A once-off weekly update

So recently, Julie at A Case of the Runs cheekily posted one of those week-by-week pregnancy surveys that are pretty dull to anyone who is not the surveyee - only she filled out the answers nearly a year after giving birth! In the same spirit, I'm finally getting around to filling out one of these things. 

How far along? Almost 6 months. Postpartum. 

Total weight gain/loss: 0 lbs (from average pre-pregnancy).While pregnant I did put on 30lbs of baby + placenta + water + ...I don't know, matter. And then it all went away again. Where does it come from? If I produce a 7.5-lb baby and a pound of placenta and a couple pounds of water, where on earth does the rest all go? Hey cosmologists, I've solved your dark matter mystery. The answer is PREGNANT PEOPLE. 

Shape change, however, is a whole nother story; my entire substance seems to have been redistributed. The middle is softer, the hips are wider, the butt is flatter, and let's not even talk about fitting back into pre-pregnancy bras. This amuses me greatly, but it is also a little frustrating simply because my old clothes look frumpy. 

Sleep: Sleep??? Remind me what that is, again? Last week, baby began crawling, sitting up, and pulling up to kneel all at one go, which means that at least once a night he wants to practice these thrilling new skills. For an hour. Hello coffee, come to mama. 

Constant. Motion.

Other times, baby just eats and conks back out. I don't begrudge him these little night wakeups - hell, I wake up hungry and thirsty in the middle of the night, why shouldn't he? 

Best moment this week: Mr GCA is away for two weeks for work, so it's just me and baby. On Sunday morning we decided to go out for a walk and randomly bumped into a neighbour and her two kids. (We live in grad student family housing, so this isn't quite as serendipitous as it sounds.) We walked to a cafe, went grocery shopping, picked up batteries at the MicroCenter, had some conversation that wasn't just us talking to ourselves in high-pitched tones, and then baby and I went over to her place for dinner that night. 

Movement: All of the movement, all of the time. Crawling, sitting, pulling up, you name it. I half expect the little squirt to start skiing this winter. Maybe doggy-paddling. 

Food cravings: Not cravings exactly - but these are the snacks I go through on an average day: string cheese, an egg, almonds, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, a couple pieces of leftover Halloween candy, an apple, some crackers, some trail mix, plus regular meals. 

Baby woke up visibly fatter and longer the other day. I guess I know where it all goes. 

Anything making you queasy or sick: A lack of sleep; some diapers after several days of not pooping. 

Leakage: Me or baby? 

Belly Button in or out? I had to check (in, mostly); there is no time for navel-gazing these days! 

Wedding rings on or off? On, but everything is loose. 

Happy or Moody most of the time: Wild swings between ridiculously happy and energetic and amused by my offspring (most mornings) and 'I can't do this any more' (re: solo parenting). 

Weekly Wisdom: I don't know about weekly, but this thought occurred to me and was originally composed as a comment on Fit and Feminist:

"A six-hour training weekend and a teething baby are both equally valid reasons to be exhausted. Once you get into the life choices comparison game, it’s all over; you just have to own your life choices. (Aside: I would love to go for a two-hour run or a long bike ride. The weather is beautiful and perfect. And it’s not happening. Instead I’m pushing 30lbs of stroller and baby for three very slow miles on six months of accumulated sleep debt… it is what it is! And you know what’s hardest? Every. Single. Day on that three-mile slog, I see the big Citgo sign and think of all the things that might never be.)"

There are so many things I love about parenting, but when you're deep in the trenches of being a parent of a really small baby, you might look up now and then...And there, twinkling in the fast-encroaching winter night, is the damn Citgo sign, as if to symbolise everything that's just out of reach.