Now that this pregnancy is "full term" I'm more than a little anxious to no longer be pregnant. I'm doing my part by working my tail off (on some days, at least) to make room for the new baby, freeze dinners, etc. Jeremy, either because he senses that life is about to change or because he's upset that I can no longer pick him up for extended periods, has been doing all he can to help this pregnancy end. He wants to scare me into labor.
Yesterday he took his first tumble down the stairs. I was at my mom's house in the afternoon and was coming down the stairs with my hands full of baby announcement paraphernalia when I met Jeremy on his way up. I passed him so I could empty my hands at the bottom of the stairs and come back to grab him, unfortunately we got to the bottom about the same time. Talk about heart-stopping (me, not him).
This morning I got in the shower and left Jeremy locked in the master bedroom
thinking that I had it all child-proofed and he'd be okay for a few minutes. I forgot about the bottle of Tums in my night stand drawer. When I came out he had pastel green drool on his chin and multiple pastel colors on his gray shirt. The bedroom floor was covered in pastel dots: some dry, others (apparently the bad flavors) slobbery and discarded. After a quick panicked accounting, I figured he'd eaten 25 to 30 Tums. Poison Control informed me that he'd had enough calcium for the day and would probably reap the consequences in his diapers today...ill consequences...frequent ill consequences.
Jeremy's napping now, leaving me to ponder my inadequacies and imagine life with double the trouble.
