Thanks to all the folks who gave us gift certificates, we were able to buy a car seat over the weekend, which was the missing piece to the do-we-have-everything puzzle. Does it make me a bad parent because I wanted the one with the racing stripe? No? Phew. We also got busy in the nursery, hanging a re-purposed kitchen shelf above the changing table, and putting some decorative touches on the walls in the form of re-purposed multicolored African and Brazilian art and masks. Sorry, Vegas, but we’re definitely at a cutesy deficit in the nursery. I can’t tell you when you’ll be introduced to any kind of cartoon character. You do, however, have a fake ficus – that’s got to be worth something, right?
Physically, I’m really beginning to feel month nine gearing up to start on Wednesday. I broke down and bought some wrist braces that I’ve been wearing at night for the past few nights. While it’s a little weird to have such big, blue, cumbersome robot-arms when I go to bed, I’m finding that they’re actually helping in the numbness/tingling that’s been keeping me awake. I still can’t type on the computer or jot down a handwritten list for crazy long spells, as my hands fall asleep quickly, at least I think I’ve got a handle on the nighttime issues. Now that we’ve turned on the A/C, sleeping at night is almost enjoyable – you know, in between all of the peeing.
Bending over is getting harder (or more impossible), and I think my wife thinks I’m going into early labor every time I bend down and let out a barbaric groan. I’m still walking the dog at least once a day, but our pace has slowed quite a bit, so a 20 minute walk has easily turned into a 30 minute walk by the time that I can get myself up the hill. My ankles (cankles, much?) are out of control, but that’s old news. Vegas is getting fat and sassy, and I can feel his most productive days as I’m left exhausted and nauseous. Like today. You’re lucky my eyes are open wide enough to see the screen.
We start weekly OB appointments this week, which is when things get physical, physical. “They” don’t tell you that as soon as you stop being able to “take care” of things from the waist down, all of the sudden everyone starts paying attention and wants you to drop trou. That’s sick and wrong, folks. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to nap underneath my desk.