A time to think

So. This little bundle of laughs has decided that 4 AM is the perfect time to fill up his belly, and then lay, wide eyed and alert, feet crossed and fat little fingers interlaced over his burgeoning belly, and ponder the meaning of his existence. He stares at the very dim light in the middle of the ceiling in his nursery, blinking, thinking, the weight of the world on his little shoulders. Occasionally he turns his pensive little gaze up to my eyes, then usually follows that up with a gouge to my eye or inside a nostril, it's lovely. It's very tranquil, very sweet, but very hard on his pregnant Mama who is dying to climb back into her own bed. Something is all wonky with his sleeping these past 24 hours.....there are disadvantages and benefits. I am finally getting out of that first trimester funk, and rather than continue to feel overwhelmed and upset by all that has to be done surrounding our upcoming move, I decided that yesterday was going to be the day that I was "back". I was going to clean, I was going to organize, I was going to be ruthless in my throwing away of clutter. The day was absolutely beautiful, the air cool, the windows wide open etc etc.....We went and took Mom Mom Jule out to lunch, and then got home just in time for Luke to settle in for his nice long 2 hour nap, enabling me to morph into the cleaning banshee I was visualizing. One issue, Luke didn't get the memo. For the first time I can remember in a long time, Luke had NO interest in taking an afternoon nap. None. Just not happening. Now, I cant complain too much, because he could not have been more pleasant....I sat him on the floor of whatever room I was tearing apart, and let him make a mess while I cleaned up a different one. He was so content, so happy to play with whatever was at hand, but was not going to sleep. This epic awake period continued until 8.30 PM when he finally succumbed to sleep. Then came the 4 am feed-and-think-fest, but then the little critter slept till 8 am. (For those of you without children, that is akin to me sleeping till 11 in the days of old, Luke is up at 6.30 most mornings) I woke up convinced someone had stolen him in some sort of dreadful sinister Lindburg~esque plot. (They didn't, he was scrunched, butt up, happily conked out in his crib)

Would love to go on and on about this (my day got better from there, a strange biker man showed up at my door, helmet in hand, and I realized how protective I have become when I started immediately thinking "what can I hit and hurt this crazy man who is coming to steal my baby with", rather than "oh, I wonder what the kindly looking older gentlemen at my door wants, maybe he is in need of help") and then I fell UP the basement steps (quite a feat) and smashed my belly into the load of laundry I was carrying, and my face into the brick wall. Pretty. Baby seems fine and face fared less well, but hey, the bruise/scrape adds a little character.
The little stinker just dropped a bomb that smells as though it deserves immediate attention, so I am off. We are going to see the family portraits from the beach today ~ I am hoping that we got some great ones. If so you can probably all expect to see a family shot gracing your mailbox this December in the oh so trite "Have a baby and start with the photo Christmas card" bit. We are simply so original. :)