Wow it's a dreary day today here at Chez Maude. I had my birthday party last night. It was wonderful. The J cleaned most of the house. But, per S.O.P., everything that we couldn't deal with in 5 hours time when into one of two rooms, so those rooms are yet trashed again until such time as we can sit and deal with them.
But the kitchen is clean. The bedroom is clean. Things are off the floor in the common living spaces, so that's a giant relief right there. However, I VOW to have all of this shit taken care of before the new year, and I'm going to put the J's butt to work over break when he's home.
I wish I could report that now that I've hit 12 weeks that the morning sickness has gotten better, but that's not really the case. It's perhaps a little different now. It's not quite as immediate in the morning. It seems to be hitting later these last two mornings, but it's still there, annoying me.
On our way to CrossFit yesterday morning I was bemoaning the fact that I've already gained 15 pounds (which *all* the books and interwebz say that I should have only gained 5 pounds the first trimester), the J pointed out that it was actually amazing that I had *only* gained 15 pounds. He correctly pointed out that with the way that I've been eating over the last 6 weeks, it should be more like 30 pounds. And he's right. While I'm trying not to be obsessed about my body, my belly is getting rounder; it's getting that "pregnant" shape which is hopefully making me look more pregnant than just flabby.
I know I said that I'd try not to let this become a maternity blog, but I honestly was not expecting this consume my entire life and affect everything that I do. I think I expected some kind of grad school analogy, like this was going to be like coursework or something. You know, something that's time consuming but hasn't quite defined one yet. But this is more like dissertation work. Remember eating, sleeping, breathing the diss? Law & Order marathons to escape the diss? Total exhaustion that even with the best intentions to take care of oneself, which would mean more productivity, goes out the window? Living in piles of books and paper and clutter? That's what this feels like to me. I felt I was defined by being a dissertator in the last years of grad school. Now I find myself defined by my morning sickness, extremely tender boobs (good god, I have never known such pain as what I feel most days in my boobs. If it were cold enough here that I'd be in multiple layers, I'd consider teaching without a bra despite the enormity of these monsters), and the physical limitations of my body*. I didn't think this would happen, like the dissertation process, until much later.
What I have found though, and what I'm thankful for, is that my friends, even the ones without children, are extremely supportive and interested in this whole process. Though like the dissertation, I feel bad talking about it unless others bring it up. So I guess it's been good in that respect.
There's only one thing, thankfully, that I need to get done today: finish Henry James. I should read what I'm teaching in the survey class tomorrow, but I need to read James today. I won't have the opportunity during my office hours tomorrow because at least four students have indicated that they are coming by with drafts of their lit analyses, so I'm assuming that my afternoon will be filled with that. And upon immediately finishing James, I need to jump right in and start on the next thing that I'm teaching after the break. I want to see if over break I can't finish prepping for the quarter for the survey class, and get ahead in the novel class, because at some point I've got to start thinking about that conference paper I need to write by April and those articles that I need to write. So the plan for break will be in getting the place set up and organized and cleaned, thus with the idea of maximizing productivity.
On top of all of that, one of my friends is selling her house. It is by far the first house that we've looked at (on-line at least) that I've fallen in love with. It's within our price range, and they are very very motivated to sell (not that I want to take advantage of my friend, but if they're willing to work with us, damn, how can we pass that up?). I have no idea if we'll even qualify for a home loan right now. But the J is supposed to look into this tomorrow. Plus we need to find out if our landlord will let us out of our lease if we buy a home. I think that the mortgage would be lower than our rent, too. I don't want to get excited because we may not even be able to get a loan, but I love her house. And it would be nice to be settled into our own place before the Magpie arrives than to do it later or after s/he gets here. Even though I'm not excited about the thought of packing and moving, I really want this house. But I want to find out if we qualify for the loan before I even look at it. I'd hate to fall head over heals with it in person and find out we can't get it. But we did qualify for a car loan, so I don't know. Anyway, I want this house.
On that note, I shall go do my best with the James and see if I can't plow through that business today and be done with it for good for the week.
*I hit a PR in my workout yesterday. I've been struggling with overhead squats since day 1, but I squatted heavier and did more reps than I ever had. Safely of course and without discomfort.
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