We are still adjusting to life in San Francisco: the neighborhood, the time zone, Rob's new job, my work from home, having a car and therefore being able to go to Trader Joe's whenever we want...standard things. I spend a lot of time inside during the day, which I guess is what anyone who works in an office does, whether that office is a train ride away or just down the hall from the bedroom. I often report to colleagues over the phone that the weather "looks" nice, but I wouldn't really know that from a first-hand perspective.
The baby kicks all the time now. Or maybe she's punching me, I'm not sure. It basically feels like a Taekwando class in there, and I imagine her taking aim and delivering a swift scissor kick as she rolls right to avoid contact with today's chosen nemesis, the umbilical cord. But look out--it's attached to her! So she just has to keep rolling around and kicking. We call her "Little Baby" because we are not feeling more creative than that. I spend my time working out what her actual name will be when she arrives, but that, too, might just be "Little Baby" based on my progress. I recall the skier Picabo Street whose name for something like the first 3 years of her life was "Little Girl." I might be making that up, though, because I see no reference to it on Wikipedia.
I'm taking prenatal yoga classes at a nearby studio, where we start each session by going around the room and sharing things about our pregnancy, so that I know I'm not the only one with insane leg cramps in the middle of the night, occasional crankiness, and a suddenly constant desire to curl into a ball and go to sleep (which I did two days ago on the exam table in my doctor's office, but that's only because they kept me waiting so long.)
I feel very lucky that we're here, that the baby is so far healthy, that all of the unpacked boxes are currently hidden in a room I don't go into very often, that Rob and I have found good Italian, Thai and Indian restaurants in the neighborhood. And that when the baby is born, she'll likely be able to protect me from any adversaries with some well-timed jabs.
Jack is TWO!
10 years ago
2 comments:
We feel lucky too, that you're all nearby, and that goes for Little Baby too. Maybe we can just call her L'il B? Or if we're feeling lazy, LB, or Ellbee. Now there's a name. Have you thought of that one?
xo
yikes! how strange. I'm currently reading a book called Little Bee by Chris Cleave but I don't think it's going to be an uplifting story.
Doesn't matter - I'm calling our baby "cupcake" no matter what you name her. It just makes me happy to think about her kicking you, Sarah!
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