My 666th post

...will probably seem just as banal as the previous 665, but we're going to do it anyway.

I am still pregnant and it looks like this is probably going to persist for another 5.5 months or so until my body forcibly ejects the thing and it begins to breathe on its own. I sit here and marvel at how the changes are taking place, and yet how slowly it all seems to be going.... and then I realize I'm really, seriously delusional and if I had any idea what kind of chaos was going down in my womb I would not be impatient for new developments.
At one point I was wandering aimlessly in the corporate kitchen at work feeling the tendons stretch out in a really unnerving and aching fashion and thinking "God I wish this would go faster."
Then I realized what I was saying... and immediately mentally kicked myself in the head.
Wishing time away is really just about the dumbest thing ever. And I know this. I know that everything I am, sitting here typing these things out, is because of alllll the crap I waded through to get to this point. Future me will be the result of all of this PLUS whatever is coming that I am not psychic enough to brace for/change. At some point I'll start to realize, as I am with everyting else everybody just repeats endlessly, that I'll blink and the baby that's sitting inside of me now will be off to college, barely calling, and occasionally remembering to ask for money.
There's some space in between where I can really screw him up, yes. And I can't possibly imagine what sort of person will come from my parenting skills and moral decisions, but really I'd like to be as mindful as possible for the whole thing.
So I just sit there and moan a bit when the tendons hurt, or when I can't digest something well, or when I can't sleep because I have the Martian Flu and the doctors won't prescribe me anything for it (true story, I've been sick for 9 days now). When I can't sit up because the tendons hurt and the muscles in my back are so tight that it seizes, that's a part of the process too. When I just want to come home and have a bubble bath, and my spouse is there to pour it for me and is sweet enough to remember my tiara and the really good bubbles... there is that. It's all just moments that we can give meaning to or not. I don't want to hurry any of them along if I can help it.
There is SOME good news... the nausea that plagued me is mostly gone, although I have discovered that if I stand in the hot sun and bend over a lot, it hits me like a mother f***ing MAC truck and it takes me half an hour to cool off enough that I don't want to hurl my guts.
Have I mentioned that I'm currently proud to have not actually thrown up once? Yup. Just extreme amounts of nausea. In hindsight it probably would've been wiser to just go and throw up, then the nausea would've died down for a bit. Oh well.
In addition to that, I'm finding that yes, my energy IS returning to me finally, and my drive to make stuff is about to drive me bonker-nuts. I wish I weren't so damn sick still, because I would turn this to good use. Just more hurrying up and waiting until I'm all healthy again. Blah.
In other non-entity-creating news, I learned how to weave last week with my mom and my buddy Heather. It was actually really fun and I'm glad we did it. I ended up buying a loom and bringing it home, and I'm currently in the middle of screwing up my first unsupervised project. I had set it up to weave an alpaca baby blanket, and accidentally cut a few of the warp threads too short.
*SIIIIIIIIIGH*
I can fix it, thankfully, because I was shown how to do so during the class. But it really took the wind out of my sails and made me realize I was putting it on the loom wrong. Somehow I remembered it being totally different from what we seem to have been shown (at least on the videos I looked up on YouTube.) So I'll fix it tomorrow, and probably not get to actually do any weaving until next weekend.
Next weekend, btw, is my natal day. I requested off and was granted it off thankfully. We have a day of many shenanigans planned and I am looking forward to it. It also starts to really mark the final countdown to my exit there and entrance in to the world of the arts.
Bob and I talked finances, and... no pressure.... but basically anything I make would be wiggle room. I'm also going to have to cut down my comics reading by a LOT. I can manage it, there are a handful I really want to stick with. It just makes me feel kind of selfish to want to keep any at all, knowing we'll be having a really thin budget. Like... this is our last big bang, this summer. Everything after this will require a lot of budgeting and constant planning. I've been very lucky up until now.
I'm a little worried, yeah. But I think once we're IN it, we'll see that it isn't so bad and I'll calm down a lot. At least, this is my hope. Meanwhile, I am thinking of 80 million things to make or do to help make money and give us more wiggle room. I did pretty damn well when I was on unemployment, I think we'll manage again. It's just scary as all get out. And I feel a touch selfish for wanting to do this, in case it doesn't work.
I can always go back to work after the baby's born, I guess. I just want to be the one to take care of him instead of paying some total stranger. *sigh*
On that note, I should go to bed. I'm stressed and in need of sleep. My brain will work things out overnight and in the morning I'll have a subconscious game plan and be calmer. I have decided this.
Night!