My Baby's Baby

Brace yourselves, it’s a blog entry.

We had an announcement to make. Actually, we’ve had an announcement to make for weeks, but I’ve had to wait until now to say anything as one of wifey’s friend’s needed telling in person, what with it affecting bridesmaid dresses and all that. And then I tweet-booked it and no one noticed. My ego is sorely bruised.

Anyway, introducing:

Personally I’m of the opinion it’s a she. But I’ve have also been telling people I think the picture looks like Tweety Bird, so what do I know?

Let’s cover the basics:

• Due in January. The 10th according to the maternity-math, though going on her parent’s form she’ll be about 10 days late, making her a lovely birthday gift for her northern Nan.
• Yes, planned. Or “knowing you two, it was planned” as my Dad expressed it. Not sure if that’s a compliment or not...
• Yes, I’m the father. Cheeky.

The first trimester went well. For me, at least. Wifey suffered quite a bit, but she’s been living with me for a good few years now and I think she welcomed a different kind of torment.

We’re now well into the second trimester and the nausea’s gone, but tiredness, hunger and my questionable sense of humour have persisted. You’ve got to feel sorry for the poor woman.

According to the best science that one can find in an Android app, my little girl is almost 11cm “from crown to rump”, weighs nearly 90grams and is growing by a third of a centimetre every day. I keep wanting to say “Fatty! Fatty! Fatty!” to her, but I should probably wait until she’s at least born before screwing her life up.