Rattled

Our baby was a month early and it still sometimes feels like I'm cramming to catch up; he's growing up fast and it's not easy to keep abreast of the changes.  I finally made him a toy rattle, and I'm pretty sure he would have enjoyed it even more a month or two ago, but he still took some time to check it out before breakfast this morning.

As our move plans remain in limbo, I'm trying to stay distracted with projects like this one, which seem to collect both in my brain and in our physical space.  It's always nice to cross something off a list, especially when I can use up leftover bits of yarn and materials.  This project is from a book of knitting projects for babies called Natural Nursery Knits.

I Want the Village

We were never supposed to move to Houston.  My husband and I agreed when we got married that we would never move to Houston; we were united in our sense that it was the wrong place to build our lives, in spite of his professional opportunities there.  Geography has been a tricky puzzle for us from day one, but we believed we would eventually find a way around it.

That was seven-ish years ago.  The surprise we have felt at not hating life in Houston, and even rather enjoying it, has been noted on many occasions in this blog; and has been accompanied by multiple other surprises since moving here.

Finally

It’s been busy.  

My husband and I just returned from taking our baby on a trip to Missouri to see family. We spent four days in a house with six other people, bringing the household total to nine people, ranging in age from six months to forty-six years. We arrived in time for an ice storm and were essentially snowed in until our departure.  It was our first trip with the baby, and while it went well, it was intense.  I still can't believe that I was one of those people at the airport that I always pitied in the past (a person with a baby and a stroller and car seat and unbelievable amounts of shit in my luggage and carry-ons).

In spite of snow days and trips, I finally made something practical for the baby, with extra bits I already had, instead of buying new stuff:

I borrowed the pattern from some other bibs given to us as gifts, and used my serger to keep it fast and simple.  The material came from a hand-me-down baby blanket that we did not need.  They are not beautiful, but they are something that I made with resources I already had, which felt good.  As the baby starts to eat real food, I am coming to realize that I will need many, many, many bibs.  And a sense of humor.

Also, we’re moving.  Stay tuned.

Backing Into the Day

My husband backs into every single parking space that he uses.  When we first met it was mysterious to me, and I won't lie, odd.  Over time I have become used to it and have ferreted out the reason: he was brainwashed by his former employer of ten years.  There are many things about that company that I did not appreciate, but on this particular matter, their intentions were good.

Apparently, backing into parking spaces increases the rates of safe driving (or should I say 'decreases the rate of accidents while driving'?).  The logic is that we are paying more attention to the matter at hand when we arrive at a location than we do when are when we are departing.  When we depart, we are already thinking about what will be next after leaving the parking lot.  In other words, while we are driving in reverse, our minds are on other things.  Thus, accidents.

I have a habit of preparing for my next day as much as I can the night before.  Mostly it is a leftover habit from when I had to wake up outrageously early in the mornings for work; I tried to pack items I would need for the day and leave them by the door, or place items that I was likely to forget with items that I couldn't possibly leave without (i.e. put the book that I was likely to forget next the keys that I was physically unable to leave without). Planning outfits the night before, or packing lunches the night before, produces this same effect.  We try to dummy-proof our morning in order to maximize precious minutes.

I find that I am happiest when I do the same thing as a mom; it turns out that it is the best way to steal time in which to work on non-mom projects.  While I do not often have to leave the house early, I do still need to maximize hands-free and baby-free minutes.  So I do things like putting out my breakfast cereal bowl, pre-filled, and preparing the baby's morning bottle and diaper bag, before I go to bed.  It's not rocket science, nor is it a new technique.  The only innovation is that I now refer to it as backing into my day, which also has helped my husband understand these habits not as something neurotic and silly, but something that makes all of us have a smoother, more pleasant morning.

Backing into my day is one life strategy which allowed me to finish knitting a vest this week for my son, luckily while it still fits him.

