Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve finally figured it out. All this time I was waiting to nest, hoping I’d get everything done around the house that needs to be done: wash the dishes, wash the clothes, put away the clothes, clean out the fridge… I even made a list of stuff to do so that when the urge struck, I wouldn’t forget anything. I never once took into account that who I am is so deeply ingrained that I don’t nest like most human beings.
We talked once about how I don’t operate within the bounds of the normal spheres other people exist in. It never occurred to me, though, that it’s in my nature to think unnecessary things are absolutely necessary. I stopped for a moment today and realized that I’ve been nesting for the last two days.
These are the things I’ve accomplished:
- Finished reading the box of comic books my friend lent me.
- Found two pairs of socks for the hospital.
- Grocery-shopped for pasta salad stuff.
- Transfered the latest pictures from the camera to the computer.
- Organized them in the Pictures folder.
- Uploaded a few to facebook.
- Emailed two friends.
- Decided to get my hair cut.
- Wrote a blog entry about nesting.
Something I’d forgotten about the last time I was pregnant: the incredibly weird, incredibly vivid dreams.
You may ask, “What do you mean by weird, eden?” Let me give you some examples and let you decide.
Weird Dream #1 (Current Pregnancy):
I’m at a three-star (at least) restaurant with some of my high school classmates and Trig/Calculus teacher. Our food won’t be finished for a while, so we go to the “Ices” buffet to get a dessert-like appetizer. Those clear-plastic, square drink machines that keep punch swirling and cold are set up in a circle for us to choose from.
“Try the beets,” my math teacher says.
That sounds delicious, so I get a DixieCup and ladle myself a helping of cold prawns and beets (making sure to pick myself out some extra prawns). As I do, I notice a latte-colored substance in the next machine over labeled “Wife,” and decide that if my food doesn’t come before I finish my beets, I’ll come back and get a helping of that.
Back at the table, I start eating my prawns and beets, which are so delicious and so cold (WCWilliams reference #1), I realize that my chicken wellington has been delivered to the girl at my right by mistake, but someone has already eaten all the breading off of it.
“I think that was supposed to be mine,” I say.
Weird, right? And when the dream isn’t just straight-up weird, it’s obscene. Really obscene. I don’t cuss, for reals. But in these obscene dreams, I’ve got a mouth like a sailor or a dockworker or some other clichéd water profession that uses really bad language. Creatively bad language.
Weird Dream #2 (Last Night):
My baby doctor has come to my grandpa’s house in Emden with another maternity patient so that this woman can live out her dream of something or other to do with a farm. Since Dr. S is already there and it’s almost time for my appointment, I assume that she’s going to do my appointment at Grandpa’s house. The patient before me is “Donating Flowers” (putting a bouquet of flowers in the pasture) and doing other generally weird things while my doctor follows her around.
Then, finished, they leave. And I realize I’m going to have to go to Kirksville for my appointment.
Josh and I go outside, but I slip and fall in the mud.
“[Expletive Deleted]!” I yell, realizing I’m going to be late. Then I realize that my OB ultrasound was scheduled for that morning at 10:30 at the hospital and I missed it. “[Expletive Deleted] [Expletive Deleted] [Expletive Deleted], [and so on]!”
[Un]Interesting Side Note: My OB ultrasound and my next doctor’s appointment really are on the same day, the first at 10:30am and the second at 1:30pm.
The food dreams were the worst last year because I was unable to eat anything but cheese sandwiches without getting sick. I’d dream about all those things I loved to eat (not about beets), but couldn’t have and wake up wishing I could. The strangest thing about those dreams was how vividly I could taste the food. Even thinking back now it makes my mouth water.
Weird Dream #3 (Last Pregnancy):
I went to lunch at my high school cafeteria where they are serving pizza, cheese sticks, and blueberry cheesecake, three of my all-time favorite school lunches. I filled up my tray, sat down and ate. It was delicious.
That’s all. I ate it and it was delicious. I have absolutely no doubt that dreaming about sex is directly related to being sexually repressed because when I was dreaming longingly of food I was foodly repressed. (Edibly? It’s hard to say.)
There are a lot of sites (according to Google) which attempt to tell you what your maternity dreams mean (apparently this is a common symptom of pregnancy), but not many places that will list examples. I do, because I care.
Or, “Enis Reloaded”
If you were at the Old Thresher’s in Shelbina this weekend, you may have heard some rumors flying around about me and Joshua. They’re true. Last year we had a baby for my birthday, so this year we’re having one for Josh’s.
Last time that I announced I was pregnant to the internet, I was vomiting uncontrollably and I posted a list of things I didn’t want to forget about my first month of pregnancy. I don’t have one of those today and I’m not vomiting uncontrollably yet, although I’ve been a little queasy on and off the last couple days. What I do have for you today is a list of things I don’t want to forget about this year’s Old Thresher’s.
- This is the last year my Grandpa Smith will be the president of the Old Thresher’s at Shelbina. He’s been the president since the year I was born (possibly even before), and it makes me sick that certain idiots have forced him to decide he can’t put up with their crap anymore. He’s done so much for them, given so much of his time and money. I don’t know what he’ll do without it.
- My sister’s new boyfriend is not as bad as I wish he would be. I wish I could hate him because I loved her fiance. But we all (me, Josh, Emily, Brian, Liz, and James) all camped together this weekend and played a charade/pictionary-type game and had a great time. He plays the guitar and he’s a person and even Oak started laughing at him.
- Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but when they gave Christy Maubach’s sash and crown to her little sister and Bobby (Christy’s dad) went out to join his daughter for a picture, I had to fight to keep from crying. When we were little, the Maubachs were some of my parents’ best friends. I remember specifically staying at their house one night so my parents could fight. By then my mom had already decided she was done putting up with my dad’s drinking. I looked up Christy’s obituary on the funeral home’s website. All grown up she’s someone I’d never recognize, but I do remember that she was a pretty toddler and that Emily named her first baby doll after her. Christy’s mother died of cancer last year, so now it’s just her dad, her sister, and her little brothers. I remember her mother’s face perfectly.
- Oak laughed so hard this morning when Grandpa Smith was playing with him, and all Grandpa was doing was saying, “I’m a-gonna get you.”
- When I let my parents know I was pregnant, my dad said, “You’re knocked up again?” then he told Josh to get his butt in gear finishing our house. When I told Grandpa Smith he acted angry. He yelled, “Another one? When?” and I yelled, “May.” When I told Grandpa and Grandma Hudson, they didn’t get it.