It's officially March, and tomorrow I'll be 36 weeks pregnant. So while we're hoping to hold out until April, if our little guy decides to come, he's officially far enough along that the doctors will welcome him into the world (and so will we.)
In the meanwhile, we're trying to get our lives ready for our new little life. This week it's meant having Ellie go to preschool for a "visit." We picked a Montessori close to our house, and on Tim's way to work. She'll be going two days a week for the morning session, which will give the baby and I some alone time to bond and explore and live life, and if he decides to spend Ellie's preschool hours napping, it'll give me a few hours of quiet sanity a week. Oh, and I think it'll be good for Ellie too! I feel very lucky that she's had nearly two and a half years of my constant attention, and the love and attention of her wonderful grandparents and aunt and uncle, but it'll be good for her to have to be more independent. To live by the rules of the teacher, and to learn how to get along with other students, without her mommy always there for support. Thursday morning we went in, and I introduced her around and then left. Within five minutes, they'd called me and asked me to come back. So I sat with a tearful Ellie and her teacher, and we played with blocks and books for about an hour. I talked to the teacher about what to do better, to help Ellie ease into things, and she suggested I come back today, since Fridays the classroom has less children, and so she and her co-teacher would be able to devote more one on one time to Ellie. This morning we once again packed her lunch (this time with a photo of her family tucked inside) and headed off. She started crying about as soon as we walked in, and they had to actually pry her little arms from my neck, as my heart quietly broke.
BUT during the hour I was gone, she went outside, got interested in the play ground equipment and the ducks, and enjoyed looking at pictures of animals in the classroom. When I got back an hour later she was crying again, but they assured me that she'd been fine in the interim. Both teachers remarked on how smart and verbal she is, which made me feel good, and assured me that they think she'll be fine in a few days. Monday is her first "full" day of preschool (three hours) so hopefully that will go well. Either way, she's going. Last night I was feeling like a real grade A a-hole about the whole thing, but Tim reminded me that we can't give up because she had one bad hour at preschool. We've got to really give her the chance to adjust, and trust that soon enough she'll be pushing us out of the way to get to her teachers and her activities. And if she's still miserable in a few months, then she doesn't have to go. But I think it's in everyone's best interest that she attend preschool during the first few weeks of her brother's life. It's either that or she can sit at home in front of the TV for hours, while I cry in the back ground.
It's just a lot, and I am having a lot of emotions about everything. If one can have a feeling about something, trust me, I do. IT'S HORMONE CITY UP IN HERE! I'm excited about the baby, I'm terrified to have another newborn, I'm looking forward to meeting him, I'm dreading the exhaustion and the physical strain of the first few weeks, I'm ready to have two little car seats in the car, I'm sad that we have to turn Ellie around in order to fit Tim in the car with her, I'm so ready to see her as a big sister, I feel so guilty that she won't get my undivided attention anymore... There's a lot of bursts of weeping in my house, as you can tell.
In the meanwhile, Tim and I are taking a weekend away to hang out together and enjoy some quiet time before the new baby arrives. Ellie will stay with Mimi (who she continues to tell me takes such good care of her and holds her all the time) and Pa, and Tim and I will relax in San Diego. Hopefully the weeping will be minor, for everyone.
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