Fasten your seatbelts, I'm feeling chatty . . .
I've been told not to upload photos or anything, as Kit is currently in the throes of an online ass-kicking with Mike, I think they're playing Half Life?? I cannot risk slowing down our internet connection, horrors! I'm at a loss for giving a poop about these online death games. If it gives the man a chance to let his brain run loose, fine by me. I know he'll kick butt too, and that's always sexy. His handle is Mr. Snuggles.
Ivy is presently passed out in what is possibly the world's biggest stroller. Okay it's a pram from the UK, wicker no less. Hey, if it's my last baby, I can buy whatever I darn well want okay?!!! This thing is a monster though. Add to it the antique crib I found at the side of the road, and the $10 change table I picked up, and our house is suddenly cluttered. The me of 6 years ago, who'd not let having a child change our lives or decor, well, she'd shudder. But she'd also be jealous. A wicker pram, come on! It is too cool! If only there was no snow I could actually use the dang thing. Oh right, I'm not supposed to be walking.
That brings me to THE BIG DAY! Yes, tomorrow, Wednesday, is the big day. The day I take myself for a wee walk, to test the body and train it up to a regular level of activity. Up until I've been berthed up on our sofa, not getting up to do anything other than eat, pee and toss in a load of laundry. (Okay truth be told I took Leif to a movie on his birthday yesterday, and it was a hugely bad idea. But I felt so crappy about his birthday (more on this later), I wanted to do SOMETHING. It was not the right something, and I hustled my body home to return to my sofa perch. If you have a chance to see Happy Feet, save your money and bu a CD instead, or a coffee and muffin. That movie stank. But don't tell my midwife I went anywhere, she'd flip!). So I'm planning to walk the 6 blocks to my pal Erin's house, have a visit and then walk home. It is the training for the next BIG DAY, which is friday when I aim to walk to Family Storytime at the library, a distance of possibly 15 blocks one way. I hope one day of rest in between is enough. I cannot take much more 'bedrest'. My body is lighter and free-of-cumbersome-belly, I want to get out and take long strides. BUt I will bide my time, just take baby steps for now.
Speaking of birthdays, I seem to have lost all ability to remember anyone's. I used to be the type who had it all figured out a month ahead, had a hand-made gift all ready, always remembered to call and sing . . . now I am pathetic. I sent a friend a little gift thing, just for fun, in October, and she remarked 'is this for my birthday?". Her birthday was in July. Another friend wondered if I'd possibly died or taken gravely ill, as she'd turned 30, a big year, and not heard from me for A MONTH! And there's a huge list of people whom I've shunned in this way, even my brother! None of it is intentional, and I can't seem to fix it. I write it down, I tell myself to remember . . . and I can manage it until about a week before the event, and then Poof! The entire idea just leaves my head and I never remember until at least a month later. A woman I know has the right idea I think. She has a big party each January, for all her friends, and treats it as a big group party for all their birthdays. Cause she knows she'll forget them during the year. This holds appeal for me. I'm thinking an annual backyard martini picnic is in order, to cover all my bases throughout the year. I've forgotten too many too often to be forgiven anymore.
Ivy is not yet a week old, but I feel my old self returning, in the form of She Who Makes Lists To Cope. Faced with a body in need of fitness, 3 kids needing transport to various classes with varied gear, a new year of homeschooling starting up, to be juggled with running the house as usual, I'm finding myself composing lists in my head to write down later. Lists like 'healthy snacks' and 'minimal chores, and how to do them while teaching Leif about space: Sub-titled don't forget Hannah is showing phonics-readiness signs, must address this!' and the ever-popular 'places we can walk to, which means less messing with car seats'. My friend Sarah thinks we moms find some solace in these lists, as though if we just organise our time, we will find inner peace amidst the chaos. Kit recommends self-medication instead.
On that note, I shall drag myself to bed. Ivy's expressing a liking for waking up to party and kvetch at 3am and dragging it out until 4:30. I'm not going to let her get too cozy with that idea, so must rally my strength ahead of time and be rested enough to cajole her back to sleep in the wee hours. Wish me luck.
kisses
Big Mama
1 comment:
Ah, Mama you're killing me. Poor old Leif-- part of the trials and tribulations of being 6, having a birthday (I think the first time I didn't cry on a birthday was when I hit 22 or so)and having a new sister. Along with all of that are the raging hormones of Mama.
Better for the guy to learn about disappointment at age 6 rather than in university, non?
big love.
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