Another week, and more nail chewing waiting for the current Mrs Six to go into labour- my fingers are down to stubbs with anxious waiting; so much so I am typing this currently with my nose (It would be inappropriate to use other extremities in work). I am most definitely of the opinion that evolution is seriously letting us down with this child-birth malarkey – how have we not evolved a better way to continue the species?
It is a little easier the second time around but not by much – number 2 brings with it fresh new challenges and interesting experiences every day. Here’s the formulae:
hormonal pregnant lady + devilish little 2 year old = explosive household.
To illustrate – here is a transcript of a conversation I heard take place in casa del Mr Six the other morning when I was getting ready for work;
Little Miss Six: “Mummy…”
Mrs Six: “Yes darlin’.”
Little Miss Six: “Can I play with my Princess jigsaw.”
Mrs Six: “I think it’s upstairs Penny in your bedroom”
Little Miss Six: “No problem Mummy – I’ll get it – I’m not fat and lazy like you..”
We’ve also had this week; “Mummy’s grumpy like the Beast”, “I love Daddy so much, he’s nicer than Mummy” and a “Thanks soooooo very much for that” dripping with a depth of sarcastic tonality usually reserved by teenage alpha-girls (and Mancunian Middle-aged Dads – I swore blind to my wife I had no idea where she got it from!)
On the bright side – I am pleased with Little Ms Six’s developing conversational ability and awareness of the world around her. If anyone has any outlines for a good session on diplomacy & tact send them my way.
Any day now for number 2 to pop out – I’ll see you on the other side.