It's been a long week and I'm tired. So much to write about yet nothing much going on. Class on Tuesday, always a long day. I was able to talk to the professor about next semester. She said no problem, I'd just have to double up on tutoring sessions in the first part of the semester. Also, someone in class asked me if "the daddy was happy?". I had a giggle with that one. I guess he is happy walking around California somewhere with some extra cash in his pocket. What I actually said was my standard line about having the baby on my own.
Wednesday was half day for the kids and we "cooked" a recipe to end our unit on families. The kids each brought in a family recipe and we made a first grade family cookbook. The recipe was just nachos but we had fun. Professional development for the remainder of the day for me. Kind of boring but it was only 2 hours.
Thursday the kids were dismissed one hour early but we had to stay all evening for parent/teacher conferences. A very long day. I'm pretty sure my first parent was high. He kept using my name over and over. "Ms. B. I wanted to come to Real Men Read, Ms. B. but Ms. B. I had a court date, Ms. B." I wanted to ask if the court date was for possession. My second parent was the mother of one of my students who is very low academically. As I was explaining his low test scores, she started to cry and talk about how she's been moving around a lot lately and that Rico had a lot of trauma at birth. God, working in the ghetto sometimes really sucks. It is difficult to remember that even the unstable parents are doing the best they can. The positive thing is that the rest of my conferences were with wonderful, supportive, happy parents.
Today was another half day of conferences and then off at 12. Yay. I met my mom for lunch and then we started the process of remodeling my kitchen. Double yay! This is something I've been wanting to do for a long time and I'm excited to finally be starting the process. We talked to a very good kitchen designer and I'm relieved to be in the hands of a professional. I'm not good at making these big choices and although I've been thinking about this project for a long time I really had no idea what I wanted. I joked that if only someone would combine the styles of arts and crafts, French country and kitschy vintage the choices would be really simple. This designer was able to ask me questions and show me choices that I liked. The decisions to be made don't seem so intimidating now. She's coming next week to measure and talk about layout.
This evening I walked over to the farm and was able to ride a few rounds on the combine with my brother. They literally have a few hours of combining beans left and then this year's harvest will be finished. Everyone will be happy about that. A series of equipment breakdowns has made it a long season this year. E told me this was the fifth combine he's driven this year.
I don't know why it would suddenly hit this week but I'm finding myself lonely for a gentleman's company. I haven't missed or thought much about men at all in months. It's not just sex I'm craving although Lawd knows I'm horny as hell. I'm craving those hallmark moments of intimacy. Someone to caress my pregnant belly and talk to the baby or someone who will calm me down when I'm freaking about potty training, who will say, "Don't worry, we're in this together." I have absolutely no regrets about pursuing motherhood on my own and I think I'll be a good mother. This is just how my life turned out. Not perfect, but I'm lucky to be experiencing a dream come true in whatever form it takes.
On the pregnancy front, hmmm, nothing really new. I'm still burping up a storm and that is still really my only symptom other than a rare upset stomach. Sometimes I think my boobs are getting not bigger but maybe a little firmer. Who knows for sure? One can only fondle one's self so much trying to assess the state of the boobs. Wonder if this means I'll have trouble with milk or feeding.
Otherwise the perpetual freak out continues only milder. My cousin mentioned something about potty training and I thought, "Oh God, I'm going to have to potty train someone." My friend talks about how sippy cups drip all over the place and roll under the couch until they stink and have to be thrown out. My thought? "My home is going to be sticky for years." All in good fun now. Still feeling unprepared but can laugh about it and know that I'm learning. The biggest part of me yearns for all this and more. Bring on motherhood! Ready or not!!