That it's time to come back.
I miss you gals (and guys).
Bea turned four months today. I think I can swing the time for myself to blog again.
This blog might not be the same. But it's still me. If you can't follow, I understand, but I'll miss you.
Now, reading other blogs. Maybe I'll even have time for that.
There is so much I want to write. About what happened ~10 days postpartum. About life now. About more of my life, not just my grief.
And my grief has changed. A few months into this misadventure, I remember reading that grief lasts two years. I am past that mark - and it is different. Of course, one key thing also changed in the same time period: Bea made it here safely.
Bea, herself, does make me happy. I am happy being a (mostly) full-time mom. I am happy cleaning my house (after I came to the realization last week that I clean my house for me, because no one else seems to notice when it is dirty). I am happy taking walks every morning around 8 with a stroller and a mutt, even when it is 90 pushing 1000 with a relative humidity of 'what the hell are you doing outside in this weather.' I think I may have found my groove (or at least a new groove than the old groove).
So, dear readers, be forewarned: I am back. With my co-author Beanie Bea.
Thursday 28 February 2013
Tuesday 26 February 2013
Sunday 24 February 2013
Thank the light for the WoT
Nope, that not new fan-dangled internet jargon. If you don't speak it, feel free to skip down to the next ***.
I just finished The Gathering Storm. Wow! This is some of the action we should have had in some of those tedious middle books.
I think Brandon Sanderson did an excellent job. I didn't care for the Mat parts in this books as much as I did for some of his other chapters, but then, I can say the same things about Perrin for a couple of books. Perrin was one of my favorite characters until Faile got kidnapped. I couldn't take the moping and lack of leadership. I am not sure that I agree with some of the complaints regarding Sanderson's ability to write Mat. Maybe it was just the time to show Mat as a human, flawed, character, much like Perrin was in Winter's Heart.
I was super scared when Rand seized the 'True' Power'. SUPER SPOILER::: I am glad he cleared his head, heart, and the overcast skies in the end:::.
And Egwene! That girl has got it! This is one of those times that people like to say, 'wow, that lady has some balls' and I like to point out that she has some ovaries. And guts, and backbone, and brains, heart and soul. I think her scenes in this book are among some of the best of the whole series.
That whole 'three shall be one' at the end? Min, Elayne and Avienda????
Now, I have to wait, what, another year?!? Burn Brandon Sanderson and Robert Jordan!!! Burn them!
***
I told Triple S today that I was grateful for these books. They can really distract me from my worries and anxieties. And a character like Egwene can inspire me to persevere, to stand tall, to try.
Over the years that this series has unfolded (years in real time, since I think it has only been about two years in WoT-time), I have enjoyed each of the main characters in this book. At one point I loved Faile, but I don't trust her much sometimes. I am waiting to see how this one unfolds. On the other hand, Min has always been a strong favorite, from her first introduction right up to the end of this last book. At first it was the tomboy in her. She has since then proven to be caring and loyal. Now she is determined to study old texts in order to help figure out what to do at the last battle.
This, in some round about way, brings me to the pregnancy-related news of this post. If how this relates tot he pregnancy is not entirely clear by the end of this post, it should become clear in the next few posts.
We just had the 18 week anatomy scan. Everything looks fine, the quad screen reduced the risk for Down's to about 1 in 500, and we are expecting yet another girl.
I told Triple S that his dudes are duds. I guess he is now Triple XXX.
So, we have always struggled with girl names. We have a boy's name, have always had a boy's name, and would only ever have a problem if we needed two boy names.
It was difficult to develop a short list when we were expecting our first daughter. I can't see any of the names on that short list coming back to us.
I think the cuffs may get rolled up.
And I may be running some names by ya'll. I know it is frivolous, but it gives me both hope and distraction. Especially now that I have to wait yet again for another volume of the WoT.
In them mean time, I am waiting for the library's copy of book two of the Codex Alera by Jim Butcher. If you like WoT and Mistborn, check this one out too.
I just finished The Gathering Storm. Wow! This is some of the action we should have had in some of those tedious middle books.
