In about a week, I will be an age that rhymes with schmirty schmive. I am way too old to love my birthday but I still do. I occasionally feel anxious about mortality, an aging body and its attendant aches and pains, and I definitely tug at the loose skin around my neck and arms and think with wistful longing about the days when I had a chin (WHERE DID MY CHIN GO? They warn you about wrinkles and age spots, but nobody ever told me that one day I would lose my chin! My first pregnancy came and went and – BAM – chinless.) But for the most part, I feel like I’ve wrung all of the enjoyment out of thirty-four that there was to be had, and so on I go to thirty five. I joke often about heading towards the down-slope to forty, but that’s just sort of what you do in American society – you theatrically dread the milestone birthdays. In truth, I don’t dread getting older. Beats the alternative! RIMSHOT! I’m here all week, try the veal!
We will be taking in a college football game on my birthday weekend, surrounded by old friends, and then on my actual birthday we (they) will nurse hangovers around the pool, and I’m crossing my fingers that I will be able to immerse my large and gently swelling self into some cooling waters that will buoy this burgeoning belly.
**Side note – I have gained zero pounds still. Anyone else out there ever be pregnant up to 18 weeks (almost) and gain zero pounds? This is not how my first two went, and I’m a touch anxious about it.**
We’ve finished the first week of school. Jack’s done fine, from what we can tell, although he has a teenager’s reticence to tell us about his day. I can get more out of three year old Liam about his day. Sigh. Last Sunday, the church invited all of the children to bring in their backpacks so they could be “blessed,” which really just meant all the kids went up to the front and a congregant who is a kindergarten teacher talked to them about school not being scary.
Then came the first day of school, which kind of snuck up on me, to tell the truth.
The week went well, except for Tuesday, when he rode the bus for the first time. I don’t particularly want to memorialize it – let’s just say it was not fun to have to force him on the Yellow Wagon of Terror, but by Wednesday he was riding like a champ.
The week flew by, as weeks do. I went to a work retreat for Friday night, at which they served dinner at 10pm. This pregnant lady was STRUGGLING by then – I’m almost always asleep by nine. The funky scheduling of Friday kind of messed with me all weekend. Saturday I fell asleep at 7pm or so, but then woke up around 10 and was up for a few hours before heading back to bed. It’s like being a cat.
The kids went to a pirate/mermaid themed birthday party on Saturday, held at a “Playgarden”, which turned out to be a sort of padded room full of kid toys.
After the party and naps, the boys were desperate to go fishing. We have never gone fishing in our lives, and of course have no fishing pole, but their father improvised and made a pole out of cardboard. So we took them fishing.
Yesterday, we went to the beach with them. It was actually quite chilly, overcast skies and a wicked wind, and the waves were unreal. I’ve never seen such waves in the gulf. There was a yellow warning flag (cautioning that currents were strong), so we let the boys wade while holding our hands. They fell theatrically to the ground every time a wave came, practically yanking my arm out of socket, but hey – they had fun. We had a seafood lunch, came home and did some errands (laundry, groceries), and voila – we’re back at Monday. Since Jack catches the bus at 6:45 am (WHAT???), and it’s now 6am, I’ll sign off and wish ya’ll a happy week.