1. I've been epically exhausted lately, overcome with intense fatigue. I've been sleeping during Abigail's nap time and frantically trying to make up work for my Etsy shoppe in the evenings. Not much else is getting done. Thankfully Matt is super understand and Abigail is old enough that she isn't putting the growing collection of dust bunnies in her mouth.
2. This pregnancy has way fewer symptoms than my first, but I'm still really gosh-darn exhausted a lot. I had a two week break when I thought we were done with fatigue, but then it came roaring back. Yesterday we had a respite from the non-stop rain and Matt texted me on his way to the train about how wonderful the weather was. One brief morning of blue skies in the middle of a week living up to its promise to reenact the Great Flood. I wasn't sure we'd make it, but enough guilty glances out the window and I finally worked up the determination to lug a toddler and a stroller down a flight of stairs (my first floor apartment is up a flight of stairs. Go figure) and make it 3 blocks. We then stopped to play at a park and trudge 2 blocks back home. When we got back 45 minutes after we left, I was ready for a nap. But it really was a gorgeous day and totally worth it.
3. I don't know how people do this when they have more than one kid. Maybe their kids are able to walk and feed themselves, though.
4. On Sunday, Matt took Abigail to the back of the church to find some water. As he stood in the narthex (the narthex to a church is as the foyer to a house) waiting for a good time to re-enter Mass, he overheard a couple of moms talking. They each had a child in the 22-25 month age range running around the narthex in true toddler fashion. Abigail will be 23 months tomorrow. And she doesn't run. She doesn't walk. She can barely even stand without holding on to something for more than 5-8 seconds.
Step 1: Let yourself feel the pain. Understand that it will never, ever, ever, ever go away. Maybe even curse at the moms in your head for their pathetic complaints at having energetic children. I wish Abigail climbing on furniture and turning the nursery into a "big girl room" were the bulk of my worries instead of leukemia.
Step 2: Take a deep breath. Recognize that she is alive and that she will one day walk. I heard too many stories about parents who wish they could say that.
Step 3. Be thankful.
5. Someone busted up the washing machine in the community laundry room a little bit ago and robbed it of all its quarters. The washing mechanisms still work but the coin-taking mechanism doesn't, so we're all short a washer now. Over a month ago, the knob on one of the dryers broke off, but it was okay, because it was stuck in the "normal dry" position. Well, some brilliant person turned it to the "delicate" cycle and for the life of me, I can't get the little stub to turn back to "normal." So we're down a dryer too. One washer, one dryer for about 24 apartment, about half of which are 2 bedroom units. It looks like I'm going to have to succumb to the laundry mat on weeks when I wash the sheets and towels. Matt and I talked about it and I think I'd rather sacrifice my Saturday morning to sitting in the laundry mat than dragging a toddler during the week. I'm not happy about it, though.
6. Sauteed peppers, onions, and spinach on my nachos is how I get away with calling them healthy. That and being pregnant is how I justify nachos for dinner.
7. Abigail is really dang cute. Matt and I have started questioning her about taking cute pills because there is no way she can get that much cuter every single day without some type of outside substance. I love, love, love her eyes. Do you see those white specs in her iris? They're called Brushfield spots. They are incredibly rare in typically developing individuals, but very common in those with Down syndrome.
So freakin' pretty.
Alright, my friends, Abigail is napping and I need to get a few more things done before she wakes up. Crossing my fingers that I'll be able to squeeze in a power nap before she wakes up.