August and in the THIRD TRIMESTER!

Now I know I look HUUUUUWGE, but it REALLY is just the fact that I got confused with the European sizing in France and SOMEONE told me that 40 was 14...It's NOT it's 12 - booby and bulging or wot!

So apparently 'The Bof' is now a whopping 40cm, I can believe it, as I now have to stop eating BEFORE I am full up, which would be great IF everyone in my lovely family weren't such great cooks!

France was lovely, great time away with our mates, and totally and utterly made the most of the time we had to relax, in fact every time I had a couple of hours where I could just laze by the pool and read my book I did think to myself that it would be approximately 20 years before I would be able to do this again.

Developments since last post:

- Full on jumping out of chairs when kicked/thumped in ribs by 'The Bof', which sometimes is so forceful it makes people in the same room as me jump as well.

- Ribs have started the slow discomforting journey outwards - seriously, my RIBS MOVE?! No one told me that!

- My brain is continuing to reduce in size, examples FAR to numerous to mention, but at least it's been proven to actually happen in 'small clinical trials' - and it's NOT JUST ME!

- Realised I am completely mental, when I ended up in floods of tears when NO ONE offered me their seat on the train one evening on the way home last week, and I had to stand up till Streatham (15 mins from Clapham. One bloke I even caught, looking up, seeing my huge bump and then quickly closing his eyes pretending he was asleep! The problem is, when I DO get a seat I think that the world is a wonderful place and that everyone in it is lovely and sweet, this time I went entirely for the opposite viewpoint, and thought the world to be the most horrible place, and everyone in it inherently evil! I got so upset in fact that I JUST ABOUT held it together (although tears were welling) till I got home, collapsed on the bed in floods of tears, only just about managing to tell Matt it was nothing for him to worry about before he got on the phone to the midwife, or worse national rail?

Pics courtesy of Matty!