Rotation Mom

My husband works what is known in the oil industry as "a rotation".  More specifically, it is known as "an even rotation", meaning that he works a certain number of days, and then goes on an identical number of "days off" (oil-speak for days of separation from work, or what normal people call the weekend or a vacation).  The only way to experience the magic of an even rotation is to work somewhere that is considered a "hardship location" (oil-speak for places shitty and largely inaccessible to casual visitors or interested parties).  When we met, he was working an even rotation (two weeks on, two weeks off) on the North Slope of Alaska.  Currently he works an even rotation (four weeks on, four weeks off), in Luanda, the capital city of Angola.  Some people actually do not consider Angola a shitty place to live, and expats are apparently flocking there. Even so, since it is nearly impossible to get a visitor visa, all food has to be imported, the civil war hasn't been over for that long, and possibly other reasons, it is still more commonly a rotation location than a transfer location.



The upshot of all of this is that for twenty-eight days in a row, I am not only home alone with a baby, but I am also separated by a seven-hour time difference for twenty-eight days from his dad, who is also my husband and my best friend. We depend on a strong internet connection for voice and video communication, and catching a flight for a quick visit is not an option.  After those twenty-eight days pass, we are reunited as a family for what feels like twenty-eight days of weekend.  I've started to leave the house a lot during that time, so he can see how it feels to be a single parent.

Just kidding.

You can't think like that if you choose to do life this way, even though I have been tempted to do so on the rough days.  I imagine thinking like that is trouble and can only lead to bad blood and hurt feelings.  I said that I would give this an honest try for a year, and I am doing my best to support our choice.

Rotation life is tricky, and I'm still not totally sold on it.  It scares me to think of what could happen to our son if I got sick, and it's a bummer to not have a co-parent to check in with during a bout of screaming or a suspicious unidentified inflammation.  At times it feels that we are living two entirely different lives, which in my opinion is not conducive the team-building vibe that marriage requires.  Additionally, we have not yet figured out how to balance our needs for couple-time, family-time, friend-time, extended family time and maybe a non-family related vacation once and a while, all in exactly fifty percent of his days.  As a result, I find myself clingy and cantankerous prior to his departures, which is not at all my way when times are normal.  Also, it's just considerably less fun for twenty-eight days, plus a few awkward transition days on either end of the rotation.

I often wonder what others would do if they were in our shoes.  If they reviewed the same math, weighed the pros and cons, and considered the true impact of the circumstances of their work lives, would they be tempted to try this, as we have been?  What is their price?  Everyone must have a price.  We have weighed options, numbers, and calendars and on some level we must have determined that his particular day rate was worth the pain of the separation, at least temporarily.  We have considered his schedule and concluded that having approximately 180 days off a year together without other obligations is worth living in separate countries for the other 180ish days.  We have reflected on the fact that a full-time job for him in Houston would give him more frequent and regular time with our son (i.e. most evenings and weekends), but not necessarily more quality time with him since mornings and days are when he is the happiest and most interactive.

However, in spite of my doubt, I can report that some of the rumored perks of rotation life have surfaced now that I am emerging from my newborn-care cave.  My husband has been home for a few weeks and many of the days have felt like a nice long weekend days with all of us spending time together and with him being a full-time dad, while giving me some breaks from my daily grind activities.  We enjoy breakfasts out on weekdays and we share parenting duties very equitably.  He gives me breaks to be crafty and get back in shape, I give him breaks to study for his master's degree.  The other fifty percent of the time, we both have full-time jobs: his job is to support us financially and my job is to sustain the home and family operations.  I'm still not convinced that I want this for the long term, but I hate it less this "hitch" than I did last time around, so who knows what our conclusion will be.

I'm curious who else out there who would try it.

Cliff Notes: Newborns

Many of my friends are either pregnant or are planning to be not far in the future, but have not really spent much time with babies, just as I had not prior to the arrival of our son.  This post is for you.  It is a wee primer on what I have learned so far, and truth be told, it would have helped me enormously to know these things before coming home from the hospital with a tiny infant in my care.

