22 weeks: pillow forts, dog walks, maternity leggings and a box of french fancies

On pregnancy moans – This week, I’ve mostly been moaning about:

  • Needing a new back and hips. These ones are broken. Pass me the WD40 and for god’s sake, let me get a comfortable night’s sleep. In a bid to find a way to sleep through the night without doing a lot of swears, I’ve actually folded a double winter duvet in half and put it on top of my half of the mattress. Then I make what can only be described as a PILLOW FORT down the middle of the bed and sleep on my side/front or side/back pressed against that. I look COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS, like some Princess and the Pea wannabe. It’s incredibly comfy, but I STILL wake up feeling like a robot left out in the rain for too long.
  • Whilst I’m on the subject of sleep, can someone please tell my body clock and brain that it’s not time to be all alert and full of life after my first of many night-time trips for a wee? On a typical night, this involves being WIDE awake when I wake up around 1:30am, starving hungry at 2am, downstairs eating cereal and drinking milk at 2:30am and eventually back to sleep at 3am. By 7am I am usually more grumpy than I would care to admit. On the plus side, two breakfasts 🙂

On dog sitting – When I’ve not been busy moaning, we’ve been dog sitting my family’s pooch whilst they’re off sunning themselves. The last time we had him was 3 months ago, when I was 10 weeks pregnant and spent a long time curled up under a blanket with him on the sofa.  This time round, he’s getting on with our pussy cat a lot better (and by that I mean he’s not tried to eat her. yet. this week), but this might be because he’s got bigger fish to fry with the stags at the local park in rutting season. He has one of those personality disorders where he thinks he’s a lot bigger than he really is. And when I say bigger, I mean BIGGER. Like taking-on-a-stag-and-thinking-he’s-going-to-win size. (He totally wouldn’t win).

My lovely friend Stef was up from London, so her, me and Bec did some good dog walking at the weekend. Four miles is a lot further and a lot more hard work than I remember it being. I used to run 3 miles and not really think much off it, heck, once I ran 13.2 miles and lived to walk as far as the pub afterwards.

In fitter days, just before running the Great North Run in 2010. Neil had run 125 from Manchester to Newcastle prior to running the GNR with me, but that is officially another story.

My friend Bec has recently joined the 21st century and invested in an iPhone. She’s also discovered Instagram and has taken to Instagram-ing everything she does. I blatantly stole these pictures she took on our walk, largely because I was too busy huffing and trying to form sentences to bother taking any pictures.

One of the offending stags. Just out of shot, the Jack Russell makes semi-menacing noises and runs in the stag’s general direction.

The lake and house looking all autumnal.

On being a yoga bore – Also this week, I ate my own body weight (which is a lot more than it once was) in food at Yo! Sushi and got fixed by my wonderful yoga teacher once again. Seriously, if you’re pregnant, go find a prenatal yoga class somewhere near you. I don’t care if you like yoga or not, just go and do it. I didn’t even realise how sore my bones were until I left an hour and a half later feeling a foot taller and a stone lighter. Plus, someone covers you in a blanket and you ‘relax’ (sleep) on the floor for 15 minutes at the end. What more could you want?

Actually, I can’t vouch for the other people in the class doing much actual sleeping, I woke myself up with a snore on 3 occasions in 15 minutes, so chances are I kept them awake too.

This week, my yoga teacher taught me a great move which sorted my hips and back out completely. She called it Stirring the Porridge (click the link for a gif of how to do it). Try it now! OK, maybe don’t try it now if you’re at work. Or on the bus. Or anywhere in public really, but definitely try it.

On buying presents…for me – That brings me nicely up to today. After my ebay bargain hunting of a few weeks ago, I since discovered (through my lack of understanding about how maternity clothes work) that I’d bought some lovely stuff that will look great on me in 3 months time, but now looks about as glamorous as a sack of spuds. After realising I’d worn the same 3 dresses on rotation every day for about 3 weeks, I delved in to ebay once more in a bid to buy some empire line stuff that doesn’t make me look like I’m wearing a Muumuu. Two dresses and £12 later, I’m a happy lady.

My new PJs. Just wish I looked like this in them.

AND whilst I was killing time before Book Club tonight, I bought some PJs with some M&S vouchers we got for our wedding (happy wedding present, Neil! It’s what you always wanted!). The top has a boob-scoop and is really comfy, if nowhere near as supportive as the more expensive versions from Bravissimo. The bottoms are long enough in the leg for once, but have a fake drawstring waist?! Very annoying, but so soft and comfy, I’ve almost forgiven them. Yes, I put them on within 5 minutes of getting back in the house, what on earth do you take me for?

OK, so whilst I’m admitting all my recent purchases, I might as well come clean about heading back to H&M for another pair of maternity leggings. I bought the first pair in desperation one lunchtime as my other leggings needed constant hitching to keep in place. Ladies, constant legging-hitching in the workplace is SO not a good look. Something HAD to be done. These H&M badboys don’t sag around the knees, and they’re elasticated around the top of the waistband, so they don’t fall down. The holy grail of maternity leggings in my book, and much cheaper than most at £8.

Shall I tell you what I’ve NOT done this week? I’ve not put the cot up like I said I would. I’ve definitely not moved the double bed in to the box room, taken a bump photo or done any of the other things I promised myself I would. I HAVE eaten an entire box of Mr Kipling’s Fiendish Fancies and published my blog on time for once, so not quite a complete failure. 

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2 thoughts on “22 weeks: pillow forts, dog walks, maternity leggings and a box of french fancies

  1. Pingback: 32 weeks | From here to maternity

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