I’ve found writing and blogging to be nearly impossibly since the arrival of Oliver. It is not that I don’t have time to myself or that I don’t allow myself time to write. I certainly do and I am proud of the balance I have achieved. I take time out to listen to the rain on our tin roof. To watch hubby and O play in the back yard while I cook dinner. Or sometimes I just vege out ‘you know lay like broccoli’. Bonus points for guessing that movie reference.
But for some reason I have found the writing just hasn’t happened. I want to change that as I love reading back on old posts, it’s a moment in time that is great to reflect back on. Especially these few posts in a story about a bump. Alors…here is a story about another bump. I am now 24 weeks with bump number 2, the same stage in my first pregnancy as when I started this blog.
Last time 24 weeks was when ‘project bed rest’ commenced and lasted 10 weeks until the arrival of Oliver.
This however, is not project bed rest. It’s a little hard to do nothing when you have a toddler running around, giggling in his tee pee, climbing up on chairs and thinking you’re a rockstar. Yes I do believe that at this stage of his life O thinks both hubby and I are rockstars. I also believe this will change very quickly so I am making the most of household celebrity status.
Whilst I am not on strict bed rest I am aware that if I attempt to be a super hero it’s possible I’ll be admitted into hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy. Obviously this would not be ideal. Maybe this time around is ‘project slow down and try to put my feet up’. As my bump grows and Oliver makes my heart melt just by being Oliver I thought I might give writing a try again.
So here is my story about a bump. And a toddler.