• White noise is not cheating.  It is a necessity, not a crutch.  Apparently it recreates the whooshing noisy atmosphere of the womb, where your new baby surprisingly would prefer to be.  Restaurants are also sometimes good for the white noise effect, although this can backfire.
• Most babies want to be held most of the time. Enjoy this before they get heavy and squirmy.
• Motion is essential: rocking, car rides, swings, jiggling, and walking all count.
• Babies, even if full-term, are not finished developing yet when they are born.  They can't hold anything except your finger and they can only see approximately twelve inches from their faces.
• Things that are snuggly and close-fitting (and that seem as though they would be terribly uncomfortable) are soothing to the tiny ones.  Hence, swaddles.  They also can't control their arms, and they hit themselves in the face as a result.  The hitting results in them being startled or woken up.  Really, check out swaddling.  
• Babies, much like my husband, use sleep as a system lockdown if they are overwhelmed.  They are easily and often over-stimulated.  Normal everyday settings, such as Target or a neighborhood park, or even a visit with an overly enthusiastic loved one, are sensory explosions and can provoke either crying or sleeping, or both.  This is why you see sleepy, blissfully unaware babies in their carriers at restaurants.  
• Tiny children love tiny babies.  They say "baby" or something like it, and point, when you walk by with your baby.
• When babies "tell you" that they are hungry, there are specific signs.  Even baby amateurs like me can learn the signs.  Newborns are hungry all the time.  I'm not exaggerating.  Their stomachs are the size of a marble when they are born and grow to the size of an egg by their tenth day.  Which explains why they need to eat so often and why they become ornery if you overfeed them-there is no room in there!
• Toys that appear cheesy and lame seem to make babies (and then as a result even their hipster design-obsessed parents) happy.
• Babies look longer at things that surprise them and they look away from things that bore them.
• Babies have to learn to connect their sleep cycles.  They learn to do this by learning how to self-soothe in-between the cycles (which are shorter than adult sleep cycles).  If they fall back asleep on their own even once, that is the beginning of them sleeping through the night.
• Babies are a great excuse to stay home, take it easy and/or to go to bed early.

Stroller Walking

The sidewalks of Houston are a study in extreme disrepair.  They are broken, multi-level, interrupted, sometimes non-existent, often blocked by vehicles, frequently encroached on by rowdy plant matter, and definitely not wheelchair or stroller-friendly.  As a result, I expected to grow extremely annoyed with my neighborhood while walking with the stroller.  The opposite has happened; I have grown more fond of this area as our daily walks have caused me to notice more features which have further endeared it to me.  Also I feel gratitude for the sturdy construction of our stroller.

I discovered, and later visited, a museum of print history.  It is on a side street and in an unassuming building that I almost didn't notice when I initially passed by.  Eventually it turned out to be a pleasant and stroller-friendly activity while my mom was visiting for the weekend.  It was especially excellent that there was a food truck out front and we were pleased with said truck's offerings.

Another Festival of Quilts

I can't believe it's been a year since I went to the Quilt Festival here in Houston.  Suddenly it's that time again.  I heard on the radio this week that the festival draws over sixty-thousand attendees and that quilters spend more money on quilting than hunters spend on hunting and golfers spend on golf, which kind of boggles the mind.  Regardless of the hoopla, I just go to see the amazing display quilts from around the world.

It is bizarre how everything is different in my life than it was a year ago, and it all started just after the festival last year.  Last year I hung around the festival with my camera for hours, exploring and admiring the art.  This year, I raced around the festival with my camera in my diaper bag and my baby in the stroller.  I held my breath for most of the time and finally did a slower, more leisurely stroll only after I was certain that I had seen the highlights, lest I miss anything if the baby erupted.  But he hung in there, and I enjoyed a decent overview.

I was not as taken with this year's quilts as I was with those from last year, but they were beautiful and inspiring nonetheless.  The highlights for me this year were other details, like the fact that the friendly and enthusiastic ticket-taker at the door greeted me with "You must be from Wisconsin!", which was remarkable since I had never seen him in my life.  Even though I'm not from Wisconsin, from down here Minnesota and Wisconsin are essentially the same thing, so I was willing to consider that an accurate statement. Then I realized that he figured it out because I was wearing a sleeveless top and it was only 72 degrees outside.  For Houstonians, this constitutes a chill in the air.

