As previous posts suggest, Wednesday was not a fantastic day for me.
I can't help but to wonder if I brought some of the misery upon myself by "overdoing" the weekend (gasp! I actually attended a barbeque, helped clean the house, and hauled crap off to Goodwill!)
Tuesday was rough at work (nausuea. backaches, exhaustion) but I stuck it out like a trooper. My prize at the bottom 'o the cereal box? When I got home, I was THRILLED to see a huge diaper box waiting on the front porch for me!
My brother-in-law (Mr. Hubby's side) and sister-in-law packed it full of the most awesome hand-me-down harvest of pregnancy books, infant clothes, accessories, and toys I could imagine. I’ve had so much fun unpacking and repacking that box – I’m determined to put fresh shelf paper in “the kid’s” dresser before filling it with goodies. I presented one of the tiny onesies to Suki (my 2yo 15lb Japanese Chin/Beagle mix) for a sniff-test and she had never looked more puzzled by anything in her life. I’m hiding all the booties away ‘till there are tiny human feet to occupy them, for fear they turn into pet toys, and because I’m very very tempted to put them on Suki and watch her march around looking bewildered by her own paws. Oooooh, having typed that, I wonder if any of the baby clothes I have now would fit my cats?
Later Tuesday evening I attending a rollergirl’s 40th birthday party; her husband rented the entire rink so every person there was a birthday guest. It was very very strange for me to see how much my teammates have improved - time didn't stop without me? And even stranger was not skating myself - both my regular doctor and my midwife are against me rollerskating for fear I take a hard fall. . . my "but I'm trained to fall properly!" argument is received by deaf ears. I figure if I'm not going to allow myself something as probably harmelss as Diet Coke, I really should stick to the whole "no skating allowed" gig. I actually managed to not be jealous of their mobility (perhaps I was afraid I had forgotton how to skate?) and I cheered people on instead.
I had a good time catching up with many people for the first time in 10 weeks, and may let myself get roped into becoming a “volunteer coordinator” for our local bouts. I'm just afraid of succumbing to "helium hand" (over willingness to volunteer for tasks) then find that I'm too sick and tired to do a decent job. At minimum, I think my derby team needs a visibly pregnany cheerleader to waddle around for drama's sake.
The only minor bump in the evening was that out of the blue, one of my teammates said "whatever you do, if it's a girl, don't name it XXXXXXX". I was perplexed because I had no recollection of telling her that was #1 on my girl-name list. She went on to say, "My sister-in-law named her girl XXXXXXX, and since it is one of the most popular baby girl names I'm just sure she's going to be completely confused once she hits pre-school . . ." I responded by blushing and stuttering something along the lines of XXXXXXX being one of my top-five names. Just a few moments before, another rollergirl did a really bad job of hiding absolute confusion at my #1 boy-name. So I'm thinking it'd be a good idea for me to shut the hell up about what I may or may not name this spawn?
Forgetting that I am indeed quite pregnant and now a giant wuss, I made the horrific mistake of not leaving the party until 9 getting to sleep until 11 “on a school night” which surely contributed to my hideous Wednesday. Shame on me for attempting such badassitude. :)