I’m overflowing with fertile signs right now, which means one thing: this is my last spent egg before we get started again. We’ve got all the paperwork in (again), and with any luck, it will go through without a hitch (ha!). Believe it or not, I’m finally starting to get excited about this.
Next week we have our midwife appointment, and that too is thrilling to me. I can’t wait to see what she’s like in person and to feel another surge of positivity. (Who is this person occupying my head?)
I haven’t been temping. I can’t foce myself to wake up and stick a thermometer in my mouth at 5am (which is what I would have to do for any accuracy due to my early morning teaching schedule). I did it for a year, and I’m tired of it. I’ll do it again next month, I suppose, but I’m feeling whiny about it. Do I have to temp? J keeps scolding me, but I’m thinking I want to toss my thermometer out the window and never look back. I’m feeling like taking chances, like I don’t want to be bound to gazing at charts; they only lead to unhealthy obsessive behavior in me. Will someone give me permission not to temp? Please?
Tonight my mom comes for a brief visit, and Saturday we go to see some very dear friends of ours from Humboldt in their new place in a new town. We get to see where their wedding will be–where I will officiate my very first wedding–but more than anything, we get some time with people who have known us for ages, people with whom we can discuss annoying students, unresponsive and apathetic classes, as well as baby plans, homesickness, and all the rest.
Meanwhile, J is in a paper-grading marathon, and I’ve got to clean. First, though, I’m going for a walk. It’s a beautiful fall day, and I need to be out in it.