I love to drink my Sunday morning coffee in my Joshua Tree mug. I don’t drink coffee every day, although my obstetrician assures me it’s perfectly safe. I’m going to need the jolt of daily caffeine badly enough in July when I have a newborn and a two year-old. I look forward to Sunday coffee all week.
Today, I feel lighter and happier. Yesterday, Odie and I got rid of a bunch of stuff and gave it to Goodwill. This is not an easy sell to Odie. He is a hoarder and I am a purger. I think you need one of each in a marriage, else you end up either living in a tent on government land, or starring in a show on TLC. And not in a good way. There was a time when we probably could have taken a bad turn and become one of those couples with cats up to our armpits, but thank God we adopted The Orange One. She is so stinky, poorly behaved, badly groomed, and just plain irritating, that neither of us ever wants another cat after her. Ever. My cat, The Gray One, is a proper cat. She is scornful, aloof, greedy, stealthy, sleek and beautiful. The only time she will cuddle up to you is if she is cold and you are warm. She might give your lower legs a rub if you are standing in the kitchen and she feels her food isn’t quite fresh enough. But it is understood that this is a transaction, not a relationship.
As I watch my daughter stir on the video baby monitor (and kick my husband vigorously about the head, neck and shoulders – poor Odie), I realize my stolen morning blog time is coming to an end. Sigh.
I feel spring coming, as we spring forward today. The squirrels are active in our front yard, digging up the nuts they buried last fall, munching them and discarding the empty shells on our decks. Pigs. I imagine soon, the pair of birds that nests above our porch light every summer will soon start swooping under our eaves. And driving both cats crazy with murderous rage.
And if everything goes well, summer will bring not only a much-needed vacation (because we greedy, filthy-rich teachers have summers off to spend on our yachts), but a brand new baby girl. I still can’t believe it sometimes. I feel her growing and stretching my body. She is head-down, according to my latest ultrasound, and it feels like she fluffs my bladder like a feather pillow. I don’t want this pregnancy to go quickly like I did last time. I know what’s on the other end. When V was born, I was so exhausted and whacked out on hormones, I cried for my pregnancy. When she was inside, she was so safe and well cared for. And although I was uncomfortable, I got SOME sleep. A run to the grocery store was the easiest thing in the world compared to what it became with an infant and postpartum back pain (not to mention my recently stitched girl parts). Plus, I know Pringles will be my last baby. This is the final time I will be pregnant, so I don’t have any desire to have it over forever.
And then I sneeze and pee my pants, and think, okay, maybe a little.