Astonishing revelations

It's beginning to seem like every pregnancy, I have a moment where I experience the blinding realization that I'm pregnant. Oh really, Captain Obvious? you might say. Have you been talking about anything else for the past three months?

But the thing is that despite the inconveniences of morning sickness and first trimester exhaustion, my life doesn't change much when I'm pregnant, at least not for quite a while. I don't drink alcohol and don't eat most of the forbidden foods. The cat boxes have been 's job all along. I don't have a huge stomach getting in my way or making me move differently. But eventually, a few months in, I finally come up against the fact that I'm pregnant and therefore can't do things the way I used to.

Last time it was at 27 weeks, on the day when I first started experiencing the joy of pubic bone pain. We had gone to Sears to buy a garage door opener and after buying it, left me with it while he went to get the car. I was looking at the box and thinking of picking it up and moving it, when it occurred to me that I was six months pregnant. And therefore perhaps I shouldn't attempt to pick up the big heavy box by myself. My brilliance, it dazzles sometimes.

This time, it's hitting me a bit earlier. I've been caught in a mental tug of war over my work schedule lately. I really want to start going to church more, which means I need to schedule fewer Sundays. But that means working more Fridays, which I'm starting to hate because I have to get up early and work a full day at the library, then go home and work another four hours. Last week, I treated myself to a sick day from the online job so I would be able to go home from work and be done, and oh, it was heavenly. This week, I was regretting that a bit because I'm actually sick, but it would start to look rather suspicious if I started taking serial sick days right before every weekend. I was thinking about this last night, dreading the thought of going to work today, when I realized, Hello, you're pregnant. Maybe it's a bit much to expect myself to be able to work 14 hour days. And the fact that I'm dreading the weekends and feeling like they're slowly killing me is probably a good sign that perhaps my body, busily engaged in growing an entire human being, has enough on its plate without being abused further.

Apparently pregnant women need extra rest. Shocking, no?

In any case, I've decided to try and minimize my Friday shifts, even if that means working more Sundays (Saturdays are problematic given that works some Saturdays as well). I'm also going to make a bigger effort to get more work done during the day, since I've fallen in the bad habit of using the day when K is at daycare to do chores and run errands, and then doing my actual work at night. There's nothing necessarily wrong with this, except for when I run up against a day where I can't sleep in. So a bigger effort to be diurnal on Thursdays will help as well.

I've been thinking a lot about how next year is going to go in terms of work and child-wrangling. I've more or less come to the conclusion that I'm going to give up the online job (although I'm holding off on saying anything about that because 's contract is up at the end of June and given the budget issues, the negotiations for the new contract are not going to be amicable, to say the least). I should check to make sure, but I'm fairly certain that because I was hired as a contractor, the only time off I'll get is the three weeks of unpaid time they allow per year. I can't put a three week old baby in daycare, and my experience of attempting to work and take care of a newborn last time is that while some people may be able to do both well, I'm not one of them. It won't be a problem to get time off from the library, so I'll keep that job, which will get me out of the house and talking to adults but still have the benefit of time at home with the baby.

I was incredibly and pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from the public preschool we applied and got waitlisted for last year, saying that all I had to do to get considered for this year is fill out a short update form. Since age is given first priority, it shouldn't be a problem to get K in this time, and I'm so happy not to have to fill out another gigantic, byzantine government form (especially given that it's tax season). I had been mildly panicking over what to do with K this summer, given that we can't afford her daycare if I'm not working and when I have a newborn is when I'll want her out of my hair the most, when I discovered that the city rec center closest to us has a summer day camp for children 4-10, which K will be just in time. Every day from 9-2, incredibly cheap - my dream come true.