So today is my official due date.
Too bad no-one told the baby that.
Having been convinced he would be early - I was early, Steve was early and I foolishly listened to everyone telling me that there was no way I was going to make it to my due date, I was just too big - I have now resigned myself to the fact that I will probably still be pregnant at Christmas.
I just don't understand why he doesn't want to be born yet.
I have explained to him that EVERYTHING is ready; we have built the pram, packed the bags, all his clothes are washed and put away, his moses basket is set up and ready, the house is clean and tidy, the Olympics are over so there are no distractions and, on Sunday, his Nana, Nanny and uncles even helped to put the owl decal up in his room.
We are ready!
I then decided to change tactic and telling all the things he is missing out on - Olympic closing ceremony (you missed the Spice Girls baby boy!! And Jessie J is a skin tight cat suit - you'll regret not seeing that when you are 15), a yummy takeaway pizza tea, a 4th birthday party with a real life Peppa Pig, Tilly the dog running into a ditch of water thinking it was grass and a big bonfire with your Dad and uncles.
Bumping into my year 5 teacher on a walk, I asked her to shout at him to get out in her most scary voice, I mean, it petrified me as a 10 year old and we did whatever she said. But apparently Baby Parham is a tad more stubborn than me. Or else too scared.
I then tried bribery - yep, resorted to it before I am even a parent. I told him that if he came within 24 hours then I would let him have all the Pom Bear crisps he liked and maybe even some sweets.
So now, I am going to aggressively poke my belly until he puts in an appearance.
Has to be worth a shot.
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