Pregnancy update: At 30 weeks, I’m still running. Although it hardly qualifies anymore. I’m also (finally) having Braxton-Hicks. I’ve been wondering when they were going to show up; seems like it came on a lot earlier last time. Not that it matters, as I’m a surgery girl.
It’s also officially impossible to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Perhaps getting up 5-6x a night is why I’m getting another cold, after only ten days’ health. Maybe I’ll get all my sickness out of the way BEFORE baby. Anyone want to place bets?
I dreamed about the baby for the first time this week. Mostly good, with a side of seriously weird at the end.
Alex told Christian this week that “mostly they have good food at school. Not like at home.” Christian thought he was pooh-poohing our lunches, which are admittedly uninspiring, but Alex said, “No, the hot stuff too.” “This,” I said, “from the child who goes to other people’s houses and asks for creme brulee and crab quiche. I think we’re raising a food snob.”
I’ve hit the final ascent to the climax of my novel, and I’m having way too much fun writing it. Not looking forward to having to knuckle under and do some, you know, paid assignments next week.
Can’t stay off the pregnancy. We’re back to Ye Olde Name Game. It gets harder with every baby. I can’t begin to imagine how people who have for-real big families manage to name all their kids!
Sleeping through the night is a myth, and last night was proof. 10:15 and 10:45: Julianna. 12 and 1: Nicholas. 4: Alex. That’s on top of the four round ligament pains, three of which were so excruciating that I had to actually stand up and walk around to ease them. And being awakened at 4a.m.? That’s the end of the night for me. It’s 5:30 a.m. and I’ve already done my morning run.
It has to get better, right?