March 22, 2013
Hey Winifred
This morning (afternoon) I woke up promptly at 12:30 PM. I like
to sleep in, O.K.? I have no where to be as I am presently blissfully
unemployed (other than, you know, making you), and only have class one day a
week (Thursdays for 3-6 hours). Your Dad makes it possible for me to stay home
and grow a baby/keep up with the house. Mostly I fail pretty hard on that last
front - your production tends to keep me pretty tired (oh, and there is also
the devilish invention of Facebook/the whole internet - the former of which
might be not a thing by the time you read this). I have both procrastination
and preoccupation issues - I imagine this is something you will come to know
about me on your own; which brings me to our morning.
I woke up with the full intention of eating breakfast (I always
do), but first I had to feed the cats, let the dogs out into the yard for a
potty break, and make the flipping breakfast.
One quick aside - in your baking process, you decided it would
be a good idea to make your placenta a kind of hidey-hole (I don’t blame you,
seems like a sound plan). Its got a medical term called “anterior placenta” -
basically, your placenta junk is in the front and not the back. This is common
and happens to lots of ladies when they are making tiny people, but it makes it
so I can’t feel you squirming around as much as those who have their placenta
junk growing posteriorly. Sometimes it worries me because I feel like you
aren’t there. But then other times, like this morning/afternoon, you remind me
that not only are you there, you are a freaking Hulk baby (you’ll know all
about the Hulk). You like to make yourself most known when you are hungry/when
I am hungry - as in, “OMG. BABY HULK SMASH! FEED MY FACE WOMAN!”
This morning, you must have been extra hungry because you were
trying to kick a hole through my uterus so you could come out and make the
oatmeal yourself. You continued to do so from the time I got out of bed until I
had eaten every last bite of my cinnamon oatmeal with walnuts,
raisins, and flax milk, english muffin with hazelnut spread, and
glass of orange juice (note: this is a good breakfast - sometimes we eat things
that are much less good for us).
After we ate, you promptly went back to being hidey-hole baby -
I probably won’t feel you again for the rest of the day as I tend to keep
myself pretty well food-ed whilst I am awake. As powerful and Hulk-like as your
little feet are at times, its pretty awesome when you are kicking the shit out
of me. I hope that soon I am able to feel your Hulk feet on a more constant
basis.
P.S. - (P.S.? Yeah, sure. We’ll go with it. ) Like I said, I am
a chronic procrastinator. I really should be cleaning the house/running errands
presently. But, I thought talking to you seemed like it would be more fun. I
should go now.. really… people are coming over later and there is cat hair
almost everywhere.
This isn’t what we had this morning, but its another example of
a kick-ass (kick-uterus?) breakfast. (That’s soy sausage - I’m sure by now you know
it’s delicious and your parents would never eat the real stuff).
Love,
Mom
