I seem to have achieved an unlikely sort of credibility with the young muscle boys who staff my gym, a combination of having ridden a motorbike and now, keeping up with my gym sessions while 6 months pregnant. It's very odd as a 41 year old woman to get such a warm welcome from a demographic which would normally ignore me if not dismiss me entirely - but no, they give me a big welcome when I show up at the gym - they ask about the baby, they ask about the bike, they gather around... it's very endearing and completely surprising. So, ladies of a certain age... it's not glamourous, it's not sexy but you can still have cred. Sort of like being the cool granny who still has a glass of wine and says 'fuck'.
On the baby front I've reached the 6 month mark and the sudden growth I had at 5 months hasn't slowed down much. I look like I have a duvet up my jumper and I am having trouble getting comfortable. When I sit at my desk at work it's like having a beachball in my lap and I can't bear the thought of the next 3 months... hence the gym and my desperate attempt to limit the actual fat content of all this new girth.
The world continues to be a nicer place however. Seats appear on tubes. Little old ladies smile at me. Also, I get much more enjoyment out of stupid things, like watching My Name is Earl and looking at the props. Which makes the world more enjoyable. Which helps. And, it's a bank holiday weekend.
Now if only I could get comfortable.