1. I have started swimming as exercise again and it feels wonderful. I wish I had the mental and emotional strength to overcome my fierce tendency to feel depressed and lethargic during the first months of pregnancy. I know many women who, in spite of the nausea and fatigue, manage to eat well and exercise because they know it's good for them. Not so with me. I have to feel somewhat good to make myself feel good by doing the things that are good for me. Make sense? I look forward to my swim days with glee and anticipation and if it wasn't for the wet hair and two-hour time commitment when I include drive time, I'd do it every day. But, I'm still awfully pleased with three times a week.
2. I feel as if I have had to become a crusader of my Sabbath Day religious right. In years past, I have delicately side stepped birthday parties and other minor activities that occasionally get scheduled on Sundays, but this year, I have had to get into the whys and hows with both Seth and Sam's soccer teams. Even though the response I have received has been mainly of tolerance and respect, I still feel a bit preachy and holier-than-though when explaining why soccer games, soccer practices, soccer parties are not something my boys or we parents will attend. Now, Seth's middle school is putting on their first ever Family Fun Run to raise money for smart boards in the classroom. When the newsletter came home, Jay and I responded by telling Seth, "We totally would have supported this had it been on any other day, but we're not giving money to something that's being held on a Sunday." He understood and didn't make a fuss about it at all. Now, the person who has organized the entire thing, who happens to be the mother of one of Seth's very good friends who HE PLAYS SOCCER WITH, has sent me an email saying she knows we won't run in the race but hopes we'll consider pledging money anyway because it's for a very good cause. I get that. Jay gets that. What they don't seem to get is that it's on Sunday. We don't want things to be on Sunday. We think that day should be off limits - for soccer, for parties and especially for school events. While part of me feels Scrooge-ish for withholding our generosity for something that would benefit the school and our kids, I also feel (and Jay even more strongly than I) that supporting an event that we won't attend, because it's on Sunday, with our money sends no message at all. We'd like them to do this on another day. I'd also like to not have to explain this, again, to this very nice, very, very helpful woman (she's the mother who drove Seth home after my vomit episode yesterday. She's a great person). But, her email kind of put the kibosh on my passive-aggressiveness. Darn it.
3. For some reason, I have a hard time gushing on this blog. I know bloggers, in general, get accused all the time of prettying up their life and only showing the good stuff but I almost have the opposite problem. I am much, much more comfortable whining and complaining on this public forum than saying, "This part of my life is really great!" Bizarre? I just read through my pregnancy posts and, holy cow, my future child may have some issues should he ever read my accounting of how he came to be. With that in mind, I want the entire world to know that while I still detest and loathe being pregnant, I have fallen deeply in love with my baby already. I'm not sure how Heavenly Father manages to squeeze out my divine nurturing skills when I resist them so, but I feel that bond between us already. His kicks, his hiccups, even his stillness all seem so....personal. I thought I should reassure any that may be concerned about my ability to be a good mother to him that he'll be cherished and perfectly spoiled with my sincere devotion. He just kicked. I told you we have this connection. It's like he's saying, "Me too." Love him.
4. All three of my boys had parent teacher conferences this afternoon. I've been going to these things for seven years now and I have to say, I've gotten pretty used to hearing the accolades and praises of my genuinely bright and well-behaved boys. While I have learned that this desire to please and innate obedience has very little to do with any parenting techniques Jay and I use, it still makes us look good. And I like to look good. This year, we've thrown Henry into the fray. Henry, who can manage to charm a complete stranger into buying his little bag of oreos at the store yesterday because, "He's a cute little guy." has not managed to enamor his Kindergarten teacher. None of her complaints surprised us today, because we live with him after all, but I'm just so unused to hearing about anything but his adorable glasses/face/voice/dance moves etc. etc. I suppose I should be glad that she is so determined to break him of his slightly less cute stubbornness, inattentiveness, disregard for quality work and bossiness, but I learned it's never that much fun to hear another adult describe the faults of your child. Thankfully, he's bright like his brothers so, academically, she thinks he's doing great, but if we could get him to care about coloring in the lines, cutting out things with more care, and not talking back when he doesn't want to do something, she'd appreciate it. Could that guy who wrote, "Everything I need to know I learned in Kindergarten," actually have been right?
5. Jay ran 29 miles today. 29. I am married to a machine.
6. Because Jay had the day off today (thus the time to run 29 miles because that is apparently what a machine does on a day off), he had the boys for the after-school slew of activities: piano lessons and soccer. I had a little over an hour to kill before Young Womens started and, rather than going home, I went to the library and to get some dinner in town. I really, really didn't want fast food so I opted for Applebees. Is it weird that I find chain food comforting at times? My cute, small mountain towns abhors chain restaurants and, other than Applebees and fast food, there are none so I kind of consider it a treat when I get to go. The thought did cross my mind that it wasn't a typical table-for-one kind of restaurant, but I had a hankering for the Oriental Chicken Salad so didn't let that small fear dissuade me from entering. When I told the hostess it was, "just me," she responded with WAY more sympathy than was required. "What? Just one? No one else coming? Well...O.K." Really? Is solitary restaurant eating really that unheard of? I have to say I loved it. No spills. No complaining. No cutting of food. Just me and my salad.
7. Of course, having only a salad in front of me left me open to all kinds of people watching. Seated just on the opposite side of the half-wall that separated us was a combined group of a man, two women and about seven kids. I never could figure out who belonged to who or what the celebration was (several of the children were wearing mardi-gras type beads) but I watched the middle-aged man (probably slightly older than me. Looked forty-ish) possessively touch the woman he was seated next to, who I assume was his wife as they were both wearing rings, on the thigh through the entire meal. He was even eating a sandwich...some kind of melt, and that takes skills. Usually two hands. I thought about his need to touch her while eating and I surmised that the older children in the group couldn't be theirs. His or hers but probably not genetically theirs because, and this is sad thinking, people who have been married long enough to have children that old do not feel the need to touch throughout a meal, especially when eating a tricky layered sandwich. The hand-on-thigh wasn't the only clue. She seemed much younger. They kissed at least three times. Mind you, this is at Applebees. Not some candlelit romantic restaurant. I hope I'm not being overly cynical. Jay and I went to the movies last Friday night and we totally held hands. Fifteen years of marriage and we're still willing and able to touch in public. The spark isn't gone. But....I'm about a thousand percent certain that had that date been at Applebees, with our children and a few extras, there would have been no thigh caressing. I'm just saying it's unlikely.
8. I went to an art gallery for Young Women's tonight. I know nothing about art. The pieces on display were really spectacular, especially with the inside information given by our tour guide. There is always something about being around art, or seeing what other people can create that leaves me a bit depressed. I think of all the people of the world I envy and the talents I covet, that ability to create beautiful things with your own hands ranks near the top. I appreciate the ability to sing and read with a critical eye but if I could wish for a talent, I'm pretty sure I'd wish for artistic skills. It could be anything. I saw amazing woodturning and jewelry sculpting tonight. The paintings were spectacular. There was an artist that painted glass and turned them into intricate lamps. That'd be o.k. with me too. Sigh.
9. I had the best cup of warm apple cider afterward (or is it afterwards, Mom? I don't get the squiggly green line with either so I don't know which is right!) It is happiness in a paper cup. Yummy.
