![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Apr. 17th, 2007 08:39 pmI'm at that special point in pregnancy...the one where you figure you should just put all the useless, irrelevant baby stuff that will never be used on ebay so that you can afford all the maternity clothes you're going to need to buy to last you for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.
#*$&)(*^@#*&^!!!!!!!11!!!!1!
Alright. Got that out of my system.
Today we had an interesting little blast of "normal life". Grant went to the Boston recruiting office of a company that wants him to do something part time on an ongoing basis, back in Homestead. So he got showered and shaved and put on business attire for the first time since we arrived, and left for a couple of hours, and I put Isaac and Jake down for real (not in the van) naps and did schoolwork with A and A, and cleaned the kitchen.
When he got back, we all went over to Jamaica Plain and got some ingredients from a spanish market and browsed a yarn store (even though we can't really afford anything right now...maybe in a couple of days, depending on who does or doesn't pay G). And got more quarters, which I think bring us to $60 spent on laundry this month, so far. I want to say I'm never going to complain about laundry again once I get home, but, well...
I am feeling the strain of no childcare options very acutely. We very rarely leave them with anyone, anyway, but at home we at least have a good trusted church nursery for Sunday mornings, Grant's mom for the occassional afternoon with some/all of them, and my sister available in case of emergencies. And anytime I've been at the end of a pregnancy in the past, my mother has been around to help out. I really, really, REALLY MISS MY MOM. It's almost retarded. I was distancing myself from her a little, for the past couple of months, because she's typically been really nervous and scared and negative about birth, but it's like since I got here and took hypnobirthing and spent countless hours with Nancy and talked with many other natural types who are either pregnant or recently were, and generally worked through my fears...I don't know, I just don't feel vulnerable to the "worried energy" the way I did before. I have a confidence that isn't so flimsy and fragile. I also had a moment of absolute panic earlier when I realized that if I did for some freak reason have to transfer...I'd have to do it without Grant. That had never occured to me, and as I said I don't think it's likely or anything. But wow, WOW would that suck. And my mom would make the kids and hence us feel so much better, as childcare, than some stranger watching them during birth (Nancy's partner's daughter, to be exact) and then in the days after birth she could take them out sometimes, or Grant could and I wouldn't be alone...blah. I've been seriously considering calling her and proverbially throwing myself down at her feet and begging her to come. The idea of my sister or my mom and brother showing up here in the cold weirdness makes me almost cry it's so awesome. I would cry, if I wasn't trying so hard not to.
I've decided I'm some kind of insanely spoiled, greedy person, environment-wise. People all over the world are used to experiencing seasons and appreciating the Spring because it follows a long winter. They're used to months of every year being gray and wet and dim. It's like the fast before the feast, and the world moves in this cyclical way that I never REALLY understood before, that is a metaphor for life in general on a large and small scale. I've been in the feast since I was born, and never dealt with anything like this, and I absolutely hate it. I thought I liked cold - and I do; I love 50 degree weather that allows you to finally wear the cool jacket you bought a year before. I thought I liked rain - and I do: I love warm rain with rays of light shining through it, and I like cool refreshing rain on days that are way too hot. But this? BAH! I sudddenly understand what I've always seen as silly ass filler type desktops that are pictures of tropical beaches. I have this candle that I brought with us along with several others, someone gave it to us and it seemed dumb to me - it's a green votive with a palm tree made of beads wrapped around it. Now it seems like a little piece of home when I light it. I guess I've lived my whole life to the tune of songs like "Endless summer" and "permanent vacation" and didn't even realize I was in a postcard the whole time.
Aaaaaaaaanyway. That's doins.
#*$&)(*^@#*&^!!!!!!!11!!!!1!
Alright. Got that out of my system.
Today we had an interesting little blast of "normal life". Grant went to the Boston recruiting office of a company that wants him to do something part time on an ongoing basis, back in Homestead. So he got showered and shaved and put on business attire for the first time since we arrived, and left for a couple of hours, and I put Isaac and Jake down for real (not in the van) naps and did schoolwork with A and A, and cleaned the kitchen.
When he got back, we all went over to Jamaica Plain and got some ingredients from a spanish market and browsed a yarn store (even though we can't really afford anything right now...maybe in a couple of days, depending on who does or doesn't pay G). And got more quarters, which I think bring us to $60 spent on laundry this month, so far. I want to say I'm never going to complain about laundry again once I get home, but, well...
I am feeling the strain of no childcare options very acutely. We very rarely leave them with anyone, anyway, but at home we at least have a good trusted church nursery for Sunday mornings, Grant's mom for the occassional afternoon with some/all of them, and my sister available in case of emergencies. And anytime I've been at the end of a pregnancy in the past, my mother has been around to help out. I really, really, REALLY MISS MY MOM. It's almost retarded. I was distancing myself from her a little, for the past couple of months, because she's typically been really nervous and scared and negative about birth, but it's like since I got here and took hypnobirthing and spent countless hours with Nancy and talked with many other natural types who are either pregnant or recently were, and generally worked through my fears...I don't know, I just don't feel vulnerable to the "worried energy" the way I did before. I have a confidence that isn't so flimsy and fragile. I also had a moment of absolute panic earlier when I realized that if I did for some freak reason have to transfer...I'd have to do it without Grant. That had never occured to me, and as I said I don't think it's likely or anything. But wow, WOW would that suck. And my mom would make the kids and hence us feel so much better, as childcare, than some stranger watching them during birth (Nancy's partner's daughter, to be exact) and then in the days after birth she could take them out sometimes, or Grant could and I wouldn't be alone...blah. I've been seriously considering calling her and proverbially throwing myself down at her feet and begging her to come. The idea of my sister or my mom and brother showing up here in the cold weirdness makes me almost cry it's so awesome. I would cry, if I wasn't trying so hard not to.
I've decided I'm some kind of insanely spoiled, greedy person, environment-wise. People all over the world are used to experiencing seasons and appreciating the Spring because it follows a long winter. They're used to months of every year being gray and wet and dim. It's like the fast before the feast, and the world moves in this cyclical way that I never REALLY understood before, that is a metaphor for life in general on a large and small scale. I've been in the feast since I was born, and never dealt with anything like this, and I absolutely hate it. I thought I liked cold - and I do; I love 50 degree weather that allows you to finally wear the cool jacket you bought a year before. I thought I liked rain - and I do: I love warm rain with rays of light shining through it, and I like cool refreshing rain on days that are way too hot. But this? BAH! I sudddenly understand what I've always seen as silly ass filler type desktops that are pictures of tropical beaches. I have this candle that I brought with us along with several others, someone gave it to us and it seemed dumb to me - it's a green votive with a palm tree made of beads wrapped around it. Now it seems like a little piece of home when I light it. I guess I've lived my whole life to the tune of songs like "Endless summer" and "permanent vacation" and didn't even realize I was in a postcard the whole time.
Aaaaaaaaanyway. That's doins.
