March 15, 2010

Babies everywhere

Thursday morning before I had shaken the sleep from my eyes I received a texted picture on my phone of my new nephew. He looked VERY new, with red chubby cheeks and swollen eyes, bundled tightly in the ubiquitous hospital swaddling blankets. I cried because he was so beautiful.

Friday night I got to walk around a store for a long while holding a little three-month old baby girl. She snuggled into my shoulder and chewed her fingers, leaving a big drooly spot on my shirt. It felt WONDERFUL. When it was time to go, I almost forgot (on purpose) to give her back to her mom.

Saturday I visited my friend at the hospital and held her newborn daughter, a mere half-day old. I sat in the big rocker and snuggled her against me. She made little faces and yawned and gurgled and slept. Several times I won smiles (okay, probably just intestinal side-effects, but still, they looked smiley, so it counts). After carting around Silvia and Anna for so long, the weight of her felt wispy, dreamlike, in my arms.

Last night, I relaxed on the couch, my swollen calves propped up on pillows, to catch up on my DVR'd shows for a bit after the girls were in bed. I missed nearly the entire episode of Grey's Anatomy because I couldn't take my eyes off the bumps, punches and general movement visible against the skin of my belly. Every time I saw the shape of my stomach shift, I smiled and pushed right back. I found myself, (cheesy as it is), humming a little nonsense tune to see if it had any effect on the baby's movement.

It did.

March 12, 2010

getting it together

Nesting? How can I be nesting? I'm still 4 months out from birthin' time, but the urge to GET EVERYTHING READY is pretty all consuming these days. I'm sure it's just a control thing. After all, the world feels pretty much out of control at the moment, so grasping at preparations and organization give me something to hold on to. I'm that way, always need an anchor, even if it's just a list for the grocery store and an exercise routine for the gym.

That's right, the gym. I was blow-drying my hair the other day and casually watching my tricep-area wave back and forth in the flow of air when it hit me that I haven't really exercise, much less done any strength training since that little test came back positive. While for some this may seem like a "Woohoo!" kind of moment, implying relaxation, for me I just felt yucky.

Last year I got myself into the best shape of my life. I LIKED having muscle tone and fitting into cute outfits and feeling strong enough to keep up with my kids and my family and all the fun things you can do when you're body doesn't hold you back. Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I don't still want all of that.

Besides which, I always feel better, in general, when I make the time and force myself to work out. It gives me a sense of accomplishment and, yes, control. (Sensing a theme here?) I dragged my not-so-firm rear end to the gym and met with a trainer for a complimentary session to set up a good pregnant-friendly routine. I left feeling VERY SORE but motivated. Besides, I'm going to need those arm muscles come this summer for when I end up having to carry three children, a stroller and a 10-pound diaper bag through the mall. You KNOW that will happen at least once.

On top of that, I've decided to make a full-force effort to get a hold of our "what's for dinner?" disaster. I say "our", but I really mean "my". I hate cooking, I hate planning something every night, I hate 5 o'clock. I even hate when I cook something really disgustingly bad and Kurt eats it anyway in a show of love and support. Just makes me feel worse. He once at an entire serving of nearly frozen broccoli just to be nice.

But it's part of my life right now, so this week I've worked on sucking it up and getting it done. I went through my cookbooks and magazines and made a reference list of about 20 of my favorite recipes. Then, next to the reference, I jotted down a list of the basic ingredients for each recipe. Now I can just scan the list once a week, pick out 4 or 5 dinners, make a grocery list and get 'er done.

While I don't ENJOY any of this and will have to force myself to plan and then prep and then actually cook every night (or most nights), it's better than the all the freak-out I feel when I have no idea what to feed my family.

Being organized is a pain in the butt, but you know what? It puts me back in... CONTROL. Ah-ha!