Sam’s got a thing for infomercials. Actually, Sam’s got a thing for his Daddy – and Marc is amused by Vince, the spokesman for the Slap Chop and the Sham Wow. My mother got the slap chop and my sister got the sham wow, and they were both so charmed by Sam’s obvious joy in these products that they promptly handed them over for him to take home. Not that we let him HAVE the slap chop – but he does help me use it :-). Anyway, today, he came into the dining room and said “Mommy, where be the sham wow?” I handed it to him, and he walked away from me muttering “I tink dis’ll come in handy.” He’s so funny – and luckily adorable enough so that when I discovered that it actually came in handy because he had upended a glass of chocolate milk all over the floor, all I did was agree that the sham wow really was a handy thing to have around ;-).
Waiting for the girls to come home, and thankfully the heat just turned on – which helped my bread rise. I’m making a big Shabbat dinner tonight – and my goal is to actually have it ready and waiting for when Marc gets home from work. For the past couple of months, poor Marc has been coming home and having to assemble the whole thing – I get all the food mostly ready and then collapse on the couch, too tired and too sick to finish. My goal tonight? Table set, candles ready to be lit, food on the table waiting.
12 WEEKS TODAY. Very happy about that. I feel like now that I’ve reached 12 weeks, I’m safe. And I feel better – not great, not 100%, and definitely still pregnant, but in between the nausea and the fatigue, there are little burts of energy. Occasionally, I’m even productive – for example, yesterday, I vacuumed. Folded laundry, even. House is still in shambles most of the time, and that’s troubling to me – but it’s getting better. And the second trimester – that’s my favorite. Actually, the third is really my favorite – when I’m all big and the baby’s kicking away and I’m getting everything ready and so excited…
Starting to panic a little bit about bringing a baby home – wondering how Sam’s going to make it while I’m in the hospital. I LOVE being in the hospital – which I know puts me in a minority of pregnant women. But what’s not to love? Nurses on call, qualified to watch your baby while you sleep, they bring you food, people come visit and hang out, and I get to laze in bed and adore the new baby. Everything’s right there, everyone’s ready to help – I don’t have to break up fights, or pick up toys – I just get to be Mommy of this tiny little baby. It’s great. And I’m telling myself that Jess was FINE while I was in the hospital, and Sam’ll actually be about three months older than she was, and he’ll be fine too. But hey, I’ve got another 28 weeks to freak about it – no need to do it all right now š
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