As measurable to an exact day a pregnancy can be…I’m six months today. Hello, what?! Where did the time go?
Some days I feel that this baby is going to come and have to sleep in the hallway because his/her room won’t be done. I know, I know…we’ll get it done, and s/he will be in our room for a bit anyway…but that doesn’t stop me from counting the time left as I stare into the cluttered soon-to-be nursery…*breathe in, breathe out*
Beyond that, everything is good. I have a little gymnast who prefers to partake in acrobatics post-meal time, and generally when daddy's not around to feel the little thumper. He has felt a kick…once. Come on child, behave for your daddy!
I was told the other day that I “looked too comfortable pregnant” and that may be a problem. His interpretation of the word Problem=large Tessier litter…hah! He hasn’t spoken to my husband about that. But really, it’s true. I know I’m extremely lucky in my pregnancy. All is healthy, and, well, for this trimester pretty comfy. I don’t take that for granted, be sure of that. I have a few other lovely lady friends pregnant right now who I totally feel for…and keep me counting my blessings everyday.
And, another reason it’s good that I don’t know this child’s gender (and if I occasionally resort to the term “he” it’s just b/c it’s easier—don’t read anything into it.):
In other parts of my life…those Cleaning Pixies. Know them? Yeah, well, I need one…or five. I cannot catch up to keep up with my house (hey look, they weed gardens too!). Between not enough free hours of the day or sufficient energy (and/or motivation) I’m scraping by. This weekend was productive—hubs mowed the lawns, cleaned up the backyard, fixed the garbage disposal…and I finished hanging the curtains (finally!). See there, mostly hubs’ work. So yeah, send me a Pixie…then maybe I can at least keep up with the house. (Don’t even dare say “wait until you have kids” or you may get hurt—don’t you think I realize that?)
Also, we now have a mini-menagerie of critters at our home. Besides the two kitty monsters, we currently have a canine houseguest. The little monkey butt nephew of mine has had a rough go of it these few first weeks of his impish life and is currently in the hospital. So we’ve taken in his doggy friend so his mommy and daddy don’t have to worry about him.
Therefore, mealtime is this house is pretty demanding…cats are tripping us, while dog—hearing the kitty commotion—give his few woofs, all while I’m starting coffee and trying to get Marc’s lunch done before he rushes out the door. It’s all good because Mr. Shadow is as laid back as they come…he wormed his way into the house—in his crate—and doesn’t even bark at the cats uneasily sidestepping their way past him. Our first dilemma only arose today—Marc tells me he may be working late….ummm…dog? you know, needs to be let out to pee? Yeah we’re used to cats. So we’ve worked that one out, but it was a new one for us.
So now that I’ve put to good use this past fifteen minutes to blog and not clean, I guess I should get to it…unless of course, one of those pixies is already on their way over.