No, not that I had a blog. I remember I have a blog. I remember I should be writing here to document the times of our life… I’m not a scrapbooker. And while my iphone photos are backed up on Flickr and Dropbox, I have few printed out.
I need to remember my daughter identifying her colors – green and yellow first (srsly?). I need to remember the first time she walked backwards (sometime in November?). I need to remember the joy I feel when I hear she’s eaten all of her lunch at daycare, or slept without a bottle, or sat down on the potty last night while doing twinkle fingers.
There’s no way I can remember all of this.
Not when my pelvis feels like it’s being crushed. Not when I cannot get a full breath into my lungs, even though C4 has dropped. Not when I am on the phone so much at work that my headset actually dies. Whine, whine, whine.
Nah, this end of third trimester stuff gets a little difficult. I seem to have forgotten the pain and the weariness and the emotions. Dear Lord, I broke down the other day because C^3 was getting a sister and she didn’t ask for one and omg I’m ruining her life. This babe is measuring big, just like her older sister did. I’m sort of a giant, there’s no way I’m birthing a six-pound peanut. I feel like I’ve got three weeks left, although the calendar says five.
Her dresser and mirror are in the garage waiting for a fresh coat of paint. I sewed her curtains and baby blanket instead of going to church on Sunday (the thought of putting on clothes and walking out of my house was simply too much). She’s got art ready to hang in her room. I’ve stripped and washed diapers. Tomorrow, I’ll freshly wash all of the baby things in Dreft – yes, I succomb to Dreft. Seems we’re super super sensitive to detergents and soaps up in here, so I’m just gonna go ahead and dive in early.
Saturday my sweet family and friends are giving me a little sprinkle (ahem, a small shower). I’m tickled, but also geezus so tired. Sunday, I took two naps and still fell asleep by 9pm. We missed going on our weekend away because of another respiratory thing (C^3’s lungs just ain’t what they should be). K and I needed the time away – just the two of us – but, we don’t feel bad about missing the weekend. It is what it is – this parenting small children thing. I can speak for us both when I say we wouldn’t have it any other way.