I bet, reading the title of this post, you think it's going to be about T. But no. Despite us having a slightly early version of the terrible twos (tantrum city) it's me who's being the difficult one today.
I've been going to aquanatal for the last few weeks. During my last pregnancy it was run by the community midwives, all of whom were a great laugh. I made some fantastic friends, picked up some tips (and some things I tried to forget, like Midwife Jenny reminding us to breathe 'when those contractions rip through your body like a sharp knife', erm thanks for that!) but didn't do much exercise. I bobbed up and down in the pool of course, we all did, but it was hardly strenuous. Oh, except for the pelvic floor bit at the end in the baby pool, although you could get away with pretending to do those. Until after the birth ....
Anyway, a friend from the first time round texted to tell me she's pregnant again. Our first babies were born three weeks apart, our second are due only one day apart! We congratulated each other and agreed to meet at aquanatal 'for old time's sake'. Ah, well we got a bit of a shock. Last year, the midwives lost their funding to run the aquanatal sessions. A group of local mums from the breastfeeding support group stepped in. One is a fitness instructor, and the others take turns to babysit her children so she can run the class. Fantastic! Oh, except she makes you work REALLY hard! I nearly drowned last week. Still, there's no pretending labour's not hard work, and that you don't need to be fit to wrestle a bump and a tantrumming toddler, so I'm sticking with it.
The classes run between 7 and 8 pm on a Friday. Last week my husband said he was going out and that I 'couldn't go' to aquanatal, 8 pm being an unacceptably late time to commence drinking. Choice words were had, mainly about the last time I had a night out, but there was no moving him. Fine I shouted (well, half shouted, T was in bed by this time). I'm going next week instead.
So here we are. We're leaving to go on holiday tonight. The house is a tip, there's still packing to be done, T has just emptied most of a cooking packet of raisins all over the kitchen floor, I can't find the Channel Tunnel confirmation information and have been on hold to the call centre for the last half an hour. Yet I have a small roll in the corner, cossie in the middle, towel on the outside, a sort of swimming sushi, because I am Making A Point. I imagine it will set our departure back by two hours. My husband probably wont be able to bath T, pack the car and clean up the raisins before my return. But will I lose face and back down? Oh no. Difficult, moi?
See you in the pool.