I wrote a scathing, complaint-and-whine-laced post the other day about the PTA meeting I had to attend that night in order to get Jacelyn's report card. I am now glad that I didn't post it, but I did save one (large!) paragraph to give you an idea of the absolutely horrible mood I was in about the whole thing:
I can't stand PTA - wait, scratch that, 'HSO' meetings. The sitting for so long kills me. I end up having to use the restroom in the cafeteria (since I cannot manage to go longer than five minutes without using the restroom) and let me assure you, those smaller scaled toilets do not make for a graceful dismount when you are nine months pregnant. Not to mention the fact that I usually have to go straight from work and am hungry, and tired. And a miniscule amount of time seems to be dedicated to things that actually matter, actual business, but it takes someone ten minutes to remind us all to save our old cell phones and printer cartridges. Why? Why does that take ten minutes? I propose a one stop, one person presentation on every day type of fundraisers. Instead of ten minutes being spent on Box Tops, just lump all those daily things, the ink cartridges and the Box Tops and the gift card sales into one brief presentation that basically reminds people that if they do those things, the school makes money without you, your friends, neighbors, and loved ones having to buy overpriced gift wrap, chocolates and/or cookie dough all in the interest of supporting your child's education. And when people ask questions, even though they are well within their rights and perfectly entitled to do so, it makes me want to scream and throw things at them. I just want to jump out of my seat, preferably scattering chairs around me in a loud and dramatic fashion, and scream, "Is no one else hungry? Or tired? Does everyone else have someone to get their child into bed on time? BECAUSE I DON'T, AND I WANT TO GO HOME!". I do have someone to watch my child, understand, she won't be home alone or anything, but they are not the responsible, make sure she is showered and eats dinner and is ready for bed type of babysitter. No, these are the feed her candy and let her get dirty and hyper and then send her home ten minutes before bedtime wide awake and shrieking from over-stimulation. Sigh.
Yeah, there was more, that is the sad part. Keep in mind that I am terribly, vastly pregnant and not feeling well and was very tired that day. But: I went to the meeting and got the report card and it was very good! She has improved in all the areas she was supposed to improve in, and got good marks generally all around. Good for her! I'm very proud of her, and I let her know it.
I pre-registered at the hospital yesterday, and took a brief tour of the maternity ward. It finally hit me - holy crap, I'm having a baby. At some point, relatively soon-ish, I am having a baby. Holy crap. I turned in my birthing preferences sheet, which really just said the following:
-I want an epidural (and that right soon)
-I want to breastfeed ASAP after delivery
-I want to see Jacelyn ASAP after delivery
Those were my largest concerns. I opted for rooming in, and breastfeeding, of course. I was amused by the section that allowed you to list people you didn't want around you in the hospital. I understand why they do that, don't get me wrong, but it was funny to think about. That is one good thing about hospitals - they will play the bad cop and kick people out. Of course, as much as you are paying them, they should. Right after I had Jacelyn a bunch of Brian's friends descended on the maternity ward. They were well behaved but I was exhausted, and was trying to think of a polite way to get rid of them when a nurse came in and kicked them out so she could check me. During the check she noted that I looked tired, and asked point-blank if I wanted her to get rid of them. I gratefully agreed, and once she opened the door she announced that I was tired and needed my rest, and told them they could return the next day. She even told Brian to walk them out. I loved it, and was able to settle in and have a few moments alone.
Last night we went out to dinner, and I had a moment in the ladies room: I couldn't fit into the stall. There was only one stall, and the door opened into the stall and hit the toilet halfway in, effectively preventing the door from opening any further. Also blocking my entrance was the huge toilet tissue dispenser. I tried a few times to get in - different angles and such, and then just gave up. Jacelyn thought it was hilarious - "Mommy, you won't fit!", but I was not amused. I ended up sneaking into the men's room and using that (after a good, thorough wipe-down), because not using the restroom wasn't an option. A general rule with me lately is that if I am going to be somewhere longer than about fifteen minutes, I locate the restroom because I know that at some point in the near future, I will need it.
I have the baby's things packed. A couple of outfits (one with a hat), a couple pairs of socks. Some hand mitties. I threw in a pacifier, although I'm not going to let anyone know it is there. Jacelyn had some trouble latching on, so we had to avoid the pacifier in order to prevent nipple confusion. I will have the binkie just in case. But it's my little secret.
What I have not done is packed my own things. I have a general idea of what I want to bring in the way of toiletries and such, but what to wear, both while in the hospital and when leaving the hospital, is throwing me off. I'll probably deal with that tomorrow - my plan is to finish packing the bag, and to clean out the car. And then, most likely, to put the bag in the car. I guess. And then to clean, because I don't want to go into labor with a dirty house. Well, it's not dirty, but it doesn't look great. Cluttery-ish, kind of. Here's hoping the nesting instinct kicks in again so I can get it all done.
Two weeks and counting!