Grumpy Cake

Yesterday was rough. I don't think I can narrow it down to just one thing, so here's what I think was the recipe for the weepy, anxious grumpy cake I must have eaten yesterday:

1. a dash of crusty, left-over social anxiety from lovely dinner guests the night before
2. a healthy dollop of feeling utterly worthless as a result of: a) not being able to sufficiently contribute to the financial stability of the household, and b) not having a single damn thing to do at work. Not. A. Damn. Thing.
3. a small heap of frustration that I'm paying for supervision, but hardly accruing any clinical hours toward full licensure, due to the lack of clients and referrals from the partnering doctor.
4. a sprinkle of despair at the irrationality of looking for another job with only 5 months to the arrival of Critter.
5. two pinches each of fear, dismay, and disgust that the world into which I'm bringing new life is becoming increasingly more of a narrow, shallow, dirty shithole with minimal hope for environmental or social redemption.
6. a spoonful of other, miscellaneous irrational fears
7. and one drop of hobgoblin residue

Finally, fold in a stubborn pulled muscle that inhibits movement, a body that doesn't feel like mine, what I can only assume to be wacky hormones, and too much time to cook it all together and--VOILA-- a big ol' soggy, stinky grumpy cake.

So far, while the ingredients for a grumpy cake will always be at hand if I choose to get them out and make one, I think I had my fill yesterday and I'd like to pass go with something better on my plate today.

hugging porcupines

I guess I think a lot about how I want Critter to be safe, and humble, and empathetic, and strong, and motivated, and generous, empowered, and empowering.... and the list goes on and on and on....

Lately this desire has manifested in thinking about how to teach the kid about bullies and other such unsafe and toxic people--manipulators, succubi/incubi, cowards, liars, etc.-- without teaching hate or defaulting to dismissal or cut-and-dry judgement. So, these thoughts seem to have boiled down to thinking about hugging porcupines, snuggling with boa constrictors, gaming with skunks, telling secrets to parrots, or petting poisonous caterpillars. Not that we can control for all these encounters-- sometimes the skunk seems like a kitten-- but painful things will inevitably happen. It'd be nice to keep those to a minimum, right?

Anyway, this is how I'm passing go these days: 17 weeks and I'm all about the monkey pajamas because attempts to button jeans have officially been abandoned. Also, stomach extension seems to vary greatly based on what time the picture is taken. This one is from first thing in the morning before eating anything and --TMI-- all the stupid resulting gas sets in. I mean, seriously. All day. Relentless. Luckily I'm working in a big office all to my little self right now, except when the maintenance man walks in immediately after a particularly angry explosion. Ahem.... It wasn't me, it was the Critter?!? ... Sorry man.... Like I said, relentless. And embarrassing moments build character, right? Right.

I also think I felt Critter squiggle around in there the other day, which was pretty cool. There really is something totally surreal about growing another life in the midst of all your other guts and innards, and in a month we get to find out if this thing is going to be born with an innie or an outie. Should be a fun party with pink or blue CAKE! While possible but very rare in the whole biological sex spectrum (and we'd be no less excited!) we're assuming for now that it won't be a purple cake.