still my baby

Overall, this pregnancy's been okay. I'm still not yet feeling like I've been pregnant forever, and will be pregnant forever; instead of thoroughly bemoaning my beefy self, I'm mostly just averting my eyes; tiredness has not been a big problem. (I can remember with Lizzy, there were days at work I just wanted to crawl under my desk and take a nap. I think I even tried it, one time.)

There are things I miss, though. Now that the 'hint of summer' season is upon us -- at least, occasionally -- I could really go for a margarita. I'm much more of a summer alcoholic drink kind of person. But it's not that big a deal.

I miss doing active things, not that I have much opportunity for them these days anyway. It's a bummer, though -- recently, Lizzy's gotten into actual sports! Not in an organized fashion yet, but she's got a little pink baseball mitt, and she enjoys playing catch. She's always had a good little arm on her; now we're working on the catching part. She's getting the hang of it. And our neighbors have a (lowered) basketball hoop in the street, which she likes to try using sometimes. She tells me she made one a couple of weekends ago. I'm so proud just to see her try and try, and not get too frustrated. I wish I could lift her up and help her make one up high, as she'd like me to do. But I've explained that I'm not supposed to lift her these days, and she understands. She's been very good about it.

I didn't realize what I'd miss the most, though. Those times of picking her up and holding her are like nice, long cuddle-hugs. She still gives me hugs, of course, but when I'm kneeling down (no easy feat in itself these days) and she's all wiggly and ready to go onto the next thing, it's definitely not the same.

I carried her into the house a couple of weeks ago from the car. I know I shouldn't have, but she'd fallen asleep, and Matt was busy with something else, and I wanted to try. I got her upstairs without too much drama. It just felt so good to have her in my arms, her holding onto me, trusting me completely.

I'd never before really appreciated the power of touch. I remember occasionally missing that after a relationship would end -- that I didn't have anyone with that comfort factor any more. No one to hold hands with and whatnot. I'm really dreading the age -- coming soon -- when Lizzy is too big a girl to want to be tickled and held and hugged a lot. I remember lots of times, my mom wanted me to come sit on her lap, and she attempted a little cuddle, while I inwardly rolled my eyes and put up with it for a few seconds. I don't remember how old I was -- is Lizzy there yet?

Thank goodness that another hapless little babe is on the way for me to torture in similar manner. I'm not ready to let go of those years quite yet.