I assume you all know what happens when you drop a slice of bread with some sort of a topping on it, right? I intended to have a Wasa cracker for dinner tonight, with a thin layer of peanut butter and apricot jam on it. As I was turning to reach for my cup of milk, the cracker slid off my plate and landed face down on the kitchen tiles. Normally, I'd get a machine gun, a chainsaw or two and throw myself into seventy six fits of throbbing rage. Or something of the sort. While pregnant? No way. Don't care. I wiped the remains off the floor and spent a few seconds considering making another one. I've been the queen of calm and Derek keeps saying I should be pregnant forever and ever.
Uhm. I don't think so.
I really can't complain about anything in particular, other than sleep, or lack thereof. It takes seconds to fall drift away, but I wake up a few times during the night, sometimes to run to the bathroom, sometimes to figure out where my body parts are and to, hopefully, bring them back to life. More and more of them are sticking out too far and getting in the way of comfortable positions such as, you know, simply lying down on one's side, for instance. And then if I do somehow sleep, the cat decides it's playtime and walks all over me, meowing into my ear.
Ohwell. I suppose it can all only get worse. (And it will.)
I still fit in most of my pre-pregnancy clothes, even though my bump looks like I'm a few months ahead of my schedule. I've gained about a kilo and some grams (a bit less than three pounds) and I guess that's okay. Actually, I keep telling myself that it has to be okay, even though I am not at all pleased with the increasing numbers on my scale. I mostly wear maternity clothes, though, because they are just so much more comfortable. I ended up with a nice bunch of stuff, mostly gotten from various second hand stores and garage sales. I was glad to see that there are women who didn't care about flowery dresses or some weird tops I would prefer to see on a grandma (or great grandma) much rather than on any woman of reproductive age.
We're starting to work on the upstairs of our house and the more we look at it, the more there needs to be done. I guess that's pretty normal, though. We need new carpet, new paint on the walls in the hallway and both bedrooms (the third room was painted sometime last year), new baseboards, new doors, new bathroom (I am keeping the toilet bowl, which is just fine and the sink, along with the faucet, because it's some funky old thing from the sixties, or even fifties, but everything else needs to go)... the kid's room needs a floor that won't be carpeted and I think we're going to go with some sort of laminate, but only if we can figure out thermal, as well as sound insulation. Whoever worked on the house originally forgot to insulate the garage ceiling, which then makes one third of the uptairs bedroom, which is going to be the baby's room, stupidly cold. Lots of work, all over the place, including the deck on the back side of the house, which also needs to be pulled out and replaced.
We are also guilty of having most of the kid's furniture, not only for the early... uhm, years. Ohwell. We like to be prepared, I guess, and I also don't like my projects to be unfinished, whenever I can help it! The high chair came in the mail the other day and we put it together this afternoon. It's very pretty (and it was expensive), but what justifies the price is ther fact that it converts into a chair for a kid all the way up to age 5, or so. Here's a photo of it, for some good measure:
Oh, also, I suppose I forgot to mention that we still have no clue what the little one actually is. I mean, okay, I suppose it's pretty safe to assume it's a little human being (despite the fact it looked like a scary alien in the newest ultrasound scan pics from the end of May), but the doctor said it was impossible to guess what was hiding between tiny crossed legs. Grrr, I say. The next scan is scheduled for June 20th, when I'll be 18 and a half weeks and I sure do expect the little one to show what it's hiding down there. Hopefully I'll be aware of its movement by then, too. So far, I don't think I've felt it, or at least I am not aware of it. During our next appointment, I need to go over my birth plan and things like that with the ob/gyn, too. There's a long list of questions I need answered, most of which are technical.
But more on that in some other post.
But more on that in some other post.
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