There’s a new game in town, it’s called “Guess the Due Date”—it’s all the rage. What’s your guess?

(We’ll update you with the “official” date after the ultrasound!)

All of your encouraging comments reminded me of something I pondered yesterday — which was not a great day, in case you weren’t clear on that. :)

I’m often thinking about how no one can “do it all,” and that the wonderful thing about being a Christian is the grace to know which things are most important, and to be able to let go of the rest.

And I think the hard part of early pregnancy, at least for me, is that all you feel is yuck. You don’t feel pregnant, you don’t feel excited, you don’t feel like your body is working hard all day to nurture and help create a new person. You just feel like something is wrong. And so I end up frustrated that I suddenly can’t “do it all,” or at least the “all” that I usually accomplish.

But the truth that I need to keep meditating on (and that my husband is so quick to lovingly remind me of) is that I have taken on a great new endeavor — that of being pregnant — and that must necessarily mean letting go of other endeavors. If I can just remember that, I won’t feel so behind. I’ll just feel productive in other areas.

What a great lesson of trust and flexibility life is. That, and being content in my humanity.

I’m pretty big into meal planning. This is relatively new — since Jameson was born, I guess. In the craziness of learning to juggle homemaker responsibilities and caring for a newborn, I discovered that having a meal plan for the week was a life saver. I always have the ingredients I need, because I use the meal plan to compose my grocery list, and if I have an unexpected free hour one morning or afternoon, I can bake or cook something I’ll need later in the week — and so the dinner rush doesn’t happen at 4pm. It’s awesome.

Except that suddenly just looking at my cookbooks makes me sick to my stomach. The Food Network induces nausea. And opening my fridge triggers my gag reflex.

So my menu plan this week?

Cheerios and bananas.
Homemade whole wheat toast.
Maybe a fried egg, if I need protein.
Grapefruit juice.
(Repeat as needed until the week is over.)

Sorry Ry.

Oh, and sorry to the three girls who are flying all the way across the country to visit me. Hope you don’t mind doing your own shopping and cooking while you’re here.

*****

I don’t love to clean. But I do love to live in a clean house. I also don’t love to do laundry, but like most anyone, we all seem to appreciate clean clothes. So I have a little routine that keeps all of those plates spinning, results in a clean house, and I don’t have to wait till I feel like it.

Except that lately, I can’t seem to muster up anything more than I don’t care.

Which means that at this point, I should probably use a heavy duty shop vac to vacuum my rugs.

But I promise, girls who are flying all the way across the country, that I will do what must be done before you arrive.

*****

I’m a morning routine kind of person. No matter how long it takes, Jameson and I are dressed in decent outfits and groomed before we move on to the rest of the day.

Of course, this past week, Jameson’s decent outfit lasts about two hours. I’m not sure why, but the poor child never gets his pants back after his first diaper change of the day.

*****

And I could cry over my constant nausea and not having anything for Ryan to eat; over the dust on my piano that is changing it’s shiny black gloss to a dull gray; over my poor child, who is taken to the store with bed head (but at least is at that point fully dressed.)

Or I can just smile, muscle through, and know that someday this, too, shall pass.

And in the meantime, three girls are flying across the country to see me. Did I mention that? Yes? Well. I’m afraid it can’t be helped. I’m awfully excited.