My mother arrived last Thursday and stayed until yesterday. Patrick has always been partial to her and this time made it immediately clear that he is madly, madly in love with her forsaking all others. Within moments of her arrival his little voice could be heard piping, "Nana! Nana!" all over the house. I am not going into the whole He-doesn't-say-Mama thing again, but... I don't know how to finish that sentence. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking: what the hell Julia? I watched that video. I heard him say "Mama" about fifty times. The truth is, the sad truth is, that 'Ma' is his word for "more." So we can all close our eyes and PRETEND that he was saying Mama, why don't you finish singing the ballad and stop trying to fob me off with early cross-over hits, but he wasn't. He doesn't know me from a nesting black swan. As Steve said to me as Patrick flung himself at the baby gate in a vain attempt to follow her upstairs during a three second bathroom break, sobbing brokenly, "Nana, Nana": third out of three ain't bad. Meaning, of course, that in Patrick's preference hierarchy I fall squarely third. Whatever.
In other news, we have an RE appointment scheduled for April 12th. I STILL haven’t called the Sperm Guy back, which clearly indicates that I have some ambivalent feelings about it. Ha! Psychology is easy!Actually, I think it is just that I am shy and I hate complicated phone calls and I am no longer fueled by my murderous Steve-directed rage. I just this second vowed to pick up the phone and call and I just this second heard Patrick mewing from his crib. Oh well. It has been almost five weeks since the D&C and last time it took a well-documented (I kept complaining) eight weeks for my cycle to start again so I feel like I have some pleasant, non-procreative downtime to work with. This must be what the off-season feels like for football players. I mean, if playing football was like pregnancy and getting tackled was like miscarrying.