23 weeks: Halloween parties, cake club, ketchup tasting and finally putting the bloody cot together

This week has been a busy one. It started with a Halloween party hosted by the lovely Kerry. She put on an amazing spread as ever, and since I found out the last two cases of Listeriosis in the UK were from butter and lettuce, I didn’t give myself the guilts over a bit of Stilton either. AND I stayed up past midnight! What a freaking rebel.

Kerry FORCE-FED us pumpkin cupcakes and cheese. It was TERRIBLE*.
*Amazing

(photo kindly borrowed from Kerry’s Instagram because, lets face it, I was too busy eating to take any pictures)

Over the weekend, we also switched around the second bedroom and the box room, put up the cot and moved the guest bed in to the box bedroom. I would take a photo, but it looks like a room with a cot in it, and I know you’ve got good imaginations.

Sunday bought us October’s Cake Club event, and lots and lots of cake. Can you see a theme emerging here? Wait til you hear this: I didn’t take any photos, as I was too busy scoffing cake, so these are borrowed from the @cakeclubnotts twitter account. De ja vu?

I ate all dese

…and dese.

On Monday, Neil left me all on my lonesome whilst he went on a shoot in Germany. I responded by buying a king-sized fleece dual control electric blanket and spending Monday evening curled up in bed with a cat on my lap, my phone in one hand and my kindle in the other. Me and this electric blanket are going to be friends for a very long time.

Tuesday saw me taking part in a focus group about banana ketchup, which is one of the more obscure ways to spend your Tuesday evenings.

On Wednesday, I attempted Christmas shopping, but after the mile and a half walk there, I realised I couldn’t be bothered to buy presents for anyone else, so bought myself a lipstick and went home. Now, I’m an organised woman with cooking and domestic skillz and all the independence I need, but it doesn’t stop me from getting a bit pathetic when left to my own devices for a few days. By the time Wednesday rolled around, I may or may not have called Neil in Germany to find out whether he could locate the remote control with his mind skills (because I had looked for it for HOURS, couldn’t find it, and therefore Neil had OBVIOUSLY hidden it somewhere before he left), and when he couldn’t, I may or may not have decided that 7:30pm was an entirely reasonable time to turn in for the night with 4oD on the iPad. The offending missing remote was later discovered on the floor, just beneath the sofa, and YESOFCOURSEIBLOODYLOOKEDTHERE.

Thursday saw the arrival of my wool winter coat from the cleaners, which had previously suffered an undignified strawberry yoghurt related injury at the tail end of last winter and lived in a bin bag bag awaiting dry cleaning ever since. This was very exciting as my purple trench looks ace, but doesn’t provide much in the way of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Coat-needs. Less exciting was the discovery that only the top button of my just-cleaned-winter-coat now does up. Harumph. Thursday was also a day of 50% off pizzas at Ask with my friend Kate. I bombarded her with baby related questions until I was blue in the face and left feeling a) very full and b) very calm about impending motherhood. Let’s see how long this lasts, eh?

When I’ve not been busy actually having a social life for once, I’ve also been doing some good baby-growing. This whole bump malarky has crept up on me a bit unannounced. One day I was all ‘Grr, grump grump I don’t even look pregnant’ and the next, I’m huffing and puffing trying to negotiate my way in to a pair of maternity tights. What gives?

Lookit the basketball up my jumper (slightly more demure version, featuring clothing)

So long, waistline. (Shameless belly-out shot, and one of those Dear-God-what’s-happened-to-the-shape-of-my-ass moments)

So next week will be 24 weeks pregnant, which if you work on the basis of 4 weeks to a month, would suggest I was 6 months pregnant. I’ve been perpetually confused by pregnancy timescales ever since I realised there was 4 weeks in a month, but 40 weeks in a pregnancy WHICH ONLY BLOODY EQUALS 10 MONTHS WHICH IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT I BLOODY SIGNED UP FOR, so 24 weeks doesn’t really mean much. All I know is that the third trimester starts at week 27, which at the minute is a whole other month away. Loads of time to read all the books I’m meant to read and sort out all the stuff I’m meant to sort out. LOADS OF TIME.

This week, I also read something about how the baby took 23 weeks to get to 1lb in weight, but in the next 3 weeks, it’ll double to 2lbs. I can’t find the source of this information, so I may well have made it up, but if I didn’t, it looks like I’m going to be getting considerably fatter in the considerably near future. But then we probably knew that already, didn’t we?

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