I’ve been feeling pretty cruddy lately. Not emotionally (thank you, Lexapro!), but physically. This pregnancy thing gets really hard at the end, and I’m sure it doesn’t help that I’m of “advanced maternal age” (pffft). It’s just standard stuff: my hips, lower back, shoulders, and belly muscles ache all the time. My guess is that it’s the same issues that every woman probably feels at 36 (holy crap, y’all, THIRTY-SIX!!) weeks pregnant.
Yesterday was hard. I needed to work, and even though I’m working from home, I had a hard time focusing because of my discomfort. I managed to do the work that needed to be done, but nothing beyond that. Which stinks, because I really love it when I can lose myself in my work.
Eventually, I realized it was getting close to 5:00, so I changed out of my maternity yoga pants for maternity jeans, and actually put on a bra (I know, my standards are super-high these days) to head over to daycare to pick up Catie.
Catie is going to be transitioning over to the pre-K class at the end of this month, and since her teacher was out today, they let her spend the day in the pre-K class as sort of a practice round.
When I got there, I was suddenly surrounded by a half-dozen little girls who were throwing question after question at me.
“Catie says you’re having a baby!”
Yes, we sure are.
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“What are you going to name it?”
Oh, we haven’t decided yet.
“Could you name her Sally?”
Um, probably not, but Sally is a very pretty name!
“Is the baby in your tummy RIGHT NOW???”
Yep, that’s where she’ll be until she’s born.
“Is she sleeping or awake?”
I don’t know, she’s not kicking right this minute, so she might be asleep.
“Can I feel?”
“Oooh, can I feel too?” “Can I?” “Can I?”
Next thing you know, I’m surrounded by about a half dozen four year-olds who all have their hands on my belly. It was very weird and very funny at the same time. I felt sort of like one of those Buddha statues that people rub for good luck.
“So where is the baby in there?”
Well, you see this little bump right here? That’s her tushie.
**Entire crowd of four year-olds falls over laughing. Note: when in doubt, go for the butt jokes. It kills with that crowd.**
“Hey, Catie’s mom? Can I have a hug?”
Of course you can have a hug!
“Oooh, can I have a hug too?” “Can I?” “Can I?”
So, yeah, I was the rockstar of the daycare pre-K class. That was pretty awesome.
Other random daycare anecdote #1:
Last night, Catie was telling me about a conversation at daycare.
“Miss Germaine [note: that’s the pre-K teacher] said that little kids don’t drink coffee, and I said, well I drink coffee every day!!”
So today I had to find Miss Germaine and explain that Catie’s version of “coffee” is actually caffeine-free Diet Coke, and she is allowed to have a teeny-tiny cup of it as a special treat, maybe once a week, certainly NOT every day. (This all started because she refers to Diet Coke as “Mommy’s Coffee,” which… well, it IS my coffee, since it’s the only source of caffeine that I drink.) I just didn’t want her to think I was the World’s Worst Mother, but she laughed and said that she figured that Catie must have been referring to something else.
Four year-olds, man. Freaking impossible.
Other random daycare anecdote #2:
This morning, when I took Catie in to drop her off, one of the little girls who asked for a hug yesterday marched up to me and said, “I had a dream that you had your baby today.”
I said, “Well, I hope your dream was wrong, because she isn’t supposed to come quite yet!”
And now I’m totally freaked out that there’s some creepy psychic four year-old who knows when I’m going to go into labor.
On the plus side, though, it has totally motivated me to hurry up and pack my suitcase for the hospital. So there’s that.