I was doing really well there for awhile at posting everyday. Now there is either not much to say, or I am too busy frantically completing random nesting projects to post (Jim called home yesterday and was in shock to hear that I was ironing tiny baby shirts. "I go to work in wrinkly pants and you're ironing baby clothes?" he asked incredulously.) It hasn't been terribly hot lately- only in the eighties- so I've been able to keep up on the housework (at least to my satisfaction) without becoming overheated and exhausted. The contractions have been much fewer, possibly just because I'm not being constantly afflicted with heat stroke and dehydration. And my weight gain seems to have slowed down, though my belly feels more cumbersome every day. I have The Line now, the linea negro, as I believe it is properly called, running from my pubic bone to belly button. Which, by the way, is fully popped now, as though to announce to the world that the bun has outgrown its oven.
But these are not the things I was going to write about today. What I wanted to talk about is how we are going to be having my little sister's friend, who just graduated but will be staying in town at least for this year, come over a few days a week to help out after the baby arrives. She'll also be on call the rest of the summer in case I should have to suddenly go on bed rest again. I've known her for a long time, and Jim and I both are really comfortable with her and feel she's old enough to be trusted. She'll only be here for two or three hours at a time, but enough for me to take a shower, or a nap, or maybe even work out or something. Or get some solid housework time in without being interrupted every five minutes, or even escape to the store alone.
I feel amazingly lucky, and much less frightened about Life With Two Children than I was a few weeks ago. In fact, I almost feel like I should whisper this news, or put it in parenthesis or something, lest the jealousy rain down upon my head from all of you who aren't lucky in the babysitter department.
And yet, when she came over yesterday to discuss hours and wages and all that, I had this weird, possessive feeling. She got here just as we were finishing up lunch, and as I was cleaning up the kitchen and changing a diaper, explaining to her as I went our basic routines and showing her the kids' rooms and stuff, I had this territorial feeling about it all, even the piles of toys and the dirty diaper and the messy kitchen. Do I really want someone to come in on a regular basis and interfere with my daily rhythm? I was thinking. Can I really let someone else fold my towels and give my daughter snacks and even comfort my crying newborn?
It's so silly, right? How many times have I been picking up toys and refilling sippy cups and wiping bottoms and thinking, What I wouldn't give to just hand this off to someone else right now? And now I get to, at least for a few hours a week, and I'm feeling sad? What is the matter with me?
It's gotta be the hormones. How else to explain any sense of reluctance to relinquish tedious daily tasks? Or is this just my being hyper-controlling, subconsciously wondering if I can really trust someone else to kiss boo-boos and wipe counters and fold onesies as well as I can?