Brain Dump

So there are lots of things I have had on my mind this week, and this is the post wherein I empty them all out tumble-bumble, pell-mell, and see where it all lands.

*Begin Dump*

I learned a very important lesson this weekend: I am no good without Lee.

The last few weeks have been crazy for him at work, so I have been what we call OMO [on my own] around here for much of it. By the end of last week, I was so frustrated and stressed, and I couldn’t even really articulate why that was.

By Sunday it had dawned on me. Life just doesn’t work as well when he’s not around. And it’s not about helping with diapers or making breakfast. With Lee around, joy is doubled and problems are halved. Actually, when he’s home, some things that initially seem like problems turn into joys.

Like this: 

This, my friends, is my very first attempt at using the sewing machine that I got for my birthday back in August. In case you can’t tell, it’s a burp cloth. This little bit of sewing took me four hours, one trip to Laura’s house, and several tearful skype calls to my mother. When I finally finished, I took it to show Lee, still sort of sniffling from my last meltdown. And we started laughing. We laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants. And y’all, I’m 32 weeks pregnant. It wasn’t a long shot. I was lucky not to have wet the couch.

But knowing Lee, even if I had wet the couch, we would have laughed about it for the next decade.

So there’s that.

And this: 

Just because it made me laugh.

I’m trying to laugh more at [with?] Mary Bullock.  So much of this new age is not really so funny, you know? The tantrums, the complete lack of rationality [hers and mine, I guess], the defiance– it’s enough to wear anyone out, I think. But at 8+ months pregnant, my funny bone has gone missing. Maybe under mounds of flesh. Who knows? I’m working on finding it.

Speaking of my belly, I don’t have any new pictures. I’ll try to get one soon. I am shocked daily by its mere existence. Every night I look in the mirror while putting on my pjs and say: WHERE DID THIS THING COME FROM? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

And then Lee rolls his eyes. Because we really do have this conversation every night.

The FAQ on the street is What does Mary Bullock think about the new baby?
A: It’s hard to say, really. She has started calling her belly button her baby button. When I ask her if she knows what’s in mommy’s belly, she will sometimes say brover.  Other times she stares at me like I have three heads. Mostly, though, she will point to her own baby button.

When I ask her if she has a baby in there, she says YESSSS.
What are you going to name your new baby brother? I ask.
First it was Caroline.
Then it was Nap.
Then it was Nap Playground [which we loved and have moved to the top of our list].
She came up with something else this week, but I can’t remember what it was.

Lord, I love this baby. And here is my last MB story of the day:

Perhaps you know this already, but MB has gotten a little choosy about her diapers.  Since our latest box had no Big Bird, she prefers the Ernie diapers, which she calls Burp diapers. She knows the difference between Ernie and Bert, but persists in calling them Burp diapers.  Whatever. I’m picking my battles, and anything related to diapers is already a big one.

This morning we were down to the last five diapers in the box. Four Elmos and one Burp. She wanted the Burp [duh]. But then she realized that Violet needed her diaper changed, too.

And here is where you will now melt.

She gave her Burp diaper to Violet. Even after I explained that she would have to wear Elmo if she gave her last Burp diaper to Violet.

Greater love hath no baby.

*End Dump*

Advertisements

One thought on “Brain Dump

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s