I think Brandon Sanderson did an excellent job. I didn't care for the Mat parts in this books as much as I did for some of his other chapters, but then, I can say the same things about Perrin for a couple of books. Perrin was one of my favorite characters until Faile got kidnapped. I couldn't take the moping and lack of leadership. I am not sure that I agree with some of the complaints regarding Sanderson's ability to write Mat. Maybe it was just the time to show Mat as a human, flawed, character, much like Perrin was in Winter's Heart.
I was super scared when Rand seized the 'True' Power'. SUPER SPOILER::: I am glad he cleared his head, heart, and the overcast skies in the end:::.
And Egwene! That girl has got it! This is one of those times that people like to say, 'wow, that lady has some balls' and I like to point out that she has some ovaries. And guts, and backbone, and brains, heart and soul. I think her scenes in this book are among some of the best of the whole series.
That whole 'three shall be one' at the end? Min, Elayne and Avienda????
Now, I have to wait, what, another year?!? Burn Brandon Sanderson and Robert Jordan!!! Burn them!
***
I told Triple S today that I was grateful for these books. They can really distract me from my worries and anxieties. And a character like Egwene can inspire me to persevere, to stand tall, to try.
Over the years that this series has unfolded (years in real time, since I think it has only been about two years in WoT-time), I have enjoyed each of the main characters in this book. At one point I loved Faile, but I don't trust her much sometimes. I am waiting to see how this one unfolds. On the other hand, Min has always been a strong favorite, from her first introduction right up to the end of this last book. At first it was the tomboy in her. She has since then proven to be caring and loyal. Now she is determined to study old texts in order to help figure out what to do at the last battle.
This, in some round about way, brings me to the pregnancy-related news of this post. If how this relates tot he pregnancy is not entirely clear by the end of this post, it should become clear in the next few posts.
We just had the 18 week anatomy scan. Everything looks fine, the quad screen reduced the risk for Down's to about 1 in 500, and we are expecting yet another girl.
I told Triple S that his dudes are duds. I guess he is now Triple XXX.
So, we have always struggled with girl names. We have a boy's name, have always had a boy's name, and would only ever have a problem if we needed two boy names.
It was difficult to develop a short list when we were expecting our first daughter. I can't see any of the names on that short list coming back to us.
I think the cuffs may get rolled up.
And I may be running some names by ya'll. I know it is frivolous, but it gives me both hope and distraction. Especially now that I have to wait yet again for another volume of the WoT.
In them mean time, I am waiting for the library's copy of book two of the Codex Alera by Jim Butcher. If you like WoT and Mistborn, check this one out too.
Friday 22 February 2013
Wednesday 20 February 2013
BoW2: Two Spanish short stories and an essay by Albert Einstein
Last week I read two chapters excerpted from a novel and a short story from a compilation published by Dover called "Spanish Short Stories: A Dual Language Book." These are classics, published in Spanish on the left page and an English translation on the right.
The first was two chapters from an anonymously written book called "Lazarillo de Tormes, 1554". It seems in the Dickens-Dostoyevsky vein. Even the English translation is archaic, and the plot/character/setting is also minimalist. If you can get past that, it is a social commentary on the consequences of choices and the inescapability of station or situation. However, after Chapters I and III, I did not feel enough of a connection with Lazarus to read more.
The second story was "The Power of the Blood," 1612, by Miguel de Cervantes, most well-known for writing Don Quixote. In this story, a middle class girl is raped by an aristocratic youth and hides in shame since her honor has been taken from her. She secretly births a son. By chance, the grandfather of her son sees him and cannot get over the resemblance to his own son. Once the aristocratic grandparents learn the truth, they arrange for their son to unknowingly marry his victim. The girl is presented as happy and relieved to 'lawfully' be back in the arms of 'him who was dearer to her than the light of her eyes.'
I was left wondering if the ridiculous hope, happy acceptance and overwrought joy of marriage to her rapist was a sign of the times or the sarchastic commentary by Cervantes on such thinking of the time. Kind of like "The Rape of the Lock" by Alexander Pope?
I asked Triple S about how it read in the Spanish and I got "HUH? I guess what you said" Genius.
