The trouble with being an introverted parent

Toddler is off with her grandparents for an evening of pizza, Easter Bunny photo ops, and being a mallrat (which at her age means hitting the play area, riding the train, and getting a cookie the size of her head adorned with twice its weight in frosting). Daddy is off having a belated birthday dinner with his father, having been too busy welcoming his own son into the world to celebrate his actual birthday. It took me forever to get them both out of here.

Mommy come too?

You sure you don't want to come?

Yes, quite. I just want to eat cheese and crackers and fun-sized Mounds in bed while binge-watching Bones. Wash a load or two of clothes. Snuggle with my baby without anyone getting jealous. And I really want to not talk for a few hours...that sounds like heaven.

It really doesn't take much to make me happy. It's just that they are things that are hard to come by as a parent.

Countdown to C-Day

I've had my last prenatal checkup. Worked my last day until June. Had maternity pics taken. Knocked out almost all of the last-minute to-dos. Five days from now, I will hold my son in my arms.

I find I am no less excited, or scared, than I was last time. I had not expected that.

While I will miss sharing space with my little zen guy, I am looking forward to being able to reach my feet again. And I am sure he will be far more comfortable when he can stretch out a bit more.

It's not new, but nor is it completely familiar. And there is an added air of sadness. This is one of the last days Anya will be an only child. One of the last times I will feel a baby move in my belly. The last Friday night for a long while that it will be just us girls. We are embarking on a new stage in our lives, and it is exciting and terrifying. I am hopeful, but also (already) wistful for these moments I will never get back.

And hormonal as hell, in case you'd not noticed.

I may not be great about updating for a while, but I will be back. Hopefully before June.

What I get for trying to be frugal

After showering last night, I decided to use up the last of a bottle of baby oil I received as part of a baby shower present for Anya. Aside from one bout of cradle cap, I never really used it on her, and I have another huge bottle should the baby require such treatment. Plus, I have had crazy dry skin as of late. The kind that keeps me up half the night itching, when I'm already not sleeping well. So I lubed myself up like a wrestler. My thirsty skin sucked in the oil immediately; rather than feeling greasy, I felt...well, baby soft. So I had high hopes for this stuff.

I still scratched all night.

When I got up this morning, I realized why:

I guess last night's itch-induced insomnia was not without reason. And now I can add another product to the no-fly list. This is why I make my own...

A photo posted by Nicole (@nmb1974) on Mar 2, 2015 at 6:30am PST

Time to make my own baby oil, I guess.