Oh God. I've started to waddle. I have officially hit the lumbering, uncomfortable, "Could somebody please help me with my socks" phase of pregnancy. Once again, it caught me unawares. You'd think that having done this before, I'd know the drill, but no, unlike dolphins and those dogs that help find missing children, I am not one of God's brighter creatures. At the moment, I am relating more with my bovine sisters, happy to graze all day and snooze when the mood strikes.
Of course this had to happen during moving week when I have exactly five days to pack up everything we own and clean our entire apartment from top to bottom. In fact, up until this very instant, I've been greatly looking forward to this week! My nesting instincts, which go wild during pregnancy, have been in full swing since before the stick turned blue (well, purple actually) and the thought of filling up boxes and (sigh!) labelling them with colour coded markers and then scrubbing every square inch of the place has had me salivating for months!
The excitement I felt when buying a new cream cleanser the other day was practically obscene and I almost had to leave the grocery store for fear of embarassing myself!
Now suddenly, tiny babs has nestled itself snugly into the lower portion of my uterus causing me to spend half my life slowly making my way to the toilet, and the other half peeing for Ireland. Bending over is becoming nigh on impossible and the distance from my home I can comfortably travel on foot is rapidly shrinking.
Add to that the fact that Big Babs (a.k.a the Snot Queen) has decided to once again forego napping in favour of being a demon child and my Awesome Plans for Organisation are being threatened before they've even began!
I'll keep you posted...