And if my immense form wasn’t a marker, other ways I know I am heavily pregnant…

I really really really want to take up quilting.
That and make one of those cute as a button hats Suse is knitting over at her place. As in, I want to knit.
I can do neither of these.
I struggle to even find a needle in this house, let alone own a sewing machine or knitting needles.
I know that if I knitted, part of the attraction for me would be accumulating different wools in different colours and textures.
Actually doing something with them is a completely different story.
As I attempted to supervise the boys homework last night, with a FULL ON I’M A TODDLER NOW! carrying on a song, I realised what a pipe dream all of this is.
Along with writing the novel that is going to make us rich and me famous and mean I don’t ever have to ‘work’ – as in wage-earner work – again.
Seriously, doing Felix’s reader with him last night involved the FOUR of us on the lounge, Jasper with his Where’s Spot (and the ensuing tantrums because WHY ISN’T THERE A FLAP TO OPEN ON THIS PAGE is worth all the rage you can muster), Oscar’s with a FREAKIN’ Star Wars chapter book he brought home from Library and Felix trying to do his reader. Ridiculous. It’ll be a whole new challenge when I’m trying to breastfeed a newborn in there as well.

Because I think silly little thoughts that I then mull over for the better part of, oh, HOURS.

Because I’m seriously considering writing a letter to the education department for a real, legitimate explanation as to why it is necessary or appropriate for YEAR 2 (as in, they’re aged 6-8) to do public speaking or be able to present to the class on their favourite poem or – as is this week’s task – their favourite artist. What the!?!
My main recollections from Year 2 are that I had Mrs Bramhall who had and insisted on calling me Kimberley, learning that Saturday was spelt with a ‘ur’ not an ‘er’ by cheating from my best friend Belinda, who sat in front of me, and remembering it because I was so ashamed I was cheating. I mean, that’s about it. So why the hell is it now expected for second graders to be public speakers? I’m so confused.

That the fact before we had cleaners (which we haven’t had for the better part of a year because I was so sick of the reality they didn’t clean as well as I did. Sure, they did it every week which was a record I’m never going to break but they were just so slap-dash) I never ever had any mould in any of the bathrooms. But that during the time we had cleaners, mould developed and now – of course – I can’t get rid of it.

That my love of baking takes on obsessive qualities.

That even my maternity clothes no longer fit.