Due date (and the importance of not using unnecessary exclamation marks)

Today's the day. Or not. Babies don't always arrive on schedule apparently. Except for Peaches. I think she's lulled me into expecting the same this time around. Recaro meanwhile is expecting me to hold on for another week.

This would be fine, but the baby has started to feel like a tough, gnarly rock when I wake at 4 in the morning.

Ah well - at least I'm looking good. (If you were expecting modesty, keep moving along, there's nothing to see here.) Here's a photo of me at a wedding last weekend. With Peaches in front of me, I don't think you can tell I'm in my 39th week.

I have some more posts lined up. Some about sewing - baby shoes, nappy knickers, swaddle wraps, burp cloths, hats, baby trousers and girly swirly skirts! Knitting - baby blankets and warm winter hats (I like to keep ahead of the seasons, don't you know?). Others about losing first teeth, hanging out at the beach - and hopefully, fingers crossed, touch wood, pray to God - a healthy happy baby.

18 weeks

This second pregnancy is different to my first.

Despite the fact that I'm older and get tired a lot quicker, I'm making far less of a fuss and despite those age-associated risks (I'm 40 - not completely ancient), I'm not as worried about the baby's progress as I was with Peaches.

I'm only checking for on-line pregnancy facts or the latest deals on reusable nappies on a fortnightly basis instead of daily. And boy, am I looking for deals this time. I was far less frugal when I was working five days a week and we were living in those heady pre-subprime fiasco days.

And the big difference - the one that's most exciting to me? After several quiet months, this baby has started kicking. I can see and feel the movement. Peaches hardly ever kicked - she was a breech baby so I wasn't inclined to tell too many people about the 'zingers' as she danced on my cervix.

And as for the tummy photo - yadda yadda, the bump is getting bigger and you don't need a photo to know that. Enough already.

Tick tock

Time is the mother of all clichés. It won’t stop moving on. Even when things feel slow and mundane, we keep moving forward. It’s relentless. Before you know it, your blog is looking dusty and unloved. And your child has grown up and looks nothing like her baby photos any more.

Which seems all the more astonishing when you consider how mind boggling slowly a child can be in putting their shoes and coat on in order to leave the house.

That’s when time starts to feel like a melting Salvador Dali clock.

Then there are the milestones and changes to routine. I remember the baby groups I joined as a new mum. I thought some of those friendships would go on forever. One or two did, but not the ones I expected. When I look back, I’m surprised at how casually I let some of these things go, but on each occasion I was driven by what Peaches and I each enjoyed and wanted to do.

The biggest milestone so far is happening today. Peaches is having her last day with her fabulous childminder, Lisa. Let me count the reasons that I love Lisa:

• She talks to the children about the ‘garden of good manners’ and puts their picture in the garden when they share, say please and thank you, are helpful and so on.
• She takes photos of Peaches throughout the day and writes a short story of Peaches’ day in a day book. These are lovely memory books that give me an insight into what goes on when I’m at work.
• She has lovely, engaging older children who play with the little ones.
• She takes Peaches to playgroups and playdates. So Peaches can always point out the other childminders’ ‘kiddywinks’ when we see them around town or in the supermarket.
• She calls groups of children ‘kiddywinks’.
• She’s encouraged and supported Peaches in being outgoing and confident.
• She’s helped Peaches understand how children develop from being babes in arms, to walking, talking and running. Peaches probably knows more about babies than I do. Which is handy, because I’m pregnant.

So from next week, Peaches will go to the fabulous nursery for four days a week. She’s been begging for this for some time. She loves Lisa too, but she wants to spend more time with children (and girls) of her own age group. Since she’ll be starting school in September, this gives her six months of a more school like atmosphere.

That pregnancy thang I mentioned? That will hopefully happen in September too. It’s all part of my master plan to be on maternity leave while Peaches starts reception class. They have a very fractured start to schooling here. For the first two or three weeks it’ll be a day here, an afternoon there. All of which seemed to be entirely incompatible with having an employer.

Perhaps I could have planned to take holiday to deal with it. I just thought having another baby would be more fun. And let’s not forget: I love maternity leave.

Super trouper

Part of the reason for my lack of blogging is my concern not to over do Peaches' on-line presence. She's not a voting shareholder and it's easy to overshare.

On the other hand, she was cast as Mary in the nursery nativity. Even though we are now into January, I think it's not too late to brag.

Clearly she's a star. She was very sweet, cuddling of the baby Jesus and kissing him on the head. She sang loudly to all the songs and beamed with pride at the end of the show.

After that Christmas went a bit down hill as I got the flu and Recaro and Peaches caught colds. All grandparent visits were cancelled and we stayed home, cosying up to each other around the fire. It was a very strange, muted celebration.

Happily, the new year is looking brighter and healthier - and with more blogging.

Sway, what a swell party

The party cake tower was very well received by the small girls. All of Recaro's fairy cakes were eaten. My pink iced shop bought cakes weren't quite as popular, but I'm sure things would have turned out differently if only I'd been able to use the flower decorations that I wanted...

And as for the party dress? It swished, it swayed, it rocked.
Admit it, you want one just like it.

Recaro bought it for her. Thank heavens for Recaro. He has far better cup cake and fashion styling skills than I do. At least I know how to give out party bags.

"Who would like a party bag to take home?" I asked at 4pm. All the little hands shot up in the air. Result.

Party planning

Peaches is having a birthday party this Saturday. For a while, this filled me with dread. There seemed to be so much to do for two hours of shrieking girl-fest. Then reality dawned....

• Sainsbury's are delivering our shopping.

• I've ordered presents and decorations on line.

• I have bought ready made icing to go on ready made fairy cakes. Yeah. Bite me.

• A friend is making a gorgeous chocolate fudge cake.

• Recaro has ordered helium for balloons.

• Recaro has ordered wine for the parents.

• Recaro has bought a new swishy party dress for Peaches.

All I'm going to actually cook is a few sausages and sausage rolls. I must remember to prepare party bags and the parcel and prizes for Pass the Parcel and Musical Bumps.

Some people might consider this to be the slack parenting approach to partying. On the other hand, it cuts the prep time and the children are far more likely to eat.

I'm bound to forget something. I can live with that.

Taking the Milwaukee biscuit

One of the worst thing about the internet is how it aids and abets us in coveting things and buying stuff. Sadly, this knowledge isn't going to stop me supporting the consumerist nature of the interwebs. I give you, drum roll, the extremes of Recaro's shopping habit.

First off, Recaro researches the products, reads the review and purchases a Milwaukee hammer drill on-line. How manly. He waits anxiously for its arrival. It doesn't show.

Meanwhile our Vitsoe shelving is delivered.

So he puts the shelves up anyway using his Dad's old hammer drill. (Remind me again, why did he have to buy a new hammer drill?). His Dad's drill has the shortest cable in the world and I have to spend an afternoon holding an extension lead in the air.

This impatience to get on with things is common (if random) in our house. He bought the drill in order to do the job properly, but then went ahead anyway with an old drill... and did the job properly.

Only four months after moving in, we finally unpack our books even if only to repack a few other boxes with books for the charity shops and eBay. Also, how do you like our wires across the carpet look? (That carpet is going by the way).

On the same day the drill arrives (which it turns out was made in Germany and not, as one might imagine, in Milwaukee), Recaro comes home even more excited with his latest purchase from Marks & Spencer.

What's not to like about a biscuit tin that looks like a biscuit? Indeed, what's not to love about the man who bought it?

Hands up who hasn't got a clue what I mean about the importance of the custard cream to British snack culture?