I had a lovely night on Friday. I caught up with my oldest school friends - by that I mean I've known them a long time not that they are particularly old. Just to be clear.
One of them is pregnant and so my friend Lucy and I couldn't help but give our poor unsuspecting pal the benefit of our wisdom and experience. It was mid-way through describing the changes 'down there' that followed Eliza's birth that I realised I had not found people's birth stories particularly useful when I was expecting. Poor girl. She's made of strong stuff though so I suspect she weathered it pretty well. She looks gorgeous and blooming, you know the real glow that some pregnant women get? She has it. I recalled that I just put on weight and looked a bit crap most of the time during both mine, but not Kate. She looks happy and healthy.
I was reminded of when Tilly was born, 3 hours in all and a very peaceful entrance to the world (smug moi?). I think that's why she's been (mostly) a very peaceful and placid child. However that appears to be changing every day.
Take Friday for example..
"Come on then Mouse let's get your bib on." I was about to serve up porridge.
"No!"
"Bib on, come on Tilly."
"No! No bib on." Righto, never mind what's another porridge splodged pyjama top between mother and daughter.
"She always wears a bib when Jane* is here Mummy." Says Eliza helpfully.
"Really? Yes I suppose she does." In much the same way that Eliza quite happily has her hair in a pony tail with Jane or wears jeans with Jane (she only ever tolerates a clip and it's only dresses with me.)
The conversation moved on.
"Mummy lap! Mummy lap!"
Ah how sweet she wants to sit on my lap. "Come on then darling, sit on Mummy's lap."
Naturally I had forgotten about the porridge welded to her top that was then transferred to mine (I had to work on Friday and forgot about the porridge until I was in the first meeting.)
She then started to eat my toast. So I went to work having had no breakfast but covered in Tilly's. Lovely.
One of them is pregnant and so my friend Lucy and I couldn't help but give our poor unsuspecting pal the benefit of our wisdom and experience. It was mid-way through describing the changes 'down there' that followed Eliza's birth that I realised I had not found people's birth stories particularly useful when I was expecting. Poor girl. She's made of strong stuff though so I suspect she weathered it pretty well. She looks gorgeous and blooming, you know the real glow that some pregnant women get? She has it. I recalled that I just put on weight and looked a bit crap most of the time during both mine, but not Kate. She looks happy and healthy.
I was reminded of when Tilly was born, 3 hours in all and a very peaceful entrance to the world (smug moi?). I think that's why she's been (mostly) a very peaceful and placid child. However that appears to be changing every day.
Take Friday for example..
"Come on then Mouse let's get your bib on." I was about to serve up porridge.
"No!"
"Bib on, come on Tilly."
"No! No bib on." Righto, never mind what's another porridge splodged pyjama top between mother and daughter.
"She always wears a bib when Jane* is here Mummy." Says Eliza helpfully.
"Really? Yes I suppose she does." In much the same way that Eliza quite happily has her hair in a pony tail with Jane or wears jeans with Jane (she only ever tolerates a clip and it's only dresses with me.)
The conversation moved on.
"Mummy lap! Mummy lap!"
Ah how sweet she wants to sit on my lap. "Come on then darling, sit on Mummy's lap."
Naturally I had forgotten about the porridge welded to her top that was then transferred to mine (I had to work on Friday and forgot about the porridge until I was in the first meeting.)
She then started to eat my toast. So I went to work having had no breakfast but covered in Tilly's. Lovely.
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