Friday Night Lights and nesting

I am still here. Just been working hard, having mini hormonal driven meltdowns and nesting my ass off. I have spent every last spare moment on line looking for a rug, curtains and all things cosy to make our lounge less barren. I have visions of me come December, feeding a small child at 3am, freezing in our sub zero temperature lounge. At the moment it has no curtains. We said we'd get round to it when we moved in. 2 years ago. My neighbours must have loved watching me cavort around to Body Combat (in the days when I could do it) and watching our general sloth if there is nothing on the tube. Our sash windows rattle come winter and let in a cold draft that could freeze your neck solid, so curtains are a must. I've done 2 winters without them - not any more. Thermal lining needed to boot.

It would be a lie if I said I didn't love this time of year though - when the temperature dips a few degrees, the leaves begin their voyage through the colour spectrum and the last rays of summer sun begin to disappear. I get that 'ole back to school feeling - the need to purchase something from Paperchase; I get excited by stationary - embarrassingly so - what that says about me, I don't want to know. When soups and one pot recipes come out along with the blankets and cardigans. Speaking of which, being almost 7 months preggers I can't indulge in any retail therapy clothes wise (not that I have spare cash to do so with all my extreme nesting going on)as fashion may as well be on planet moon at the moment, it bears so little impact on my maternity wardrobe - but I have just ordered a cashmere cardigan that I have coveted for a while. My Mum kindly went halves on it as otherwise it wouldn't have got anywhere near me. But I am convinced this is 'an investment piece' - cost per wear it will work out dead cheap - or so I tell myself to appease the guilt. Plus it is from The White Company - and every time I look in that catalogue, I want my life to resemble it's serenity. It will cover big bump and also post baby bump too. It also is the softest thing I have ever draped over myself and in it I feel cocooned, safe, all ready to bed down for winter.

That is, if I could do any bedding. My god - the heartburn. It rages. And rages. Two ranitidines a day and I am still swigging gaviscon like an alkey swallows whiskey and giving up on any food past 6pm... I wake up at 2am - just for a wee swig as the back of my throat burns. Maybe again at 5am. I wake up with it and go to sleep with it - even though my head is propped up on two plus pillows. I am counting down these weeks with a mixture of fear - what the hell am I doing having two kids, when I barely cope with one (and an easy, well mannered, does as he is told, great sleeping kid into the bargain - this isn't meant to sound boastful, I just hear from other folk that Sproglet is fairly easy to parent)- and the need for it to pass mighty quickly so I can stop feeling this burning sensation so damn often.

What else has been happening in Crummy Mummy's small world? Ok, a confession. I have a new crush - and it is all the fault of my work buddies. They are all big drama fans - as in, tv shows. They chew the fat over what is good, bad or downright shouldn't be on screen. Since I've been back at work I've heard them chatting about 'Friday Night Lights' a tv show about American football - teen drama stylee. I wasn't convinced - I'd never heard of it and series one was shown on an obscure channel over here in the UK. But with the autumn tv schedule yet to kick in - there was honest to god - NOTHING to watch here since Greys and Damages ended months ago... So I bought the box set.

It is brilliant. The characterisation is fantastic - particularly the relationship between the coach and his wife Tammy. I want her to be my best friend. I have equally strong feelings about the tortured, delicious Tim Riggins, but in a more X rated version. It reels you in and makes you care - with mercifully sparse dialogue and without moralistic monologues. Everything is underplayed - giving the viewer the chance to relish all the subtext. It is no West Wing, but it doesn't want to be. Husband agreed to watch the first ep with me - then we did no 2. Next day he told me off for trying to watch one without him and now it is our guilty pleasure. I am relieved to know I still have seasons 2, 3 and 4 to go. I'm not sure my hormones could take the loss of Timmy Riggins from my life right now. Even if he does need to wash his hair. If you have never seen it - go on, treat yourself.

So the highlight of my days at the mo? Snuggling under blankets watching Tim Riggins sweat. Dreaming of curtains and rugs and hot pots. Maybe I need to get out more, but frankly, I just want to stay in.