Wednesday, December 15, 2010

33 Weeks

Well, today we turned 33 weeks pregnant and to celebrate I had some extra heartburn tablets. Don't say I don't know how to ring in a new week. Everything seems to be proceeding at a healthy pace. A few days ago Jeff took away my wedding/engagement ring because my swollen, sausagey fingers were being gouged by them. I tried to hide that from Jeff because I really want to keep my rings on, but he made some good points, such as how they would have to cut them off my fingers if they got stuck. Fine, fine. So now I am wearing my cheapo 15.00 ring that Jeff and I got in Greenwich Village on our babymoon before Sadie was born. It's a little big, but probably not for long. If memory serves, those last 6 weeks of pregnancy are all about swelling in places where there should be no water.

So there's that to look forward to.

In other news, the blurb about being 33 weeks pregnant says at this point, I may have trouble sleeping, breathing and sitting. Well, then, how's my tennis game going to be? I am pretty sure that all I do is sleep, breathe and sit.

Speaking of tennis, we took a very positive step for the family this weekend. We joined a tennis club, which has excellent babysitting for wee ones. I won't lie, I have never picked up a racket in my life so the tennis wasn't the draw. The babysitting? Well, that was a dealmaker for us. Jeff is going to get into tennis, which should play on all the strengths that make him a scratch golfer. (Yes, 2 years and 2 weeks into marriage and I still pretend like I know what a "scratch" golfer is. Sue me.) There's a gym attached to the club where Mommy will do her thing, which, for now, is called "walking gingerly on a treadmill." I haven't broken a sweat since October, except when I got the flu last Friday and almost fainted during group therapy. I try to keep things interesting as I spend my time breathing, walking and sleeping.

Anyway, we did our first family run to the club last Sunday. I would say we got some mixed results. I dropped Sadie off in the babysitting room. Of course I was terrified she would not want me to leave and that she would cry and protest at the top of her lungs. However, the minute she walked in to the play area she forgot all about boring old mom and went to play with the other little girl. I was so shocked that we didn't have a scene that I just backed away quietly and went to sit by the fire and read the paper. (Having just gotten over the flu, I wasn't going to visit any treadmill last weekend.)

Jeff reserved a practice lane to hit some tennis balls. When he was done, he came to find me cozily lazing by the fireplace reading the Style Section of the NYT. He looked like hell. I have never seen him so pale and glassy-eyed. What the hell do they do to you in the practice lanes, I wondered? The short ending of the story is that Jeff finally came down with the flu that Sadie and I had been battling and he christened our new tennis club with the contends of his guts.

We're so big time.

While I was waiting for Jeff to get himself together, I looked out over 4 indoor courts as people who looked like good tennis players to me lunged for balls and zigged and zagged all over the court hitting those flourescent balls. I have never given tennis much thought, but I have to hand it to the sport: they have very cute outfits for the ladies (those skirts? are you kidding me? How cute is that?) and it seems very social. As in, you can't play tennis alone. I am beginning to make space in my fantasy future for a few cute outfits and some tennis matches with ladies who will become my gym BFFs. Right now the only person woman I know who belongs to the club is literally an ace tennis player, so I have to work up to her level. I'll play with her when I am in my 60's. Til then, I will plot my maturation from solo marathon runner to congenial tennis player.

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