I'm quite proud of myself that, apart from a couple of weeks being mentally hormonal in the first eight weeks, I've been pretty relaxed about this, my first pregnancy. This week however I appear to be slowly losing the plot. Things that are at the top of my rage list are:
- bathroom currently being done by my lovely DH (who has taken a week of holiday to do it and worked harder than he's ever worked before) at my request. Unfortunately this means that the ONLY bathroom we have has been out of action for over a week and I've had to shower at work and leg it to Morrisons to use the loo. Obviously can never ever ever moan about this to him. He is properly broken by the whole experience and looks like he's going to cry when I ask him how it's going.
- huge deadline looming for my department at work; boss appears to have gone into avoidance mode and has shifted the meeting we need to have 3 times. We are now finally going to meet tomorrow - the DAY BEFORE the deadline. She is also making noises about not feeling well
- boss is also making repeated references to how hard it's going to be in our department once I go on maternity leave. She has made lots of references to her stress levels. I am feeling increasingly guilty about having a baby (yes I know I shouldn't; but I do).
- everyone at work has now used the words "huge" or "enormous" with reference to my bump. There have also been repeated references to early births. I'm 32 weeks; I have far too much to do for that to happen!
- plus husband does not seem to grasp that saying "you're not fat, you're pregnant" is not the same as saying "you're still beautiful and alluring to me darling".
- more and more people are starting to touch my bump (grrrrr) or give me unsolicited advice. I am just a well-meaning stroke of the tummy away from punching a sweet little old lady in the face.
- have had to go out a few times in the last couple of weeks to watch other people drinking. Drunk people are really really annoying aren't they?
No advice required. Just needed to offload. Now have to annotate the worst coursework ever submitted in the history of education. Anyone else feeling the need to vent their third trimester fury? Do it here; share my pain.