jaysaint Getting it all down on paper…

I was going to write a long, detailed post here. But Damon put me to sleep by rubbing my feet and now I only have a minute.

Thanks to my Friends who posted the arrival of my little baby. I was hoping that would happen, as I am still trying to get it together.

The only really important thing to say is that Alden is here. He has changed everything in the best possible ways. He loves scalp massages and Christopher Walken’s voice.

Soon I will post pictures that will paralyze you with their cuteness.

This morning I grabbed our copy of Time Out New York, which Damon had finished and left on my nightstand. I was particularly excited about this one, because it’s the annual animal issue. On close inspection, I noticed that all the pages that contain stories I might find distressing or disgusting had been carefully removed. He kills me.

This temporary apartment comes with a cleaning lady. Heaven!

I grew up with a weekly cleaning lady, and I miss it terribly. Through almost all my elementary school days it was Carrie. Carrie was an older lady, and she didn’t have a driver’s license. I think she worked for just about every household in my family. So whoever had Carrie on Monday mornings would go get her. Then whoever had her on Monday afternoon would snag her from that house and bring her on over. Then after she’d get a ride home. I don’t remember which day we had Carrie, but I do remember that the only way to get to enjoy the fruits of Grandpa’s waffle maker was to be at their house on Tuesday morning. That was their Carrie slot and she was the only one who rated breaking out that special, needed-particular-cleaning appliance. So if you showed up at the same time you could ride her coattails to some delicious waffles. I was still a kid when she retired, but as I recall our collective family had put enough aside for her to give her a decent nest egg to live from. I’m sure it wasn’t anything extravagant, but then again it was probably better than most independent cleaning ladies did. I know my mom kept in touch with her daughter for a few years, and I believe Carrie passed away when I was in high school. That being a particularly egocentric time of life, I don’t remember the particulars. I’ll bet my mom does. I should ask her.

Anyway, it was so, so lovely to walk in today and find everything sparkly clean.

No, not a peep from him. Wednesday I worked like a maniac. Yesterday I moped. Today I’m back to working, but at a less frenetic pace than Wednesday. This is probably the way to go.

Thursday was a bad day. I’m chalking it up to a combination of re-setting my expectations of when I’ll have this baby and perhaps some hormonal stuff. Either way, I spent a very long day perched on the edge of the couch staring at, but not really watching, the TV. Damon came home to a weepy wife who was not shy about expressing, “I want to GO HOME. I don’t like it here!!!” Which is silly. But still felt completely true. I wanted to sit on my couch in my apartment and cook in my kitchen and put baby clothes in my nursery. He handled it very well by immediately offering to call in his understudy and stay home with me today, and then taking me out to the movies. The offer and the outing were enough to re-set me and I was able to send him off to work without too much worry.

I think maybe today I’ll go get a pedicure and have my toes painted a fun color.

Okay, I’ve regained a little of my perspective. I saw the midwife today, and while I continue to dilate (now at a 2) there’s no reason to EXPECT to go into labor RIGHT NOW.

So I’m going to re-gain my equilibrium and try to be a little nicer to myself. I think I can be more patient if I lower my expectations of myself right now — just a notch or two. We got home about an hour ago and I had my first real stab of fear about labor. It didn’t last long, and I am sure it was driven by the fact that I ran around all afternoon and night. I got home dead tired and aching like crazy, which made me feel like I couldn’t manage to get up a flight of stairs much less deliver a baby. I’m sure I’ll get my confidence back tomorrow.

I just ate about 10 homemade chocolate chip cookies (I’m not exaggerating) so that’s a start.

Damon has gone to the gym, because he’s a crazy person. So the couch and the remote are all mine!