~ Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life ~
Every Thursday, here at Like Mother, Like Daughter!
We made it! We are happily mostly settled in Houston, in our lovely furnished apartment. No, really, the apartment is pretty nice–just not home, you know? I’ve been working on getting things set up and organized so we have a little of that homey feeling.
There are some obstacles, though. First of all, Freddie. You know. He’s awesome, but organization is not his strong suit.
Second of all, Dino 2. He (yup, another boy!) is also just fantastic, but often forces me to use my time napping instead of tidying/cleaning/etc. We could think of this afternoon nap as being MY fault…but we won’t.
Third of all, The Quack. No, just kidding, he’s the greatest. Really this is also Freddie’s fault. We put the pack-and-play in the (very well ventilated!) closet, which is working well, but since I’d really rather not have the one-year-old start his day before 5 AM, all Daddy’s work clothes have to be stored out in the living room.
Anyway, it’s a work in progress. And I only have three more months here, so who knows if I’ll find a solution! (Spoiler: I won’t. Not to all of it, anyway!)
You know, I’m sure, that moving is just THE WORST. I won’t go into the details, I’ll just trust that you know, and say thank goodness I had all these handy-dandy pregnancy hormones to help keep me on an even keel.
ANYWAY, as it turns out, driving 21 hours over the course of three days was a great way to leave all that behind. We drove through some truly beautiful country–our route took us through Virginia, Tennessee, a tiny bit of Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, before arriving in Texas.
We spent the second night in New Orleans and got a little bit of time to see the city.
In June, besides moving, we had one wedding (the Quack’s sister!), one first Mass (the Quack’s college friend), and one ordination (my college friend), and one first birthday!
Freddie turned one on our first day of driving! We had a small party in the park behind our old apartment a few days before we left. (At that point our apartment was way too far gone in the packing process to host anything.)
And here he is at a rest stop on his actual birthday!
And now he’s just ridiculously big.
I was dreading the road trip, but as it turns out I really enjoyed it. Lots of time to talk, lots of country to see–I’m looking forward to doing another trip, this time with more leisure to stop in fun places.
But I’d like to do it in a bigger car.
Close quarters. (The two seats unoccupied by humans are occupied with luggage.)
One very tall man, one rather pregnant lady, one toddler in a large carseat, plus four months’ worth of luggage, all in a Toyota Corolla…it’s a tight fit. I think we probably looked fairly comical.
Well, that escalated quickly.
It’s just the lens cap, not a weird black blob on my underarm. Sorry.
I’m 24 weeks now. Feeling pretty good, trying my best to stay cheerful in the face of Houston’s temperatures. I’ve got plenty of symptoms (see above re: hormones and napping), but no concerning ones, thank God.
You know all the rules about what to say and do around a pregnant lady? Well, I have an amendment: you can go right ahead and help the lady out.
Last month, the day after my sister-in-law’s wedding, we went to the First Mass of a friend of John’s from college. It was fairly long, as these things tend to be, and Freddie got antsy, so I took him out to the foyer, where quite a few people were standing–enough people that I couldn’t really let Freddie run freely as he wanted.
After about 20 minutes of wrangling him in my arms, letting him toddle around a bit, then catching him before he got too far, a lovely woman came up to me and said, “I’m going to hold him for you now. You’re tired, you have another one on the way, [and here she patted my belly] I know how it feels. It’s hard. My babies are grown, but I remember. I’ll take him now.”
So, here are the rules that she broke:
1. She assumed I was pregnant (and honestly, at that point it wasn’t super obvious).
2. She touched my belly.
3. She tried to take my baby out of my arms.
And honestly, I was so grateful I could have cried. I WAS tired. It WAS hard to keep bending down to grab a little crawler.
It didn’t work, because Freddie didn’t want to be held by anybody (including me). But I just want to toss out there that sometimes somebody does need help. Of course we all need to be polite about it, and respect boundaries, but let’s not erect random boundaries that keep help away.