One of Those Days
I had one of those days today. You know the kind. The kind where you wake up and right off the bat you can’t find the tights that you wanted to wear and your pants are too tight to be appropriately worn in an office. The kind where your breakfast of hot maple and cinnamon oatmeal explodes unexplainably in the microwave, leaving chunks of oatmeal and spice all over the kitchen. The kind where your inbox at work inexplicably eats incoming new emails before you have the chance to read them, leaving you promising all kinds of inappropriate things to the IT guy if he’ll just fix it. The kind where you sit in a “problem-solving” meeting, only to discover that “problem-solving” means your job just became more difficult and time consuming. The kind where you show up to your doctor’s appointment expecting to be rejuvinated by an ultrasound of your Beanie Weenie, but instead you are told by your doctor that you’ve been scheduled for the wrong type of appointment and can you come back next week instead? The kind where that entire box of Cheez-Its you ate for lunch because you didn’t have time for anything else starts to feel like a really bad idea. The kind where you take a 30 minute shuttle ride all the way out to your car from your office at the end of the day only to find that your car keys are still sitting in your office.
Yeah. Its been that kind of day.
My only bright spot was my doctor’s appointment (once I got over the whole your-here-for-no-reason thing…). The doctor wanted to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. And I ain’t complainin’ about that! I love that sound! But the problem was she couldn’t catch him! I knew he was moving around a lot lately because I can feel him rolling around in there, but I had no idea how much he was moving until today! Every time we’d hear one or two heartbeats, he’d roll over to the other side of my stomach and she’d have to chase him with the heartbeat-hearing-machine (very technical name). She’s find him again, we’d get one or two beats, and then he’d roll over to the other side again. It was hysterical! And, I like to think, brilliant. My son is brilliant. He’s already playing hide and seek. Brilliant.
I told Chris the other night that maybe the baby is building his own Man Cave in my belly. Whatever he is doing, he’s working hard at it because he’s moving around like crazy! My BFF, Emily, said he’s like a beta fish. I think that’s a great analogy. Except now when I feel him move, all I can picture is my bright blue beta fish from college, Dave, who had a huge tumor on his neck and eventually died because I went out of town and forgot to feed him.
Hopefully my parenting skills will be better than my beta skills…
5 Comments
goodbadandugly2
Of course your baby Bean is Brillant! He came from YOU didn’t he? 🙂
Anyways, hope tomorrow is better than today was!
emilyroseposts
Let’s try to disconnect the thought of Beta Bean and Beta Dave. (RIP)
Lori
I hope you have a better day tomorrow!
archiveslives
Well, now all I can think about is a blue fish swimming around inside of your stomach, which is way worse than a fetus. Great.
emep
What a terrible fate for that beta. I’m apparently such a bad fish owner, they just decide to end it themselves. I’ve had more than one fish jump right out of the bowl and commit suicide.