Oh why are we waiting? Wh-y are we waiting?

Not much to report, other than there are all the signs that Snowy is ready to come out but doesn't want to leave his mums belly just yet.

Tricky has had lots of practice contractions, there's lots of semi-painful intra-uterine gymnastics going on, there's plenty of pooh action and she's recently started hobbling around like an old cowboy in need of a hip replacement. These are apparently all signs that the real thing is not far away. We actually went in to the hospital at Kingston for the midwife to give her the once over, only to be told they were still the Braxton-Hicks contractions and, yes, you're in for some serious pain, especially with a husband who has a head that size. Yes my head is very large, as Tricky reminds me frequently when she says this baby had better not take after me in the head-size department.

Snowy to mum. “I’m coming out soon. Please have dinner on the table”

Tricky is now almost 38 weeks pregnant. 37 weeks is considered full-term. That means Snowy could come out any time now.

Last night, Tricky had some fairly strong Braxton Hicks contraction type pains and discomfort (I want to have some bodily function named after me one day – it will probably be related to flatulence.) They were strong enough that she woke me to talk to me about them, although I wasn't much help other than mumbling a few words of reassurance and fetching a heat pack. At least I think it was a heat pack I put in the microwave. It could have been a loaf of bread or a melon for all I know, but she didn't complain. Actually, considering she has a bladder the size of a thimble, lungs like two small paper bags, and intestines like a long flattened bicycle tube, not to mention the budding footballer/kickboxer she's carrying around inside her, Tricky complains very little. If it were men who got pregnant instead of women, they would spend most of their time complaining to their mates about it and spending vast amounts of money trying to invent ways for women to have babies instead of them. So whilst the time for Snowy to come out fast approaches, he is not actually doing very much in there. Snowy's putting on a bit of fat here and there, sucking in some amniotic fluid (mmm, yum), practising breathing (which causes him to hiccup), losing some more lanugo (special baby body hair), trampolining on mum's bladder and park benching his little arse on her ribs. But mostly he's just lazing about in a lovely warm environment, wondering how long its all going to last. Its going to last about another two to four weeks, little Snowy. It would be cool if you would come out in the next 24 hours. that way Tricky and I could be home from hospital in time to watch The Ashes fourth test. Otherwise, in your own time. Either way, we can't wait to meet you.

Motley the cat.

Our cat, Motley, is 14 years old. We've had him since he was a kitten and he rules the four-legged animal kingdom in our house with his sharp claws and cool don't-give-a-shit gaze.

The other night, Motley had a seizure. It was a frightening enough experience for Tricky and I can't imagine what it was like for him. It lasted about 30 seconds, then he was panting and disoriented for quite a few minutes after that. He sort of recovered, in the sense that he got up and walked around – albeit a bit unsteadily – but seemed detached from his environment, as though everything was new to him. Of course, we took him to the vet the next day. The news was not great. Motley had high blood pressure, an enlarged hypothalamus and both retinas were partially detached (due to the high blood pressure or maybe the seizure) which explained the sense that he seemed disoriented Some blood tests also showed he has signs of Feline Infectious Peritonitis which is not a very nice cat disease, with no cure and a poor prognosis. Cats are supposed to deteriorate fairly quickly after it first begins to cause problems. We agreed with the Vet to give him some medication for the high blood pressure, take him home and give him some loving. He seems to have recovered a little, has adapted to the partial loss of his sight and is pretty much acting as though nothing happened. That means eating, sleeping, meow because you're hungry, more sleeping, scratch claws on the scratching pole, sit (or sleep) in front of the back door so that the two dogs won't dare come in or out, sleep some more, eat some more, sleep. Tricky has nicknamed Motley 'Mary Ingalls' after the character in that '70s (!) TV show 'Little House on the Prairie' who was blinded by scarlet fever (as an aside, I discovered today that Mary Ingalls and all of the other Ingalls were real people!) We have to take Motley to see the vet again in a couple of weeks.

Some quick updates

• More bombs today. 1 bus, 3 on tubes. None exploded thank God (insert deity of choice.)
• I've been riding to work since that day. I'd forgotten there is a great and beautiful city above the tube tunnels. My thighs are killing me, but I feel great. This is the most exercise I've done in a long time.
• Snowy continues to grow. We can feel a little curvy bum and what must be elbows, knees or feet. We can't wait to meet this baby. Around eight weeks to go.
• Tricky has adopted the pregnant lady waddle.
• Forgot to post on my birthday. Besides the fantastic 4D Snowy ultrasound, Tricky got me a short course in painting at the Putney School of Art and Design. Starts in September. Can't wait for that either.
• I'm getting a bit bored of blogging. Maybe I need to do it more often, but I feel there are more important things to think of at this time.

It was my birthday yesterday…

..and some bombs went off in London today.

I had a big shock when I arrived at work. I'd had to walk across Hyde park because my train terminated unexpectedly three stops short of my stop. Why? Londoners have been victims of 4 terrorist bomb attacks today. There are dozens killed, hundreds injured. I feel a bit overwhelmed, not least because one of the bomb blasts was at a Tube station only a few hundred metres from Paddington, the stop I get off at every weekday, near St. Mary's hospital. I work there as a clinical pharmacist in the vascular surgery ward. The hospital initiated a Major Incident plan to cope with the injured. It was a slightly surreal experience working there today, knowing that I would be involved, in a small way in the treatment of some of these people. there was a very odd calmness all over the hospital. Tricky and I talk about this every now and then. It was one of our greatest fears when we first arrived in London. Terrorist threats were in the news every night. Then we sort of forgot about it and got on with our lives. I catch the Tube every day. And today it really did happen and it felt all too real and too close. I'm not just watching this on the televison news. All of our London friends are accounted for. I can't understand why people want to hurt other people who are just going about their lives. I'm a bit overwhelmed and can't really write much more today. I feel really tired. I'll try to write more later. I think I might ride my bike to work tomorrow.