Pondering.

I feel like I'm way overdue for a post with some actual substance to it. It seems that every time I log in lately, it's to give an update on how many boxes we've unpacked or whether or not we've found the Home Depot. In fact, I log in quite often, consider writing a post, and just log off.

It's not all domesticity and babies in my head. I've recently been rediscovering the poetry of Keats, I read an awesome book by Lisa See (Shanghai Girls-- highly recommend it), and I've done some wrestling with the tunneling of my vision as this baby approaches and the rest of my life prepares to quietly recede for about a year. There's nothing I can do about it, but it makes me feel so claustrophobic to remember how trapped I felt inside the house last time, and how isolated I felt from everyone else around me.

I have hope that this time will be at least a little bit different. Eva is almost 2.5, so there's no way I can avoid going places because I don't like breastfeeding in public or become a such a slave to this next baby's naps that I only get a couple of hour and forty-five minute windows in to leave the house. I've also got a much better support system this time, as I'm no longer trying to walk a tightrope between working part-time and meeting other new mothers. I've had some time to get to know lots of moms in our new city and feel pretty confident that I'll continue to have some opportunities for playdates and nights out.

Frankly, though, I spent a lot more time worrying about this stuff with the last pregnancy, when it was just me, Mr. Milkweed, and a ticking clock at the end of the day. It's amazing how much already having a child pushes worries like this to the back burner, where they just kind of hit a slow simmer. It's only now that I'm finally getting big enough and uncomfortable enough to slow down that I've got the mental space to fret.

Good thing I've got the premiere of Eclipse to look forward to.