Some things are very different second time around.
Some things are very different second time around, aren’t they?
I can now add maternity leave to that list; the pre-baby part, at least.
Last time, there were numerous coffee dates to commiserate with other pregnant and overdue friends. This time, we’re all a bit too tired to even pencil something in, whether pregnant or not - and, of course, we’re wise to the fact that a gathering of toddlers in a coffee shop is a bit too much like hard work.
Where before I busied myself finding productive little tasks to fill my day (around the edges of various glorious naps), even going so far as to iron Tibbons’s clothes in preparation for his arrival, this time I have a list that stretches to four sides of A4, filled with things that I should really get done before the baby arrives - or resign myself to them remaining undone in six months’ time.
And that’s without going anywhere near an iron.
Of course, last time I didn’t have a lovely little two-year-old companion to help me fill my days (hence the ironing of little baby socks, oh, and the glorious naps); nor, though, did I have any reason to feel guilty that an exciting day would comprise a trip to the garden centre to buy a new watering can.
Poor Tibbons! I can only hope that the low-octane nature of our current activities means a newborn baby sibling will compare rather favourably.
Mind you, there are some things that don’t change. Already, I find myself storing up little anecdotes throughout the day to share with Daddy-O when he gets home, now that I don’t have work as a ready source of conversation (arguably, my tale of how the coffee shop ran out of coffee is at least as entertaining as the one where the printer at work ran out of ink).
And there’s still the constant sense of waiting. And watching. And wondering. When will it all happen? Anybody?
Maybe I’ll have some news for you next week - and, if not, you can look forward to a feature-length rant.