I might read more of these short stories during busy weeks.
I also read an essay by Einstein written in 1949, published in an essay collection entitled "Einstein on Humanism," which I borrowed from the library of the Unitarian Universalist church Triple S, Beanie and I have been attending since we moved to the bible belt.
I should transcribed the whole essay, "Why Socialism" here because I can't paraphrase what he said better than he wrote it. It took me a long time to read it because I read many paragraphs repeatedly. He writes about the predatory phase of human development, the contrast between the individual and societal being (and how those interests compete) and the social 'crisis of our time.' Basically, it hasn't gotten much better since 1949. I think Mitt Romney would benefit from reading this essay, and thus I leave you with this quote: "The education of the individual, in addition to promoting his own innate abilities, would attempt to develop in him a sense of responsibility for his fellow men in place of the glorification of power and success in our present society."
The first was two chapters from an anonymously written book called "Lazarillo de Tormes, 1554". It seems in the Dickens-Dostoyevsky vein. Even the English translation is archaic, and the plot/character/setting is also minimalist. If you can get past that, it is a social commentary on the consequences of choices and the inescapability of station or situation. However, after Chapters I and III, I did not feel enough of a connection with Lazarus to read more.
The second story was "The Power of the Blood," 1612, by Miguel de Cervantes, most well-known for writing Don Quixote. In this story, a middle class girl is raped by an aristocratic youth and hides in shame since her honor has been taken from her. She secretly births a son. By chance, the grandfather of her son sees him and cannot get over the resemblance to his own son. Once the aristocratic grandparents learn the truth, they arrange for their son to unknowingly marry his victim. The girl is presented as happy and relieved to 'lawfully' be back in the arms of 'him who was dearer to her than the light of her eyes.'
I was left wondering if the ridiculous hope, happy acceptance and overwrought joy of marriage to her rapist was a sign of the times or the sarchastic commentary by Cervantes on such thinking of the time. Kind of like "The Rape of the Lock" by Alexander Pope?
I asked Triple S about how it read in the Spanish and I got "HUH? I guess what you said" Genius.
I might read more of these short stories during busy weeks.
I also read an essay by Einstein written in 1949, published in an essay collection entitled "Einstein on Humanism," which I borrowed from the library of the Unitarian Universalist church Triple S, Beanie and I have been attending since we moved to the bible belt.
I should transcribed the whole essay, "Why Socialism" here because I can't paraphrase what he said better than he wrote it. It took me a long time to read it because I read many paragraphs repeatedly. He writes about the predatory phase of human development, the contrast between the individual and societal being (and how those interests compete) and the social 'crisis of our time.' Basically, it hasn't gotten much better since 1949. I think Mitt Romney would benefit from reading this essay, and thus I leave you with this quote: "The education of the individual, in addition to promoting his own innate abilities, would attempt to develop in him a sense of responsibility for his fellow men in place of the glorification of power and success in our present society."
Monday 18 February 2013
So far this Blursday
Last night we three had squash french fries for dinner. Yummy.
I peel and cut the squash, rub the slices with a bit of flax and grapeseed oils, and roast them at 375. They get firm enough on the outside that it is not complete mush as Bea consumes them. I also cute small, pea-sized pieces to try to get Bea working on her pincer grip. She doesn't quite have it yet. When she masters it, it will be so much easier to let her feed herself! Right now she milks most of her food in her hand, with very little getting to the mouth.
***
Bea loves guacamole and azheefa. Those with nachos was the first part of my lunch, before trying to nurse her to sleep. Second part of my lunch is so far consisting of an apple with peanut butter and applesauce. Varied it is not. Bea has already scarfed down and or dropped another squash fry. Now she is working on some apple.
***
There's an interesting discussion going on over at Minimalist Mom regarding leaving the career track to stay at home with the kiddos. I think it also encompasses alternative careers. For instance, I don't plan on re-entering the rat race - I have other plans with an entrepreneurial bent!
***
Xinnian Kuai Le! Happy Year of the rabbit.
And that's me, I am a rabbit. It's my year?
