I miss my boy

I have been poorly sick. The sort of poorly sick that means you spend a lot of time sweating and shivering on the bathroom floor in equal proportions. Unfortunately the sickness had nothing whatsoever to do with gin. It may have had something to do with mackerel, or perhaps to do with time spent crawling around on floors that need a good dettoling. It has not been fun. I'm still not quite right.

My little boy was whisked away from the vomiting by his daddy and today by his Nana. I have seen him for a sum total of about an hour in the past two days. I miss him terribly. He is coming home soon. I promise not to breathe on him. I don't want him to be poorly too.

I'm sure this seperation has been good for my control freak tendancies. However it has not been in the least bit fun. Two days off from mummying duties and I've spent most of it in the toilet. And no before you ask - I am NOT pregnant again.

Introducing....

...Baby Jones!

You may have noticed that I've been a bit quiet of late - that's because when you have a HUGE secret it's a struggle to write about anything else. But now - as you can see - the secret's out and Mr Jones and I are having a baby. We are rather excited.

My silence has also been thanks to the fact that I have spent most of the past five weeks kneeling on the floor of various lavatories and struggling to keep down anything other than baked beans, fish fingers and (I can hardly stand to type this) - Smash! Baby Jones, it seems, is not a fan of anything healthy and is clearly from the turkey twizzler school of eating. Water, fruit, vegetables have all been rejected for a staple of beans and junk.

There have been anti-sickness tablets and much talk of drips and hospitals (thankfully avoided). Mr Jones has had a baptism of fire into married life and has had to become cook, cleaner, nurse and chief hair-holder-backer. Bless him.

As a person not always blessed with emotional stability I am pleased to report that so far I haven't had any mental meltdowns. Although I did burst into tears in the centre of Stamford because a Gospel Choir were singing and it sounded lovely - hmm!

Yesterday my lips decided to swell to enormous proportions - a reaction to the anti-sickness drugs - so I now resemble Mick Jagger - nice - and the tablets have had to stop. So do leave a clear path between me and the nearest loo.

But other than that all is well. Baby Jones is 4.5cm long and very wriggly, from certain angles he/she looks like a frog - bless.

Normal blogging service will now return. I promise to try not to bore you to tears.