And now I am blogging at 3:10 in the afternoon, sitting outside on my back steps, while my kids run around in the yard away from the television. Can I just say that it takes a lot of
And the joke is really on me, because I read once that breast fed babies are such good eaters because they get used to different flavors. Think again; John breast fed for 15 months vs. Ada's 5 months, and, well, you know the rest of the story.
I just found out today that we are moving in three weeks, instead of four. Yay. Yikes. Can we do it? On the one hand, I am so ready to just get it done. I hate in between phases like this. Like, can I snap my fingers and just be there? My pregnant self is very, very, very, ready to have the freedom to send the kids out the back door to play with no worries about if they are okay. For all of our sakes, they need to be outside more (which is why I am sitting here right now), so I am living for that. But, we will be sad to say good-bye to our little house. We have made good memories here. It has been home. I hope it goes to a good renter who will take care of it and love it with all of its quirks and idiosyncrasies.
And packing. Oh my word I hate it. And I am trying to resist my tendency to freeze in these situations and, instead, just jump in and get it done. So far I am mostly frozen. Where do I start? What do I do? In the mean time, I am also planning for this new tutoring job, and Ada is supposed to start first grade and I am the teacher, and I am staring third trimester in the face. It's not good when I am looking forward to Evie's birth because life will calm down then--ha!!
But these are all good things that are happening. I have lived many a year when the stresses in life didn't feel good at all. All of these stresses--a bigger house, a new tutoring job, a new baby added to our family, for crying out loud--these are wonderful gifts, but I am feeling tired. And I am so hormonal. Lately, without warning, I just start crying. It's the most stereotypical pregnant thing I do right now. I cry and don't even know why I am crying. I am horrified that it's going to happen in a very public situation. Hopefully not. Maybe if it does, everyone will realize it's the pregnancy, and that I really am normal.
This post apparently has no point. But, I need for this blog to be my journal again. I have said it again and again, but I want to record our family's history, and this summer at this moment, this is our history. It feels so big right now, all that is going on, but it will be a blink in the whole scheme of our life. We will say, "Remember that summer when I was so pregnant and we were so happy to be moving into that new rental house?" It's another line in this marriage, this family, this record that will play of Ada and John's childhood. Except that they won't even remember. So, I write it down. And then they will remember through me.
The summer before there were three.