Another aspect of the festival that amused me this year that I didn't notice last year was the husband's lounge.  It was a walled-off area in the back of the convention hall equipped with a big TV and a bunch of comfy armchairs and lounge chairs.  Pretty smart, and thoughtful, in my opinion.

There was something else I noticed this year that had nothing to do with quilts.  I noticed how many people in the world love babies.  As a person who has always feared them desperately, this fact never ceases to amaze me.  A sleeping baby in a stroller is a grandma magnet, and I was in a convention hall overflowing with grannies.  It's really fun walking past people who reflexively smile and get a little dreamy, giggly look on their faces when they look at your tiny companion.

Regardless, there were also beautiful quilts.  Here is a sampling of what I saw:

Better Living Through Day Care

It is not my intention to drink margaritas every time that every time our son goes to day care, that's just how it worked out on the first day we tried it.

I wish I had spent more time before our son was born considering child care options.  I did not engage in any kind of serious search since I did not intend to start working in the time immediately following his birth.  I was planning to start making some lists of possibilities in the eighth month, but his early arrival trumped that plan.  To be honest, I wasn't sure what I needed or wanted, or if I needed any help at all. 

Unbalanced

The hardest thing for me so far in the baby adventure has been to find a balance between all things baby and all other things. I am clearly only one of millions to lament this challenge.

Prior to our son, I had unscheduled, low-pressure, not-so-career-path days.  I've always been good at entertaining myself.  I'm pretty sure the last time I felt bored was sometime in 2008.  Now, almost three months after his birth, I have to admit to harboring a little envy towards my friends who have jobs that they really value.  I expected motherhood to feel like an extension of my happy-at-home feeling, but I'm not sure if that is how it's turning out.  Our son is a sweet and lovely little boy, and I am beyond grateful to have the time to invest in his well-being, but my crafty creative urges and goals feel like they are withering on the vine and it worries me.  I even miss cooking, which is surprising.

One of my favorite resources on parenting so far is a book a read called Bringing Up Bébé.  I initially read this book before I was sure I wanted to have a baby, because it sounded interesting.  It was a great read, both before and during pregnancy.  It is funny, clear-eyed, culturally relevant, and well-written; truly an honest take on parenting, for Americans not just in France, but anywhere.  I just finished reading it for a third time right now, in-between nursing sessions, diaper changes, and hastily knit rows, to scan for any techniques that might help us remain calm and level-headed through the newborn grind.  Maybe it's a coincidence, but in my opinion, a few tidbits that I reviewed last week helped us achieve our first full nights of infant sleep since we brought the baby home from the hospital.

Baby Blanket

Doing It Myself (But Not Really)

There have been some big developments recently.  Last weekend was a big weekend in fact, but Sunday was especially noteworthy.  I had been home alone at that time for nine days in a row, and it has been intense and challenging.

One thing that happened was that I carved out enough time to knit four rows of a baby blanket that I started making soon after I learned that I was pregnant.  I swear it will be finished before his one year birthday.  It has to be or it won't be big enough to cover him after it's finished. Even a few rows a day at this point will get me there.

Another big event was when I took the baby for a walk in the stroller and we entered a coffee house so I could buy some tea and a croissant.  He did not cry.  He cried prior to our arrival and he cried soon after our departure, but I blame the unrelenting Texas heat for that. I give the baby credit for allowing me to get my treats without interfering with the quiet environment enjoyed by the other patrons.

Last weekend I also bathed the baby by myself, with no other person present in the house.  This also probably sounds insignificant unless you have ever held a newborn and understand how unpredictably their heads and limbs thrash about.  He is getting stronger by the hour and and extremely close to being able to hold his head up, but holding him in water without backup hands still intimidates me.

Slow Down to Go Faster

It turns out that babies cannot be rushed.  Especially ours, but my guess is probably most if not all.

As I mentioned in a previous post, our son does not eat quickly.  He nurses in a stop-and-go fashion, and so far any attempts on my part to alter his speed result in retribution when it is time to go down for the post-meal nap. In short, it is best to not separate him from the food source before he is ready, even if he is playing with his food.  This is probably common baby sense, but since I had no baby sense prior to this year, it was news to me.

