Ahem. Right. Have been wondering how best to euphemise the undeniable fact that I am now about 5 weeks pregnant with my fourth child. Maybe best just to come right out and say it. So, it has come to my attention that we shall we having another baby at the end of January next year. Woo hoo!
Good things about that:
I love having babies
I want 4, so bring it on
Pregnancy is relatively kind to me – gives me bouncy hair
I am young (this is a relative point – in my hometown I may well be about the age of some grandmothers – I kid you not – but here, pretty much Spring Lambish)
Husband delighted, kids seem nonchallant in a good way
Can begin to think about what I want to do when I grow up, as the end of my childbearing years creep ever closer. Like, be a proper Lawyer! or retrain to be a Teacher! (Not a Journalist, apparently, as last job so painfully/ruthlessly/undeniably spelled out for me. Sigh.)
Bad things about that:
Everyone will assume we are from a religious sect
I will feel that everyone is secretly pitying me
I will be a bit fat for a bit longer
The midwives at St Marys, Paddington, will go “Oh, you! Again!” ha ha ha zzzzz
I will have to make boring self-deprecating noises about how it is funny and a bit strange of us to want SUCH a LARGE family
The crazy old lady with the small annoying dog in Kensington Palace Gardens who muttered under her breath when she saw me with Barnaby and Noah and while pregnant with Casper: “Breeding like bloody rabbits!” will feel morally outraged once more and come out with something equally mean. I will fix her with my Hormonally Imbalanced Pregnant Lady Stare.
No wine. And we are off to Nice on Monday. No cheese either. Bloody salmonella and fetal alcohol syndrome.
Stylish clothes. I will love you from afar.
Yup. So, Barnaby will be just-turned-5, Noah 3, Casper nearly 2. It is going to be wild. Not like cool wild, but fun wild. I promise.