A post about nothing

So if you read my post yesterday, I seemed pretty with it, right? (At least I'm trusting that I didn't have any blaring typos or anything since my diligent husband read it.) I was feeling all great about myself at that point.
     However, about an hour or two later, to my chagrin I discovered an epic fail of my brain (yet again). Some of my friends read recently that I put toothpaste in my contact case and found clean glasses in the refrigerator. I just call that absentmindedness. I'm not sure what this can be called. Let me start from the beginning.
     In my valiant quest to be "temporary SAHM elite" I planned our menu for this week on Sunday. I have a little notebook in which I wrote the meal and the book and page number with the recipe. This week, as are most weeks I actually cook from a book, is Rachael Ray week. On Tuesday Brynn and I went to the grocery store, list in hand via a new organizing list app on my iPod, and even a few coupons (which I haven't managed to use since last summer). Let me eliminate a couple of variables.
1) Brynn has become an amazing grocery shopper. I can't imagine why. There is no reason a 3-year-old should behave as well as she does in the grocery store. She helps me, stays right with me, and doesn't complain or beg. So I can't blame this incident on her.
2) This was literally the first thing I put in my buggy, so it wasn't like I was tired or rushing to leave or anything like that. If any thing I wasn't "warmed up" yet.

      On my list I had "Gruyere Cheese." I had no idea what color, shape, texture, or smell this cheese had. I knew it was for a chicken cordon bleu recipe, so it was probably white, and I knew where exotic cheeses are in Bilo. But that's it. I found it rather quickly. However, this was right beside it.

  For some reason, my feeble little pregnant brain thought these said the same thing. I don't know if the shiny apple sticker distracted me, I liked circles better than squares that day, or if it was because there was only one gouda left beside the pile of gruyere and it seemed special. For whatever reason, I stared at these two with one in each hand for a LOOOOOONG time (Brynn was looking at cupcakes or something) and the ONLY difference I could see was circle vs. square. 
    And I teach children. And people pay me to do so.
     This kid sucking all the life and intelligence out of me better be smart is all I gotta say. Next time I'm going to ask Brynn what the difference is if I get confused again.
     Oh, and if you were wondering, the chicken cordon bleu may not have been authentic, but it was delicious even with the gouda.

Phew!

Okay, so it's day 1 of "official" summer break (my reasoning being that I would have had this weekend off anyway) and I TOTALLY see why my house looks the way it does during the school year. I worked out a plan of action before school was out with the help of FlyLady.net and some other resources, and have tried to implement those habits already.
Here are the main ones I have focused on:
1. Putting dirty dishes directly in the dishwasher that can be washed in there.
2. Hand-washing remaining dishes every night (and putting them away) and running the dishwasher every night.
3. Emptying the dishwasher every morning.
4. When I wash and dry a load of laundry, put it up in the same day.
(Notice the acronym "phew!" That was totally not on purpose, except that I went back and added "hand" to number two when I noticed how close it was to being awesomely cheesy.)
I don't know how "normal" people react to these goals of mine. I imagine some of you Cleanies are thinking, "Yeah, duh, you slob. You don't do that all the time?" However, this has been very difficult for me! These are not yet habits and take a lot of self-discipline to keep going. I have to confess even last night (day 3 of this plan) there was a pan in the sink I didn't wash. It wasn't even that dirty, I just decided one pan wasn't worth washing before I went to bed.
It is nice though, because by doing these things regularly, I have been able to do other things around the house too. We are working on cleaning the garage out. We have made a small dent so far, but I KNOW I'm not the only one with garage woes. Before, whenever I had the energy left to do housework, it had to be put into catching up on the mountains of dishes and laundry.
One tip I read about keeping a neater house said to do a load of laundry every 5 days. Excuse me? Maybe if I lived by myself. Maybe when I get caught up I don't have to do a load every day to keep it within reason, but it's day 4, and I have at least 3 more loads I could do today, so by the time I get those done, doing one a day, I'm guessing another one will be waiting on me. (And I'm adding a little boy to this mix!)
I am extremely satisfied with how I'm doing so far, but seriously, it's a full time job on it's own when you throw in preparing 3 meals a day, caring for a vibrant 3 year old, doing regular errandy-type things, and trying to have fun somewhere in there.
I have never said that SAHM's have it easy, I'm not trying to say a point has been proven. My point is that other than the 3 meals a day thing (I do good to fix my own first two and supper when school is in) I'm still supposed to be doing all this other stuff while working 8+ hours a day. When school starts back I'm going to read this again and remind myself that I do a pretty darn good job considering what is expected of me! Kudos to wives and moms everywhere!

Reflection

This Tuesday I go for my 20 week ultrasound. The "anatomy scan." When I don't think very hard about it, I am excited out of my mind. I have had trouble many nights getting to sleep just because I'm so excited. I can't WAIT not to say "it" and "him or her." I want to know my baby's name. I don't know how people wait the whole time, knowing you don't have to!
Then just when I think I'm in the clear, that nasty fear comes creeping back. What if they find something terribly wrong? What if they find something that might be wrong, enough to make me worry another 20+ weeks?  
Every day I fight off thoughts that I might have had when I was pregnant with Brynn, but they are strikingly more pressing this time. One day, one minute, I'm thinking my belly isn't as big as it should be. Later I'll realize I hadn't felt a flutter today. One thought after the other, guessing and second guessing if everything is alright. Curse you, miscarriage, for taking my blissful optimism away.
At the same time, I've been thinking on this time a year ago. I don't remember specifically the day I started showing signs I was miscarrying, because I denied wholeheartedly it was anything to worry about for at least a few days. I do remember that I went to the doctor just a few days after my birthday, which is May 11. I went twice and saw a heartbeat before May 22 knowing for sure my baby was gone.
I know these coincidental dates are adding to my fear and anxiety leading up to this exciting day (I really am more excited than anything). I had no idea this time last year that I would be halfway to meeting a new baby with everything going well. (In spite of my fears, everything has been perfect so far.) I had no idea if I would have another healthy child like Brynn, and I had no idea how long it would take. I prayed God wouldn't let me go through that hurt again. I didn't think I could bear it.
I grappled for a way to honor my baby's memory. At Christmas time, we donated a poinsettia at church in his memory from the 3 of us, since he was due on December 22, so close to Christmas. Now that the day he went to Heaven (at least the only date we can know) is coming up, I feel that need to remember again. For some reason I worry about people thinking it is strange, like maybe I should let it go. Maybe it's weird that I still think about this baby that is gone when I have a precious girl with me here and another one on the way. I spend every waking hour thinking and caring for the two I have here, so maybe it isn't so strange that twice a year I do something special for my heavenly child.
When I got enough courage last year, I made a donation of diapers and wipes to the Carolina Pregnancy Center. I figured I would have been buying them for my baby, so at least somebody else could have them. I think that's what I'll do again this year. I know it is just a little bit, but it means more than that to me.