It's really bizarre but my pregnancy dreams are getting so vivid it’s scary – they're becoming like mini technicolor action films. In this latest one, I dreamt that my baby had just been born but it was really, really hairy all over (seriously, think mini-gorilla like) but nobody else in the dream could see what was wrong apart from me. I woke up at three o’clock in a panic and found it really hard to get back to sleep. Nick as usual was dead to the world, snoring his head off, but I lay there thinking about the baby, hoping that everything will turn out OK (and that follicle-wise it would be normal).
Just as I’d calmed my nerves enough to fall asleep again – or to be more precise, I got so tired I couldn’t worry about anything anymore – I was woken up an hour later by my bladder telling me I had to go to the loo. I knew peeing all the time was one of the many joys of pregnancy, but I was hoping that this particular 'joy' wouldn’t begin until the baby was loads bigger. I'm guessing this is my body’s handy way of getting me used to zero sleep ready for all those night feeds later on.
Nick was away for the weekend at a work conference so I had the place to myself, which was fab. First off, I could eat exactly what and when I wanted, which was brilliant. Since I’ve been pregnant my eating habits have changed completely and I find it better to have little meals more often during the day, rather than stuffing myself at dinner, which gets tricky as Nick’s a strictly three meals a day, meat and two veg kind of man. It was also lovely not to have to battle for the remote control for once.
I invited my friend Fiona round and we had an evening watching all the programs I like on TV that make Nick cringe. Yep, think soaps, real-life documentaries, reality shows – the works – and complete with iron-giving (of course) dark chocolate and tissues for me (I’m weeping at anything sentimental these days!) and white wine for her, it was great.
On Sunday I went round to Dani’s and, after getting in a bit of nappy-changing practice (not anywhere near as gross as I’d thought, but still pretty smelly so I'm not sure how I'm going to get Nick to do it), we took Archie and Frank for a walk in the park. We spent ages at the swings – Archie had about a dozen 'just another go's before we took them to feed the ducks.
It was good fun, but it made me realise just how much hard work it is with two children as you have to watch them all the time and you can never finish a sentence – so maybe I'll just stop with the one....
Nick arrived home later with flowers and insisted on making beans on toast for tea so I could put my feet up. I could really get used to this pregnancy lark if it means being spoilt like this for the next few months.