I took this photo while we were taking one of our family "nature walks" yesterday evening. The tree in the center looks like a conductor leading the forest in a symphony of nature-y things. See what a way I have with words there? 'Nature-y things.' I am clearly a master wordsmith, plucking word birds from telephone wires and releasing them, like wedding doves, into the air where they wing their way straight for your heart.
I am officially six months pregnant and the tiny babe is suddenly making a move to tear his way out of my belly in his quest for more room. The delicate butterfly flutterings have been replaced with crazed zombie scrabblings from the inside. Elbow thumps, feet bumps and tiny finger clawings. He just now thumped me directly behind the belly button, an exclamation point, if you will.
Would sir care for another mini candy bar from big brother and sister's Halloween stash? We are, unfortunately, out of Almond Joys but I can offer you a Snickers and a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.
He has a name. This is the first child we've called by his name since this early on. The other day Serge even tap-danced into the kitchen holding aloft a FedEx box from which he proudly procured the requisite wooden letters we plan to paint and hang on the wall of the little guy's room.
It's mostly done, the room. Like the insane people we have proven to be we have decided to move Henry into Violet's room and purchase bunk beds because we don't ever want our children to go to bed at a decent hour, apparently. Little Dude will take Henry's room and Serge and I will maintain our separate wings because we are not ready to unite in a bedroom any time soon. Make of that what you will, naysayers. Because I will bray nay right back atcha. I spent my life in my own room aside from that brief roommate thing at the University of Utah and mama likes her own space. Besides, marriage is a cobweb of compromises over money, home, parenting styles, bathroom sharing, remote controlage, angling for The Good Spot on the couch, can I not just have my own room? Is that too much to ask without a bunch of people clucking their tongues? And God, it's good. Especially now.
If you've ever tried to fall asleep while pregnant you know it's a task akin to climbing Mount Everest or some other nearly impossible feat. Unless I have two pillows behind my head, one in my arms, one jammed between my legs, one propping up stomach and one wedged into my back as I attempt to find the sweet spot - not quite on my side, not quite on my back - there will be no rest. For me or anyone daring to cross my path between the hours of 10pm and 7am.
Oh, I almost forgot! Because I've been neglecting you all so terribly lo these past few months I have decided to stop writing at MamaPop so I can devote more time to being here with you, because I am generous like that. Some of us have been gathering here for nearly a decade and it would be a shame to let it all go. But don't give up on MamaPop.com just yet! There is someone there I would like you to meet. Someone who has also been with us for the decade...