I don't know if any of you have experienced a good prescription painkiller, or perhaps the similar feeling--from what I've heard--produced by certain non-prescription substances. The feeling is familiar to me from postpartum, when the lovely lovely pills put a barrier between me and the other feeling, the one where I'm imagining my baby as an old man and weeping because life is so very fleeting, and then thinking about how I have made a terrible mistake to get married and have children, and then thinking about how I will never be able to cope with this new workload because it is too much and I have really gone too far this time. Then it is time for my painkiller and I see why people who have lives that are genuinely unhappy--rather than made temporarily unhappy by hormonal adjustments--might resort to such substances without the authorization of a physician.
Tonight I have that painkiller feeling, but with nothing to explain it. I was washing the dishes, and my hands and the bridge of my nose started feeling...tingly. And I felt distant from what I was doing, and inclined to admire the soap bubbles and wash the dishes more slowly to appreciate the roundness of the plates and the sparkly way the water was running over them. BUZZED. But why?
When I am 38 weeks pregnant, I attribute everything to possible labor. Crampy? Maybe I'm in labor! Lower back a little sore? Maybe I'm in labor! Not hungry? Maybe I'm in labor! Feeling buzzed for no reason? Hey, it COULD be labor.
Underneath the "whoaaaaaaaa! look at my hands!" feeling, I started getting stressed: if it were labor, I'd still have last-minute things I'd need to do--but darned if I could make myself do anything except look at the pretty bubbles. Then, suddenly, I was galvanized. I separated out the "fun things for the kids to do while waiting around at the hospital" stuff from the "fun things for the kids while Paul is trying to handle all four of them at home" stuff. I packed up a few more things that can be packed up now, such as batteries and a tiny screwdriver for the little games that will certainly run out of batteries ten minutes after we get to the hospital. I put a book of Sudoku puzzles in my hospital bag, and remembered to include a pencil.
And I calmed the hell down, because it's not labor. Early labor feels very little like "yummy painkillers!" and very much more like, "Ouch ouch ouch damn it this hurts!"--as I remember it from my firstborn, anyway.
Now I'm lethargic again, but still with that strange high feeling. I think I'll go sit in the recliner and admire the weave of the fabric until Thursday.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 2 of 2 - Last week I talked about the gifts we were getting/considering for Edward, who is turning 8 next month. This week it’s Elizabeth’s turn: not “girl gifts,” ...