The green dinosaurs

Our friends, James and Claire, stayed over at our house last night.  They went to a wedding celebration in the afternoon then came to ours in the evening.  James was parking up when Claire came in.  She gave Erin a huge hug, then it was my turn, but she rubbed my belly too saying 'this is what we should do isn't it?' I was confused, and slightly self conscious - actually, very self conscious and know that pregnant women must feel ten times worse.  Then James came in with his own usual fanfare and the hugs were given with the following belly rub; once could have been a mistake, twice was an obvious ploy.  

I looked at them both and they said: 'We know the rules. We shouldn't rub Erin's belly, we know, we've been reading the blog on the way down here. So we thought we'd treat you.'  

Thanks guys.

James had printed the whole thing out and read it to Claire in the car.  Poor Claire.  And throughout the evening I heard my words quoted back to me about Angry Pregnant, conditions, and of course, belly rubbing.

The conversation stayed with babies for a while as the celebration they had come from was, apparently, teaming with little tykes.  James had been playing with a few of the toddlers and ended halfway up a chimney 'in the search for dinosaurs'.  So did he see any? 'No, I can't, silly, we adults can't see them but the kids tell me they are green.'  

Wow.

They've just recently had the arrival of their niece, Maia.  We were shown the photos from their Facebook page and on James' phone.  She was gorgeous.  I don't know what has happened to me since finding out about our pregnancy.  (I used to think they all looked like a very tired, beaten up, Winston Churchill, but now they seem to be adorable.  I'm obviously losing it.)  James gave us an insight into the first two weeks of a baby's life: 'They don't react to you, no smiles, they are just crying and shitting machines.'

As the weekend progressed I'd love to say the conversation did too. But aside from a little Olympics, Russia/Georgia issue and general catch up, with them living very near to their god daughters, we had lots of lively debates about how to bring up children.  It was great, but it's these conversations I'm only just getting used to joining in with. It was unchartered territory until only a few months ago. 

Bellyache

Today, Erin experienced what many pregnant women have uttered either on blogs or in person happen. She had her belly patted.  Some friends of ours saw this happening and seemed stunned, reacting: 'Is he allowed to do that?'

I wasn't sure and neither was Erin but three different people did it independently - admittedly, all are pretty close friends. It was a bit of a surprise as neither Erin nor I have been this excited while seeing other pregnant friends or family.

While chatting, after we left the party, Erin said she generally doesn't feel like she looks pregnant and that she has just put a little weight on and when her belly is touched she gets quite self-conscious. She's not showing too much and nobody seems to notice that she's pregnant unless we or others in the group talk about it. But when people see her for the first time since they've found out they get very excited.  I guess that's how people want to show their affection, instead of a usual hug.

Erin's also become conscious that people are talking to her as if she's now a pregnancy expert and other topics of conversations are difficult to get into even though she's the same intelligent, arty, politically minded, interesting person as before.

On another note, apparently pregnancy can lead not only to a loss of teeth but loss of brain cells.  Is this for the father too?  Erin hasn't demonstrated too much difference in her thinking and levels of concentration but I seem to be losing it for two.  

I've forgotten my Oyster Card twice this week.  The second time was after making sure Erin had hers.  I went back for mine, got it, then dropped it as it was supposed to go in my pocket, I carried on to the bus stop where Erin was waiting and then had to trace my steps right back home to eventually find it.  

If I can't look after a little card how am I suppose to bring up a child?  At the party people were telling me I'll be a great dad.  I really do hope so.