Not, however, as chaotic as FOUR little boys for a party will be next weekend. Particularly since our choice of party activity was to buy a hot wheels car track and, as party favours, a car for each boy. In a two bedroom and tiny townhouse. Where we will be the only adults (four, apparently, being the magic "drop and go" age.)
Yes, as a matter of fact we *ARE* insane. Why do you ask?
I'm seven months pregnant, slow and tired. I wake up each morning between 2:30 (bad night) and 5 (reasonably good night). Every week or so I get to sleep until 7am. This is all my own doing, I might add -- the child is sleeping rather well. I'm not sure why I'm waking -- my body is preparing me for severe sleep deprivation / the baby is trying to communicate with me / I have no time to mentally prepare for birth so my brain is taking time each morning to force me to do so. Who knows. All I know is that by 8pm I can barely keep my eyes open. Who knows what's up with my circadian rhythms.
This week I don't get to work at home, because I'm interviewing three people for my replacement. I'm nervous about it -- it matters to me who comes in and sits in my chair for a year. I want someone good (but not too good, of course!). I want to feel like things are taken care of. And I want it all done before I go.
The doula came yesterday to discuss the birth. We paid her a deposit, talked about how things might go. Ideally. Talked about my likes and dislikes; discussed how last time I went from no contractions to 10cm and effaced in just less than three hours. Her eyebrows rose. "I never say this to people," she says, "But I think it the contractions start coming like they did last time, don't even bother trying to labour at home for a while. Just start making for the hospital." I nod. "Unless you *want* to have the baby at home." she adds. We don't. It wouldn't be the end of the world; we're ten minutes from the best birthing hospital in the province. Still. Last time there were complications of unknown origin, and without knowing the origin I'm unsure I want to take the chance of them happening again, far from high tech medical help.
Our neighbours met us outside yesterday. Their son is now 14 or 15 months, and they've offered us the use of their bucket seat and bassinet, which we've gratefully accepted. The Boy will outgrow his car seat in about six months, and we can move the baby into it (it's certified for 8+ pounds) so we seamlessly move from one to another with precious little expense. It's a win win situation
The baby doesn't move that much. Oh, more than enough to meet minimum standards, but not as much as I remember The Boy moving. Whole hours go by without a peep from the kid. Which is not surprising given that babies in utero sleep 20 hours in every 24, and judging from the party that was happening at 5am this morning, most of this kid's awake time is when I'm not.
But the result is that while I'm tired and heaving around an extra 25 pounds, and we're preparing a doula and my job is being replaced and we're arranging a car seat ... I still have some occasions when I forget that I'm pregnant. I vaguely think to myself that I should get some clothes out and start re-arranging the furniture in The Boy's room. We need diapers and stuff for me for when I come from hospital, and some sort of more permanent sleeping arrangement for the baby ... not much, really. I suppose. But I can't bring myself to do it. It's so far off, isn't it? I'm only 32 weeks! That's five whole weeks at least!
Yeah. No problem.
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