Keanu Reeves as "Neo"

Our sweet Pud is well on his way to being named Neo, because he seems to think he’s starring in the Matrix movies.  He’s probably just excited that his little eyes have been opening up this week, so that his retinas can begin developing.  He’s still considered to be about the length of an eggplant, head to rump- but he’s heavier than last week, weighing in at over 2 pounds.

This week has been both exciting and long.  My struggle to stay hydrated in this sudden shift to extremely hot temperatures led to some dehydration and a day at home with Gatorade and water on Monday.  This is a digression, but I don’t like the new Gatorade choices.  I liked grape Gatorade Rain- the only type I’d drink for a really long time.  If it’s basically sugar water with salt, maybe I can whip up my own version with the help of my friend, the Kool-Aid Man.

Tuesday, I started teaching a math class during my morning work hours, so my kiddos, partner in crime and I are getting used to the change from my being with them all morning long every day. 

Wednesday night proved to be the night for a scene in “If My Life Was a Movie”.  Our A/C froze up on the side of the house where sleep happens.  B graciously allowed me to put a fan right up next to the bed, directed fully upon me.  It helped for about 3 hours.  I woke up at 2 AM: Hot. Congested. Experiencing indigestion.  Starting to deal with restless legs. 

I was miserable

Sweet B has always liked being slightly hot when he’s sleeping, so he slumbered on.  Lucky duck. 

I went to the other side of the house and drank as much water as I could hold, sat in the papasan, and about cried from exhaustion.  Thursday, I knew, I would have math class again, and I needed to be there for the kids because my partner was being observed teaching parent time for her professional development credit.  I looked down beside me at the dog bed.  Next thing I know, I’m picking up the blanket that’s always on the papasan, draping it over the dog bed, pulling out the two pillows that are also kept in the papasan, and curling up for as much sleep as I can muster in the coolest, most comfortable place I can find.  I now know why Bandit LOVES the papasan cushion-dog bed. 

About the time I started to get into some serious sleep, I woke up to Callie’s curious warm breath on my nose and concerned tongue licking my mouth as she sniffed carefully to be sure I wasn’t sick or something.  I said, “Hi, Callie.  You can join me.”  She responded by circling the scrap of dog bed remaining in front of my belly and curled up- right on top of Pud.  Comfortable?  Not exactly.  Too tired to care?  Definitely.  So I drifted back off to sleep.  It was Pud who finally said he’d had enough and woke me up by kicking on my bladder.  And so the night went on.  I eventually crawled back into our bed when the A/C kicked back on at long last. 

Thursday, the lawn guys finally came.  This was majorly wonderful relief for me, because I couldn’t get the whole darn thing done in one go- and it isn’t a big yard.   We also got to go re-visit a house we’re looking at that’s going to cut down on B’s drive dramatically.  My parents joined us, because we had talked with them about this house last weekend after we saw it on Saturday.  We’re thinking very carefully about it, but we have some more houses to look at tomorrow.  Gotta have backup plans, and, as B says, “Who knows?  We might see another we like even better.”

During the drive home, my sweet husband and I were talking about how difficult sleep has been lately.  Know what I learned?   His goal is to try to get to sleep before I do, because apparently I have a new curse since pregnancy: loud, extremely resonant snores. 

Oh my word. 

He laughingly said he thought it was Pud’s way of preparing him for losing sleep once he is born.  At least B’s still got a good sense of humor about it, despite his own loss of sleep.  I’m grateful he still finds the pregnant me to be extremely attractive, because there are days- congestion, snoring, gas, indigestion, overheating, itchy heat rashes, constant need for water and a toilet, swelling up like a marshmallow Peep in a microwave, and pure exhaustion- that I feel SO FAR from being even remotely attractive.  It’s a good man who finds this changing body to be beautiful despite all the inconveniences. 

Today, B had some surprise plans for my day: he called the air conditioning guys to come and make sure that it doesn’t freeze up again.  It’s fixed, and I’m grateful.  So very grateful.  His rationale was simple and along the lines of “if Mama ain’t happy- ain’t nobody gonna be happy” or, if you prefer, “happy wife, happy life.”

While I was waiting on the A/C guy to finish his job, I happened to check outside on the porch, and saw a flower box on the porch.  My little brother, who is a great brother anyway, pulled one of his “out of thin air” super sweet and thoughtful moves on me.  The box contained lilies and tulips that are ready to bloom when they’ve had a good drink of water and a note: “You’re special and I love you.”  I dissolved into tears almost immediately.  I get so used to my family being spread out sometimes, but when I get a card from my brother that says he loves me, I treasure it and miss having him close by.  I think I have just about every “I love you” that you’ve ever written to me, Kiddo.  Thanks for thinking of me and taking the time to pull off such a sweet surprise.  I love you, too.

This week, it’s clear that our dogs are taking turns sleeping on the bed, unless specifically kicked out from the get-go.  Last night, our Bandit was curled up with his head on my belly and snuggled in comfortably while Pud did his evening exercises.  Didn’t seem to bother Bandit a bit that he was being kicked repeatedly.  If he moved at all, he licked my belly and went on resting.  Pud eventually wound down, and both drifted off to sleep.  When I wake up sometime in the night, I discover that Bandit has moved to his bed and Callie has taken over the responsibility of sleeping curled up between me and B, pretty close to my belly.  I guess they’re taking turns watching exceptionally closely over Pud these days.  B wondered aloud this week if they will know when labor starts before I realize it, or not.  Since labor is induced by a series of chemical/hormonal releases, I imagine they will certainly know it’s happening, but whether I will be able to ask them if it’s Braxton-Hicks or the real thing… I wonder, too.  What do you think? 

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