Waiting
Waiting rooms, queues, waiting lists, resturants, cinemas, amusement parks. Us British will wait for anything it seems. It's like one of those great British traditions. If someone queue jumps then immediately those of us who are patiently waiting in line will look round at each other, momentarily united in our 1) disapproval of the queue jumpers totally unacceptable behaviour and 2) wry acceptance of this queue as our lot in life.
People get REALLY upset about queue jumpers in Post Offices. Perhaps it's the demographic, though that would be a very sweeping statement and not one I have any empirical evidence to back it up with but I've definately noticed a lot of queue hate in Post Offices. Considering how emphatically British Post Offices are, there's a lot of non-British-like anti-queue behaviour going on.
Of course the kind of waiting I'm really getting at though in this blog is the kind of waiting I'm experiencing at the moment.
I'm pregnant. Make that VERY pregnant. 39 weeks today to be precise and those women out there who have been this pregnant will have a severe case of empathy with me right now because they will know just how NON-British I am feeling at this present moment.
I want to stamp my feet and lie down exhausted at the same time. I want to play with my two other kids but its a case of not only is the generally willing spirit unfortunately affected by tiredness but the body is knackered too, never mind weak. I'm hungry but if I eat I'll 'know it' within a few minutes, if I don't eat then I'll also know it.
My midwife sent me off cheerfully last week saying that she'll see me in a couple of weeks but 'nudge nudge' maybe before... She also said she'll give me a 'sweep' on my due date if I want which will be a charming thing to look forward to. No doubt at that particular stage in this waiting game I'll be up for anything.
I'm a people person probably 98% of the time. I really do like people. They fascinate me and are endlessly interesting but I do swear, if one more wellmeaning person says 'still here?' I may have to re-evaluate my percentage. So this blog is partly probably apology to the few people I've near enough snarled at over the last few days and partly, erm, something else which escapes me from starting this particular sentence. Because that is another excellent part of the maternal waiting game. Forgetfulness. Aaand, still nothing, ah well.
The pain of childbirth is inevitable of course and some people have pointed out that I am wishing on myself faster the pain but honestly, at this point I'd rather just get it out of the way and done with with as little fuss and sutures as possible and meet my new little girl (assuming the two Sonographers I quizzed did in fact get it right) but certainly baby. I want to get on with the rest of our lives because I feel like everyone in this house is on hold waiting for my body to do something. My body IS the queue and I am so ready to be at the front now.
People get REALLY upset about queue jumpers in Post Offices. Perhaps it's the demographic, though that would be a very sweeping statement and not one I have any empirical evidence to back it up with but I've definately noticed a lot of queue hate in Post Offices. Considering how emphatically British Post Offices are, there's a lot of non-British-like anti-queue behaviour going on.
Of course the kind of waiting I'm really getting at though in this blog is the kind of waiting I'm experiencing at the moment.
I'm pregnant. Make that VERY pregnant. 39 weeks today to be precise and those women out there who have been this pregnant will have a severe case of empathy with me right now because they will know just how NON-British I am feeling at this present moment.
I want to stamp my feet and lie down exhausted at the same time. I want to play with my two other kids but its a case of not only is the generally willing spirit unfortunately affected by tiredness but the body is knackered too, never mind weak. I'm hungry but if I eat I'll 'know it' within a few minutes, if I don't eat then I'll also know it.
My midwife sent me off cheerfully last week saying that she'll see me in a couple of weeks but 'nudge nudge' maybe before... She also said she'll give me a 'sweep' on my due date if I want which will be a charming thing to look forward to. No doubt at that particular stage in this waiting game I'll be up for anything.
I'm a people person probably 98% of the time. I really do like people. They fascinate me and are endlessly interesting but I do swear, if one more wellmeaning person says 'still here?' I may have to re-evaluate my percentage. So this blog is partly probably apology to the few people I've near enough snarled at over the last few days and partly, erm, something else which escapes me from starting this particular sentence. Because that is another excellent part of the maternal waiting game. Forgetfulness. Aaand, still nothing, ah well.
The pain of childbirth is inevitable of course and some people have pointed out that I am wishing on myself faster the pain but honestly, at this point I'd rather just get it out of the way and done with with as little fuss and sutures as possible and meet my new little girl (assuming the two Sonographers I quizzed did in fact get it right) but certainly baby. I want to get on with the rest of our lives because I feel like everyone in this house is on hold waiting for my body to do something. My body IS the queue and I am so ready to be at the front now.
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