Bank Holiday Blog Washout

I had intended to do some bank holiday blogging, but I'm afraid to say Dear Reader, frankly I just wasn't in the mood.

I had a relatively quiet weekend punctuated by a hot water trauma (£140, some cleaning of pipes and a new washer later and thankfully all resolved now) and a flying visit from Best Friend who was over from the Emerald Isle. Clearly the latter was a good, nay marvellous, punctuation! Though wouldn't positively recommend SATC2.

There was also some fun and actual games to be had with Neice 1. She is a big fan of the nativity story (no seasonal preferences for her - Baby Jesus, Mummy Mary & Daddy Joseph are important 12 months of the year - well it is the greatest story ever told). I somehow found myself explaining Herod's census to her - as a 2.5 year old I'd say she grasped it pretty well (she can count to ten afterall). The main confusion seemed to lay between the role of King David and Uncle David, which for a girl with two dolls both called Bella I was a bit surprised at.

Names are very important to Neice 1: when I told her we are having a baby she inquired "are you having a Neice 2?" Given her thirst for knowledge and her elephantine memory (lying is never a good idea as she will catch you out) I gave her our then favourite boy and girl name. Now chatterbox Neice 1 likes to go over ground regularly so instilled and inextricably linked in her little head are three facts: the baby will be X or X and it will be born when she is three. Heaven help us if we change our minds!

Overall though I felt quite stiff, frustrated and a little down this weekend. I blame the pregnancy hormones as much as my inability to make my body do very much. My emotional balance has always been delicate. Indeed, the pill sent me doo-lally (there was a particularly dramatic episode when working the tills at WHSmiths one Christmas I looked up to discover the queue snaking right round the shop whereupon I burst into tears and fled from my station to the ladies loos) so it's hardly a surprise that my emotions are yo-yoing a bit when I am actually with child.

On a brighter note our cleaner is back from her holidays - yippee! So at least for one day a week home will be sparkly and I feel less guilty for doling out chores to poor husband. Now he can just be my chauffeur and chef!