Was that the name of an 80’s fake rap group, or something?
Euphoria is also a feeling I had a few times in my second trimester. It actually came back to visit me on Thursday night. (I don’t know if you’ve noticed that I’m addicted to blogging. I went away this weekend and proudly did not ignore my family for one moment over my computer. We didn’t even take it with us. But now I have too much to say. It all piled up!)
I took a great yoga class Thursday night. In the middle of the class, it struck me how very close my child is to me. He is with me constantly. He can’t toddle away. He can’t go to his room and close the door in favor of a video game (which I hope to prevent altogether, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.) I can actually control everything he eats. He can’t even lay on a blanket on the floor while I hover above him. He’s right here under my heart. It made me so happy to get this time with him. I don’t know why it happened. Especially because in the third trimester, I’ve become increasingly more uncomfortable and looking forward to meeting Trucker face to face — rather than head to cervix.
I’ll take happy when I can get it. I’m finished with work, too. I have yet to feel super-happy about that because I mostly feel tired. Those of you who have packed up a classroom before know what I mean.
Now I can work on my book in earnest without waiting for my son to go to bed. And I can finally go through his closet and organize things. That makes me happy.