"So Four Are To Become Five (Gulp)"

Me in all my festival glory (Wilderness Festival August 2011)

The husband and I had an interesting exchange of words on the drive up to Wilderness Festival, brought on by some lovely well-meaning messages and calls of congratulations as his phone starting beeping whilst traversing the late rush hour traffic of London.

"What?" he asked.  "Did you drop the bomb...on your blog??"

(gulp) "Uh...yeah.  What's the big deal?  We discussed this and you agreed."

Apparently he did not remember the discussion in question, and was none too pleased that I had issued forth such massive news on the blogosphere without letting him know exactly how and when I was doing so.

"Well it's not like it's our first child or anything...I mean it's our third...it's more casual no?" I offered.

Apparently not.

You see, it's the funniest thing.  I've always been like this.  No matter how big a deal something is to me at the start (like buying a new outfit you've been lusting after for weeks and simply MUST have - which after a wearing or two ends up strewn at the back of your closet), once I get used to it I become very laissez faire about things (which makes the fact that we're about to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary nothing short of extraordinary...).

Anyway, I'm just very laid back and casual about the whole 'having another baby' thing.  Maybe it's because I've done this twice before and it feels like no big deal, or because it's still months away (five and a bit to be exact), or because I have the gruelling 'swelling up like a star of Supersize Me' period to come and THAT is what is causing me anxiety if anything.

Babies are adorable, precious and truthfully not too much trouble until they reach the mouthing back stage.  Besides, the monsters are old enough now that they will be of some help I'm sure (well Egg will be - Dumpie remains to be seen) and as Dumpie is starting full time school in September, it's not like I'll be saddled with three little ones underfoot all day every day (whew!).

I think it's been timed perfectly to be honest.  If this had happened any sooner it would have been a disaster with the sibling dynamics as Dumpie continues to persist in referring to himself as 'Baby Dumps' - besides being more prolific than the average twelve year old.   As it is, he isn't going to take terribly well to being usurped by something smaller and in need of more constant cuddles than himself.

Of course the question on everyones lips is, "Do you know the sex?"  No, we do not.  Though we wait with baited breath to find out in four weeks or so.

Will it be a much-longed for girl to help right the imbalance of testosterone and provide a calming influence on our very loud, energy ridden household?  Or will it be another boy child (we do make them rather well after all) destined to be groomed as Dumpie's little man servant until he leaves home?

Hmmm...only time will tell.  But in the meantime I have pressing issues.  With no real nausea to speak of - only sheer CONSTANT exhaustion (which shows no signs of abating) - my biggest dilemma at present is how on earth I'm supposed to get through the next several months with my once fabulous wardrobe drying up by the day.

I'm in the unhappy stage of not looking obviously pregnant per se, but am sporting a beer belly of sorts - looking like I've been boozing it up at my local whilst eating all the pies in sight.  Great.

Sayonara skinny jeans and cheekbones...hello big girls blouses and water retention.

(Note:  I have to devote another whole blog post to our festival weekend...as it was SO amazing and we all had such a brilliant time, that even Dumpie deciding to wee surreptitiously on the husband's leg underneath the table where we sat indulging in afternoon tea, did little to dampen the enthusiasm.  I think.)

No bath or showers for three days...yippee!