I woke up early this morning.
I was jerked awake by some way-too-vivid, anxiety-riddled pregnancy dream, the likes of which dominate most of my nights. The dream fog, slow to clear, left me shaken. I could hear Lamb breathing steadily beside me, though, and turned my thoughts to him. I started thinking about how glad I am that Tom and I haven't been afraid to let Lamb sleep with us. It's been such an awesome experience, allowing us to travel easily and camp in cold weather and nurture our parent-child bonds even when Lamb is busy being two all day long. And it's so damn sweet. In his sleep, Lamb reached out and touched my cheek with his hand, resting it there. I thought about all those gooey mom things one thinks about in such a tender moment... and then I realized that the sweet gesture of unsolicited affection was actually a foot tossed over my face by the bed-hoggiest kid I've ever known. Sigh. He was directly perpendicular to me, his head on the pillow I put next to him to keep him from rolling out and his feet, well...
I removed the offending foot and gave Lamb a 90-degree turn back onto his pillow. I checked the clock: 6:07 AM. Not offensively early, but too early for this girl. Maybe a bathroom break. I attempted a surreptitious slip out of the covers, but a sleepy voice behind me croaked, "Put your head on your pillow, Mommy." Damn. I sank back down and waited for him to drift off again. There was silence in the house. Tom would be waking up soon, getting ready for his temporary job doing demo for a home renovation company. He is far overqualified for the job, and I asked him yesterday if it was a blow to his ego at all. It was work, he said, and there's honor in all work. That had made me proud. He has been shamelessly networking and looking for a reasonable position, one where he can make enough for us to live comfortably but not one where his job takes over his life. It will be a new experience for us, and a welcome one.
We only have one vehicle, so I planned to drop Tom at the construction office so I would have the pickup for the day. I felt gross anxiety creeping into my mind. I hate driving that enormous thing in traffic, and driving has been especially tough in Anchorage since snow and ice obscure the lane markings. What if I got lost? Anchorage is bigger than any city I've ever lived in, times a bazillion. What if...? It was no way to start a journey, let alone a day. I reminded myself that the weather has been bright and clear, the people friendly. It would be okay.
The baby in my belly started his morning somersault routine, pressing against the mattress. There was no going back to sleep then. I rolled over to inspect the ceiling. What would Lamb and I do all day? The three of us have spent the last three days solid apartment shopping. We have never lived in such an urban place, and the prospect of apartment complexes with shared yards and tight parking lots just plain freaks us out. We finally toured a place yesterday evening that checked all our boxes: fireplace, garage, washer and dryer, dishwasher, little fenced yard for Lamb, more than a foot between our place and our neighbors'. It's a funny little two-bedroom house tacked onto the side of a larger split-level home, with the garages of each house sharing a wall. The owner said it would be taken before Wednesday, and I can only hope we called/applied early enough to be considered.
I mulled over our options for the day. We could try to find the public library and go for a field trip. Or we could find a place to get Lamb a haircut. Or... Or! We go to Fred Meyer and go grocery shopping! There's a Starbucks, and every grocery item imaginable, and clothes and shower curtains and who know what all else just begging to be perused! It makes me feel so backwoods, but every time I walk in that place I feel like Julie Andrews in the opening scene of The Sound of Music. It's a far cry from the tiny mom-and-pop groceries of our former Wyoming life. AND there's coffee. Sold.
The thought of coffee finally baited me out of bed. I rolled, beetle-like, out of the nest of covers and stumbled to the bathroom. A new day of our new life, begun.