It's funny that Bea is a tiger (2010), I am a rabbit (75) and Triple S is a dragon (76). All not supposed to get along. No wonder it's so fiery in this household!
***
Our playdate canceled for today, so we are hibernating for another day! I've got the rest of the living and dining room cleaned (I just need to vacuum and sweep again, since it's been 24 hrs - darn dog). This is maybe the third time I have dusted in here in a year (one of them before Bea was born). And to think, I used to dust all my nicknacks and photos EVERY WEEK! But I feel good getting it a little clean for the new year.
***
Yesterday Bea discovered her own poo. I am actually surprised it took her this long. We have been doing a lazy form of elimination communication. Mostly the communication part doesn't really work for us. But, she usually will poo on the potty. Since she has been eating more solids, they have firmed up a bit. So, she started in her diaper, and I got her to the potty. I ran off to the bathroom to wash out the diaper. Well, since she has been standing up, she has started standing up from the potty. I got back into the nursery in time to see some poo being milked in her hand! I told Triple S last night and he was like "Ew, don't tell me these things". But I thought it was kind of funny. And I *think* I caught her in time... Then we all needed wardrobe changes because I picked her up so quickly that she got me too. Oh, Bea.
Blackmail story for later in life??
I peel and cut the squash, rub the slices with a bit of flax and grapeseed oils, and roast them at 375. They get firm enough on the outside that it is not complete mush as Bea consumes them. I also cute small, pea-sized pieces to try to get Bea working on her pincer grip. She doesn't quite have it yet. When she masters it, it will be so much easier to let her feed herself! Right now she milks most of her food in her hand, with very little getting to the mouth.
***
Bea loves guacamole and azheefa. Those with nachos was the first part of my lunch, before trying to nurse her to sleep. Second part of my lunch is so far consisting of an apple with peanut butter and applesauce. Varied it is not. Bea has already scarfed down and or dropped another squash fry. Now she is working on some apple.
***
There's an interesting discussion going on over at Minimalist Mom regarding leaving the career track to stay at home with the kiddos. I think it also encompasses alternative careers. For instance, I don't plan on re-entering the rat race - I have other plans with an entrepreneurial bent!
***
Xinnian Kuai Le! Happy Year of the rabbit.
And that's me, I am a rabbit. It's my year?
It's funny that Bea is a tiger (2010), I am a rabbit (75) and Triple S is a dragon (76). All not supposed to get along. No wonder it's so fiery in this household!
***
Our playdate canceled for today, so we are hibernating for another day! I've got the rest of the living and dining room cleaned (I just need to vacuum and sweep again, since it's been 24 hrs - darn dog). This is maybe the third time I have dusted in here in a year (one of them before Bea was born). And to think, I used to dust all my nicknacks and photos EVERY WEEK! But I feel good getting it a little clean for the new year.
***
Yesterday Bea discovered her own poo. I am actually surprised it took her this long. We have been doing a lazy form of elimination communication. Mostly the communication part doesn't really work for us. But, she usually will poo on the potty. Since she has been eating more solids, they have firmed up a bit. So, she started in her diaper, and I got her to the potty. I ran off to the bathroom to wash out the diaper. Well, since she has been standing up, she has started standing up from the potty. I got back into the nursery in time to see some poo being milked in her hand! I told Triple S last night and he was like "Ew, don't tell me these things". But I thought it was kind of funny. And I *think* I caught her in time... Then we all needed wardrobe changes because I picked her up so quickly that she got me too. Oh, Bea.
Blackmail story for later in life??
Thursday 14 February 2013
Wonderings
When I am nursing Beanie, and she is all settled down and calm and chugging away, I wonder:
What is she thinking?
Is she thinking of the taste of my milk?
Is she thinking about her day?
Is she thinking about the book I read to her?
Is she even aware of her thoughts?
Maybe one day soon I will be able to ask her these things and she can answer me.
Sorry my posts all seem to be about me nursing, but it is how I spend a significant amount of my day - and one of the only times I have a chance to think!
What is she thinking?
Is she thinking of the taste of my milk?
Is she thinking about her day?
Is she thinking about the book I read to her?