Here are some other things I've learned this month about being home with an infant:

• Most parents do at least one thing while home alone with their infant that goes against pediatrician recommendations (which is one very good reason to try not to judge other people's parenting). Usually the illicit things parents are doing while home with their baby are related to the procurement of sleep.
• Digestion is everything. Also, digestion is profoundly linked to sleep.  Giving up too early on the burping, or skipping it if the baby looks sleepy, in order to get to the nap sooner, can have serious repercussions involving spit-up and sleep loss.
• An entire industry of products and services has grown up around trying to get your baby to sleep in the crib. Your baby will sleep happily anywhere but the crib.
• Sucking boogers out of your baby's nose using a glorified overpriced filtered straw is more fun than it sounds.
• Amazon Prime is worth it.
• You can order Jelly Bellys on Amazon, along with any other items which may or may not help you survive the first months of caring for a baby.

In the meantime, instead of trying to speed up the baby, I'm slowing down my pace. My goals for these days have become modest, if not skimpy.  They involve knitting a row instead of knitting for an hour or going for a walk instead of going for a run.

It's hard to let go but also nice sometimes to sit still with a snuggly, sleepy baby.

Like a Rolling Stone

I am not technically a fan of the Rolling Stones. Their music is fine to me, not bad, but just not necessarily what I seek. However, there is a song that has been rattling around in my brain for the better part of this strange year.

"I saw her today at the reception..."

My husband left a few days ago for his first four weeks in Angola. I have a range of emotional and mental responses to this, but admittedly at the moment they are mostly negative. I was not ready for him to go this time. I probably wouldn't have been ready a month from now, either. When we first discussed his possibly working on an overseas rotation, it was never coupled in my mind with being home alone with our newborn baby. I find this circumstance both logistically tricky and deeply emotional.

"A glass of wine in her hand..."


The people who read this blog and know us know that my husband is not a mean man. He is, in fact, quite caring. He tells me that many families like rotation life because the end result is that fifty percent of his time will be spent at home, as a full-time dad, not working. And also that the freedom of that schedule will allow us to spend more quality time with family and friends in Minnesota, the way we've often hoped to.

"I knew she was going to meet her connection..."

I believe him. I'm not immune to the positive aspects of his unusual work circumstances, but at the moment the intensity of the year has left me feeling overwhelmed and truly wiped out.

"At her feet was a footloose man..."

The day that he left felt like one of those really terrible days in life that you don't forget. He was busy preparing to go all day, and I was busy trying to care for the baby all day.  I sobbed when he got in the taxi.  Tears dropped from my eyes without warning throughout the days and nights surrounding his departure. Certainly pregnancy followed by newborn-induced sleeplessness exacerbated my intense feelings.

"You can't always get what you want..."

I, and we, had big plans for 2013. Big sewing plans, big professional plans, big travel plans, big financial goals, big plans for our new house. The curve balls were relentless though, and ultimately here I am, nursing our son in this dark nursery half-way around the world from my husband. It was a very different from what I imagined having a family might be like.

"You can't always get what you want..."

It's not that I'm not thrilled about our beautiful baby, or blind to the positives of my husband's work. But it is true that I believe families should try to be together, and that the way this year unfolded is what has caused me to believe that more firmly. Tricky.

"You can't always get what you want..."

It is scary to think about the coming solo weeks after Mom leaves. On the other hand, a lot of people have gone above and beyond to make sure that I don't feel alone or overwhelmed right now. One friend in particular has babysat more than once, brought ice cream and Chipotle, kidnapped me for a baby-free afternoon outside the house, helped me navigate my insurance coverage while I was stuck in my hospital bed, and even helped me improve my odds at continuing to breastfeed in the face of tricky circumstances when she saw, well before I did, how close we had come to not being able to do it. Other friends have dropped off food or helped watch the baby, and still others have sent things in the mail. My mom has not only baby-sat, given up sleep, and just sat still loving our baby for hours; but she has also helped me finish setting up and decorating the unfinished nursery by framing items and sewing bits that I had planned to do but had not completed prior to delivery.  All things considered, we feel loved and lucky, and I know that there are people I can call if I am truly struggling after my mom leaves.

