• preg-nuts,  the laundry

    The first load of baby laundry

    Oh the laundry!

    There are two baskets and one pillow case full of baby laundry sitting on my living room floor right now. I followed Anne’s advice and decided Thursday wasn’t a very good day to do laundry. Actually, Toby had to shoot all day today and I was counting on him to help me carry all this laundry down the stairs and into his van so I could transport it across the street to the laundromat without falling down the stairs like a giant laundry snowball. He’s promised me he’ll be free for laundry carrying duty tomorrow. Friday is a much better day for doing laundry anyway.

    Phew! That’s a lot of laundry and that isn’t even all of our laundry. That’s just baby bedding and a few outfits and blankets for the hospital! We have a whole hamper full of clothes and a bed spread (thanks to the puking cat) in the other room that I’m going to do in my second shift of laundry tomorrow. See, the drudgeries of motherhood have already started. Not really. I’ve hated doing laundry since the day I moved out of my mom’s house.

    But just the same, every time I walk by those two baskets and pillow case in my living room, I give myself a fright. Is this what it’s going to be like being a mom? Is this just the beginning of never ending days of laundry and poopy diapers!

    I told Toby that if I got bored enough today, I might load up the new buggaboo stroller (Yes! I have it now! It’s so divine!!!!) with one load at a time and push the stroller across the street for practice. But of course I haven’t gotten that bored today. Besides I’d probably look like a freak pushing a stroller full of laundry across the street when obviously the baby is still in my tummy. And then there’s the whole balance issue, can I even get the stroller down the stairs right now?

    Yeah, not THAT bored.

  • illos,  preg-nuts


    Things are definitely starting to get un-glamorous with this latter stage of pregnancy. It’s like my naturally chipper-morning-personality has been replaced with that of a slug, or Jabba the hut. I can’t even get up in the morning any more. I lay in bed (or more frequently the couch) on my back (which I’m not supposed to do) and watch the clock hands drip around to noon. It’s pathetic. The sun shines, my list-of-things-to-do calls me, birds sing, people talk outside my window…it all just goes by me and I slip deeper and deeper into slothdom. Or at least I imagine that I’m doing this. In reality, I’m up by eight but my day seems half over by then. I have the energy of a cheap dead battery.

    I sleep on the couch a lot these days. It’s not that I’m trying to get away from my loving husband, it’s just that I can never get comfortable in bed and I’ll sleep wherever I can. If the kitchen floor was comfortable, I’d sleep there. I even catch myself eyeballing the baby’s crib and wondering if I could just get over the railing, it might be comfortable there. And did I mention that I snore now? It’s so romantic and endearing… I am a disgusting snoring slug. What’s next, I’ll start oozing green slime?

    I know it sounds like I’m sad and depressed. I’m not. I’m actually raring to go. I really really want this baby to be here already. She kicks me and makes all kinds of wiggly squirmy movements inside me. I feel like I’m already getting to know her. Guess what really makes her kick? Pink fizzy lemonade from France (via Trader Joes). What a darling she already is, taking after her mommy who loves anything from Paris!

    I think I’m just a teeny bit discouraged because I really thought my little baby might come early. Like this week. But when I went to my doctor’s appointment yesterday, my doctor said I will most likely make it all the way to my due date (January 15th) if not past it. So that comment about the baby’s head being super low (that she said the week before), that means nothing! When everybody looks at my big belly and says, “Wow! You look like you’ve dropped already.” That means nothing too! I’m good and stuck with her in here for at least two and a half more weeks! Groan.

    TWO and a half MORE WEEKS! That’s an eternity in my state of slugdom. And I was really hoping to get out of doing laundry today.

Secret Agent Josephine
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© Brenda Ponnay