the road to nowhere is paved with good intentions

Really, truly, my friends – I do have the best of intentions when it comes to writing more. It’s just that it’s summer here, and our Prairie summers are short and must therefore be savoured and absorbed with great gusto. And then there’s, you know, life. I’m trying to get back to the blissful unscheduled existence I had a while back, but it’s tricky, cause I really do like doing everything I have scheduled. I think I just need support staff – someone to handle the grocery shopping and house cleaning and garden weeding and planning and organizing – and then I will be liberated to catch up on blog posts and emails and the like.

Yes, that sounds awfully good right about now.

My sister’s FIL did pass away, and while it has been hard on everyone, I think they are doing as well as can be expected. My nephew is doing ok with it although like all grieving people, he will be going through a process for quite a while yet. I was able to spend the day with him and his little brother the day that his grandpa died, and it feels good to know that I could help in some way, even if it did just involve playing in the yard and going on a shopping expedition for sidewalk chalk, washable markers and popsicles.

I am starting to look pregnant. For reals. I have to say that I get completely humbled and amazed at least once a day at it all, and Manny is no doubt becoming quite sick of me exclaiming, “Dude! I look PREGNANT!” in a tone of complete awe. I am 22 weeks today and seem to have hit the stage where I cannot possibly eat enough. I need to eat around the clock, like I was on antibiotics or something. Last night when I was going to bed I was just about to turn off the light when I realized I needed to eat. How sad that a homemade wheat-free banana muffin with a thick slab of cream cheese on it has become a sort of a chore.

I have a feeling I’m going to have to start watching myself a bit with my food intake – my ass and belly are the only things that have really gotten bigger, but that could all change in a couple weeks if I keep downing the calorie-rich snacks the way I have been. On the other hand, I have also been eating really well overall – I made a fabulous quinoa-black bean salad last week that provided a number of tasty lunches. If you want the recipe, you can find it here – it is definitely worth making. I skipped their crazy quinoa cooking instructions because I am too lazy – I just used less water, fluffed it with a fork and then chilled it overnight in the fridge before making the salad and it turned out fine. I also omitted the jalapenos because while they would be very delicious, heartburn is currently my mortal enemy and I fear excessive spice. Mild green chilies might have made a good substitute, though. Will try that next time.

Um, boring much, Anna? Here’s even more:

I have been wanting to cut my hair short for the past couple weeks since it got hot. My last haircut wasn’t with my usual person and she left it way too thick, and then I haven’t gotten it cut in about 3 months, so it’s feeling pretty heavy right now. Every week at flamenco class I turn pink like a lobster and fantasize about chopping it all of so it doesn’t make my neck all sweaty, but then I hesitate. Partly because everyone tell me not to cut it (why I even ask is beyond me since I know I look good with short hair and most people I ask have only seen me with a bob or longer hair) and also because I always had it in my mind that I would cut my hair really short when I have my baby. I do like to change my hair as part of big life changes and for some reason I just want to have a super short and cute haircut when I have a new baby. But my sister correctly pointed out that short hair is a lot more work – you can’t just ignore it like you can with my trusty current bob. So I am going to cut it fairly short now and over the summer, and then probably let it return to the bob into the fall and once the baby is born. I am going to get it cut on Thursday and promise pictures unless it’s a total trainwreck. Or maybe especially if it’s a total trainwreck. Although I rarely get truly bad haircuts – the worst one of my life was circa 1989 when the gal spent about 15 minutes cutting and 45 minutes crimping it with a huge crimping iron and hairspraying and teasing it into oblivion, and even that wasn’t so bad once I washed it. I was heavily into The Cure at that point, but had no desire to actually resemble Robert Smith.

I am dying to go swimming but I am loathe to spend big money on a maternity bathing suit. In an attempt to find a bargain that might work, I tried on some bikinis the other day and not only was the sight of my pale white belly not exactly attractive, I also had trouble with the tops providing adequate coverage for my veiny, swollen boobs. Going up sizes didn’t help either because the band around the chest was too loose, so I don’t really know what to do. Manny might find it sexy to see me displaying ample boobage but I would prefer to avoid the very real possibility of flashing my browner-by-the-day areolas to the world at large.

