A journalist observes life in the far north.
Next week is my last week at a job I’ve held for the last 10 years. I might be more nervous about giving up my job than having another baby. It’s hard to tell which thing is causing more anxiety. I kind of already feel like a lame duck at work. At a staff meeting a couple of weeks ago, we were talking about which day of the week is best for weekly staff meetings. I made the comment that Mondays are a bad day because it’s the first day of the week and the day most of us are getting reengaged with our beats. One of my co-workers asked me what did I care since I am leaving anyway.
Jade can hardly fit on my lap anymore. My enormous stomach takes up most of the room. What’s sweet is she seems to understand there’s a baby in there and she hugs my belly. She’s not all peaches and cream, however. When I asked her today if the baby could use one of her blankets, she looked horrified and said, “No!”
Alec is on his best behavior. When he sees me gaze at myself in a window—they turn into mirrors because of the black night—and grimace at my lumpy reflection, he tells me I look beautiful. What’s odd is that I run around naked a lot. You would think I would want to cover up but I am so darned over-heated.
I bought a pretty bathrobe to wear at the hospital. It’s pink satin, and it’s so smooth it keeps flopping open. Alec likes it. I had my toes polished too, thinking I would like to look at pretty toes when I am pushing. Funny thing about that is I don’t remember noticing my toes when I pushed Jade out. I’d have my hair styled but my hairdresser is too popular and I can’t get an appointment until February.
My friend, Bobbi, made a wonderful quilt for the baby. I’ve had to hide it from Lucky, our little blanket connoisseur. It’s red and green and yellow with strawberries. I know I have some more blankets in a tote in the storage loft somewhere, but I can’t get up there in my condition.