Today’s top tip for the very pregnant is not to take your fetus to loud rock concerts unless you want to lie awake for hours afterwards. Pete, Bernard and I went to see The Zutons last night, supported by Terra Alpha [a Razorlight-esque four-piece of very skinny boys] and The Grates [an Australian guitar/drums act with the most energetically bouncy girl in the world on vocals].
The support acts weren’t bad, and The Zutons didn’t disappoint at all [contrary to expectations], although the lighting was a little uncomfortable from the balcony, with spotlights shining directly in our faces throughout the show; and the roadie’s constant running on and off the stage to assist with frequent guitar changes was a little distracting. Musically they were polished but still exciting, and the material from the weaker second album stood up just fine once mixed in with the fabulous first album stuff. The saxophonist was particularly impressive, and I really enjoyed it, from my perch up in the balcony where the grown-ups sat. Had I not been 8+ months pregnant, it would have been a good gig to be standing in front of the stage [though safely out of the moshpit, of course!]
And how did Bernard enjoy the show? I think I once described his movements as a fluttery, gentle bump inside – oh, those were the days. Now we are talking small uterus-churning earthquakes, feet and fists, twists and turns. He has on more than one occasion punched Pete in the ear. He gets particularly active in response to loud female voices, deep bass tones, startling guitar riffs, and changes in volume. Readers, the baby danced throughout.
He continued to dance all the way home, kicked his dad during the nightly bump massage, and refused to settle down for another hour and a half. Sometime around 1:30 he eventually got tired and let me get some sleep. I am expecting to feel significantly fewer kicks than usual today; I should think he will be needing a rest.
I told my son how he had jumped about when I saw Star Wars at the cinema very pregnant. He told me he remembered watching the movie.
‘Really honey? How did you manage to see it?’
‘I watched it through that hole – you know, the special hole that babies come out from.’
I think the cinema staff would have had something to say about that.
Ha! Interestingly, Pete’s mum went to see Star Wars when she was pregnant with his sister, and says she had to leave because the baby kicked so much throughout. She infers that the baby wasn’t enjoying the film.
So… by that rationale… Bernard will grow up and be.. a Spice Girls fan??