Monkey brain

Monkey brain is my description for my thought process when I'm scattered, overtired, overstimulated, or high on one too many lattes.  Or the ugly underbelly of how my posts come out when written in the middle of the night.  You may have to apply your own structure to my sentences in this post, as it is 2:10 am.

Homestead Mama had a softball game Tuesday (last) night, and as usual I brought Pequita, who is still pretty wowed & easy to entertain by the whole scene and all the fawning teammates.  I have been the team's scorekeeper for years, which I do now only as Pequita allows.  My friend Renaissance Mom has been coming to games this year, as her girlfriend is on our team.  She has 3 young boys, and is fantastic with Pequita - she held her during our last game until Pequita fell asleep, and last night entertained our tired fussy baby for an hour while I kept score until nothing would do but sitting on the saddle of my bump and playing with my necklace.  Renaissance Mom shared her fried fish sandwich with me which seemed the most delicious thing ever - my appetite is great, but my desire for food is nil until I am presented with it.  Yum.  I have had almost no fish in the past 18 months since I want to avoid the mercury in most seafood; Homestead Mom has joined me in the moratorium.  She thought I was crazy but went along it, and felt better about it all a few months ago when the news broke that pregnant women shouldn't eat canned tuna of any kind since it seems there is a high enough level of mercury in even the good stuff that it is inadvisable.  I told her that we can eat fish all we want once we are done breastfeeding. 

I went to bed at 10:30 pm, and have been up every hour or so. A contraction wakes me up with a vice grip on my bladder, I pee, I go back to bed & read for 15 minutes or so, fall back asleep and then am up again in an hour.  It feels just like I've been slipped a nice stiff espresso shot right before bed, which makes me restless like this.  I hate being up at night and having to go to work early.  Unless it is labor.  Which would be bad, since I ate that fried fish sandwich for dinner at the softball game and I vowed not to eat anything before/in labor that I wasn't willing to throw up.  Fried fish definitely isn't in that category!

I've been wanting to post pictures of Pequita standing, which she has begun doing in the last two days.  She will hoist herself up to her feet repeatedly, falling into a sit each time her feet aren't in an optimal position, until she's got them placed just right, then looks at us and flings her arms off whatever she's bracing against and grin at us while she hovers in mid-air, standing.  Her clear sense of mastery is delightful, and she doesn't tire of this game.  All the lovely toys we have for her and for weeks she has preferred empty liter water bottles, crinkly plastic bags and the 'human jungle gym' game where she crawls around on & around me on the bed or floor pulling up then sitting down, holding onto our fingers while she balances, and being rolled in somersaults and tossed around.  As I said, I'd *like* to post the pictures, but I can't find the camera.  The last time I remember having it was when we were having a nice brunch out in the yard on the picnic table on Saturday morning.  I'll have to go check if it is still out there on my way to my car in a few hours.  It has rained gale force thunderstorms repeatedly since Saturday, so if it is still out there, I'll be lucky to be able to salvage the memory card.  If I can't find it, I'll have to borrow one to have on hand for the labor until it shows up.  Maybe Homestead Mama can find it - just as I have an (annoying) knack for putting nothing down in the same place twice, she has a very useful knack of finding my lost or misplaced items.  We were clearly made for each other.