Wednesday saw our second ante-natal class, and what a waste of time! There were 16 women there, though only 8 guys had returned for more after week one. Lying on the table in the middle of the room was what looked suspiciously like a dolly with a beanbag placenta poppered to it, and a disembodied pelvis held together with screws and wires. Because that's what they were. Oh god, they're going to force that poor doll through that pelvis, probably without even loosening the screws, then point menacingly at the women and say, "See? Nasty, eh?" Then we were treated to a Q&A session about "How can you tell labour has started?" before being played a relaxation CD of the type we "might like to buy." For 15 minutes. With the lights off. The annoying female voice told us to "breathe down as far as our wombs" and "make contact with our babies". Lorna didn't appreciate me breathing anywhere near her womb, so we just sniggered childishly at the other ladies who were taking it seriously. Next week the class is about second stage labour and pain relief. I'm not going to able to make it, but I don't feel so bad as by that stage there's not going to be a lot I can do other than What I Am Told.
After the class I had to head to Ardmay House for the remainder of the week. 40 P5s had been there since Monday and I highly recommend it as a place to take that age group. Not too big, we were the only school there and the activities were easily tailored to suit their feeble whinging bodies.
Finally for nnow we got a visit from Cameron today, who came to Edinburgh to visit the museum. Unfortunately he had to bring his parents Neil and Janice with him, so we just had to put up with them the best we could. There was an exhibition of Creepy Crawlies - giant model bugs alongside their real miniture selves for Cameron to hold and Janice to hide from.
42 days to go. Bike show tomorrow at Ingliston, and an evening trip to Ikea later in the week...