Waddle waffles

It occurs to me that some of the funniest things that have gone on recently have not (due to reasons of flu) made it on to the blog. I guess it's time to rectify this :-)

Before I go any further, remember this kid isn't quite at the six month mark yet! You betcha I'm more than a bit alarmed at what's in store for the last three months...

Each night he's in 'bed' position, ie head down, baby lying on his side with one arm tucked up, and legs semi-flexed up by my ribs. Because he's lying so much to the front (or the uterus is), you can make out the more sticky-outy bits like shoulder, bum, knee etc.

I quite often lie on my back for a few moments, strain my neck to see over the coning towers that I call boobs, and admire the "points" on my abdomen. At this time he likes to have his sticky outy bits stroked, but prod them at your peril....

We're getting a bit of a waddle-on. I say "we" because this is not entirely my fault, so why should I bear all the blame? After all, I'm about the size of a small city at the moment, and I expect several more subdivisions to be added as we go along.

As I proceeded majestically up the hallway the other day, I heard my supportive and kindly husband snort with derisive laughter from behind. According to him, the dog was trying to overtake me in the hall, but as she would go to side-step, I'd lurch in that direction, so she'd try the other side only to be blocked as I lurched the other way with the next step. According to Wayne (he who shall be made to pay in sweat and blood when I'm in labour, btw), she gave up in frustration, threw a despairing look over her shoulder at him, then sat down and waited til I turned off into the bedroom.

What a come down to be a nuisance and embarrasment to your dog!

And as for nookie... let's just say that while the spirit is most definitely willing, the logistics do not bear thinking about. Not without someone designing a clever contraption involving straps, pulleys, counterweights and klaxons.

Even then I suspect Tadpole will have a lot to say, and make it deafeningly obvious that there would be three of us involved in such an activity (one of which being deeply inconvenienced and possibly even kept awake). It's hard to get romantic when your belly has a mind (and postcode) of it's own.