It’s mid-November and during a good portion of most days I still have our windows open. November, and open windows! Admittedly, my children keep whimpering that they are cold; and, even Mike (a hearty fellow if ever there was one) asked me last night why I was trying to freeze him to death. But! I’m like . . . 100 years pregnant. Cold doesn’t exist for me. And if November is going to keep offering 60 degree highs then, by darn it, there will be some open windows! (Mind you I would like at least one big snowfall before December. I can’t quite reconcile open windows with Christmas music, and Christmas music is something I am greedily looking forward to [and don’t think for a minute I am counting all these recital songs my kids keep practicing – they’ve had to practice, I know, but I’ve tried my best to pretend they haven’t been playing Christmas songs so innapropriately early].)
I’ve only got nine weeks left in this pregnancy. I’ve felt more-than-usual worn out by the babies I already have of late. The fall time change combined with Mette transitioning, rather poorly, to one nap a day, has made for some long, needy and cry-filled hours; and, at times, I wonder if that dear, typically cheery, little soul might ever truly be content again, or even momentarily interested in any toy or self-entertaining device in the universe. (That isn’t completely fair though. She does love to occasionally crawl around with one family member or anothers’ shoes on her hands. And she finds emptying garbage cans or pulling everything from cupboards at least . . . partially satisfying.)
Still, for all of that, I can’t help but be anxious for this new baby’s arrival. For so long these expected babies seem a good part . . . imagination. I so rarely can pin them down into a concrete being. Despite the anxiety and fear over the difficulties and juggling I see ahead, I can’t stop feeling excited for that miraculous moment when this idea will become, quite suddenly, a concrete and tangible reality. My son.
Anywho . . . that’s all I’ve got for now. Over and out.
1 comment:
The Christmas song practicing really is disturbing. My kids have had to do that too, ever since October, and it's indecent!
And thank goodness Mette has a few simple, wholesome pastimes such as any good baby might have. Things like emptying cupboards and losing people's shoes. You wouldn't want her childhood spoilt. Poor dear!
And goodness, nap transition AND daylight savings AND third trimester all at once?? I am tired FOR you. Wishing a long, peaceful night's sleep for you tonight!!
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