinking about things but in truth I fall straight back to sleep and into a weird world of crazy and vivid dreams, which prevent me from getting into a decent deep sleep. The other night I was someone other than myself who was supposed to be marrying some random she'd just met and who returned home to find her landlords had moved her into a new bedroom which had a big hole in the floor, with a barrier around it, like a balcony over the lounge room. I'm glad I wasn't me because the room was rubbish. You wouldn't be able to sleep if the telly was on in the lounge. It was clearly never intended as a bedroom but the family were obviously trying to make some money by getting a lodger in.
Well, only another three or four weeks and I can come clean if I choose to do so. I haven't decided when to tell work yet but I'm sure it'll slip out soon enough. Meanwhile, we've told Toby's parents and his brother and I emailed my good friend, and green bridesmaid, Tree and told her too. She's sworn to secrecy. We also told Libbette and it's a relief that I don't have to hide it from her any more. It's difficult when you spend that much time with someone.
I'm getting a bit of a tummy. I suppose I'd better get used to that. You can't really tell when I'm wearing clothes, which thankfully I do a lot of at the moment as the weather is a bit chilly but it's only a matter of time before things stop fitting me. I tend to get into my tracksuit bottoms as soon as I get home from work, rip my bra off and just generally let it all hang out. Much more comfortable.
I've started thinking like a mother. Surprisingly sensible thoughts enter my head at inopportune moments (usually the middle of the night between a loo visit and a crazy dream), most notably "we must get a fireguard before next winter" and "how will we get the baby out of the house in the event of a fire, given that all the likely places for a fire to start are positioned between our room and the other bedrooms?" These thoughts amaze me as I've never thought anything like them before and I've no idea where they come from. It's incredible how your body and mind are programmed to become all maternal when the time comes.
I've also started talking to the baby. I've no idea whether it has ears or not yet. I'm sure it does as most of the major development is now complete but perhaps they can't actually hear yet. I shall endeavour to find out before my next post. But just in case, we've been having some chats. This morning, whilst listening to The Music on the way to work, I educated the bean on the importance of the British music scene. I then vowed to get my music situation sorted before too long so that I can have as much of a musical influence on my child as my parents had on me. I knew the words to Fleetwood Mac's Rumours album without even realising I'd ever heard the songs, such was the extent to which my mother played the record during my first couple of years of life. Unfortunately my MP3 jukebox died recently so I want one of those funky things that receives wireless signals from your PC and plays the music stored on there. Of course, that means having the computer switched on the whole time so mightn't be the best way of doing it but something has to happen. And soon.