Good morning Speckle!
Its Friday. And your dad, I and you are off to New Zealand tonight for a holiday. Brief sojourn before we head back to Brisvegas and our old house before you come along. I’m looking forward to it. I think you’ve got the excitement down there as you have been turning somersaults this morning. Or maybe you’d be doing that anyways? Who knows? you can’t talk yet. I guess it will be a while.
This week I’ve been a mixture of strangely calm inside and panicked in my mind about you coming VERY SOON, while at the same time being a bit, lah di dah, it will all work out. And feeling grumpy and generally very tired again. But still strangely calm. Hormones. They do strange things to you. Guess what? Its PAST HALF WAY. I was kinda ignoring it but coming down in the lift at work the other day I just had a bling, tah-dah moment, when I suddenly realised that it really was only just over 4 months and you’d be joining us. And we will be changing nappies, and trying to breastfeed you and cope with little sleep and you’d be cute and I guess I’d love you ’cause you were mine and “OH MY GOD”. Then I got distracted alternately by how famished I was and how much the person in front of me annoyed me and I promptly felt fine and forgot the panic.
I had to buy some maternity clothes last week, as the only clothes that were fitting were skirts which I just left undid and wore longer tops with. And new bras as each of my boobs are now as big as rockmelons and just as heavy and the bras I bought at 2 months pregnant just don’t fit anymore. Unfortunately that is not an exaggeration. Expensive but necessary. In the clothes department also I decided it was getting a little too much, and went and bought some new maternity pants and skirts. Coupled with the tent-like shirts that are in fashion at the moment I think I’ll be fine until you come now. You’re supposedly around 19 cm long this week and you’re just going to get bigger. As am I. By the way, the investment was worth it. I never thought I’d look forward to putting on ribbed material around my waist, but fashion statement or not, it is SOO much more comfortable than anything else and I never get out of it now. Good. So next week I’ll be alternately cycling round central Otago wearing slightly too small bike pants (didn’t upgrade those to maternity) and lounging in my oh-so-comfortable stretch-waist maternity jeans. Look out central Otago, you won’t know what has hit you!
Otherwise I’m starting to think we should be thinking about buying some stuff for you. We’ve got a cot, and we have a change table, but that’s about it. No, we have a bottle which someone left at our house once when their baby was little. So: one stolen bottle, one cot, one change table. What else do we need for you? We are going to get a pram this week in New Zealand, as the Mountain Buggy one we want is made there and is quite a bit cheaper. I guess we’ll need some clothes and nappies and the like too. I think it would be great to have a nappy service for a while – that might be kinda helpful. It would be good to have that taken care of for a while. My book suggested I could ask people just contribute to that rather than buying me flowers. I’ll get your dad to investigate.
How many clothes do you need? A friend from work sent me a link to a baby site that she recommended for basic jumpsuits and the like but I’m a bit confused as to what I should buy. Maybe I should buy a few so you have something to wear and then we can work it out after that? I don’t know. It will be winter, so you won’t be able to go nude. Actually, I forgot, your dad and I bought a baby change bag and a few blankets for babies in the January sales. So maybe we can just swaddle you in blankets and push you around for the winter. With some spare blankets and a camera in the baby change bag. Then you can go nude in summer. Really, it scares me how little idea either of us have. Consoling is the fact that everyone who has a baby seems to cope somehow. So I’m sure we’ll work it out and make some mistakes and whatnot but somehow muddle through. I am reminded of the time I was sent home from school in Grade one, six years of age, with a note for my father: “Please make sure <Mum> wears underpants under her school dress/skirt; cross-legged reading sessions require this”. Or words to that effect. Yep, I missed some undies some days. Nonetheless I think I worked out ok, I only occassionally forget them now.
Hope you’re well down there and enjoying the good food I’ve been eating. You must be growing as I am once again ridiculously hungry.
love and kisses
p.s. your dad is now researching thingy bits that attach to the toilet so we can clean your nappies. Little Squirt. We thought they looked a bit expensive and then read the bit about them being toddler-tamper proof and decided that it might be worth it rather than a do-it-yourself option. He he.
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