When Artie was around 18 months, Tom and I felt like we’d gotten into a good rhythm. I’d written this post a few months before and was still enjoying this early phase of toddlerhood. Artie was happy at home, happy at his daycare, happy at our friends’ homes and various playgrounds where he proved to be surprisingly independent. He was always down to explore or up for a jump.
Pregnancy is a test of willpower. It seems to be a series of tiny tests I conquered somewhat regularly in the second trimester but now, nearing the end and feeling fatigued most of the day most days, find myself failing one after another.
Should I get out of bed? Should I read something aside from internet trash? Should I eat something aside from cereal? Should I go to yoga? Should I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, turn to my other side, or get a drink of water? The discomfort is great but my lack of willpower is often greater. I wonder, when labor strikes, where I’ll summon up the energy to push the baby out. There is an alternative to pushing, I know, but I’m hoping all the lying around right now is actually self-preservation for the big day. One can hope.Continue reading “Pancakes”→
“It feels like your wedding was ages ago,” my cousin said on the phone last night.
It does and it doesn’t. We’ve been stumbling back into real life, the first week a blur thanks to jet lag, and now, three weeks in, the muted “oh…” feeling has fully settled in: the realization that, after the wedding, nothing really changes about you or your spouse or your life unless you make it so. Continue reading “Don’t Blink”→