Sunday, November 25, 2012

Baby 2, Letter 3

Dear Baby,

Ready or not, here you come.

The panic has set in.  Your nursery is a mess.  I don't have a swing yet.  Your father only gets a week off work for your arrival.  Your brother is so excited for your arrival, I'm afraid he'll pick you up by the leg to play with you like he does Buzz Lightyear, his favorite toy.

I need to sterilize things and paint things and fold things, but most of all I need a big fat nap. You are exhausting me.  I still have 7 weeks to go but I look like I'm going to give birth to twins tomorrow.

We made it through Thanksgiving relatively unscathed, and now I'm gearing up for Christmas and at the same time gearing up for you. December, you rat fink, why did you come before I was ready??  I meant to have this baby stuff all wrapped up neatly with a bow before the holidays struck, but look, here we are.  Ready or not.

Still, none of it really matters, does it?  All you really need is a drawer full of diapers and one full of soft things to sleep in.  Got that covered.  You have places to sleep and two parents who adore you and a  big brother who is over the moon at the prospect of a baby sister.

I tried to avoid the pink explosion in your nursery but apparently it's endemic to the whole "girl baby" thing and I cannot get around it no matter how hard I try.  Welcome to the sea of pink, little muffin.  It's gonna be gorgeous in there.

I wish you'd come tomorrow.  I'm ready in the way that really matters.  Ready to hold you and nibble your tiny baby cheeks and sit for hours with you in a chair, blissed out on what your Aunt Kalli calls "baby Xanax".

All my love and then some,

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Thankful, 2012

Thanksgiving morning.


I have a delightful 3 and-almost-1/2-year-old boy and I am 31 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby girl.

I have a job I love doing work that helps our community.

My husband is a rock, and he supports all of my hair-brained schemes.

Our families are well.  We see them often and love them all to bits.

Friends are plentiful, funny, charming, and thoughtful.

I am the happiest I have ever been in my life.  My cup runneth over.

I will not say coming to this place was easy for me.  My tendency to self-sabotage in the early parts of my adulthood was strong.  I made some poor choices, I had some just plain bad luck, and I sometimes was a slow learner.  I am grateful today for so many things, but  most of all, I think I am grateful that I finally had the good sense to stop being my own worst enemy.  To simply put down the axe I was grinding, to stop living "in the moment" to such a degree that the future got bleak, and allow myself to be serene and happy.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Try try again.

I haven't blogged much, here or elsewhere, since I started my new job.  I've been trying to figure out why that is, when in the past I was such a prolific and committed writer.

 I considered that maybe it was to do with the pregnancy and that I have "pregnant brain" and just can't focus.

Or maybe it is that my new, much more demanding job is sucking the life out of me.

Or maybe this parasite I'm growing is sucking the life out of me.

Or maybe I just got tired of hearing myself talk.

Maybe my life has gotten so dull I just have nothing to say. I mean, "I worked ten hours then I fed my family and then worked two more" isn't that fun to read about, overall.

Also, I don't drink.

Maybe it is all of the above. But I am going to start anew. I'm going to try. I miss it. I miss being able to look back. I liked it for "diary" purposes and I appreciate now being able to peruse my archives and do a lot of the "remember when" thing.  I'll regret not documenting, if for no one but myself, this part of my life.

Because even though I'm busier and more stressed than I've ever been, I'm also happier than I've ever been.

Maybe that's why I am not compelled to write. Maybe there is something to all that "writers are angsty" stuff.

But I need to.  For me.  It's probably not going to be very good. I'm rusty, not to mention the aforementioned boring.  So here goes nothing.  Don't feel pressured to read it.  I am setting a very low expectation for myself.  Just write a bit, at least once a week, even if it's just about much I appreciate George Clooney's ass.

Hi kids!!