Monday I had another midwife appointment and got to hear Bidou's heartbeat again. Everything looks good and healthy. And I still LOVE my midwifes and want to bring them all home with me to live on a commune. They're that awesome. It helped a little that she said "Your weight looks really good!" which, frankly, might be the first time anyone in the medical profession has ever said that. But it's true for me that I'm not gaining NEARLY as much with Bidou as I did with Lucy. I'm sure the fact that I'm in generally much better shape factors in, but really, I just don't have the time to sit and stuff my face like I want to/would do if Lucy wasn't around. That said, I'm 15.5 weeks and have gained 5lbs. Let's keep on this trajectory, shall we, Bidou? Keep asking for more apples and being ambivalent about the ice cream, mmmmmmkay?
I don't even know what happened the rest of the days that have gone by. So I guess that means that's when I busted my butt unpacking a bunch of boxes. I also started making nutritious food a priority again. We've been living on pizza and takeout and cold cut sandwiches and peanut butter. This week, I have been cooking healthy things again: spicy peanut sauce on soba, curry with chickpeas and spinach. Even without my measuring cups (I can't find them. Who packed this house up, anyway?). Tonight I can't decide whether I want to do the step-intensive lasagna, or the cutting/prep-intensive stew. A nap sounds better than both, really.
Speaking of sleep, we haven't been getting much around here lately. Lucy's transition to the new house is (I believe) complete, now. She woke up with a nasty cold on Monday morning and HOO BOY the combination has been a battle. It's hard to classify when she's acting out because she doesn't feel well, and when it's because she's out of her routine. And then I don't know whether to introduce an Activity like the Let's Put Clothes Away In Drawers to help her with the transition or if it's going to backfire and overwhelm her under-the-weather self which inspires even more vicious behavior on her part. Conversely, do I medicate her when I should be finding books for her to unpack? It's always a crap shoot. And I'm about 65-35 on the losing side of the bets. At least she's started sleeping mostly through the night again and not waking up and freaking the freak out over every new noise. Mostly.
So, we're in. We're in this new house, and we're enjoying the new space. The living areas are just so *livable* and the bedrooms are comfy and we have no share-the-walls-or-floor neighbors to worry about when Lucy gets a stroke of Must Play the Piano and Sing right when she wakes up at 6:30. We love the yard and walking the neighborhood. It's grand, really.
Even despite the boxes yet to be unpacked.