I’m in the home stretch of this pregnancy, but I can’t even think about it right now. My weekly pregnancy countdown email tells me:
Fat chance! Packers come next Monday. When I went to bed last night, my thighs burned from all the squatting and stretching and walking up and down the stairs. I did get a load of stuff off to Goodwill today – hooray, less to move.
Unfortunately all this physical exertion is doing nothing to combat pregnancy insomnia. I’m lucky if I make it until 4 am. Last night, it was 2 am.
I think I’m totally over any anxiety about becoming a parent. But I did have a memorable dream last night. We were moving into a new house. It was huge, neverending. I couldn’t find my way around it. Then somebody – some man I don’t know – asked if I liked the baby stuff he had given me. Not knowing exactly what he was talking about, he led me to a totally different part of the house I had never seen (passing through three complete kitchens on the way). There was a room filled with baby stuff – enough to stock an orphanage. He pulled out a baby carrier and told me how much he enjoyed carrying his own children in that particular carrier and how he hoped I would like it and get a lot of use out of it.
1. A huge house that would need to be cleaned
2. Too much baby stuff: that carrier would put me up to 5 (how many carriers does one baby need?)
3. Other people’s sentimental objects that they want me to use, making me feel guilty if I donate them to someone else (again, how many carriers does one baby need?)
4. All those thank you notes that I have to write