In what is almost the exact middle of being an incubator, my life – I suddenly realize – is incredibly boring. I got home from work yesterday and folded laundry. I drank some pomegranate juice. Fed the dogs, who do little twirls when I ask, “you ready to eat? you wanna eat?” Then I lit a tealight candle under some Satsuma fragrance oil. I laid in the sunspot in the nursery and drifted off into a very light, peaceful sleep, Zoey by my left arm, Todd at my right, and Iggy curled up into the belly of Todd. Throw in some mac and cheese and butter beans, an hour or two of Everquesting and a 10 o’clock bath and that was my Monday evening. Ash and I even crawled into bed before 11, which is nearly unheard of.
I suppose some could say that they envy those 6 hours I spent doing little things that can and inevitably do bring a sense of happiness and zen to your life. I’m sure that in 5 months, when I am grasping for a mere ten minute power nap while the baby – finally – finds sleep, I’ll be looking back at the mundane days before the birth and relish in their memory. For now, I suppose I should try to bask in them, for they are fleeting and caught up in the ever present march of time.