1. The new-ish bloggy thing seems to be writing a letter to your 18 year old self. What you’d say to her if you could. Your advice, your warnings. I’ve sat down to write this post more times than I can count. I end up writing long, silly, run-on paragraphs in which I detail my youthful hijinks and warn, “You’ll regret that.” Which I then realize is pointless to even mention, and I sit there all nostalgic and in the written form of tongue tied. What it really boils down to is this:
Dear 18 year old Beth:
You are beautiful. Take pride in your body, and your youth. The first time you see your post-baby body in a Target dressing room mirror, you will wonder why you ever hated your body so much. And for heaven’s sakes, slow down. There’s no reason to be in such a hurry to be an adult, trust.
And oh yeah, wear sunscreen.
Much love, 33 year old Beth
2. Voting is still open for the Circle of Moms’ Top 25 NorCal Moms contest! Please vote for me and for all of your NorCal favorites! I know you guys did this for me last year, and you rocked it! Not pushing it so hard this year, but it would be nice to end up on that list. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support! Voting ends in one week, and you can vote once each day.
3. Preschool started back up this week! And I was SO nervous about Bowie’s first day back. Just, how he would adjust, if he would get overwhelmed and what might be done about his newly acquired swearing habit. But, I was assured by all teachers and one of the working parents that he had a fantastic day. And then I worried how he’d be yesterday, for my work day, because often if I’m there and things aren’t going his way, he takes it out on me. And there was a moment during opening circle time when things weren’t exactly happening the way he wanted, and he tried to bite me. But all in all, it was another amazing day. I’m cautiously optimistic that today will go well, and his first couple of days back will be incident-free. A luxury I have not had the pleasure of experiencing since February. And he swore yesterday, but it was directed at a swing, and not a person, which is a minor victory. And the school’s newest teacher just kept responding by putting different words into his sentences. Bowie: “You shit swing!” Teacher: “You silly swing, you’re not doing what Bowie wants!” Bowie: “Shit, I can’t get my foot out!” Teacher: “Ugh, I’m so frustrated that Bowie can’t get his foot out!” Awesome preschool teachers For. The. Win.
4. Sunday marks 37 weeks of pregnancy. As in full term. As in, you can make your grand entrance at any time, bubba. I’m getting invites to birthday parties and emails about preschool meetings for the first few weeks of September and I get so excited thinking, “Well, I could have my little guy before then.” In all reality, I’ll probably be sitting here, a week past my September 16 due date, feeling huge and sore and tired, just like I was with Bowie. And if walking endlessly around our hilly neighborhood, eating pineapple by the pound and drinking vats of raspberry leaf tea taught me anything, it’s that you can’t hurry a baby that’s happy inside mama. I don’t know what will happen, but I’m choosing to remain very optimistic. And when all is said and done, he WILL be here by the end of September, no matter what.
Loveliest of weekends to you all, and if you need me I’m somewhere in that thick blanket of fog covering the Bay Area. (Actually, as I type this, the sky is sort of…well, I don’t want to jinx it.)