My belly is like a water balloon – I’m honestly getting scared to bend forward in case I burst it! Trying to shepherd the baby toddler up the stairs is becoming quite a task, so is leaning down to pick her up and – the worst – setting myself down on the bathroom floor so that I can change her nappy. I don’t know why, but we didn’t ever get around to buying a changing table. We just have the top part of a changing table, the bit that you can slide on top of a cot. Is it called a cot top table? Or have I just made that up? In any case, having to hunker down on the tiles to change a nappy is not ideal and getting myself back up again involves a rather precarious manoeuvre where I grab hold of the edge of the sink and use it to pull myself upright. I hope it’s screwed on firmly!

Stomach issues: non-existent this week. What a relief. Mind you, I’ve gone easy on the cheese. Apart from the whole ball of buffalo mozzarella I devoured on Friday night when my husband was out! On top of pasta, not just out of a tub, but still. Tiredness status: very tired, but not unmanageable. I’m getting by with a cheeky nap in the afternoon, though I do really feel it if it gets to about 4pm and I haven’t had a quick lie-down. (If the husband is at home I tend to sleep for about two hours, just because I can, and it feels like such a luxury because I don’t have to worry about the dog going crackers downstairs or the doorbell ringing or a neighbour popping round when I’m just wearing my vest and some pants.)

Weird question of the week: “how old is it?” This was the lady at the supermarket checkout, pointing at my belly. For a second, I thought she meant Angelica, but then I realised I didn’t even have her with me. “It” was the bump. “How old” seemed like such a weird way of phrasing things! Most people say “how long have you got?” or “how many months?” – “how old?” implies it’s already out! I felt like saying “it’s minus three months”.

By the way, in the photo above I’m actually 25 weeks pregnant, not 26. If I was really dedicated, I’d get my ass out of bed and take a quick picture of the bump, but I honestly can’t muster up any enthusiasm. Apart from the fact I’m wearing pyjama bottoms with an old summer dress over the top (don’t ask) I have no makeup on and my hair looks like Lemony Snicket’s. I’d much rather use this vaguely glamorous pic… Taken in the loos at Cafe de Paris, as you do – I was presenting an award for Sainsbury’s. Not in the loos, obviously – that would be a tight squeeze for the guests! The spotty dress is from ASOS here – the bin, I have no clue where that is from…