Let's talk about sex, baby!

Now I adore my boys, I wouldn't swap them or change them for the world. (unless we were talking about sleep. I would definitely make them sleep more if I could.) I love them, bogeys, willies, snails, slugs and all.
I will love playing trucks and trains.
I will love building elaborate toys.
I will love building dens.
I will kiss many grazed knees, bumped heads, and twisted ankles from rough play.
I will clean up dirty hands and muddy shoes.
I will tend to hearts broken by mean girls.
I will weather through obsessions with their willies (and accept that this is one phase that will never die!)

I have a bond with my sons that is unbreakable, unchanging, and forever. Their tiny hands have made the biggest imprints on my heart.

And yet, when I found out my sister-in-law is expecting a girl I felt a knot in my stomach. I felt the unspeakable nausea from knowing a secret we don't speak about as mothers.

I'd love a little girl.

If given the option to swap my boys for girls, I'd say no in a heartbeat. I've always wanted boys. I love picking out their clothes and playing cars and having mummy cuddles.

So why, when I found out she was pregnant did I wish so hard it was a boy? And why was I so disappointed it was a girl?

I think I've had to come to terms with feelings I didn't realize were there. I don't want any more children, SB was my last Bear. I think it's knowing that I won't ever have a girl that makes me a little sad.
But nowhere near as sad as not having any more babies. As SB is beginning to crawl, and cruise, and grow, it tugs at my heart that this baby phase will only last a little longer. That soon he will push away my arms when I want a cuddle. That I'll never again feel that rush of emotion when my new baby is first in my arms.

Feeling the overwhelming urge to wake my sleeping babies for cuddles!!
xxx

Telling the mother....

So my mother doesn't actually know I'm pregnant. To be fair, nobody really does! It's funny how much this pregnancy differs from the first! Last time I was shouting it from the roof... This time I'm even more frightened of telling my mother I'm having another one. After countless warnings and threats to not have another child for at least ten years. Oops! Though to be fair, I didn't actually plan to have another for at least like... three years.

I may have begged OH for a baby when I saw pictures of Facebook of pretty newborns... and joked about a small age gap...

BUT I WASN'T BLOODY SERIOUS!

But that's the way the cookie crumbles. And I'm very happy about Beany.

In fact, I got my NT scan date through, and I'm pretty buzzed. Except I'm already 9 weeks pregnant... And I haven't even told my own mother. Because she's going to shout at me.

Am I really mature enough to have two kids if I'm worried about my mother telling me off?

On the other hand, BB has got over the god-awful virus that made him a demon child. He's been STTN (despite now waking at 6.30 am like he has a bloody alarm clock) and he's less whingy. Still snotty though, and seems to have developed a liking for wiping his nose on my clothes or in my hair - nice huh? Yummy.

Thinking about hiding until Beany is here...
xxx

Post-Baby Body

I never expected to pop right back into shape after I gave birth (just hoped and prayed) but I wasn't prepared for how different my body would be. Not to scare any first time mummies out there, but it's not the prettiest sight.

I saw all the celebrities appearing weeks after giving brith looking no different and assumed I'd be pretty much the same - I'm young and slim, why wouldn't I be like that?
Because I don't have a nutritionist and personal trainer (or the will power) that's why. I can't exercise properly for another week and I'm breastfeeding so can't diet.

It's been five weeks since I popped the little one out, and yes I've lost a lot of my baby belly, but I have no clothes that fit. My maternity stuff is obviously massive, but my pre-preggo clothes are nowhere near fitting. I have a wedding to go to on Sunday, and have been trying desperately to find and outfit that doesn't make me look like a wobbly blob.

I have given up after a depressing incident in the H&M changing rooms. I found two gorgeous dresses, and I was reasonable - I didn't pick up and 8 or a 10 because I knew they wouldn't fit, but I picked up one dress in a 12, and another in a 14. I skipped up to the changing rooms, pleased I'd found something.
The 12 barely fit over my head, let alone did up.
The 14 almost zipped all the way up, so I took off my bra, determined to get it on. It still didn't do up, and then Baby Bear started crying outside. Bugger. I saw two wet patches spreading rapidly on the dress and tried to get out of it quickly. That was when my let-down really kicked in a mik started spraying everywhere - over the mirror, running down my belly, dripping on the floor. I grabbed my breastpads and stemmed the flow, before dressing quickly and running from the shop red-faced.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LOOK NICE WHEN I LEAK EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME!!!!??? PRETTY DRESSES AND MASSIVE, LEAKY, VEINY BOOBIES DON'T GO!!!!!

