As you know, Bumbaleerie Mansions is the Buck Pal of Central Scotland and I love it with my entire face, but it is a tad high-maintenance. We have people here fixing things all the time. ALL THE TIME. Today, we are having more work done. I should say now that the people who are here today are the nicest people we've ever had working in the crib, they really are lovely. This post is not a reflection on them AT ALL. But it is challenging for me in many ways to have strangers in the house, because I have to try and pretend to be normal. Now! Usually, this is not a problem. I have managed to convince many, many tens of people over the years that I am a normal person. Sadly, at nine months preggers, this skill has deserted me. Here are some things I do in my daily (maternity-leave) life that I imagine most people do not do:
1. I sit upside down, with my legs up the wall, due to having the most ginormous ankles. I don't think this actually does anything, but it makes me feel proactive. I feel like I cannot do this with people in the house.
2. I chain-drink tea. I put one out and spark up the kettle again. It's not normal, except in my extended family, where it is totally normal, and you are a wimp if you can't handle forty cups a day.
3. Due to the perfect one, I have the most horrific heartburn (aside: our baby has TONNES of hair, we saw it on the scan. He/she's already got a mohawk!) and I'm just TOO BUSY to carefully measure the Gaviscon every time so.....and I'm not proud of this....I just swig it out the bottle. I'm worried that if they see me doing this, they'll phone....I dunno....the police or someone and shop me for being on the hard stuff.
4. I knit all the time. No, that's a lie. I knit in SHORT BURSTS and then leave it lying behind me. I have a criminally short attention span, so there's wool everywhere, like in the bathroom and in the garden. Husband finds this very endearing (false).
Not to mention:
5. I have lost the ability to make conversation with strangers. You know how, when you're at work, you're introduced to someone who you have NOTHING in common with, but you have to crack on because that's your job? So you have to be all 'so, do you live close by? Oh, Outer Mongolia? That's handy for work!' etc? I have lost this now. I try so hard to make small talk, so I'll maybe think of a funny story about the stupid cat which in my head is very funny and endearing. But it ends up coming out as 'Look! My cat is stupid and other one is unfriendly! Hahahahahahaa!' then wandering off. It's dreadful.
6. My memory, never brilliant, has now left me completely. We were buying some baby junk the other day, and for some reason we had to give our address (why have shops started doing this now?) - I had not a clue what number we lived at. I gave her the postcode, she told me the street, I nodded, and she said 'Which number of Bumbaleerie Avenue?' and I just stared at her. 'Em. What are the options?' I asked. 'Um, there are quite a few' she said, 'what end do you live at? Is it a high number?' 'I dunno.' I said. 'Wait and I'll get my husband' and Husband had to come along and save me. Even typing this now, I had to pause to think about it. The number is on the front door, if I get really stuck. But she clearly thought I was some kind of burgling terrorist address pretender! Hideous. And it's the same when I'm actually IN my house. Husband has moved my car a few doors up to let the people into the drive, and I went to the shop earlier and wandered right past. Right past my own crib! And they keep asking things like 'where's the bathroom?' and I just point vaguely upstairs and wish them well. It's torture.
ANYWAY! Some making news! I finished the cardi lo!
What an amazing picture that is. Anyway, apart from the buttons, it is done! So you know what that means! MOAR KNITTING!
Husband is aware of my new-found awkwardness around strangers, and I think it worries him a bit because when he left this morning, he said 'Just.......just.....just.......TRY TO LEAVE THEM ALONE, will you? Remember, they're working, they don't want to be interrupted every five minutes.' and I winked at him and said 'You betcha guvna! I'll just axe them if they'z wantin' a cuppa!' then I did a wee sailor's jig through to the kitchen but then I FORGOT to put my normal accent back on and ended up asking them if they wanted 'a brewsky' and how long they'd 'been in this crazy game we call plumbing'. By the time I got back to the living room, Husband was hiding his face in a cushion, and kind of...groaning. 'Please just leave them alone, please just let them get on with it' he pleaded. 'Please. We need to get it done today'. I was still mortified by the frat-boy persona that I'd manage to adopt in the hallway between the living room and the kitchen so I just nodded silently and switched the laptop on. And that's how I got to this point in my life.