Urgh, apparently pregnancy brain has struck already, because I sought babysitting for today and wrote down in red, underlined ink, "Sarah-Dr-12:30!" in today's calendar square, and laid awake last night thinking, "To-MORROW! To-MORROW!" and then the nurse called me today and was all, "So we'll see you TOMORROW, Thursday, at twelve thirty!"
Or maybe I can't blame hormones. It's not like that's never happened to me when I wasn't in the family way.
This is still so surreal. Especially because I don't physically feel pregnant: no nausea, no tenderness in the chestal region, no unusual fatigue, no bleeding gums, nada. I'm MAYBE peeing a little more than usual? MAYBE a little bloated? But that's about it. Aside from the whole pesky emotional rollercoaster of crazy, which is definitely there. Oh, and the kind of melancholy fact that about two weeks ago I pretty much stopped producing any milk at all, so Jamie's been up multiple times each night lately, trying in vain to nurse and too sleepy and out of it to accept the sippee cups he willingly drinks from during the day. It makes me really sad, and also really tired in the morning, but I'm still not counting that tiredness as a preggo symptom because I'm pretty sure ANYONE would be tired in the morning if they were up all night with a sad baby suckling in futility and then fussing angrily.
Well, whatdya gonna do? Que sera, sera! One day at a time! God has a plan! One foot in front of the other! Shop and clean and bake cookies and browse online obsessively to distract yourself! (That last bit is my own contribution to the litany of platitudes one generally is offered at times like these.)
In news unrelated to the state of my gestating uterus or frantic squirrel brain, Jim and I went to Addy's first parent teacher conference last night, and it was so completely pleasant and relaxed. I just love her teacher, and I am well aware how lucky I am to be able to say that. She's lovely and patient and funny and also just so happens to live across the street from us. Yeah. It doesn't get better than that... except maybe for the times when our windows are open and the kids are screaming, or when I shuffle out to the mailbox in my robe and slippies, or when our lawn goes unmowed for too long. Then it's a little disconcerting to remember that your neighbor whose living room window looks into yours is also your daughter's teacher. But mostly it's good, and so is having a family with identically-aged kids just a few houses away with whom you can trade babysitting for these events. I seriously felt like we lived in Mayberry last night.
Every time I am waiting yet again for the bathroom, or feeling cramped by the size of our kitchen/eating area and the lack of central air and overwhelmed by the mess created by three small kids in less than two thousand square feet (looking around, I often hear in my head that line from One Headlight that goes "This place is always such a mess/ Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn") I remember that we literally could not find a better location in which to live than exactly where we are, and moving even marginally further away from our friends and families would really put a kink in my current ability to make it from home to just about anywhere I want to go in under ten minutes. Can't put a price tag on that, right?
So, we'll add on if we have to. Or install an outhouse in the backyard! Or maybe the baby can sleep in a dresser drawer in our room for a year or so! OMG BABY!
Oh, and as a reward for slogging through all this nonsense, you get Eli's letter to Santa, as dictated to me this morning after yet another whining fit about how it takes so long for Christmas to come. (Also, possible alternate title to this post, "How I Am Apparently Raising An Entitled But Very Expressive Child.")
I want some presents. I am angry and I really want them and I really want today is Christmas. I talked about it but I yelled about the Mario pajamas and I throwed a fit about them. I... I am crying for Santa to come and I was sad about Santa and I was really really angry about it. And I was really really really really really reeeeeaaaallly angry. I really want something. I want cookies for Christmas. And I really really angry about them. And... like, I want a Black Cat and a Black Spiderman for Christmas. And do you know what? Also I want more and more and more. I want a Bears jersey like Brian Urlacher, and an Ohio State number one jersey. I would like a football. I want, uh, mmm, I really want Adelay to get a new green dinosaur for Super Mario. Um, I want MORE. I want shin guards. I want some... I don't know what I want. That is just all.
Thank you Santa! Thank you Santa!