In retrospect, getting pregnant within three minutes of arriving in Cornwall was perhaps a little on the hasty side, as it's come to my attention that lumbering pregnant women are all but useless at renovating stinky old houses.
So for example, I can get on to the floor to unscrew floorboards, which is helpful, but then I can't get up again, which isn't.
I can cut up old carpet with a Stanley knife, but only for about ten minutes, after which I have to whinge extensively about how much my back hurts.
I can walk to the shop to buy milk, but only at 0.0007 miles per hour, meaning that by the time I return, the milk has gone off in the relentless summer sun (curse you, relentless summer sun!).
I can carry stuff from the car into the house, as long as the stuff is made of paper or cotton wool or balloons, and not from wood or metal or china or anything remotely useful.
I can pull up weeds in the garden, but only until I see worms, at which point I have to squeal 'ewww, worms!' and run away - oh wait, that one has nothing to do with being pregnant and everything to do with being a namby-pamby ex-city-dweller.
There's one skill that hasn't deserted me due to my enormous bulk, though. I'm still very good at nagging. Nagging - or the repetition of unpalatable truths, as I prefer to think of it - barely hurts my back at all. And what's more, because I'm female and can multi-task, I find that I'm quite capable of nagging expertly at the same time as standing around cradling a cup of tea and a Digestive biscuit. While Mr BC scales ladders, paints ceilings, shifts mammoth wardrobe pediments from room to room, and heaves great boxes of flatpack garden furniture hither and thither.
All of it wrongly, of course.
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25 comments:
that sounds idyllic.
how long have you left before your peaceful existence is shattered?
Another three months EXACTLY.
But when that happens, you won't need to buy milk.
"getting pregnant within three minutes of arriving in Cornwall"
Blimey... will you be naming the child Saltash.
We came by car - just like Mary and Joseph - so it's more likely to be Launceston. Although that's more of a boy's name.
I really thought that said 'great boxes of flapjack'.
Flapjack furniture, mmm....
Pregnancy is an excellent excuse to refrain from all DIY and housework, I say. Get yourself a nice brew and some flapjack furniture and rest those swollen ankles immediately! Every now and then, clasp your bump and say pitifully, "Ooh, the baby needs a Solero." It worked for me.
Suggest you take up ikebana with the off-cuts of your contorted willow tree, thereby achieving a zen-like state while Mr BC sorts out the feng-shui of your (beautiful) new home.
It sounds to me as if you also need to work on the skill of fingerpointing, an essential companion to any diy related nagging if it is going to be done right the first time.
Gosh, I must be pregnant, as that's what I'm like most of the time. Except for the milk from the shop bit.
Oh, hush with your 'relentless summer sun'. Grumble.
PLEASE enjoy your last few months of pregnancy! Put your feet up!. Chill out (whatever that means) and just don't worry about housework, gardening, whatever. You and BC will have the next 16 years of busyiness!
XXX
your job, at the moment, is to drink tea and eat digestive biscuits. (or maybe branch out and try a hobnob). i'm an expert, y'know.
My two theology degrees and extensive study of the literature leads me to believe that Mary was pregnant before getting in the car, so your analogy fails, I am afraid.
"Regarding the fetal response to exercise, evidence to date has suggested fetuses of exercising women may tolerate labour better than those of non-exercisers."
Paisley TS, Joy EA, Price RJ. Exercise during pregnancy: Apractical approach. Curr Sports Med Rep 2003;2:325–30.
"Women should not scuba dive in pregnancy, as the fetus is not protected for decompression sickness and gas embolism."
Camporesi EM. Diving and pregnancy. Semin Perinatol 1996;20(4):292–302.
"Women are cautioned about the potential for loss of balance and fetal trauma if they participate in horseback riding, downhill skiing, ice hockey, gymnastics and cycling during pregnancy."
Artal R. Exercise during pregnancy: Safe and beneficial formost. The Physician and Sports Medicine 1999; 27(8).
See? Nothing wrong with moving wardrobes about. This is simply an unpalatable truth. Nag Nag Nag.
Mmm, great boxes of flapjack.
Thank you everyone for your advice. I shall now drink tea and eat biscuits in the relentless summer sun* while artfully arranging the garden detritus into restful Japanese configurations and exercising by repeatedly pointing my finger.
* I exaggerated somewhat about the summer sun: it's been quite cloudy and miserable this week.
I worry you are unwittingly falling into a cunning trap.
Having ensured your quite rightful major-scale incapacity through pregnancy, Mr BC now has an excuse to get out of keeping it tidy for the REST OF YOUR LIVES.
This is how male minds work. Trust me.
Make the most of your restful tea and biscuits because in exactly two months and three weeks time, you'll be dragging Mr BC around the shops crying "But are 36 bibs going to be enough?!!"
"Another three months EXACTLY.
June 03, 2008 12:02 PM"
We will all be expecting a blog post all about The Birth and The Little Baby Kitten by 1pm (latest)on September 3rd.
No pressure, like.
(Off topic, but did you see Dr Ben in the Grauniad on Sat? Summary - Bloggers 1: Real Media 0. Which we all know anyhow, but Now Officially Scientifically Proven.)
I'm expecting blog posts throughout labour, never mind a birth announcement (Mr BC has to have something to do during the whole process surely?)
Don't worry about me, I'm taking some Warhammer figures to paint. In the quieter moments, Patroclus can help me choose dwarven shield designs or something, keep her mind occupied.
Boz: It will be a small price to pay for the fact that Mr BC has been single-handedly dealing with the cat's idiosyncratic effluvia for the last six months.
Janey: Oh god, I hadn't even *thought* about bibs!
Spin: I will do my best. Plus I have just dug out that article and it's fab - others can read it here. Recognition for the bloggers at last!
Smat: I'll make sure he takes his iPod Touch and a portable wi-fi picocell, just in case the hospital - sorry, 'birthing centre' - doesn't have wi-fi installed.
James: You must also take a big book, to block out the whole gory spectacle. A nice large-format role-playing game would be ideal. Also headphones.
anything to prevent the "I'm bored, I've got a headache, I want to go home" I was subjected to by Mr Smat is good.
Mr Smat was probably angling for a shot of pethidine - I think it can resolve all those issues at once.
hmm, I fail to see why you view any of this as a problem
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