Well, I think we’re going to buy a snuggle nest; this feels like some kind of milestone, although I can’t really explain that. Still, woo for bedsharing safety!
Last night I was talking to the little bird and caught myself saying “Your moms—” and meaning Ruth and Nora, and I freaked myself out a bit. What a gross moment.
Midwife appointment today! I’m sure this one will be as pointless as they all feel. I keep getting the impression that I’m disappointing them by being matter-of-fact and not having any questions.
I’m going to California in October! The Mister won’t be able to join me, unfortunately, as he has to hoard his precious few vacation days for the birth of our son. But it will be good to get back to the homeland for a week.
I’ve started doing stretches in the bath to help with lower back pain, which helps.
I think we’re going out to dinner tomorrow, using a gift certificate we were given awhile back; a chance to pick out my most dazzling maternity outfit! We’ve been saving the certificate for what I thought would be the perfect time in the pregnancy—far enough along that I am able and delighted to eat like a horse, but not so far along that a big dinner causes mechanical problems. We’re celebrating T3 out on the town!
Only last night did we realize that we’re supposed to drive to the Emerald City during Labor Day weekend, and Mr. Book is also sad that it’s the first day of college football. We are not primo schedulers.
My insomnia is really getting out of hand. I mean, I’ll schedule this to go up at a normal grownup time, but I’m writing it at 2 a.m. Can’t really imagine sleeping anytime soon. I can sleep if I take a benadryl, but even knowing that it’s safe, I feel guilty taking any drugs while pregnant. I had a monster migraine on Sunday, and it turns out that hiding in bed with an ice pack is much less effective without any medication. I can’t figure out whether I’m being noble about this . . . or just dumb.
It turns out that cobbler is extra good if you make the shortcake with maple sugar.