It is indeed a strange day when I wake thoroughly rested and with few scary thoughts in my head. I’m not complaining, and the Beebs greatly appreciates my relative lack of stress, evidenced by her fervent free-for-all kicking. She’s a swimmer.
A note on her kicking that I’ve been meaning to bring up for awhile:
A couple weeks ago it made me angry. There’s something about expressing anger about a baby kicking inside me. It’s a sentiment that I felt very uncomfortable with and was embarrassed to complain to B about because I thought it would make him think I’m not going to be a very patient parent. How can you be angry at the little person you wanted so badly, who is clearly thriving within you? Well, it’s tied up a lot in exhaustion. Case in point: the other day I couldn’t even watch five minutes of Ugly Betty without getting royally annoyed by her normally charmingly awkward self and having to shut it off. Just get your dang braces off, Betty. Seriously. I was too tired for it. Same with Bebe. Sometimes the exhaustion just turns me into host witch mommy. I
think know I’m allowed that.
A couple of weeks ago when I was dancing on the verge of insanity, I wasn’t all that aware of her movements. It could have been that she simply wasn’t moving much because I was passing on my stress to her, and she coped by just laying low and sleeping. It could have also been that I wasn’t paying any attention to her, so what movements she did exert I wasn’t focusing on. It’s probably a little bit of both. I’ve always been poor at diagnosing what’s going on in me and I can’t imagine this would be any exception.
However, we’re turning a corner in the pregnancy as in life. Bebe is a big girl now and thusly so is Mommy. As my and my baby’s body (bodies? hmmm) grow, I’m realizing *again* that most of the things I worry about are inconsequential, as they pretty much always have been. While having a baby inside you tends to force you to take everything much more seriously, it can just as easily make you take everything with a proverbial grain of salt. I’m in the grain of salt camp right now and it’s working out quite well because the baby clearly isn’t as stressed as she was.
She’s kicking moving splashing swimming and I’m taking a lot of joy from it. I’m resting a lot better too. Something tells me they’re connected.
I suppose it’s easy to think happy thoughts when things are going well, which they are. The job in Memphis is looking very promising. I’ve heard back from the headmaster and I’m interviewing for the position in February when I’m in town for the baby shower. I feel very confident about it, and that gives a pleasant shade to my world. I could just as easily not get the job, but we’d work it out. This is Our Life, after all.
One thing my mom always said to me when I was growing up that rings true is that everything is temporary. She usually said this to encourage me when I was going through some adolescent unpleasantness, but it’s true for everything, I think. Time is transient and before I know it Miss Bebe will no longer be inhabiting my uterus; she’ll be out in the world being her own little (and then big) person. We won’t live in Fayetteville anymore, and as unpleasant as I now feel it is to be living here, we’ll remember good things about it and wonder that we always complained about it. I already feel like Chicago seems so far away. It had a lot of permanence to it when I lived there, but now it’s just a chapter in my book.
The constants that I do have in my life are good ones: B and the baby. That gives me an incredible amount of confidence and happiness, more than I ever could get from a job or a place.