Stuff I hoped we'd get done this weekend, but we didn't

1. Cut grass
2. Clean cooker
3. Vacuum stairs
4. Vacuum three rooms and landing upstairs
5. Throw away dead houseplants (we've killed another spider-plant, this time through overwatering)
6. Vacuum two armchairs and the sofa
7. Tidy spare bedroom until it's almost fit to use as such
8. List stack of misc geek goods on Freecycle
9. Bring box of books to charity shop or otherwise get rid of them
10. Bake chocolate cake
11. Plan meals for the next two weeks and compile shopping list
12. Wipe down icky banister, doorhandles, other grimy icky bits people rub hands all over
13. Find Linnea's Little Red Book
14. Print Linnea's birthday invitations
15. Get blasted bunkbed parts out of the bloody master bedroom, dammit
16. Add paperback biographies to book catalogue
17. Add downstairs poetry and drama to book catalogue
18. Get dangerous DIY kit out of understairs cupboard
19. Sort "Linnea's" art equipment, not for my benefit, oh no, altruistic parenty stuff only, yessir
20. Buy stamps of various flavours for the address book pocket, which currently has no UK internal stamps, only post to US or Europe.

On the other hand, we all went swimming in the pool with waves, and then on to lunch. It was lovely. We bought Curse of the Were Rabbit too, and will watch it after dinner.

And Rob may have solved the bread-baking problem. We'll let you know, if so.

Pregnancy Update

There is a tadpole in my tum
It keeps me wide awake
And when the midnight munchies come
I must its cravings slake

The tadpole (size of a banana, about - 6 inches long, anyway, not incl. legs) is a swimmer. Not as lively as I remember Linnea being, and it has yet to respond to music in the same way, but then, it's almost two weeks earlier than the time Linnea got rhythm, so that's not proof it's a different person yet.

It moves differently though. Fewer long slow movements, more series-es of jerky kicks and periods of stillness.

Linnea likes my tummy; she talks to it, says "Baby i Mummy tummy; nife a fat!" and strokes it. One day recently she tucked her head under my shirt as I sat on the armchair and listened to my tummy for ages. She said she was listening to the baby, but I rather suspect what she actually heard was shepherd's pie (with carrots and peas) and soya ice-cream.

I fele very very tired, and my sinuses are clearly pregnant, but I'm in general very well. I expect to feel a lot better as the spring becomes more than half-sprung.