Now y'all know how much I love Dear So and So, so imagine my excitement when I saw that Kat is reinstating it, official like. I couldn't let the possibility of a proper Dear So and So pass, particularly when so spectacularly pregnant and grumpy. Have a go yourself, and go sign up at Kat's so we can come and read it.
Dear All,
Yes, I am STILL HERE, although thinking of hiding away and forcing Dave to do all forms of social interaction with the outside world. If nothing else, it would stop people nervously looking at my bump and obviously thinking to themselves don't go into labour here.
As bored of this pregnancy as you are,
Mamma Pants to be.
**********************************
Dear Boys,
You see just how big my belly is? Can you see that it is quite difficult for me to move fast, let alone run? Any chance that when you are cycling at full speed towards the rather full river you could not shout Mummy I can't remember how to brake and cause me to have to sprint quite a long way to catch you before you plunge over the bank?
Yours, secretly quite proud of her mobility,
Speedy Pants
**********************************
Dear single man driving smart car,
Parking in the mother and child spots at Sainsbury's (forcing me to park in a normal spot and then struggle to physically get out of the car) makes you an idiot. Choosing to take on the 41 weeks pregnant woman who challenged you as to your choice of parking spot makes you certifiably insane. A word of advice, an overdue woman is always right. It isn't worth your pain to suggest otherwise.
Hoping you have learnt a good lesson,
Pants
***********************************
Dear Vomiting Bug,
I appreciate that it is quite a laugh doing the rounds of a class, infecting every single child you come across. But I'm begging you, on bended knees, please could you spare my children, just this once. Later on in the season they're all yours, but I really would prefer to go through labour without worrying about the number of pukes in the house or feeling ghastly.
Yours, thinking about just how unfunny that would be,
Fearful Pants
***********************************
Dear self,
Have you really bought most of your Christmas presents already? Sit down, get a cup of tea and get back to the usual last minute panic state. It won't be Christmas without it.
Yours, not recognising who you have become,
organised Pants.
************************************
Dear Boys,
It is ever so sweet that you are liking to hug the baby at every opportunity. I'm just wondering where the scratch marks on my tummy have come from and whether the over enthusiastic cuddling is causing the baby to think twice about coming out just yet.
He loves the cuddles really and so do I,
Mummy xxx
*************************************
Dear Mid Wife,
All us pregnant women know that sex can bring on labour. We also all know about sex, that is what got us into this predicament in the first place. I don't really understand why you feel the need to be so coy about mentioning it.
Yours, having lost all dignity with the first baby and a long way from ever getting it back,
Pants
*******************************************
Dear Bosnian Football FA,
FIFA and UEFA are threatening to suspend you if you don't sort out your own house. You need to have one President (not 3) and whilst you are at it you ought to get rid of the mulititude of corrupt officials widely known to work in your offices. But the most annoying thing of all, if you do get yourselves kicked out, it is the ordinary Bosnians who will feel the suspension the most (although you might miss the vast amount of money that flows into your pockets from FIFA and UEFA funding).
Please, for the sake of the Bosnians, find something else to go and be cross about.
Irritable Pants
*****************************************
Dear The Wire,
I LOVE you. Totally and utterly adore you. But can't understand half of what is going on and feel the need to use subtitles for most episodes. Given that most of the actors are English, I'm impressed.
Yours, so excited to be really into a good series again,
Pants
*************************************
Dear Helen Archer,
You are fantastically annoying. In fact you are so annoying I may need to write a whole post about you because I'm not sure it will all fit onto a postcard.
Yours thinking you have no idea what you are talking about,
Pants
PS - if you don't listen to the Archers then you need to ignore this postcard
*****************************************
Dear Self,
You know how everyone else gets a nesting instinct? Any chance you could find yours and do some tidying? Fiddling around with blog layouts and colours doesn't really count. Besides, finding half your baby clothes would be infinitely more useful in the long term...
Yours, have you learnt nothing since becoming a parent?
Irresponsible Pants
*****************************************
Dear Blogger,
I hate your formatting. Why does it take so long and still looks all wrong. Sort. It. Out.
Yours,
Pants With Names and an Attitude
******************************************
Dear No. 3 son,
You coming out soon? Would be lovely to meet you. You'll love the boys, they'll provide you with hours of entertainment. I promise I'll protect you from their most boisterous excesses but they are actually pretty good with babies. Usually. Also would be nice if you removed your little elbow from my hip and stop pummelling the nerve that goes down my leg because that is making me a bit grumpy.
See you soon,
Mummy xxxxx
*****************************************