Only ten days left. I can’t believe it. Really, I am in denial about how short the time is. In these last days I’ve been feeling pretty wonderful. This has been I think the easiest last trimester I’ve been through. Thank God for small favors. I’ve been feeling wonderful; but have not had very much motivation for writing of late. I’m not sure why, I just don’t have much of an urge to sit down to compose my thoughts on paper.
We’ve been doing some thinking about logistics both short term and long term. How are things going to run during my hospital stay? What will they be like when I’m home? Wondering how the rhythms of the family life will change, wondering how Ben and Sophie and Bella will adapt. They will adapt, of course. Children do. But there may be some bumps along the way.
I wonder who will take it harder. I’d generally have thought Ben; but of late he’s been much better since finishing his latest round of teething and then getting treated for the ear infection that had been lingering after his cold. Sophie, on the other hand, has been seeming very fragile. She seems to cry about everything. She’ll be three in three weeks and I do believe three can be a harder age than two. Plus I suspect a bit of pre-baby regression.
Tonight Dom and I went on an actual Valentine’s date. When we said we were leaving, Sophie fell to pieces. It was as if I’d announced the end of the world. Fortunately it didn’t last too long after we left. But there were a great many tears. Poor thing.
It was a very lovely dinner. Perhaps the best Indian restaurant I’ve ever been to. We splurged and got one of those all inclusive meals for two that included meat samosas; deep, rich peppery chicken soup; two entrees, chicken saag and lamb rogan josh; and a grilled meats platter. Also dessert; but we skipped that in the end. You know how saag pretty much is the same no matter where you go? (At least in my experience.) Well, this was different, better. Creamier but lighter, not as rich. Everything was like that. A little less heavy, a bit more delicate flavor than I’m used to. Just sheer bliss.
As we sipped our soup we tried to analyze the precise combination of flavors: What made it so rich? Roasted chicken? Ah, yes, tandoori chicken chunks at the bottom of the bowl. Was that white pepper? And black too?
Now I rather wish I had tried the dessert; though at the time my pregnancy-pressed stomach really couldn’t take any more.
We came home and all the children were quite happy. Bella changed into her pajamas in a flash when I promised I’d read her a story and then she snuggled next to me on the couch as I read her request: the Order of the Mass from an old issue of Magnifikids. This has been her request the past few nights. Evidently while we were gone she asked my sister to read it too and pestered her with questions about Why do we go to Mass every Sunday? What is praying? Why do we ask people to pray for us? Why don’t I see God? Why do we all pray together? Why do we say prayers every night? Why did God make us? Why does he love us? Why do we sing alleluia?
Heavy stuff for my poor sister to field. Though she majored in theology, it’s a bit different from answering a four year-old’s persistent questions on the fly. Curious that she hasn’t been firing these questions at me. Is it because she’s already heard my answers to them all? Is she just doing a sort of mental triangulation, trying to see how different people respond? Or do I not give satisfactory answers? Or have I been impatient with her questions, brushing them off so that she doesn’t feel she can ask me? I don’t think it’s the latter; but perhaps I haven’t even noticed myself doing it?
Speaking of Bella, last night at bedtime she said to Dom: “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.” (So he can help brush her teeth, you know) When he went in he found her sitting on the edge of the tub, hands folded primly in her lap. She held out her hand to shake his: “Nice to meet you,” she said. She’s starting to get a very funny sense of humor. I can’t believe she’s almost five.
I’ve been inspired by Lissa (and others) to watch Downton Abbey. I’ve been screening it on my computer while Dom watches The Office or other shows that I really don’t care about on the tv. At one point last night he glanced up and said that it looks like I’m not enjoying whatever I’m watching. I look upset. Only then did I realize I was in pain: “Oh no, it’s a good show. I’m just having a contraction.” Yep. I’m at that point in late pregnancy where they are just frequent random visitors that stop me in my tracks. Not consistent or regular; but getting stronger. At least since this is our fourth go he’s stopped turning white and looking panicked when I make that kind of announcement. He just goes back to his show, curiosity satisfied.
Anyway, I guess that’s about enough random observations for one night. Time to go to bed. I’ve got a date to meet an old friend in the morning for coffee and treats. What fun!
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