Is she even aware of her thoughts?
Maybe one day soon I will be able to ask her these things and she can answer me.
Sorry my posts all seem to be about me nursing, but it is how I spend a significant amount of my day - and one of the only times I have a chance to think!
Tuesday 12 February 2013
incubating
Ok, it's been more than a month.
I am here. I try to read. Not much to say.
Lots of blog posts in my head that are not getting to the keyboard.
All is going well. This baby seems much more 'assertive' than I remember Serenity being. I feel her kicks and rolls and she moves my tummy. Is this a common thing second time around? Maybe I am just paying more attention; or is it because my muscles are all much more mushy?
Anyway, I just caught up on reading some posts, but I didn't comment too much. I do think of all you ladies quite often, and that gives me strength.
Hope the season is being kind to you...
I am here. I try to read. Not much to say.
Lots of blog posts in my head that are not getting to the keyboard.
All is going well. This baby seems much more 'assertive' than I remember Serenity being. I feel her kicks and rolls and she moves my tummy. Is this a common thing second time around? Maybe I am just paying more attention; or is it because my muscles are all much more mushy?
Anyway, I just caught up on reading some posts, but I didn't comment too much. I do think of all you ladies quite often, and that gives me strength.
Hope the season is being kind to you...
Sunday 10 February 2013
Slash
It's often the little things that hurt.
It's the comment last week from our neighbor, teasing us for not coming to the block party. As she went out the door, jokingly saying "Well, once you have a kid, you won't get any free passes for skipping the block party."
Doesn't she just have it completely backwards?
First of all, dead baby is always a 'free pass' for something we don't want to do. It's not even a pass, and it certainly wasn't free.
Secondly, it's the other kids running around the street - on that one day a year that they are allowed to play in the street - that sends us to our protective shell. Those kids, laughing and giggling, up to way past their bedtimes, all without Serenity. That little toddler that isn't. Like a glass shard through my heart.
Besides, next October, when hope against all hope, beanie is 6 months old, I think we the parents will still be able to decide what to do.
It's the fact that the cat has diarrhea, and Triple S is worried to the point of boiling anger that whatever the cat has got is going to harm beanie. And it is dealing with his temper, and a sick cat, and trying to give said pain-in-the-butt-sick cat any kind of medication, and with Triple S complaining about and oftentimes gagging at the litter box. Like having small pieces of ground glass rubbed into your arm.
It's the jewelry that I have either misplaced, thrown out, or had stolen. Three pieces, my most expensive, that were all wedding gifts. And I haven't called the insurance company, because I don't want to deal with them. I had an apartment robbed (twice) in grad school, and the insurance adjuster basically accused me of selling my own items and then reporting them stolen. And that was with broken windows and police reports. Now, I just have a picture of two of the items that I haven't been able to find since we returned from the wedding in Toronto in July and my word. Another scratch, another irritation, another stress.
It's the blood test that went from a 1:374 risk for Down's due to my age to a 1:324 risk. As the genetic counselor read the results, cheerily saying, "Don't worry, it's not a big change," I wondered if she thinks I am an absolute moron with zero math skills. Sure, there are still 323 babies with 46 chromosomes, and just one with 47, but it's not the same as going from 374 to say, oh, 1000. Another worrisome scratch that saps strength.
I can ignore these cuts and scrapes, push them aside with hope that the quad screen will come back better, that the jewelry will turn up in the weirdest place, that I will at some point come up with a way to articulate the hurt I feel from dumb witticisms, that the cat will either get better or croak. However, eventually, these metaphysical injuries coalesce into something that needs to get out, to be released. To be washed away with tears.
It's the comment last week from our neighbor, teasing us for not coming to the block party. As she went out the door, jokingly saying "Well, once you have a kid, you won't get any free passes for skipping the block party."
Doesn't she just have it completely backwards?
First of all, dead baby is always a 'free pass' for something we don't want to do. It's not even a pass, and it certainly wasn't free.
Secondly, it's the other kids running around the street - on that one day a year that they are allowed to play in the street - that sends us to our protective shell. Those kids, laughing and giggling, up to way past their bedtimes, all without Serenity. That little toddler that isn't. Like a glass shard through my heart.
