Wednesday, 2 November 2011

Week 8- love handles and getting your bits checked

I can fit into my old jeans! Well, when I say fit into, I mean squeeze into. And when I say squeeze I mean my love handles are spilling over the top, and I’ve got angry red marks around my waist where I’ve forced the fly up. But they’re on and that’s all that matters. And more to the point I’ve started to do exercises thanks to the power of the slendertone. As Nancy played on her baby gym, I cranked the belt up to 30 for half an hour (which I believe is the same as doing somewhere in the region on 150 sit ups thank you very much.) My tummy is still so massively wobbly, that it was like watching myself do the shuffle truffle without moving once I’d turned it on but who cares? If I can get a six pack without having to move off the sofa then that’s good enough for me.
Nancy and I are having a slow week after her being poorly. I don’t want to be a panicky mum, but I’m still putting by finger under her nose every time she goes to sleep to check she’s still breathing. And when she does that weird panty thing then holds her breath for a second, I find myself giving her a little nudge to wake her up so normal breathing can commence, which must be lovely for her.
It’s strange not having a house full of visitors, or tearing around the countryside seeing relatives. It’s peaceful, but also a bit unnerving. I think I’m so used to being with people that hanging out me and Nancy is quite a shock to the system. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, and it’s great just watching her smiling at me, or finding her other hand and the look of shock on her face when it wiggles, but I think it would be fair to say that she doesn’t give much back in terms of conversation.

And I don’t think I’m very good in my own company. And I don’t think Nancy is either. When she’s left in the front room in her bouncy chair while I go to do something elsewhere she starts to grizzle, and when I come back all she wants is a cuddle or a tummy rub. Isn’t that strange that we may have the same characteristics and she’s only 8 weeks on Saturday? Or maybe it’s more that I’m forcing traits on her, that’s probably more like it. I guess this is the first time I’ve really considered where I fit into all this.

When I’m seeing people, there’s always things to chat about, even if it’s just what other people are up to, but after a day of me and Nancy, I don’t really have much to bring to the table when Ben gets back from work. I assume he won’t be interested in the fact that I cranked the slendertone up to 40 instead of the more comfortable 30 setting. Or that Karl and Susan Kennedy have split up after over 30 years of marriage, in fact I’m unsure as to whether it’s even acceptable to be watching Neighbours at 33, even if it is while I’m breastfeeding.
When I was at work, I had a job title, I managed people, people asked my opinion on things and I made things happen. Now I clean the house, I wash our clothes, we meet friends for coffee but mainly I look after Nancy, making sure she’s happy, warm, clean and well fed. I made bold sweeping generalisations pre Nancy that I wasn’t going to be one of those mums who just talk about their children, but what did I know? Before Nancy I didn’t have a child to talk about!
I also made rash pledges to not get involved in classes or groups that were aimed at mums I didn’t know, as I didn’t have time to see my proper friends so why would I want to hang out with women just because we had sex at roughly the same time? But truth is a lot of my friends work, and those who have children who are a bit older have already got into their routine, and to be rung up by another mum to ask if I wanted to go to the park wouldn’t be the end of the world! So maybe I’ll have a look into joining some stuff next week. Or better still Ulrika will have her baby and then I won’t have to as I’ll have a best mate with her little one.
So we had our 6 week check up a bit late this week, as well as a visit from the health visitor. I think Ben might have made more of an impact on the health visitor that I have- she had brought along a student nurse, and although she kept having to ask questions about me (it is Hannah isn’t it?) she certainly remembered Ben from her one meeting (Nancy’s 60 centimetres long, well that is tall, not surprising really Jonathan (the student nurse) as her dad’s very tall isn’t he Hannah?) At the doctors he pushed her legs around to check her joints, looked in her ears and checked her eyes, and everything’s fine. I really wanted him to have a check of my stitches and ask about tips for getting rid of stretch marks, as well as discuss weight loss to see if I can shift the extra two stone I have loose to get back to my ‘fighting weight’, but our doctor is a bit dishy, and the moment he mentioned contraception I got a bit silly and then forgot to ask all my questions at the opportune moment, and it seemed a bit late to ask if I could get my bits out for inspection when I had my coat on and Nancy strapped in the papoose.

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