Date With My Husband and Realities of Pregnant Life

I got to have a date morning with Peter today. We don't get to have these too often, but once in a while Peter has a week day off and then we can drive Kai to daycare and enjoy the morning with just the two of us. Of course, dropping Kai off with Peter is a very different experience from dropping Kai off without him. By the time we got there this morning, all the kids were in the gym. And the gym had basketball hoops. And balls. Peter's eyes lit up and he immediately became one of the 2-year-olds (as opposed to his usual well composed 5-year-old). I was a little bit worried I might not be able to get him out of there, but once he slammed dunked a few with Kai he was fairly satisfied. By then all the kids either swarmed around him or were demanding their poor teacher would lift them up so they could slam dunk too. I don't think she cares to see Peter back anytime soon.

We went to Kreuzberg cafe that we both love. I suppose it's partially a European thing. It looks like a place you could find in Europe. They have a bunch of photographs of writers on the walls, cool art and collection of furniture that works rather well together. They have book shelves with books and cliff notes. We picked cliff notes to Catch-22 to look through. Peter seemed a bit surprised when I told him I read the book several times, but where else can you find characters like Major Major, who only lets people to come see him when he is not in?

We stopped at the vet on the way home to buy cat food. Our male cat Marzipan went through a difficult life period recently. He was traumatized by another person that lives in this house, whose name starts with K, ends with I and has three letters. As a result he started having peeing accidents (I am referring to the cat, even though it could also apply to the three-letter named person), which in return traumatized us. See the picture below. 


So now we strictly offer a veterinarian approved urinary diet. Whether it's the food or not, the peeing accidents have stopped, at least the ones caused by the cat. While waiting there, Peter picked up a National Geographic and read out loud that elephants are pregnant for 21 months. I considered feeling bad for them, but nowhere in the article did it say anything about morning sickness, so I decided to save the energy for pitying myself instead. 

The one thing I have in common with elephants is that I think I am becoming one. With Kai I was as big as I am now probably 3 days before giving birth. The expansion of boobs is great. I've said it before and I will keep saying it for the rest of the days - it's the best part of pregnancy. It gets better though once the kid is out and I can also have a waist. It's esthetically more pleasing, in my opinion, plus it helps to be able to breathe again and perform simple tasks like putting your shoes on or walking 100 yards without needing to take a four hour nap.

The one thing I have in common with a traumatized cat and a toddler is that I am leaking a little. This is a very unpleasant topic to talk about, so of course I must cover it to keep the integrity of this blog. Unlike the traumatized cat and the toddler, I don't leave puddles on the floor, which is a good thing, but I am afraid things are just not as tight and in shape as they should be. I am not a fan of Kegel exercises, not unless there is actually something worth squeezing (ehm ehm, OK, maybe that's too much information, but just think about the integrity). I am still trying to pretend that maybe it's not urine at all, but that's just me trying to hold on to the last shreds of dignity I have remaining. 

The pregomentia is in full effect - I managed to leave my iPhone on the roof of my car while putting the kid in the car seat and then drove away, having it fly off the roof once on the freeway and shatter to dust. Well, maybe not dust, but there was not much that could be done as far as CPR goes. Bye bye, iPhone, my best electronic device friend. 

And last but not least, I spend most of my days dropping things on the floor and then picking them up just so I can drop them again. Which makes me tired. Which makes it necessary to take a nap. Which makes me frustrated I don't get anything done. Which makes me unfocused and causes me to drop things. 18 more weeks to go. Oh dear.

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