John C. McGinley wove through my dreams last night, lucky girl that I am. Unfortunately he was there mostly as a background presence in various stressful situations (brought wrong child to pediatrician, discovered most of my teeth had cavities, late to class and can't remember where the classroom is), rather than in the sort of situation where I could, for example, grab one of his biceps and give it a little squeeze.
I was looking in my old journals to see what pregnancy was like at this stage in other pregnancies, and I found that always at this stage I am doing very little reading. Too distracted, I think. I do continue to read People magazine, because, you know, I need to keep up with important current events. And this time around, I'm reading a ton of blogs. I think this is comparable to my last pregnancy, when I spent zillions of hours reading and posting to message boards in a group of women all due the same month as me: it's not really reading, even though reading is involved--it's more cruising for social interaction.
One thing I have noticed, as I cruise the bloggerhood, is that more blogs need a section like *ahem* mine. See up at the top righthand side, where it says my name and my husband's name and the names and birth years of our kids? That would be a very handy thing to have in most blogs. Often I find a blog, and I'm trying to figure out what's going on, but who are all these people? I've come into a room filled with strangers, and I don't know who is the husband, who is the baby, who is the cat, who is the blogger. I need a list of the cast members. Once I read nearly an entire post before realizing that the code-named individual was a dog and not a child.
This morning has been our usual weekend routine: I try to set things up so that Paul realizes his help is required, and he cruises obliviously past. Today I was in my pajamas feeding the twins their breakfast, and he said that he and William were going down to the workshop to do a project. I said oh, that's a great idea, but was he going to want the twins left in their high chairs, or put down in their playpen? because first I was going to take a shower (here I glanced so rapidly it was almost subliminal at his clean, dressed person) and have breakfast (another rapid glance at the crumby plate he was bringing to the sink).
Edited to add: Thanks to Coffee Stained for letting me know that comments were disabled--I thought nobody loved me anymore.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 1 of 2 - I have TWO 8-year-olds to buy for, so I’m going to split it up into two posts. Today will be the things we’re getting for Edward. I dislike saying “Gift id...