I am sick. Hacking, congested cough, snotty nose, sore throat. I would like it duly noted for the record - someone in the great scheme of things, please jot this down: it is not fair to be nine months pregnant and sick. Your energy is already sapped. Precious sleep is already at a minimum. You can't take any medicine, at least not anything that really works. When you cough or sneeze, the danger of peeing on yourself is very great. Add to the cough/cold combination another unpleasant condition that starts with a 'C' (I am, as a dear friend puts it, 'all stoved up', if you catch my drift), and I am miserable. But that's OK, it will get better. Because it has to get better. Right? Right? Anybody? It's gonna get better, right?
I have an appointment with my OB on Monday morning, so I will survive until then. And then if I'm still feeling icky he can (hopefully) give me something or suggest something that will help me. And then I can find out if I'm dilated or anything so I can reassure those around me that the baby is not going to explode out of me at any random moment just around the corner. I am trying to be a good sport about it, but comments from random strangers about my size or impending labor are getting irritating. And when people (some people, not all) find out that I have less than a month to go, they freak out a little bit - the other day at work a couple I was helping actually backed up from me slightly, as though they were going to get sprayed with something. Like amniotic fluid was going to shoot out of my nose. And then there was the older gentleman who I was assisting the day after Christmas, who told me that I must be having quadruplets, because I was just so big. Har-har, sir. I have a baby inside me that makes my belly large; what is your excuse?
Christmas went well. We weren't sure Jacelyn was going to be up to midnight Mass, with her being sick, but she napped from about 2:00 until almost 8:00 and woke up refreshed and ready to go. I was grumpy and disgruntled, but then I am grumpy and disgruntled a lot of the time lately, so it was nothing new. Brian and Jacelyn left around 11:30 to get seats, and I stayed behind for another ten minutes or so to make sure everything was ready for Santa to come while we were gone. She behaved very well through Mass, and afterwards we went to Brian's parent's house for presents. And after that we went to our house for presents, so we were up until almost 5am. It makes me tired just typing it!
My sister woke me up the next morning around 11am, and I hurriedly got up and started getting the ham in the oven. Brian was in the kitchen at the same time, and I got very territorial - I wanted him out of my kitchen. I even said a couple of time - "YOU ARE IN MY WAY". He was trying to finish up some pies he had started making the night before, so he was just sitting around spreading cool whip, but he was in my way just the same. He at one time said something about prepping the chicken and turkey at our house before heading to his mother's house to cook them (he was frying them, because this is the south and we love to fry stuff), but I nixed that idea very quickly. I had to baste the ham, make cornbread, make macaroni and cheese, make tea, clean the kitchen and front bathroom...I could go on and on. And did go on and on.
But despite having everyone over at our house, despite a sick child and a sore back, it was a good Christmas. My Christmas spirit has flown the coop, however. There are still things to be done around the house before Little Guy gets here, and the Christmas tree is holding me back. As much as I would like to keep it displayed for the proper amount of time, I am ashamed to admit that I want it gone. I want the snowmen candles gone. I want the lights in the dining room window gone. I want it all gone, and everything in its' proper place. I have a hormone-fueled desire to be ready, darnit. And if you don't listen to those hormones...well, just look out.
School does not resume until January 7th, but there is a part of me that realizes this time is the last time I will have before the baby is born to not be dealing with the school routine (up early, driving all over creation, etc). And I still have to work - a good catholic education does not pay for itself, alas. I want to get things done while the getting is good. And if that means cutting the Christmas season a bit short, in the decorative sense....well, so be it. There's always next year.
I still need to pack my hospital bag. I still don't know what exactly to pack for Little Guy. I don't know where to keep my hospital bag once I have packed it - in my car? At the house? I am mulling over when I should install Little Guy's car seat. And should it go in my car? Will we be taking my car to the hospital, or Brian's? I am a confused mess. But I'm getting by.
Merry Christmas to all, and I wish you a Happy New Year, as well.