I have a short attention span. I am impatient. When I want something, I want it like... yesterday.
So to be sat here, uncomfortable, huge (well, to me anyway), and 34 weeks pregnant is more than a little frustrating. I want it to be over. My body doesn't work like it used to. I can't tie my shoelaces, I can't wear nice clothes, I can't walk very fast, I can't walk very far, I can't let the dog off the lead in case I can't catch him, I can't stand for longer than about 10 minutes, and I can't eat so many of my favourite foods.
I am getting increasingly frustrated when I bump into anyone I know, and they talk to my navel (it's flat, but not turned inside out yet), or, even worse, touch the bump. In what way is it socially acceptable to touch me? It's a hideous invasion of my personal space. I don't like it at all. You wouldn't walk up to a bloke with a beer gut, touch it, poke it, rub, it, patronise it as if it weren't attached to its owner and then be on your merry way, would you? The fact that anyone thinks that touching me is acceptable is hideously sexist, in my opinion. Just wait until you are invited to touch. The only person who's allowed to touch is the person that helped make the baby! So unless you are Mal, back away slowly!
I still have some serious amounts of nesting to do. I fear that tomorrow's job will be excavating the under-stairs cupboard. Hopefully I can complete it before my attention span reaches its limit and the job is left half done (this is a habit of mine that drives Mal up the wall. He deserves credit for putting up with it. I shall tell you about "Mal-Brain" sometime though: that makes our relationship a two-way street).
I shall let you know how I get on.