Besides, next October, when hope against all hope, beanie is 6 months old, I think we the parents will still be able to decide what to do.
It's the fact that the cat has diarrhea, and Triple S is worried to the point of boiling anger that whatever the cat has got is going to harm beanie. And it is dealing with his temper, and a sick cat, and trying to give said pain-in-the-butt-sick cat any kind of medication, and with Triple S complaining about and oftentimes gagging at the litter box. Like having small pieces of ground glass rubbed into your arm.
It's the jewelry that I have either misplaced, thrown out, or had stolen. Three pieces, my most expensive, that were all wedding gifts. And I haven't called the insurance company, because I don't want to deal with them. I had an apartment robbed (twice) in grad school, and the insurance adjuster basically accused me of selling my own items and then reporting them stolen. And that was with broken windows and police reports. Now, I just have a picture of two of the items that I haven't been able to find since we returned from the wedding in Toronto in July and my word. Another scratch, another irritation, another stress.
It's the blood test that went from a 1:374 risk for Down's due to my age to a 1:324 risk. As the genetic counselor read the results, cheerily saying, "Don't worry, it's not a big change," I wondered if she thinks I am an absolute moron with zero math skills. Sure, there are still 323 babies with 46 chromosomes, and just one with 47, but it's not the same as going from 374 to say, oh, 1000. Another worrisome scratch that saps strength.
I can ignore these cuts and scrapes, push them aside with hope that the quad screen will come back better, that the jewelry will turn up in the weirdest place, that I will at some point come up with a way to articulate the hurt I feel from dumb witticisms, that the cat will either get better or croak. However, eventually, these metaphysical injuries coalesce into something that needs to get out, to be released. To be washed away with tears.
Wednesday 6 February 2013
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Sunday 3 February 2013
It is snowing
It is snowing - these big, clunky, slow-falling snowflakes. I think it is a good excuse not to go to the gym. Oh, but I should go to the gym. Maybe later.
I haven't been posting much. I don't know why. I feel less dependent on extracting negative emotions. Was I co-dependent on my blog and my commentors before??
Sometimes I wonder if Triple S and I are codependent. Ok, I have never really understood this term, but Triple S and I like to be together. We like to be around each other. We often talk around lunch time. Well, if it is a psychaological problem, too bad, I like it.
The funny thing is how Triple S reacts to his Saturdays lately. For five years, he worked most Saturdays, at least through noon, sometimes until 3, at the lab. Since I was no longer in grad school, I was rather enjoying NOT working on Saturdays (and most Sunday mornings for that matter). I putzed around the house, cleaned, did laundry, gardened, etc. Basically, most of the house chores that nobody had time to do through the week (considering I usually didn't get home from work until after 7!). On those rare Saturdays when Triple S would stay home, he mostly disrupted my routine and kinda drove me crazy.
Since Triple S started his new fellowship, he doesn't work Saturdays anymore, although sometiems he studies at home. But, now I work on Saturdays (ah, the price you pay to work just two days a week). Recently, he has been getting a bit mopey about Saturday. He usually has a list of chores, goes to the gym, watches soccer (while folding laundry - that's the deal around here!), and generally has what I would think is a perfectly fine putzy kinda lazy Saturday.
See, this is why I wonder if we are totally too dependent on each other.
I am home alone four days a week. And I love it. I work (I really try to work about two to four hours a day when I have projects in). If I don't have a freelance job, I bake, clean the house, sew, scrapbook (for the winter at least - it's all about gardening in the summer), read a book, go to the gym, run errands. Sometimes I do get bored. About 3 in the afternoon, I am ready for Triple S to come home. I don't cry like I used to. I think the pregnancy hormones are having a great effect on me in that regard. And, at nearly two years since Serenity's death, I think the greif has relaxed its grip on me.
A friend recently asked me what I do all day (she being a scientist who still works 7 days a week, albeit at home on the weekends - working no manuscripts, even finishing up a manuscript while visiting family for Christmas). Triple S quickly jumped in with a "She is being pregnant." That's what he sees as my full time job.
