I've been in such a good mood lately. I got my H1N1 shot (just like winning the lottery!), bought some relatively cute maternity jeans, and only worked three weekdays last week. Good times! Also, the second trimester happy hormones have definitely kicked in. Evidence: I was in the Gap the other day buying the maternity jeans and they started playing Christmas music really loudly. Even though I would normally be filled with rage by hearing Christmas music at this time of year, this time I didn't mind and in fact I actually kind of liked it.
I'm about halfway done with this pregnancy, which seems crazy. It occured to me yesterday that I'm going to be someone's MOTHER and I had a little tiny panic attack. I realize this seems like a pretty obvious science fact but I somehow hadn't thought about it in quite that way, and it made me feel kind of bummed for my kid. I mean, I know the kid could do worse. I like reading books out loud, for example, and I'm crazy about playing pretend and riding dumb rides at amusement parks.
However, it's clear that the real star parent is going to be Mr. A. Here, for example, is an abbreviated list of things that Mr. A can teach/do for TimJim much, much better than I can:
1. Drawing--particularly funny and bizarre cartoons and creatures.
2. Playing guitar. (Also: bass, keyboards, and most other instruments to varying extents.)
4. Snowboarding & skateboarding. (Also: pretty much anything that requires physical agility.)
Not to mention that he's more patient than I am, less prone to sulks, and less addicted to America's Next Top Model despite Tyra Banks' ever-increasing intolerability. Don't worry, I'm not super down on myself--I think I'll muddle through as well as most people, and certainly much better than I would have ten or even five years ago. I guess I just thought I'd have reached some kind of zen plain and attained deep wisdom before I had kids. Somehow this magical transformation has failed to occur.