So I figured out that I have 40 workdays left until my maternity leave – 51 days total. That sounds SO long to me right now. I can’t concentrate, I spend most of the mornings yawning or fighting heartburn or trying to convince myself that my general malaise here at work is due to pregnancy more than anything else. I worry that I’m failing my team. My horror is to be the type of manager that everyone around him/her doesn’t think deserves to be a manager. This is my fear because I think that often about others. Not charitable, is it? I’m not a charitable person.

S and I put together two file cabinets this weekend, with each other in cooperation, and didn’t threaten divorce. Pretty impressive, yes? Although, I discovered, much to my ongoing confusion/frustration, that he actually has an opinion about the outfits we wear in our holiday pictures. I swear he is hording a list of things he cares about and isn’t telling me until something comes up and makes me need to rethink my whole approach to whatever it is. Like outfits. And the Holidays. What else, I ask you!?

Will was sick this weekend – with a wheezing cough. On Saturday night he was snuggling with me (the good part of him being sick is how snuggly he is), and suddenly he said, “Oh, poor, poor monkey” – I must have said that to him earlier in the day. It made me laugh pretty hard. Poor monkey. Yesterday when he was feeling better, he was saying “Mommy, Mommy” and I was doing the classic mommy-tune-out (like omni-present guilt, the mommy-tune-out apparently comes with the genes triggered by motherhood) and finally he answered himself with, “Yes, darling?” Makes me chuckle just thinking about it now.