So, yeah, I haven’t been writing much. The first trimester is kicking my arse. Our day goes something like this:
6:45 a.m. Violet calls “Maaaama!” I lay in bed weakly munching a bit of rice-cake and sipping water while Rob gets her out of her crib.
7 a.m. Yes, it takes me 15 minutes to battle my stomach before I can get up. I sneak off to the kitchen to make cereal before Miss Leggy McCling finds me. Then we watch Sesame Street. Usually Rob takes her for a jog during this time. This is when I take the fastest shower ever, throw on some clothes and try to stop looking green.
8 a.m. Daddy leaves. (Noooooo!!!) I lay on the floor and let Violet watch too much TV. Thankfully she’s not terribly interested. We usually go outside. I sweat. Violet tries to eat plants and swim in the water table.
9 a.m. Must. Go. Somewhere. The gym, preschool, playgroup, the park. Just somewhere, before our heads explode.
11 a.m.-12:30 p.m. Come home. Give Violet food, a bath (or hose her off in the backyard), books, milk, nap. I fly around the house doing dishes, laundry, prepping dinner, maybe shower, repack diaper bag, etc. Usually I have some kind of editing job I need done yesterday.
1:30 p.m. Fall into a coma on the sofa.
2:30 p.m. “Maaaaama!” Diaper, snack, outside.
3:30 p.m. See 9 a.m.
5:30 p.m. Come home, feed the girl. Try to start dinner with Miss Clingy McWhine underfoot. Resort to Baby Crack, I mean, Baby Einstein.
6:00 p.m Lay on the floor.
6:30 p.m. Rob comes home. We eat. Violet tries to sit on my lap at the dinner table.
7:00 p.m. I give Violet a bath. I do this because it’s easier for me to sit on the bathroom floor rather than clean up the food I can barely look at. Rob does this.
7:30 p.m. Hand off a squeaky clean and diapered baby to Rob and go hide in the office where I edit or prepare a lesson plan for my Saturday class.
8:00 p.m. Clean up the rest of the house. Rob goes back to work in the home office.
9:00 p.m Brain shuts down.
10:00 p.m Rob finds me asleep on the couch and sends me to bed.
10:00 p.m. – 6:45 p.m. Sleep. Get up to pee about fifty trillion times. Why is the house so hot?
Actually, I see glimmers of hope. Aside from Rob being the best husband ever, Violet is able to entertain herself for long minutes at a time, and the morning sickness is getting ever so slightly better each day. Currently I’m wondering if I’ll get that second trimester spurt of energy. And if I do, will I notice? Or will Violet steal it?