"But if you try sometimes, you just might find..."

We are lucky for other reasons. My husband could easily have not been able to make it back for the birth of our son, but he did make it back. Also, we were able to be together from much of the pregnancy, and even more importantly, his strange job allowed him to be at home with us, full-time, for the first five weeks of our baby's life. Even though I am not quite yet able to feel happy and cheerful about the way this week and this month feel, my brain recognizes that it will all work, because it keeps doing that anyway, no matter what happens.

"You get what you need..."

I can't deny that we have what we need: love, health, each other, and some extras. Just like the song says.

Feed the Beast

I've been a little bit surprised to find that breastfeeding feels like the most difficult part of taking care of a newborn.  Probably this is a reflection of my inexperience with babies and parenthood, but to be honest, this was one area where I did not realize I was ill-prepared.  By that I mean that I had read an entire book on breastfeeding, nearly cover-to-cover, before our son was born.

W(h)ine To Go

Our son is just over three weeks old now, which I find a little shocking in light of the fact that we haven't yet reached his due date.  The learning curve has been steep and the emotions are intense.  A flood of love and affection, both for him and my husband, who is turning out to be quite the baby-whisperer, but also emotions that are not always positive...fear and worry...discomfort at the loss of my old familiar self and worry for the future of our son in such a messy world.  We are managing pretty well, I think, one day at a time.  Our son has been reasonably accommodating, in my opinion.  Considering that he is technically a preemie, he is eating well and sleeping pretty well and we feel lucky that he hasn't had any other health challenges.

I have had a handful of health challenges which have made newborn care slightly more trying, but the assistance of my husband and several friends has made a huge difference.  The conditions of our son's early delivery necessitated a Caesarean section for me, which kept us in the hospital for a full week when combined with the blood pressure complications that I experienced.  As a result, the last three weeks have involved juggling extra medicine, simultaneous mandates to rest more and pump more and feed more but sleep more, and a also ban on driving.  I feel foolish because I never knew that newborns eat every two or three hours (sometimes even more) and trying to learn how to function as a normal human at the same time as these other tricky things finally built up in a big pile and left me ornery yesterday.  It all would have been impossible without the full-time help of my husband, but still there was no denying that even with his excellent help, I woke up cantankerous.

The Day Before

A notion on my mind in recent months has been the feeling of that moment when your entire universe changes, particularly those occasions when it happens with no warning.  I also can't stop thinking about the hours and days right before that moment...the time when you had no idea what was about to happen to you.  Unfortunately, many of those moments involve something terrifying or otherwise negative, but sometimes they are also created by events that are wildly positive.  Maybe you find out something shocking about someone you love, or maybe a beloved pet is harmed unexpectedly.  Maybe marriage was proposed when you did not expect it.  Perhaps there is bad news about your health, or you are victimized by one of the many severe weather events that seem to come more frequently now.  Maybe, just maybe, your baby arrives a month early, but still completely healthy.  Suddenly, your entire point of view has been altered, and other problems which loomed prior to said event become minor; correctly repositioned in the grand scheme of things.

Start With an Onion

Third Trimester: Monitoring and Adjusting Accordingly

I have dropped some balls during the last couple of months.  If my husband was here, he would very kindly tell me that it is not true; he doesn't like to hear me critical of my own accomplishments (or lack thereof).

But here I am, deep into my third trimester, and still so much unfinished business!  After our period of extended waiting came to an abrupt end, my husband's few days in the Gulf of Mexico in May turned into three weeks, followed by forty-eight hours at home, and now over a month in Indonesia, with the return date still fuzzy but possibly occurring in mid-July.  All of that is helpful from a financial point of view, but less so from a physical and sometimes emotional point of view.  Who knew that the end of pregnancy was so tricky?  Obviously lots of people, but not me; I can't say that I had a full understanding.  Seeing other people do something, and then doing it oneself are two very different animals.

