Forget what this baby’s doing to your life, what’s she going to do to our catchline?

I know this seems pretty bloody obvious now that we’re somewhere between a few hours and five weeks from the birth of Kim’s One For The Country, but very soon we’re not going to be the tired, cranky and retail-deprived working mothers of five-and-a-half kids, are we?

I love that catchline, Kim. I really love it. It appeals to every writerly and PRflacky impulse in me. It makes me smile every time I read it, even now. It has charm. It has cadence. It has quirk. I really, really, really, really love it.

I’ve been in denial ever since you hit the six month mark and so put us past the five-and-a-half kids and well into the five-and-two-thirds. You see the problem, don’t you? It just doesn’t work.

Then came the five-and-three-quarter kids, then the five-and-eight-ninths… I’ve been trying to tamp down this panicky feeling but it’s really taking me to – Kramer style – a baaaaaad place, Jerry.

Then you say to me today that judging by Felix’s overdueness you’ve might have another five weeks to go and for a few minutes that five weeks actually felt like a long time.

But it’s not, Kim. It’s not.

If you run through to 42 weeks, and I’m rounding off here in all calculations, that still means you are putting us currently at five-and-nine-tenths children.

Tired, cranky and retail-deprived as we are, we need to talk.

I can see only one solution. You know where I’m going here, don’t you?

You just have to hold it in, hon. Use those pelvic floor muscles like you’ve never used them before. Midwife says push, you say, hell no.

It’s a good catchline, Kim. It would be a shame to lose it for a little thing like birth.