I think when you're pregnant you're about five degrees hotter anyway than other people, so in this heat at almost thirty-eight weeks pregnant, I've been literally hallucinating about jumping me and my big belly into a humungous bath tub. Or even better...a river. Or better still.... a lake. OR....and this would be my ultimate fantasy right now...the wide open sea.
This is my mother standing at the top in the spotty bikini when she did the hippy thing in Crete in the late sixties and lived in a cave (mind you, she's only just got back from two and a half years of travelling round Africa, so I guess the hippy in her is still going strong). I must confess that a cave wouldn't be top of my list of places to live in my condition, but AH, to live by the sea now! I would lie on my back all day long and float me and bump up and down on the waves. Ha, well I can dream. Instead, Lily has been sat in a bucket in the garden for most of the day, Maya defies the heat altogether and walks around in full on long sleeved tops under dresses, topped off with a snow white outfit whilst their Mama slinks from shadow to shadow and pours glasses of water over her head.
Enough moaning. The purpose of this blog was really to say the following: thank the lord for my mother. I know Amma doesn't read my blog. But I don't know what I would have done without her in the past weeks. On many, many days she has taken the girls when I've not slept much. And if it's just been for an hour or two, it's been seriously helpful. Today, for example, was a very long, hot, tired day but the hour and a half that she took Maya and Lily this morning was a godsend and means that now, come the evening, I am still tired...but I am not passing out.
So - .if you ever read this - thank you Amma. But even if you don't, that's fine too, because I'm constantly relaying my gratitude. I hope it's enough!
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