Monday notes

Some notes on this Monday:

• I have reached the point in the pregnancy where nothing is comfortable and everything hurts and is hard. I find it ridiculous that this point comes WEEKS before a baby should be born, instead of in the last week. Seriously - who thought up this timing???
• The girls and I are still in our pyjamas. Last night may have been a record of no sleep with no visits from babies. I was kept up by needing to pee, being too hot, and having horrible dreams. Pregnancy dreams are SO vivid, so the bad ones are even WORSE than if you had them when you weren't pregnant.
• I think lunch is my least favourite meal of the day. It takes a bit to figure out what to make, then to make it (especially with my giant belly), then to get the girls to the table, then to settle them down to pray, then to eat...which takes me no time, but could take them EONS. How long does it take to eat a sandwich?? Too long if you're 2 and 4.
• Sophie starts school soon. We're having a baby soon. And yet nothing is in place for these things to happen. I'm trying to not to panic, but then I get tired and nap and then I wake up and realize that I accomplished nothing but avoiding panic. On the list of things still to do: get a 2-compartment lunch bag for Sophie (schools here have two 'nutrition breaks' instead of the usual one lunch, so you have to essentially pack two different lunches); a first-day outfit; a come-home-from-the-hospital outfit for baby; get Soph's backpack ready; get the hospital bag ready; buy tiny diapers; buy labels for all of Sophie's stuff; put the nursery together; bring up and dust the bassinette; and nap. Seems doable, right? OI.
• I'm so blessed that my girls are okay with a lazy mama this summer. Usually we'd be at the park every day; some days the park AND the library; and even some days the park, the library, AND have a picnic! This summer has been lots of movies, and lounging, and taking advantage of our tiny postage-stamp-sized backyard where the coolest thing to do is dig in the dirt. They haven't launched a full-scale mutiny, yet I still feel like I'm failing them somehow.
• We don't know if we're having a boy or a girl...all we know is it's a human baby. Some people congratulate me on this decision; others are annoyed that we didn't find out. It's funny that it's so polarizing. Did you find out what you were having? Why or why not? With our first, Sophie, we totally decided not to so we could enjoy the surprise. With Lillian, our second, we tried, but she wouldn't give it up! With Charlie, our baby in heaven, we never found out or decided either way because there was no time - they were gone by 11 weeks. And with this one? It's our last. We're all done after this. So why not keep with tradition, not find out, and enjoy this one last surprise until the very end.

Fireman-ballerina

My mother-in-law (really, my second mother) often tells the story of my gorgeous sister-in-law Kim(really, my fourth sister) trying to decide what she wanted to be when she grew up. She couldn't just pick one thing, and that's where the term 'fireman-ballerina' came from - wanting to be everything, deciding on nothing.

I've quit Avon and today is my first Avon-free day. I've spent some time thinking about what I wanted to be now that I'm not selling lipstick and bubble bath or answering zillions of website questions.

Obviously, I want to write more. My brain is happiest writing - words, descriptions, characters, and details make up the narrative in my head all day long.

I want to blog more. This place is my place and I want to share more of me with you. I want this to be a consistent part of my life.

I want to make more homemade gifts. Preserves, cookies, treats, homemade meals. Crocheted baby blankets, booties, hats, and dishcloths for the newly married. I want the cards that go with the gifts to be equally as beautiful, with delicate ribbons, stamps and punched-out paper. I want to be crafty. I want to crochet. I want to knit. I want to be Martha Stewart without the jail time and creepy calm voice.

I want to be the best mother ever. I want to spend quality time with my girls, helping them play and make memories. I want to have energy and patience for their antics and growth. I want to yell less and turn the tv off more.

I want to be a good friend and wife. Be there for those who need me, go the distance, talk for hours, be intimate in shared details and the mopping of tears.

I want to be a better housekeeper, where my house may not be clean, but tidy, not perfect, but not one step from a hoarders episode.

I want to read book after book after book, filling my head with other's art and stories, examining craft and stealing away to other places far from my reality.

I want to run. I can't right now because of my giant belly, fear, and cramping, but I want to in the future. I want to commit and be a runner for the rest of my life. I want my girls to look at me and know that being fit is a lifestyle, not a self-esteem barragement where one is simply trying to fix a finite problem. I want them to be inspired to be healthy and take care of themselves.

In short, I want to be a fireman-ballerina, jack of all trades, master of none, complete with time off for rest, naps, and having this baby.

Not too much to aspire to, right?