for the record

Work is making me nuts and I am trying to figure how to get done and out of there ASAP.

The baby countdown is now at 10 weeks. It feels so near and yet so far.

I have been assuming that Henry will stay with my parents while the new baby is being born. Jason and I finally talked about it last night and he is less convinced. He brought up the point that it will be strange for Henry to come home to a baby and not know how it got here 9 (although he knows as much about this new baby sister as I could expect a 2.5 year old to). I still think 2.5-3 is too young and that it would be hard for all of us (himself for the most part) to have him here during the labor and birth. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to bend on this one.

Up until recently Henry just yelled and repeated himself when he wanted something. Such as, “go outside. Go outside. Go outside” ad infinitum. Now he WANTS and NEEDS things. Such as this evening when he NEEDED my nail file. “I need it. I need it. I need it” ad infinitum. (I do know how fucked up that punctuation is but I can’t be bothered at the moment. How’s that for lazy.) A somewhat subtle difference but I am so happy to have him talking in real sentences with pronouns that I can forgive the repetition for now. In that vein, he was hiding between pillows on our bed the other day and I said something about how he was hiding. He poked his head out and said, “yep. I’m hider man.”

A few days ago while walking down the street, a woman said. “oooooohhh. You’re so big. You’re having a big baby.” I said, “I hope not” and kept walking.

It’s 8:00pm and I am seriously considering getting myself off to bed shortly. It has just been that kind of day.

i guess it goes both ways

In the unsolicited pregnancy comment category, I had a completely different surprise question yesterday. At the grocery store I asked for some help finding polenta. I wouldn’t have thought course ground cornmeal would be so elusive. So, as we were looking, the young woman helping me asked if I was pregnant. I was wearing my old blue wool coat (non-maternity) that barely buttons across my front so I probably did look rather generic blob like. It went something like this.
her: are you pregnant?
me: oh, yes.
her: nice. I thought you just had a really strange body shape.
me: nope.

And yet another little Henry anecdote before I get back to the work that is dragging me down tonight. As I was putting him down in bed and saying goodnight...
Me: I love you. Night night.
H: Yippie-i-o.
Me: (laughing) Good night yippie-i-o boy.
H: Good night e-i e-i-o yippie-i-o mommy.

Contrary to evidence I have been sharing with you, Henry has had minimal exposure to, and little interest in, anything cowboy. He just seems to be taken with the lingo. I guess I can’t blame him.

knock, knock

It seems like it was only a matter of hours after I wrote my last post, in which I pretty much said I’d rather be up all night taking care of a kid than my bladder, that Henry decided to put that bullshit theory to the test. It was just one of his usual snotty, coughing colds but sleep has been sucking mightily this week. I am sort fog catching up on sleep but I have been in a fog all week. Jason had to do so work so thankfully he was able to take Henry to my mom’s for a few hours this morning so I can get some freelance web work out of the way. I have been putting it off forever and finally got a deadline from my client. I am still not interested in doing it but I hate having things hanging over my head so this is for the best. I also got a serious draft of my biggest project done at work this week so I am beginning to see a small, faraway light at the end of the tunnel.

Oh yeah, random but since I mentioned it before, I am off wheat, which is a huge pain but I am feeling much better so it’s definitely worth it. We’ll just see if this continues to be an issue with the kid while breastfeeding and beyond for me. Probably wouldn’t be such a bad thing but, oy the inconvenience!

Henry has discovered the knock knock joke. He’s still a little young to really get it the whole structure completely but he loves saying either part, particularly if it includes “bannana who?” He has tried to make up a few himself, one of which includes a chicken bone. Kids (or is it just mine?) are so fucking weird. On one hand he’s just repeating what he has heard and trying to make people laugh. This is completely expected but the part I love is that I will find him muttering the lines of the joke to himself and cracking up. And I mean really cracking up like he is being tickled and can’t catch his breath. He’ll be all red-cheeked from laughing and say “who’s there? Orange, mama! So funny.” and roll his eyes and laugh some more. It’s pretty much the best thing ever.

I have gotten some polite cues from friends that they are sick of hearing me mention/bitch about how big my belly is and how one or two random people have commented about it. Fair enough. But, without the bitching and moaning and can you believe what that person/bitch said I will continue to document the unsolicited comments here. Just for the record and because I simply can’t let it go altogether. So, perhaps this will be the last but that’s not a bet I would be willing to take. Earlier in the week, while waiting to order at a Mexican restaurant, a couple of women engaged me in pleasantries about how cute Henry was being and how old he was, etc. one of them then asked if he knew about the baby. Yes. Then she asked if I was there to eat spicy food to get the baby to “come now.” I said, “No, I’m not even close.” They both said with wide eyes, “Really! How far are you?” I said, “six months.” Then came my favorite, “is it twins?” Nope. That was close to it and Henry and I quickly moved away to sit as fast as I could. Hmm, not ending with my commentary on that is harder than I thought but I will refrain.