Wibbly wobbly wonder...

I'm allegedly going swimming tonight, so if you hear of any freak tidal waves in the general Derry area do not be alarmed- it will simply be the result of ample body displacing ample quantities of a water from a hopefully quiet swimming pool.

You see, I'm trying to get fit again. I need to lose weight because, as you may have realised from my rambling here in I'm broody- but I'm not being fat mamma jamma next time round.

I crave a neat bump, some stylish maternity clothes and not being greeted with gasps of disbelief when I tell people I'm expecting. (They all just thought I was eating too many turnovers of a morning!).

I also want to be fit for my son. We went a walk yesterday morning and by the end of it I was praying for a merciful release.

I am unfortunate enough you see to live at the top of a very steep hill. It makes life wonderful walking anywhere as its downhill all the way- but coming home is another matter. I'm a puffing wreck by the time I'm home. I'm sweaty, my legs are aching and I'm feeling like a lump.

I certainly don't feel, or look, like the lithe and lovely mammy I hoped to be. I don't want my son to be the one with the chubby mum at the school gates and I want to be able to take him swimming without feeling embarrassed as me and my thunder thighs wobble out of the changing room.

The last time I went for a proper swim (not a paddle with the wee man), I was 3 stone lighter and a helluva lot fitter. Wish me luck.