I feel grrrrrrreat! I just ran for the first time in months. Being high risk in pregnancy (fallacy, in the end) was the worst hell ever, as I doubt that my heart rate ever got over 80. Walking, skiing and skating are not enough exercise, in my book.
Hungry Hippo is with the Brooks Bunch, and I have a night to myself. Matt is in Chicago for a CLE class, so I've been on baby duty ... alone ... for three days. Akk! Tonight I cleaned the house top-to-bottom, read a little Brothers Karamazov (being so short on time, I'm sticking with the classics, huddled over tomes of prose with my pince-nez, for the next 18 years) and ran. Now I'm drinking wine. Go mommy, go.
Hippo and I have had a great time together. I miss him when he's gone. We've hired a part-time nanny (know-it-all) who relieves me occasionally so I can write and think (and do laundry). When Sam returns to me he's in high spirits, and it makes me feel warm and alive. I wuv him.
We've ventured out for mommy's coffee every morning (coffee is all I have until dinner these days). We took a walk on the Monon yesterday with dear, sweet Kev. It was wonderful catching up, having the two meet. I think Kevin is a saint, and undoubtedly the kindest soul I've ever met. Hippo slept, but if I know Kevin like I think I know Kevin, he left his mark with his voice alone.
Matt escaped the seminar crowd last night and got out for some Blues. We text-messaged (verb) through Hippo's slew of bottles, and missed each other electronically. We're never apart, so it's weird hearing the house creak and Sam coo, knowing I'm alone for task. Sam slept on Matt's side of the bed the other night for a while, and I, happily leaning on my wrist and elbow in pain, stared at him and cooed along. I whispered, "I love you...and I love your daddy." Sam got that little smile on his face, which I refuse to believe is a gas pain.
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