notice:

if you should find yourself in the western suburbs of cleveland, and stop in at the big mall there, and think to yourself, maybe i'll see if there's anything good on the infant boy clearance rack at the gap: don't. it will be a waste of time. because, you see, i have cleaned them out of anything worth having (except for a 12 mo white courdoroy blazer, which could be funky cute if used well but, being white, and for a toddler boy, would probably end up being mostly funky all the time, from all the crap that would be staining it - so i left it for you).

i went into the mall last night with the intention of walking for an hour before picking justin up from work, and - hey - i did get 30 minutes in. but i also got me some retail therapy (and better still, discount retail therapy), which did much for my lagging spirits last night. i believe in a holistic approach to health: i took care of both body and spirit last night. my favorite thing is a pair of swim trunks for next summer, with groups of yellow or blue fish clustered at their noses to form tropical flowers on a pale blue background. when i saw them, i could immediately imagine his chubby baby belly spilling over the drawstring waist of them, and at $4.97, it would have been irresponsible of me not to get them.

last night's therapy session isn't helping much today, though. after breakfast we went to edgewater park to walk (me) and run (justin), and it was demoralizing how uncomfortable i felt. usually, a good walk works out all the kinks, and my increased exercise of late has been keeping me much less uncomfortable than i was with hans, but it just wouldn't work this morning. the more i walked, the more pressure i felt and the more crampy i got, so i slowed down, but it didn't help. i sat down on a picnic bench until justin finished running, and as we got in the car justin was telling me about something hans-related that had choked him up, and i lost it. i sat in the car and sobbed.

i am tired of being pregnant. i am tired of the momentous effort it makes to do something as simple as turning over in bed. i am tired of waddling. i am tired of the crampiness and the pelvic pressure. i am tired of nothing tasting right. i am tired of dealing with the gd gd, and the pissing match between my ob and my peri. i am tired of all the uncertainties.

and i miss hans. he should be befuddled by my size and by all the preparations for milo. he should be discovering the joys of soy nuggets and bananas and grilled cheese sandwiches and all the other foods he would be big enough to hold and feed himself. he should have been running beside me this morning until his little legs got tired, and then relaxing in the jogging stroller while his dad pushed him around. he should have howled when justin passed him off to me, because i wouldn't have given him as fast a ride as his dad did, and when i was sobbing in the car, he should have been the one sobbing, because he didn't want to be put in the car but be out there getting more stroller rides. he should be hollering at me now to come get him up from his nap, and pronto - and he should be putting on fish-flowered swim trunks to waddle down the block to the pool to splash with all the big kids. i miss him so much.

i took justin to work at 11 with big plans for loading up at trader joe's and running errands, but i realized on the way to the airport that my wallet was not in my purse, and as much as they seem to love me at trader joe's, they're not going to just give me stuff for free. so i came back home after dropping him off and have laid in bed ever since and moped. i also slept for a couple of hours, despite sleeping more last night than i had in weeks. i need to get up and eat, but i haven't been able to summon the drive to do so, especially when the prospects for eating are so grim: more of the low-carb crap of which i am so very tired.

i think i need to get out of here (this time with my wallet) and see a movie or something. i need something to jolt me out of my funk. drugs are no longer an option, and exercise is becoming more difficult and less effective. getting a re-do on the last year and a half, in which hans was actually born breathing and healthy, seems unlikely. i've already talked to my mom and my sister, and i'm avoiding justin's mom until after wednesday's ultrasound (since we decided against her coming, and justin doesn't want to be the one to tell her, and i don't want to tell her, either) so hanging out at her house isn't an option. there must be some trash at the multiplex next to trader joe's that would give me a break, even a little one, from this desire to burst out of my skin and not be me.