I am very raindrops-on-roses-and-whiskers-on-kittens today, so this topic couldn’t be more easy for me. What is so great about my life right now, you ask?
- The pets and fetus had a pow wow, and decided that I was getting pretty cranky and maybe that was due to lack of sleep, so they agreed to call a truce this week on keeping me up all night. I have slept super dee duper the past four, five days. I hardly even pee at night anymore, maybe just 3 times! This is amazing! It won’t last – he’s due to drop soon, which will mean I can breathe again but my bladder goes from the shape of a fist to the shape of a fried egg. Oh well, I’ll enjoy this while I can. As all of the parents love to say (with an evil snicker) to the exhausted pregnant lady – get all the sleep you can now, because after he’s born you’ll never sleep again. Yes, yes, I know, I know, I’m trying, and this week I’m succeeding. Sleep does marvelous things for one’s mood.
- Two spray bottles got stuck between our washer/dryer and the bifold laundry doors, preventing me from opening the doors and doing any laundry at all. It would have taken acrobatics of which I am no longer capable to reach them. So I MacGyvered them out of there with (I’m not kidding) a broom, a golf club, and a fly swatter. It was a long and complicated process, but I felt like a hero when I was done.
- My ovaries, my hormones and I had a fantastic time yesterday setting up baby’s room. I assembled the musical under-the-sea mobile and put it up on the crib. I washed the bumpers and dust ruffle and set them down in the crib, ready to be fastened on once I bring home a mattress one of these days. I started washing the linens and clothes, and hung up his wee little outfits on wee little hangers. I unfolded the stroller and smelled the new-stroller smell, which is surprisingly satisfying. I lint rolled the inside of some empty baskets, which til now were Schmitty’s favorite place to park and observe the world – I filled a large round one with cloth diapers, a small rectangular one with baby toys. Ten bucks says they are emptied of baby items and full of cat hair when I get home today. After a couple of hours of nesting in this way, I gazed on the crib that is still sans mattress, but finally looks something like a baby’s crib instead of something from a warehouse floor, and I just cried and cried. And thought – how weird is it that I am crying over missing a little baby who I’ve never yet met, and who is actually here in this room with me right now, hiccupping into my pelvic area with gusto? It was a wonderful, emotional, hormonally fueled moment, observed with puzzlement by the feline and the canine, who were both like – Hello?? Remember us? Can we play now?
- In the middle of my nesting frenzy last night, I found time to make myself some mashed potatoes and Brussels sprouts for dinner. Mmmmmm. Mashed potatooooooeeess. Brussels sprouts with baconnnnnn. Mmmmmmm.
- I am having some girls over this week for a Stitch n’ Bitch, during which I plan to finish the heirloom baby blanket that I’ve been working on for a lifetime. Friends! Wheeeee!
- The baby removed his buttocks from their relatively permanent (and painful) station in my chest cavity at some point yesterday. I can breathe and eat again. Also, he is hiccupping right as I type. Why is that cute? I don’t know but it is. I blame hormones again.
- My husband comes home after a looooong looooong trip in just 10 days. He arrives on the last Friday in March, and then we make yet another jaunt down to South Carolina (it will be my third in four weeks), this time to Camden to see the Carolina Cup horse race. Then he leaves again immediately for Chicago for the week, but at least Chicago is closer than Brazil. Then he comes back just in time for our second baby shower. So March is going to be busy. This is good – without things to do, I would sit and twiddle my thumbs and watch the clock tick away the last remaining seconds of my childless life.
So, feeling somewhat like Pollyanna here, but you caught me on a good day. Aaaaannd, there goes baby’s butt back into my ribcage. Ooof. Well, it’s still a good day. Just not a good day for, you know, breathing and stuff.