Well the World Cup has now started and I missed my first England World Cup game since about 1982 simply because I was too tired to stay up and watch it. Now watching France vs Honduras and although it’s only 9pm and I had a nap earlier I am already yawning profusely.
Ooh France have just scored. Looks like they have finally introduced goal-line technology.
Anyway, I am beginning to feel increasingly like an invalid. A huge, bloated whale of an invalid at that. Today I was wearing one of the few dresses that still fit-a floor-length blue vintage number-with flip flops, and had the sudden realisation that I looked like the Virgin Mary, escaped from the nativity play and roaming the streets, sans donkey, looking for some room at the inn. As my brother quite rightly pointed out, I even had the immaculate conception to match.
Speaking of clothes that don’t fit, yesterday my mother and I went to Westfield and I am now the proud owner of two nursing bras, which I think I am going to be wearing from now on as I have actual scars on my breasts from trying to squeeze into my normal ones. We also bought breast pads (eugh), disposable knickers (EUGH) and worst of all, giant maternity pads (EEUUUGGHH), which are all apparently things I am going to need. I very much doubt I will ever have sex ever again. With all the waddling around, I started getting pains that felt like severe period pains in my back and front and at one point (round about the stage I was doubled over in Boots, buying the breast pads thinking this is definitely the end of my life as a style icon and woman about town) I actually thought I was going into labour. Today my mother was so worried this was going to happen she wouldn’t even let me salsa dance at the Marylebone Summer Fayre-probably the world’s most middle class event, which we had accidentally stumbled into and which became something of an ordeal for my brother as my mother and I spent literally every moment exclaiming “look, ANOTHER Bugaboo Bee! I’ve never seen so many Bugaboo Bees in my life! It’s like a Bugaboo Bee conference!” to each other repeatedly. Looks like I have the Marylebone It Pushchair. I either have very middle class tastes, or I am a total trend-follower. Or both.
Anyway, I am going to have to go now as I literally cannot stay awake any longer. I’m off to dream crazy pregnant dreams about the baby kicking a hole in my stomach again.