Bed Rest: Day 12

If I have one more person tell me how they'd give anything to be forced to watch tv, read books, and nap all day, I'm going to scream. Really, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Sure, those things might sound fun. For a couple days. Think about not being able to get up and make food for yourself whenever you're hungry, having to rush each shower, realizing you need something from upstairs or downstairs (about 50 times a day) and not being able to go get it, and your dog giving you sad eyes and batting you with her paw to get you to play with her or go for a walk- neither of which you can do.

All that is bad enough, but when you're a Type A, anal retentive, perfectionist, control freak the list of what makes you crazy on bed rest goes on and on and on. I can get over the dishwasher not being loaded the "right way", but when the dishes are going somewhere other than their designated spots in the cabinets, I get panicky. Someone else has to do my laundry (I can't remember the last time I allowed this), which actually terrifies me. Is the garden getting enough water? Will the groceries I want (as indicated in my detailed, aisle by aisle shopping list) end up at my house? When they do get here, how will they be put in the fridge? I can tell you one thing, it's not going to be in the proper spot and with the labels all face forward. I like my yogurt containers to all look like little soldiers in there...perfectly lined up, facing forward, arranged by expiration date from front to back. No one is going to know to do this. Toilet paper needs to roll over the top, Lucy likes her food mixed with REALLY hot water (hotter than her dad makes it), the bed has to be made everyday with the top sheet folded over the duvet....

Maybe this is all a good lesson for me in letting go of the things that just don't matter at all, and focusing on a single important task- letting Baby S grow. The alternative is driving the hubster even more insane as I micromanage every one of tasks he's kind enough to take on while I'm laid up. The man is a saint. I can hardly stand myself as I hear the words coming out of my mouth, but, of course, he has been wonderful. My mom has been a tremendous help, too- keeping my company, keeping us fed, and allowing for some of my insanity.... she's had 35 yrs of this, he's had 5. Ok, they're both saints.