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The Mother (in-Law) of All Weeks

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- The continuing trials of an accidental mother - Week 20.

There I was pimping my bump on the front cover of The Weekend Magazine in a skin-tight long sleeved t-shirt with the word LUCKY emblazoned across my chest. The headline read, Knocked Up At 42, a tad on the brash, crass side then again...

This week would turn out to be the mother (in law) of all weeks. It began on a high.
"Hi..."
After a month's absence, the Glam Rocker arrived back.
The door swung open and I/we appeared. He was shocked by the size of the bump. He pretended he wasn't but he was. He looked everywhere but at the bump, our bump.
"You'll get used to it," I assured him.
"Oh yeah, sure, eh. Yeah..."

After the fast living, rock star adrenaline pumped existence of nonstop touring, partying and god knows what else, the Glam Rocker announced it would take a while to settle back into civvy life.
To hasten the process, within two hours of his arrival, jet-lagged and plane-weary, I dragged him straight to the antenatal unit for our 20-week scan.

It was a wholly disappointing procedure. We waited three hours before being seen. When finally we were, the baby was curled up like a fern. I was ordered to eat chocolate (Ha, ordered to eat chocolate! What an oxymoron.)

Alas, nothing was budging our Interloper into action. We couldn't get a decent view. The only thing that was measurable was its head, which apparently was bigger than average - OUCH.

Next, I found out one of my film scripts was short listed for a funding prize. Tight rope walking the holy grail of movie making, I crossed fingers, toes, eyes and wires on the way. Then, another teaching job appeared. I jumped at the opportunity as soon enough my earning capacity would dwindle to an economy based on the internal productivity of nappies.

And so the week hurtled forward towards another but this time 'expected' arrival... that of the Glam Rocker's mum, (Glam Ma?).

Glam Ma is a French woman who has spent most of her life in Scotland. A mother of five boys there would be no wool pulling over her eyes. She is a force of energy and best of all loves little babies. This was music to my ears.

Glam Ma arrived on the Friday and ... (This following section had to be censored due to the libellous nature of the content) a lovely evening was had.

So came Saturday and there I was whizzing round the area buying up all the Irish Independents in W9, before hurrying round to show the feature to my blissfully unaware parents. They were gob smacked, 'and some'. As for the Teenager, he may have muttered a few elongated 'Mum's' but didn't appear overly distressed or embarrassed.

Later that evening in our favourite Dalston Chinese, I hand delivered a copy to the Glam's (Rocker and Ma) and lived to tell the tale. Still one day of the week to go, Sunday, aka the meeting of the tribes. A gastro foodie paradise was the chosen location.

Would the families pass muster with each other or just pass mustard to each other?

TO BE CONTINUED

The Halfway Point
A milestone reached, metaphorically and in weight too. Halfway into your pregnancy now you might be able to feel your baby's first movements, known as quickening. By now your baby measures approx160 millimeters long from crown to teeny tiny rump.