I have had some deep thoughts lately but need to work harder on formulating them into coherent blog posts. One of the big things has been around identity, and one of the other big things that has been plaguing me is how weird I find it that once I started to feel the wee bit moving around, my anxiety actually increased. Like when I haven’t felt any kicks in a while, I just sit still and start jiggling my belly until I feel a thump. Or I eat something or drink a glass of juice. It occurred to me this morning that I’m starting to get into this pattern where I am deliberately bugging my baby to make myself feel better, and that seems a bit wrong to me. So I am going to work on finding other ways to manage my anxiety when it comes rather than just harassing this little being. Not all the time, but at least some of the time.

Manny and I hit a garage sale on Saturday that was all baby and kid stuff, and we scored some pretty sweet deals. We picked up a glider rocker for $20 – it is oak and in really good shape and its only flaw is a fairly ugly cushion. Fortunately, said cushion just velcroes onto the chair and will be very easy to re-cover. I also got 6 sleepers, 5 very sweet onesies, a couple blankets and a little fleece bunting thing that my oldest nephew had but my sister has since gotten rid of – for some reason, I found myself getting almost weepy that I was going to get to put my own baby into something I had lugged my nephew around in. It is really sinking in that there is a baby coming to us.

swamped

Oy! I have been meaning to write more, and there is plenty to write about. Time, however, has been in short supply ’round these parts. I am resorting to bullets to catch you up on the happenings of the past few weeks, and hopefully soon I will get around to writing a few of the deep posts that have been swirling around my head lately. 

• My dad was in the hospital for 8 days because he had one of these. He’s ok, they caught it in time, and they’ve finally sorted out the medication enough that they let him out.  Scary as hell, though, especially since it was his second episode.
• During the time my dad was in the hospital, my mom was struck by a terrible stomach bug, so not only could she not even visit my dad, but she couldn’t even leave the house.  She’s sort of on the mend, but it’s been ugly. 
• My parents live a 3 hour plane trip from me, and I can’t afford to just fly out on short notice. Even though I wanted to, really badly. 
• Between talking to both my parents separately, my sisters and my grandparents who are here in town, I spent a lot of time on the phone over the past week and a half. 
• During that time, I was also putting the finishing touches on the article I was writing and getting it submitted to the editor, working on revamping how our support group works (more on this in a future post), carrying on my yoga and flamenco classes, working, living, AND dealing with the thrice-or-more weekly rehearsals of Manny’s first punk band that is reuniting for a one-time only gig opening for a band they used to play with many, many years ago.  Fortunately, said gig is happening tonight and therefore I will soon get my house and my evenings back. 
• Now, my youngest  sister, who lives at least in the same province but a 2.5 hour drive away, is facing her father in law’s health crisis and the very real possibility of his death within the next few weeks. And I am upset for her and for my brother in law and also, especially, for my sweet 5 year old nephew who has just been starting to have his existential crisis about death and what it means. I am sensitive about this kind of stuff at the best of times, but it’s really hitting me hard at the moment – just feeling helpless and shaken by the closeness of death and wanting to do something to help ease this process for my nephew in particular. But also feeling, because of the events of the past couple weeks, completely drained and exhausted and depleted. 

I think that about covers it. Other things have been going well – we had our 19 week u/s this week and all looks good. The wee bit has turned breech and has been kicking me in the bladder and cervix and other down low things. It feels really, really weird, but every single thump is about the best moment of my life. Physically, I’ve been feeling quite good, and I’m sure if I can just get some good rest and time to really re-connect with myself, I’ll feel better all around. 

Tonight, however, punk rock beckons.

recent conversation

Starting on Monday, I have really been feeling the baby move. I was feeling it last week but it was very faint and usually didn’t last very long, so it was hard to be sure. But Monday was the day when it became clear that there is a human being in my belly. I was talking to my sister last night and asked to talk to my nephew, O, who is 5. Here’s how it went down:

Me: Hi, O! Tantie has something really special to tell you. 

O: What is it?

Me: Remember how I told you I have a baby in my belly?

O: Yes. 

Me: Well, I can feel the baby moving all around now!

O: (Long pause as if he’s thinking of what to say.) Sweet!

 

I can’t believe how great his slang usage is – before we know it, he’ll be swearing like a trucker to make his Tantie and her homegirl, Eden, very proud.