03.20.06
We sang Bobby McGee on the hood of my car
How is it March 20 already?
Last week was really great. We went to Ottawa, and we went to Beaupre for two nights with Liam, and we went to a breastfeeding class, and we came to a decision on the legal guardian issue for our child, and we talked a lot and watched some good movies. And yet this morning, while I rolled over in bed waking up, I relished the quiet.
One of my concerns about impending motherhood is that babies do not care if you are tired, need some quiet or want to be alone for a while. And these are things I often need. I had a late breakfast, talked to my mom on the phone, took Milo for a walk, and got out my suitcase and started packing for my trip to Florida. I was going to go to the Food Bank today, but have a busy rest of the week and selfishly decided to stay at home and putter around here. Because I need the quiet. But what happens when I need the quiet on days like today and the baby is howling with no end in sight?
Tomorrow I am getting my hair done and meeting a friend for coffee. I am going to get it dyed a little lighter than I have been because of my trip south and also because Mother Nature is teasing me, still blowing a cold wind, but pushing pussy willows out on branches at the park and tickling my nose with that sweet smell that is always a combination of mud and new life. Milo has been wading farther and farther into the lake as it melts, chasing sticks Steve throws for her, seemingly oblivious of the large pieces of ice still present. Her paws and belly are muddier and muddier with each walk these days and I know it is only a matter of time until she discovers the huge puddle in the yard across from ours and runs through it again and again.
As for me, I get tired, and clutter seems to grate on my every nerve, even when it is only in the corner of my vision while we watch tv, which resulted in a full house cleaning session yesterday. I have been feeling lots of movement and love to watch my stomach jiggle and move and the baby kicks and squirms and finds her place. Steve talks into my belly button and then lays his head down and tries to hear her heartbeat, although the most action he has gotten were some feisty kicks in the ear. Meanwhile, this heartburn thing is starting to get out of control, burning up my chest with each load of laundry or piece of clothing I pick up. Yesterday halfway through our clean, Steve made me sit down for a while until I started to feel better, at which time I remembered that I had read to squat instead of bending over when plagued with such things. All I can say is that the big bottle of fruity Tums I bought at Christmas we not a waste of money as I had feared.
The baptism is just as political an issue as ever and we have half decided not to do it at that church after all. We tried a new church yet again yesterday and while the Minister was awesome, including everyone from those working on cleaning the oil spill up North to soldiers overseas to the balance of our ecosystem in his prayers, the organist and choir sounded like they were singing a snails death march. If only we could find a place that combined the type of sermon we heard yesterday with the music of the Pentecostals, it would be perfect. So, needless to say, the search continues.
My suitcase is sitting open half full on the bed in the spare room which has caused Milo to pace the house whining, stopping to stare at me as I pack, and then start pacing again. So now she is sitting outside on the step, sniffing the air and occasionally chewing on a stick she brought home the other day from a walk.
The baby has been pushing on my side the last couple days. It feels like she is sticking her bum into my side just below my ribcage, and when I feel my side, there is a hard bump. I quietly tell her I like it when she moves, as long as she stays head down and does not end up getting all twisted around in there.
On Wednesday Steve turns 27. I am the worst at keeping surprises, because there has been about four times when I wanted to give him his present early, but I have held out until now. Only two more days to go.
And for now, I am going to draw a tub, call Milo into the house to sleep while I bathe, and ease my big round body into the warm water.
wunderwuman at 3:36 p.m.