So I'm going naked.

If I'm not arrested for public indecency (Because nobody wants to see my saggy, stretchmarky tummy, ever-expanding arse and big veiny boobies) I'll write again soon to let you know how it went

Eagerly awaiting a normal body
xxx

37+5

So... Haven't posted in a few days as I've been very (in)patiently waiting for my baby to arrive, and it really looked like last night was the night!

But here I am, still waiting for my little one.

Early afternoon yesterday I decided I was fed up waiting for a baby to put in my newly finished nursery, and woke Daddy Bear up for a bit of... (ahem) well, my theory being what got it in there must get it out, right? Then a romantic meal of pineapple and mango.

Well it seemed like it. I was getting nasty pains in my lower back on and off which never went and irregular tightenings in my stomach. So I got on my ball and I bounced. I bounced like it... well, like it would get this baby out. And it got painful. Then I had a sudden urge to tidy my house, and at eight pm I changed the sheets (stupidly spicy fajitas). Still getting pains in my back, so I had a bath and they disappeared. Dammit. So I watched TV, downhearted and got into bed, where they started up again. This baby is a tease!! I ignored them and got up for one last wee before sleep. On wiping, I noticed spotting. You've never seen anybody so excited about blood on toilet paper. I skipped into the living room, rolled my gym ball into my bedroom and rocked gently, practicing my breathing and listening to sooooooothing music. After two and a half hours of these pains, I was really tired and climbed into bed. I fell asleep. I woke up.

THE PAINS HAVE STOPPED!!!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

I am now sat with a face of thunder on my gym ball, waiting for Daddy Bear to wake up so I can try 'doing the deed' again. As awkward and uncomfortable as it is, and as much as he does NOT like doing it when I am this pregnant and has convinced himself he's going to break my waters of poke our child in the head.

Impatiently awaiting the arrival of Baby Bear
xxx

30 Weeks

Yes, I know it's late to start writing my pregnancy journal, but better late than never!! It's hard to believe I only have 10 weeks to go, I really feel like this pregnancy is starting to get somewhere now.

I had my last day at work yesterday, this is it now. I've been counting down to this day for a couple of months, and it's quite scary to think that the next thing I'll be counting down to is my due date!! So my first day of maternity leave has been... pretty unproductive!! I have all these plans but my body doesn't seem to care that I want a lot of things done before baby arrives.
It started well at least, I managed to sleep for eight hours, only waking up twice to pee, which is an absolute godsend and hasn't happened in... months. I don't even remember the last time I had a decent night's sleep. Then I got up with Daddy Bear, had breakfast whilst he complained that I'd kept him up all night fidgeting and snoring (ha!) and sent him off to work.

Things I actually managed to do today
1. clean my kitchen (Daddy Bear is a freak and hates the smell of bleach so I have to do it when he's out)
2. wash kitchen floor (still forgot to buy a mop, was done on hands and knees)

and then I went all dizzy and horrible because I hadn't eaten and had to make lunch and lie on the sofa. So other than a small pile of ironing and a load of washing, that was as exciting as my day got today, don't pretend you aren't jealous.

BUT, my New Year's Resolution was to eat better in the evenings, as I can get slack and lazy, and Tesco's Italian microwave meals become my best friend, and so far have managed it pretty well.

Tonight, we have cottage pie. Not exciting, but homemade from scratch as everything i have eaten for dinner in the past week has been - and I'm very proud (despite sitting here eating a packet of salt and vinegar Walkers...)

Daddy Bear is napping, but Baby bear seems excited at the prospect of food at least, showing me by sticking a pair of tiny feet out my right side and a bum up under my ribs.

I'm going to waft the smell of cooking meat towards Daddy Bear and see if he rouses
Hopefully tomorrow is a little more exciting!!

Eagerly awaiting the arrival of Baby Bear
xxx