They say pregnancy makes you feel and do crazy things. It happens so gradually (it takes 40 weeks after all to create a human) that you may not even notice. But to the careful observer, here are some new patterns, quirks and tricks I've had up my sleeves lately, proving I'm on my way to Mommyhood. Drumroll please ...
- I'm single handedly ensuring the word "cute" never goes out of style. EVERYTHING is cute. The onesies, the stuffed animals, the sheets, the rugs, the chairs, the bows, the socks, the diapers, the stroller. EVERYTHING.
- My vocal chords have somehow developed a whole new pitch - perfect for disciplining a misbehaving child. (I belted it out once unexpectedly and Jared and I immediately burst into laughter - frustrated Mom voice is already lurking ... right.beneath.the.surface.)
- I no longer throw out the "junk mail" - there's buried treasure in there! (Can I get a "what what" for coupons!?)
- Once a nuisance to put off as long as possible, my "Type A-ness" has finally overflowed into the car maintenance department, making me as diligent as ever about car safety (so on top of my 5,000 mile tire rotations - and would so do them every 500 if I could.)
- I've bought Pedialyte twice in the last week. (OK so that was due to a nasty flu bug, but still, when given the choice between myriad concoctions from my doctor, I naturally gravitated toward this kid-friendly elixir.)
- I'm starting to be nice to children. OK, that sounds harsh. But really, when I'm running errands and they're in the way, well, they're just ... in the way ... until now. I find myself pausing - even smiling - and acknowledging the little munchkins. They're quite cute (for the most part)!
- I find myself planning kid-friendly outings so my mommy friends can bring their little ones. Dinner at 5 p.m.? No problem! 8 p.m. curfew? That's my bedtime, too!
- I'm developing adult-onset A.D.D., which my mommy friends contest is a natural, not to mention chronic, side-effect of having children. I'm already doing things like putting juice in the cupboard and peanut butter in the fridge, stopping mid-email to check out Shutterfly birth announcements (really? 2 months in advance?), missing exits, and forgetting how old I am. Seriously, what's next?!
- On more than one occasion, I've censored our TV/movie watching "because of the baby." Not that we need gratuitous violence in our home anyway, but protecting our 32-week fetus from a gangster heist? Surely, it's not interrupting her well-padded acrobatics.
- I've started putting zip lock baggies in my purse, "just in case."
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