Remember my neighbor? Well, I’ve decided to refer to him now as the “Prick Upstairs” or P.U. for short. P.U. and I have had another nasty round of confrontations, about which the only good thing I can say is that they were precipitated indirectly by his plans to move. (If you want the full story, read the long version.)
This Is How Badly I’ve Got It
Today I watched my friend’s baby while she went to a meeting for the morning. He needed to nap, so I borrowed a co-sleeper/packnplay from my upstairs neighbor (NOT P.U. – the neighbor directly above us who is a good friend and a single mother by choice). Her daughter sleeps in her crib now, so the cosleeper’s been packed away for a couple of months.
When I set it up, I discovered a sheet stuffed in a side pocket. As I pulled it out, I noticed that it still had the wonderfully indescribably teeny baby smell. I offered it to Cait to sniff, too, and we both had a moment of bliss.
But that’s not bad enough. Later today, after the adorable, chubby-legged and gummy-grinned boy had been reunited with his mother, I wandered upstairs and had to fight off the temptation to pull out the sheet and smell it again.
This Is How Badly Cait’s Got It
(guest mini-post by Cait, dictated to Jen)
My class of four and five year olds is doing a unit on animals that come from eggs, and in our classroom we’ve been observing caterpillars as they grow and change. On Thursday I got to work early because my class was going on a field trip and I had lots to prepare. When I peeked over at my chrysalides to see how they were doing, I saw that the first butterfly had emerged and was quietly hanging on the side of the enclosure waiting for its wings to dry. I of course immediately called Jen to say “I’m a butterfly mama!” Then, ignoring all the work that I had to do to get ready for the day, I made sugar water to feed it and called every passerby into the classroom to observe my baby butterfly. All done on the verge of tears.
Somebody get us a baby, quick!
Top 10 Worst Dressed
You know your wardrobe is in bad shape when you need to get pregnant in order to dress better.
In the last couple of weeks before the miscarriage, two of my friends gave me their maternity clothes as I was beginning to have trouble fitting into my clothes. I never wore any of them, and they sat in a bin in the corner of the bedroom for months. A couple of weekends ago I was finally able to deal with them, and I sorted through them to see what I might someday want, organized them, wrapped them up, and put them in the basement for storage. I discovered that my maternity wardrobe will be larger, more varied, and more fashionable than my current clothing.*
*In my defense, I hate to shop and I am stingy. I would never go buy myself 20 different tops, several dresses, and an array of jeans, shorts, and pants.