34/40 - The attack of the giant undies and other assorted hotness.

I asked Oscar earlier today if he'd like to give his sister a kiss. He wasn't for the idea but compromised by telling me he will eat her for lunch instead. Whatever, I'm fine with that because I got a good (albeit kind of creepy when you know what he was trying to do) snap out of it!

We are now at the 34 week mark, kids! For those of you who can't count, that means I am 6 weeks (give or take) away from pushing a watermelon out a lemon. My vagina is so excited!

So, I have spent the past 30-something weeks, obsessed with the fun stuff like buying teeny wondersuits, stocking up on teeny MCN's, eating whatever the damn hell I please and arguing over baby names. Now that I have 6 freaking weeks left, I have to turn my attention to more pressing but totally snoretastic stuff. Stuff that I kinda forgot came part and parcel of being duffed.

Stuff such as;

My fancy new reg grundies. That's MC holding them too. I kid, I kid!
Image from here.

- Buying godawful underwear from Big W. You know, the ones where the elastic slacks after like 3 washes but there's enough junk in the trunk to accommodate a pad of surfboard proportions. If MC even THINKS about saying "Is that a surfboard in your pants or are you just pleased to see me?" after I give birth, I will knock him out. Cold. And then give him a massive wedgie.

- Trying on bloody ugly but practical maternity bras and trying to imagine just how my rack is going to look after sprouting from 14D to 14E and then (hopefully) back to pre-pregnancy 14C. Thank god it will be winter and I can just tuck them into the waistband of my pants! 

- Stocking up on the new Mama aresenal - Breast pads, vag pads, nipple cream, Ural (for when you pee and it feels like you are giving birth all over again), boxes of tissues (for when the baby blues make you cry over everything including the fact that you just ate the last Tim Tam and no bastard will go buy you anymore!) and movies to watch when it's 3am and your baby thinks it's time to par-tay.

- Hunting down plastic mattress protectors. Just in case I sleep through my waters breaking. HA! Did you know amniotic fluid goes mouldy? I didn't ... until the Midi handed me the underwear I had worn to the hospital when in labour with Amelia. It had been soaked in fluid then wrapped in a plastic bag for 5 days, aka; the perfect breeding ground for mould. YEECH!  

- Organising meals for the early daze. I was hoping that my children would become Junior Masterchefs by July ... but unless Masterchef culinary skills these days include eating peanut butter out of the jar and tubs of yoghurt then I am screwed. And since my children insist on eating dinner every night (the bastards!), I have made a note to start trawling the interwebs for slow cooker recipes. If I can throw it in at 9am when I am still functioning and it'll be ready by dinnertime, I will be winning like Charlie Sheen!

- Trying to go about everyday life with a wheatbag strapped to the right hand side of my back. It sounds every bit as awkward as it sounds but goddamn, every pregnancy I reach a point where a muscle in my back insists on burning. I AM BURNING MAN! You can't sit down for longer than 5 mins without the burning kicking in but dammit if you can lay down comfortably either. 

- Being able to physically get out of the bath. No, really. Shamuuuuu!

- Installing car seats and putting together baby swings that are so fucking tricky, you have to resist the urge to hunt down the designer and bash them over the head ten times with Part C that is meant to slot perfectly with Part D BUT DOES NOT!

- Managing discharge. I will say no more. Shudder.

On the upside, only 40-ish days until I can sleep on my stomach and hold lots of pee in ;) HUZZAH!