I have had many kind offers of assistance, and it's not that any particular one thing is impossible, yet.  But everything is just slower and clumsier.  I have only one speed, and it is not the one to which I am accustomed.  It takes longer to get dressed and get organized.  I have to take breaks and put my feet up a lot, otherwise I morph into Shrek from the hips to my toes; it seems I'm one of the lucky ones who experiences edema (significant swelling of the legs and feet).  These are small things and I am grateful to not have other more severe concerns, but these things also mean that my high hopes for getting lots done before this little guy comes into the world have been edited to a more moderate altitude.

I was not a particularly gifted teacher.  Most of us that have tried teaching are not.  Like any profession, many of us were fine, having some good days, occasional great days, some bad days and lots of average days in the middle.  Lesson planning was not an area of strength for me, but on the other hand, I was usually adept at changing the course of the lesson on the fly if I could see that the students were not with me.  The education term for this technique was 'monitor and adjust' and it was something that came naturally to me from the beginning.  What's funny to me now is how much I need that skill in my daily non-teaching life.

We have to monitor our home life and adjust plans regularly, as the course of my husband's career takes unexpected turns.  I have had to monitor the impact of all of that on my own goals and adjust my decisions accordingly.  And this year, we have had to monitor our expectations for happiness, togetherness, parenthood, and financial health and adjust appropriately.  The outcomes and structure of the next couple of years are still fuzzy, but our emotional health so far remains firmly intact.  Luckily this feels like a winning adjustment.

In the meantime, some of my other activities have been monitored and largely forsaken as a result of adjusting to the limitations of late pregnancy.  One example is shaving.  Sorry if this is T.M.I. to any male readers out there, but how would you like to shave your face if you couldn't reach it or see it?  I haven't given up all the way, but I can tell that my days are numbered.  Another activity is cleaning the house...it still happens, but very gradually, in stages.  Sitting at the dinner table or in a restaurant for very long is also getting very uncomfortable.  According to the medical people in my life, when I'm sitting up with my feet on the floor, my baby, bless his sweet soul, is cutting off the blood supply that is trying to flow back up from my legs to my heart, which is what causes the extreme Shrek-style foot and ankle swelling.  Traveling is definitively out these days, as is sitting in the sun, which also triggers the swelling switch.  

One more activity has had to be adjusted, but not necessarily just because of the pregnancy...I have slowed down a little on the bread and cooking goals for the year (I was aiming for one new loaf a week and one new recipe a week).  Turns out that being home alone with a lot of baked goods and cooked food just leads to me eating more than I should and to running out of room in the freezer.  I'm still cooking, but I just had to slow it down and not worry about it for a bit while I caught up.  Now that things are kind of caught up, it might be time to start cooking again to make a supply of meals for when we first bring the baby home.

So have I dropped some balls, or just made some appropriate adjustments?  Not sure.  But I can say that now that I'm finally putting together the nursery, there are some sewing projects for the baby that are behind schedule.  Will they get finished?  I don't know.  If they don't, I'm sure the baby and I will both adjust accordingly.

The Art of Waiting

I'm home alone, which is weird.  I don't think I have been home alone, at least not for more than a couple of hours, since sometime in July.  In the past, home alone was a relatively common occurrence, as my husband was called upon to be away for work days or even weeks at a time.  In the last few years, it has been a more minimal amount.  In the last few months, it has been not at all.  We have been waiting.  A lot.  Not waiting for him to leave, so much as waiting for his next contract to start.

It seems like we get wrapped up in a waiting period like this every couple of years; far more often than I would have imagined when I was younger and considered what the life of a grown-up entails.  In my late teens and early twenties, I was vaguely aware that momentous events would occur in adulthood.  I knew that I might get married, or choose not to...I knew that I would likely move to another state or country...I knew that I could experience illness or the loss of a loved one.  There was a strong possibility that I might change careers, or face the disappointment of not landing a certain coveted job.  I did not spend as much time imagining or planning my future as I now think I should have, but I suspect that even if I had, it would have never occurred to me to plan for how to handle long and relatively frequent periods of waiting for outside forces to ascertain major parameters of the timing and geography of my daily life.