The name is Little

One week away from the half-way mark and I feel I need to blog what my Little has done with me so far...along with some other random thoughts.

In October, Little ran a marathon. The Portland Marathon. Now, Little was little and no one knew Little was there (well, God did I suppose!). But I'm happy to say we did the longest, hardest thing I've ever done, together. We sat on the couch for what seemed like days on end. We turned 30...well, I turned 30 but whatever. We got flipped off together because mommy drives too fast and aggressively but she'll tell you that what she did does not deserve the bird! Little does Zumba 2-3 times a week and it's not yet known if Little appreciates it or not. And just yesterday Little went snowshoeing with Ali and Jen for a glorious and peaceful hour and a half. I am pleased and excited for all the other adventures we'll manage while Little is carted around like the cute little freeloader Little is.

Next on the list is beginning a vigorous training regimen for Bloomsday. Sarcasm. Did you hear it? Sarcasm because my vigorous training will consist of WALKING. Little's first Bloomsday will be May 2012 and I have every ambitious intention of finishing while wearing an obnoxious belly outfit and spandex.

Random thoughts:
Because I don't like to get ahead of myself in reading about what to expect when I'm expecting, I'll find oddities and curiosities that send me reeling towards the What to Expect book. Like the other day, I had myself convinced that I must have forgotten...many, many times...to wash my armpits because they have turned a strange darkish color. Gross, right? Well, apparently normal. But now I'm afraid to let anyone see the darned things!

I am convinced that if I dance and sing, Little will have hopefully some sense of rhythm and singing abilities...I have not read this anywhere but I don't care...I will sing and I will dance and dang-it that Little better come out already knowing how to play guitar!

Confession:
I ran into a friend today who has a 3 month old and, since the topic of my maternity leave is fresh on my brain, I paid attention to how little and sweet her bundle was. My confession is, I'm a little bummed that I have to return to work so soon after. Not that I don't like to work, I just don't want to work so much. I'm afraid of missing out on things. I'm afraid of being that parent that's never there...and it's hard for me to not be sad about it. But we have a small business that pays pennies yet brings Bobby so much joy. And I am the breadwinner so therefore I must go to work. My heart aches and secretly wishes for another way.


Sigh.