Um, hi...

For those of you that are sticking around and showing me grace through this very dry patch of writer's block, I thank you.

So. What have we been up to lately?

Playette knows the baby is coming. It's strange interesting to watch her behaviors change because it's like she has this 6th sense thing happening. I almost want to ask her when it's going to rain next. And for some lottery picks.

I do tend to forget that even though her speech is delayed that she understands so much more. I mean, honestly, Self...it's not like we don't talk about the baby coming when we're around her. Duh.

But, yet, still, I sit here amazed. Sometimes she's great, with the kissing of the belly and the "good morning/night, Dez*"s and then other times she's a pure-dee wack-a-loon and I have to worry about getting a call from school that's she's not welcome back the next day.

Which reminds me. I went to see Kathie Snow speak back on the 15th. At the end of her amazing talk, I spoke up during the Q&A. I thanked her for reminding me that it's ok for my kid to have a bad day. I struggle with that. A lot.

Talk about a ton of pressure to put on a four-year-old.

It's almost as if I expect perfection out of her, something that her classmates' parents probably don't worry about lofting upon the shoulders of their own kids because they are "currently undiagnosed" and no one feels like those littles need to be the [booming voice] Posterchildren of Successful Inclusive Practices [/booming voice].

But I do.

And good grief. I should really stop.

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Last week, BD went to NYC for "work" work. That was also my first week of not having to go in to my own job-away-from-home. Even though that meant I had more free time during the day while Playette was in school, being 37-38 weeks pregnant also meant that I was also scared that my child would not eat of be bathed for 4 days while he was gone.

Because my energy and motivation level these days? HA!

Thankfully, my aunt came to town to help me out. She also kept me busy, which was ideal.

Things got done! The house was clean! We ate! Playette had baths!

Proof that things got done:


First of all, I never would have thought to do such a thing as put together little outfits. And, second, to have them all cleaned (and ironed!) and ready to go on the changing table like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah, right. I can barely remember where BD keeps the iron.

It was pretty awesome and I was sooo grateful. I still am. I hope we didn't scare her off and that she really will come back after the babe is here.

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Now, after all of that, we actually give off the illusion of being "ready."

It's still so mind-boggling to me that I have no idea when this baby is going to come. I mean, today is Monday. I'll be 39 weeks on Wednesday. At 39 weeks with Playette, I was in the hospital being induced.

Looking back, it was awful. Not the worst thing ever in the grand scheme of what can happen in life, sure, but not what I have in mind for this time at all. I pretty much look at what I want now and can say "the opposite of what happened last time" and it works out great in my head.

And with that comes waiting.

So it could be tonight. It could be next week. It could be mid-April. I just don't know. And I have to be ok with that on some level.

In the meantime, I need to spend my days doing something other than sitting on the couch watching Good Burger while texting my friends. I know this much is true.

Ok, so I also watched Waiting for Superman today. That has to be worth something. (scared the crap out of me, it did)

And then I went for a walk this afternoon. Two miles. I used to run it. Today I huffed and puffed and shuffled through it. But I survived. I may even try that again tomorrow.

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Since you're so patient with me, here is my gift to you. A belly pic!

Wait. Make that a few.

And it's the real deal, yo. You can actually see the belly.

Because while digging through bins in the attic, I came across this gem of a Wal-Mart tee that I bought in New Orleans when I was pregnant with Playette.

Whilst knocked up is pretty much the perfect time for wearing a shirt like this, I think. Showing a little skin makes it that much more classy.





* Dez is what we call the newbie. The nickname started a while ago and then stuck. Even though BD said it never would. Neener Neener. Basically, it's just BD's initials and since we can't seem to agree on a name, Dez he shall be until we come up with something better. If we ever come up with something better, that is.

Short and Sweet

I am too tired to type. Most times, I am too bored with myself to even think.

When I do read, I get all crotchety about the internet and what it has done to our culture, akin to how my great-grandmother felt about indoor plumbing.

And no one wants to hear that, right?

I have quite the low tolerance level these days.

And I still don't think it's pregnancy hormones. I'm probably just not that nice of a person.

I hope it passes.

Shoot, it's too nice outside to stay mean forever.

Something I can be grateful for today: apparently, Playette's school is having pity on me at the moment and not requiring me to pick her up for being 0.1 over the temperature limit. They called, but then called back a few minutes later and said that they'd try her again in a bit to make sure that it really is pick-up worthy.

I really must have looked like crap when I dropped her off this morning.

She's been very fortunate this year in the sick department. All over, families have been dealing with nastiness all "winter" and we've, thankfully, been passed over. Not that it makes us special or anything. I really have no idea where my kid got this immune system, but I accept.

If anyone has any questions for me about anything, let me know. Obviously, I'm lacking in creativity. I'd welcome any excuse to write and become a more productive member of society.

35

Every time I think to come here and write, I decide to do something else instead.

Like sleep. Or eat. Or rant about my situation at work.

Fun at parties, that's me!

You know, I tried to quit my job a few weeks ago, but the circumstances made me so angry that I chose fight over flight. It's not the best timing for sure, but I feel like it's important for me to take a stand against the bad behavior. We'll see what happens. At the very least, I am now down to part time. Five hours a day, four days a week. Yesterday ended the first week with that schedule and so far, so good.

I've been thinking on and off about Kindergarten for the (not-for-long) Littlest. For a while, I debated taking the extra year for her since her summer birthday forced me into thinking I had a choice in the matter, but then one day I woke up and it felt like the decision was made.

You ever had that happen? Obsess x 1000000 and then *poof* it's over?

Yeah. It doesn't happen often for me, but I was grateful in this case. It was just like a peace that washed over me and then I heard "Why wait?"

I couldn't come up with a response to the voice in my head (which, yay?).

Like, really. What would be the benefit for my child to spend another year in Pre-K? So at least that part's done. And then, on top of that, we should be moving again before the new school year, so no point in me battling with the people here about placement (though, of course, we'll update the IEP appropriately). That just gave me years back on my life. No unreturned phone calls, no explaining why I think she should be here and not there, no begging either for or against the home school.

Buying myself some time is nice.

Because one thing I can't keep from happening is this new babe.

He's coming.

Soon.

Earlier in the week, I realized that I was 35 weeks pregnant and that meant that I had 35 days to go until my estimated due date. Days.

I'm a 35 year-old woman 35 weeks into my pregnancy with about 35 days to go.

Pardon me while I go freak my freak.

People ask me if we're ready.

What's "ready"?

Like, do we have stuff? Yeah...some. I didn't throw anything away after Playette so the pack-and-play, swing, bouncy seat...all those biggies are cleaned up and in good working order. Some great friends have donated boy-type hand-me-down clothes and other items, which is awesome.

But are we ready-ready?

Um. Well. Er.

It's just...different. We're not as anxious about things as we were when Playette was born. I think we realize that whatever we don't have and end up needing, we'll get. Or maybe we don't really need at all.

Also, and more importantly, we aren't naive. No matter how much we want to be blissfully unaware, we know that things can happen. There are no guarantees. And with that in mind, our primary focus is on the health and well-being of this little boy.

No surprises would be a bonus.

Everything else is gravy.



And now I want gravy. Dammit.