Ten stone

37 weeks, 5 days

Today is the day that I tipped the scales at ten stone.  Officially the heaviest I've ever been, and fast catching up with my husband :-).  "Jack Sprat could eat no fat his wife could eat no lean" springs to mind.  So that's just shy of two stone so far.  Given that the baby weighs in at less than a quarter of this (just over 6 pounds at the latest scan), it seems a lot, but I've been assured that anything between 25 to 35 pounds is considered normal.

I've been reading about one of the not quite so pleasant post partum effects...profuse night sweating as my body attempts to shed all of the extra fluid it's been holding on to.  And if my legs are anything to go by it feels like there could be quite a lot.  I look down at them and feel about a hundred and fifty years old.  Ankles bones appear to be history for now.

And my activities for the next day or so?  I shall be mostly eating it seems, which may just blow the "normal" 35 pounds out of the water. 

And why shall I be mostly eating?  I have been left in charge of my in-laws' house and their dogs as they head to Madrid.  Last night I was given a tour of the kitchen to show me all of the food that has been left for us.  They are away for 36 hours.  The amount of food makes it look as if it could be nearer 36 weeks.  Both fridges and the freezer are packed to the gills with pre-cooked and fresh food, the table is groaning under the weight of the fruit fresh from yesterday's market and they've bought in extra chocolate in case my sweet cravings kick in.  At least taking the dogs for a walk will give me some exercise, although a 19 year-old Yorkshire terrier and an 8 year-old Basset Hound that has to be coaxed out of the door with biscuits don't threaten much of a sweat.