For Better And For Worse.

I feel that perhaps I am exhausting the whole pregnancy topic. I know, I know, you're so sick of hearing about my weird eating habits, my dilation, my inability to walk gracefully in heels ... I get it.

But as I knock over lamps and small children with my burgeoning belly, it's just kind of hard to think about anything else, you know? BABY. ALL THE TIME.

Saturday was a fantastic day. But it didn't start out that way. I had nutsy inconsistent contractions early in the morning that kept me up. I finally conceded to a hot shower just before 6:00am and then crashed back to bed for twenty minutes or so, and then I just sat there, waiting for someone to wake up. I woke up grumpy. I mean, really grumpy. Naturally, my poor husband became the target of my gripes and frustration, even though none of it had anything to do with him. I dramatically yanked on my walking clothes and grabbed a water bottle and declared I was going to go for a walk WITH CALEB and that I hope he enjoyed STAYING IN BED AND SLEEPING IN ... and then I paused by the bedroom door .... lingering ... still pausing ... and my sweet husband, who very rarely gives in to childish behavior, dumped himself out of bed and said he would go with us and for pete's sake, CALM DOWN, WOMAN.

He even pushed the jogger.

The walk gave us a chance to talk and gave me the chance to crawl down from the ceiling. I apologized and told him how frustrated I am--how I wish Naomi was here already and how my increasing discomfort is making me just a tad cranky, neither of which are his fault. Because Cub came early, I had anticipated that Naomi would, too, even though (as I've mentioned before) the two pregnancies are totally opposite. So, as we walked, I apologized profusely to my husband. And, thankfully, I am the crazy tides in the relationship while my husband is the calm ocean, and he said it was okay. And he forgave me.

I offered to mow the lawn while he edged, and we thusly made our peace.

And then the rest of the day was fantastic, a day spent as a family, with lots of playing and laughter and all of those good things.

Somewhere in the day, I found myself reflecting on the joy of it all.

And in a very humbling moment, I realized I have absolutely, ABSOLUTELY, no right to be cranky. Our son was making us laugh with every funny face and every funny word. My husband was understanding and sweet. Our little girl was kicking like crazy, unknowingly joining in our family fun as her Dadda would feel her little foot push out and try to grab it. Apparently, I was the one with the issue, the resident crab, who felt the need to create problems where no problems needed to exist. What, exactly, was the problem? A healthy pregnancy? An amazing family? Oh. Right. GET A GRIP, KATIE. I was allowing selfish impatience to cloud the beautiful view in front of me.

So, I took a step back. And I took a deep breath. I tickled my son and played trucks with him in his room and helped him throw rocks in his pool (which is, by the way, way more fun to him right now than actually getting in the pool). Most importantly, I relaxed and put on the charm for my husband and made him laugh, which he loves. I might be the size of the truck and I might waddle, but my relationship with my husband is still the most important thing in our family. Sure, he tries to understand my frustration. But, really, I don't know what's worse--being pregnant and moody, or living with someone who is pregnant and moody. Personally, I'd choose the former over the latter.

I have made menial attempts to push through these last few weeks with gusto, but this past weekend it was revealed to me that while my attempts are fine, my heart isn't. I'm allowing the staleness of The Wait to put a damper on my attitude, which makes everyone, including myself, quite miserable. This weekend I was reminded of the importance of a fresh attitude and a fresh perspective. Today is not another day where I sit and wait for Naomi, today is a new day that was not promised to me, a day full of potential joy, where I may or may not meet my little girl. If I do, great! If not, then that's great, too--I get to enjoy those baby kicks for one more day. In the mean time, I'm going to cook meals my husband loves, spend copious amounts of time with my little guy, playing trucks and cars and watching way too much Finding Nemo, and when I feel the anticipation for Naomi begin to kick in, I will walk by her nursery door and peek inside, knowing that it is not a matter of if she will be here, but when. And I will smile, knowing that she will be here, soon.

Right on time.

And I may or may not munch on some pineapple and eggplant parmesan, too. :)

Have a lovely day, friends!