I was supposed to be meeting up with my ante natal group this afternoon at S’s house in Kent, but two things happened- first I realised that S’s street is not in the A-Z and therefore doesn’t exist, second I went to K’s to meet a couple of her friends with babies, and the red wine came out, and that was it. When I say came out I mean K rushed into the room waving a bottle, looking totally delighted, and her enthusiasm was just very catching. One of the babies there was 4 weeks old, so tiny! Unbelievable that mine used to be a teensy little scrap like that.
Rose was a bit grumbly today – I don’t know if it was because her routine was a bit different to usual or just that she is bored because we haven’t really been anywhere except Ikea in the last week. This is a girl who is used to international air travel, remember. I am still worried that I have permanently damaged her by not being all cheerful while I had a cold. Imagaine, mum gets a wee little virus and baby faces a life of trauma. Perhaps I am over worrying. Not unlikely since I spent 7 and 3 quarter months of pure worry while pregnant (the other month and a quarter was before doing the test).
She might be a bit unsettled by the building work going on in the kitchen. I know I am. I haven’t eaten a single butternut squash for over a fortnight. I’ve completely lost the will to cook and haven’t been to the supermarket since coming back from spain so we only have milk and jam in the fridge. Today the builder said he thought our electrics were mad as a snake and we might have to have all sorts of expensive corrective work done. Surely this is somebody else’s fault and somebody else can be made to pay. Boris Johnson perhaps?