Send help. Cheese won't string. Also, math.

My string cheese won't string. It doesn't taste as nice if I have to eat it widthwise, like a banana. Have I lost the knack? How do children eat this stuff? Maybe I just got a dud this time; the last one I ate - my first ever - worked fine. I didn't know one had to watch out for fleecing by the string cheese people too. Life is hard.

This morning, in the especially deep sleep I often fall into directly after the alarm has gone off, when my brain is busy literally dreaming up excuses for me not to have to get up, I dreamt that we kept going places and forgetting to bring the baby. I'd whisper to someone beside me "Where's the baby?" and they'd say "At home, sleeping." And then I'd worry because you're not really supposed to leave them alone in the house, even if they're asleep. It seemed like a bit of an oversight.

Interestingly for my dream-gender tally, I don't know whether the baby this time was a boy or a girl. I suppose, since we kept leaving it behind, I never actually got to see it.

Ah yes, I remember what I was going to blog about. The fact that I've now been saying I'm six months pregnant for about a month. How can this be, you ask. It makes perfect sense. When I got to 24 weeks, I assumed that meant I was 6 months, because 4 weeks = 1 month. Except, they don't. And there's that pesky two weeks at the start of the pregnancy that they count though you're not really pregnant yet. This is why in the Girlfriend's Guide, she keeps reiterating that it's really ten months, not nine. Once you do some elementary division - and really, the multiples of ten make it so easy that why would you not? - you realise that 4 into 40 goes 10 times, not 9, so she must be right.

But next week, I really will be six months pregnant - according to the calendar and everything. In the sense that I'll have three months to go, and when I say it people can count up "February, March, April" and be right when they assume that the baby's due in early May.

What a wondrous thing is maths. Are maths. Math. Bah.

This also means that next week I'll be entering the much-maligned third trimester. What delights await me there?