And I can't wait for Beanie to be here and take up all my time! I hope to keep my two-days-a-week job, and keep my freelancing going at about the current rate. But I also want my chance to spoil this little girl to pieces.
About two weeks ago, I got my scrapbooking stuff back out. I want to work on Beanie's scrapbook - we've certainly got enough ultrasound pictures to fill-up several pages; although we haven't been taking so many shiny-happy belly shots (That mostly having to do with me looking more fat and less pregnant - that should be changing over soon).
I also got out the scrapbook I started for Serenity. It's got pictures shoved into each page, but I didn't get past making the 2nd and 3rd pages. I want to now. I think I can now. So, I will work on these two books concurrently, although the events in them are a lifetime apart yet so very much intertwined.
And, with today's schedule, I have time to look out my window, watching the snow and the little birds at my mother's day-present bird feeder, to feel the myriad emotions that drift through me, to breathe deeply and calmly, to feel the bean kick and squirm. I have time to just be.
I haven't been posting much. I don't know why. I feel less dependent on extracting negative emotions. Was I co-dependent on my blog and my commentors before??
Sometimes I wonder if Triple S and I are codependent. Ok, I have never really understood this term, but Triple S and I like to be together. We like to be around each other. We often talk around lunch time. Well, if it is a psychaological problem, too bad, I like it.
The funny thing is how Triple S reacts to his Saturdays lately. For five years, he worked most Saturdays, at least through noon, sometimes until 3, at the lab. Since I was no longer in grad school, I was rather enjoying NOT working on Saturdays (and most Sunday mornings for that matter). I putzed around the house, cleaned, did laundry, gardened, etc. Basically, most of the house chores that nobody had time to do through the week (considering I usually didn't get home from work until after 7!). On those rare Saturdays when Triple S would stay home, he mostly disrupted my routine and kinda drove me crazy.
Since Triple S started his new fellowship, he doesn't work Saturdays anymore, although sometiems he studies at home. But, now I work on Saturdays (ah, the price you pay to work just two days a week). Recently, he has been getting a bit mopey about Saturday. He usually has a list of chores, goes to the gym, watches soccer (while folding laundry - that's the deal around here!), and generally has what I would think is a perfectly fine putzy kinda lazy Saturday.
See, this is why I wonder if we are totally too dependent on each other.
I am home alone four days a week. And I love it. I work (I really try to work about two to four hours a day when I have projects in). If I don't have a freelance job, I bake, clean the house, sew, scrapbook (for the winter at least - it's all about gardening in the summer), read a book, go to the gym, run errands. Sometimes I do get bored. About 3 in the afternoon, I am ready for Triple S to come home. I don't cry like I used to. I think the pregnancy hormones are having a great effect on me in that regard. And, at nearly two years since Serenity's death, I think the greif has relaxed its grip on me.
A friend recently asked me what I do all day (she being a scientist who still works 7 days a week, albeit at home on the weekends - working no manuscripts, even finishing up a manuscript while visiting family for Christmas). Triple S quickly jumped in with a "She is being pregnant." That's what he sees as my full time job.
And I can't wait for Beanie to be here and take up all my time! I hope to keep my two-days-a-week job, and keep my freelancing going at about the current rate. But I also want my chance to spoil this little girl to pieces.
About two weeks ago, I got my scrapbooking stuff back out. I want to work on Beanie's scrapbook - we've certainly got enough ultrasound pictures to fill-up several pages; although we haven't been taking so many shiny-happy belly shots (That mostly having to do with me looking more fat and less pregnant - that should be changing over soon).
I also got out the scrapbook I started for Serenity. It's got pictures shoved into each page, but I didn't get past making the 2nd and 3rd pages. I want to now. I think I can now. So, I will work on these two books concurrently, although the events in them are a lifetime apart yet so very much intertwined.
And, with today's schedule, I have time to look out my window, watching the snow and the little birds at my mother's day-present bird feeder, to feel the myriad emotions that drift through me, to breathe deeply and calmly, to feel the bean kick and squirm. I have time to just be.
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