Gosh, but being pregnant is tiring!

It’s all gone a bit quiet on the blog front, of late. Kevin has been busy trying to keep the house from decending into a cesspit of squalor, whilst I’ve been alternately sleeping and watching the most appalling trash on the TV. That’s about the top and bottom of it, really. I’m yawning just thinking about it.

Kevin is being an absolute star, and I’m finding it difficult to say as many nice, encouraging things as he frankly deserves to hear. Because, let’s be honest, I can’t actually help criticising when he does things… differently than I was hoping. But I hate myself for it, because he’s running himself ragged, trying to do all the household jobs he was doing before (cooking, mostly, and some tidying up), along with all the jobs I was doing before (he says I’m not allowed to use the bathroom-cleaning chemicals, and I simply don’t have the energy for the dusting and mopping and dishwashing jobs), with, for good measure, the extra work of pandering to a petulant, hormone-crazed woman who’s as likely to ask for Ready Brek at 4am, as not.

And then I complain that he doesn’t talk to me enough, which is hardly suprising, considering how rarely he sits down.

So, here, in this public forum, I would like to say: Kevin, you are a wonderful, wonderful man. I love you with all my heart, I’m desperately grateful for how hard you’ve been working, and I only wish I knew how to treat you as well as you deserve.

That’s all.