Can’t Sleep

It is 4:30 in the morning as I start to write this. Zoulie woke me at about 3:00 with her ceaseless yowling. I don’t understand how she can be so stupid that she hasn’t yet realized yowling doesn’t work. It just makes me angry and then I yell at her. Now I can’t go back to sleep. I tried. I tried for well over an hour, but there comes a point when you just have to give up and get up.

So here I am, up and about before dawn, and it’s not Christmas morning. That’s just so wrong.

I had a small snack and now I’m drinking a cup of decaf tea. I hope it will soothe me enough that I can go back to sleep in 15 minutes or so. There’s still plenty of time left for sleeping. I just need to get there.

If I can’t go back to sleep, then 7:00 a.m. will perhaps see me at one of our local restaurants which opens for breakfast at that time. 8:00 might see me taking a walk and 9:00 could see me making photocopies at the library. It’s good to have a back-up plan.

I’m not feeling any sleepier, so let me tell you more about what’s going on in our lives.

Faithful Reader finished the kitchen last week. Well, there are still some details left to do, like the backsplash, but all the major stuff is now in working order. I’ve been unpacking boxes since then, going through the long task of finding, sorting, and placing that is required every time you move into a new house. I feel the burden of my possessions sitting on my shoulders again. We have too much stuff.

Pregnancy and kitchen-arranging do not go hand-in-hand, by the way. There’s no escaping the belly. It is there every time I step to the counter, every time I reach for something, every time I try to bend over. Remind me never to do this again. Whether “this” is pregnancy or kitchen-arranging, I’m not sure. Probably both.

The birds are starting to sing. Bastards.

There is an occasional time when I feel like I’m escaping the belly. Sometimes when I’m lying in bed and the baby isn’t kicking, I can forget that I’m pregnant for a while. When nothing reminds me of my baby belly, I can still imagine the contours of my pre-pregnancy body and feel like my old self. Sometimes it’s almost a surprise when I pull off the covers and see the ginormous hump that has grown on my stomach.

I went to the doctor’s office yesterday for a routine check-up. The baby and I are both fine, if a mite heavy. She said I shouldn’t gain any more weight. How exactly does one control one’s weight when pregnant? I’m not supposed to diet, nor should I let myself go hungry and thereby deprive the baby. Plus, the baby is putting on weight, which means I’m going to weigh more, too. We’re attached, you see. There’s really no escaping the belly.

The doctor also said that as of Saturday, when I reach the official 34-week mark, if the baby decides to pop out, she won’t try to stop him. He’s big enough, she says, to survive. I’m not ready yet, though, so he had better stay where he is for now.

And now I will end this very long post because I can’t think straight anymore. If you have them to spare, send me sleepy wishes.