Returning to the diaries after time to digest our news - that I'm already 3 months pregnant with baby number 2! A scan last week revealed a waving, bouncing little splodge, rather than the tiny ball of cells expected. A brilliant turn up for the books, and then the morning sickness hit... Baby *2 is why starting VanRoe was the best and absolute worst choice I could have made while fettling Baby *1. I've the luxury of being as sick as I like, and don't have to board a train with a 101 chaps in suits and tourists wielding rucksacks. I don't have to worry and worry some more about "performing under par", about leaving at 5.30 sharp, or what clients might think of my whiffing of 20 Kraft cheese slices eaten straight out of the plastic.
On the other hand, I've very little income, no official maternity leave, and feel criminally guilty if I let things slide. After all, VanRoe isn't quite a baby - William fulfils that role more than adequately - but it's maybe on a par with a rescue puppy from the RSPCA. It needs some looking after and, as my Mum said almost catatonic with shock, I'm going to have my hands full.