The fetus formerly known as the Tadpole #18

My ante-natal record card is almost full...
Six days from my due date, and still waiting for Fetie to appear. Still doped out on blood pressure drugs. This week's clinic visit was remarkable for the number of people in the waiting room (at least 30 ladies ahead of me!), but unremarkable as far as my health is concerned. BP is still under control, there are no other danger signs of pre-eclampsia or anything else, so everyone agrees to just let things happen naturally while I take it easy.

What more can I say, except thank heavens that ratings season is starting on telly! Time to admit that I'm a fan of Australian Idol, even though I'm about 20 years older than the key demographic. Incidentally, I'd like to thank my mother for being honest about my singing ability from a fairly young age. I see now how much pain it saved me.

While I'm on the subject of parents, I'll also take this opportunity to mention how brilliant all of our parents - whether related by blood, marriage or social convention - have been. Loads of phone calls, driving me around, blankies, soft toys, jumpers and other clever things. Youse are tops. Ta.

Now I'll try and do my bit by getting a grandson out before Fathers' Day! I'm never quite sure where to put the apostrophe in Fathers' (Father's?) Day. I've always assumed that it goes after the 's', because it's a day for all fathers, plural. But I only have one father, and the day only applies to him, in the singular, as far as I'm concerned. I could go on for a long time about this. But I won't.