9:48 a.m. - 2006-06-20
Toenails, etc.
It's been hard to concentrate lately, since ALL I'M THINKING ABOUT IS MY ENORMOUS STOMACH. There have been things I've wanted to write about, but somehow, the connection between thinking and doing has been severed, or at least interrupted by visions of ice cream and similar.
I've finally gotten over the guilt of not being as productive as I once was. The old me spent weekends doing something every second -- errands, working, socializing, cleaning (um, ok, not so much). The new me spends the bulk of her time on the sofa, glued to the Discovery channel, pondering walking all of 20 feet to the pool but deciding it's too hot, so maybe let's just have a glass of lemonade and a nap instead. And this past weekend, I finally decided -- it's ok! At what other point in my life will I have this luxury anyway? So, that's exactly how this weekend's time was passed, with several bowls of ice cream thrown in for good measure.
I did spend some time at the pool, and instead of wearing tutu tankini, I donned my old string bikini. It was liberating. My once-cute innie belly button has decided to pop out like a turkey timer, and there's a vast expanse of pasty white where my once-defined waistline used to be, but I didn't care. I felt very stared-at by the lifeguard, who surely has not seen such a sight in her native Slovenia, but it felt good. Pumpkin likes the pool, I've discovered. As soon as I get myself settled into a lounge chair, she starts getting all squirmy. Could the sunlight be too bright for her? Could she be practicing her crawl stroke? Or (most likely), is she feeling humiliated by her fat mother, who actualy dares to wear a revealing swimsuit in such an obscene public display? If I listen closely, I might be able to make out "Mother! You're embarrassing me!" from my womb.
We also had my family over Sunday evening for a Father's Day dinner that I threw together at the last possible second -- lasagna -- and turned out to be pretty damn good. Shay and I were having a detailed discussion of the merits of changing table vs. dresser in the baby's room, when Grandma chimed in that she had recently lost her big toenail, and had to get four painful injections at the nail site. That about put an end to the shrimp cocktail hors d'oeuvres course.
