A few numbers

I have this cool blog post idea that's bouncing around in my head. For days, I've been meaning to write it but stuff keeps coming up. The huge fundraiser I'm in charge of at James's school is eating into all my time. You know, time I normally use to do stuff like sleep, eat, and oh...breathe.

Then there's my self-imposed writing deadline. I wanted to finish my manuscript before the LDS Storymakers conference next week and my goal is 75,000 words. I'll definitely finish that, which is wonderful, but it turns out my story isn't done yet. I'm guessing I'm going to end closer to 85,000 words. And so I'm trying to decide if I can balance extra writing against all these PTA responsibilities I have.

And then there's this lovely weird tummy thing I have going on today. It is the oddest bug. I'm thinking it's a virus or something but any time I'm upright, I feel like puking, and no matter what, I have these sharp cramps in my upper G.I. tract. I wonder if it's an answer to a prayer.

Freeze. Don't get all excited. I don't have an announcement.

Hang with me here. See, we're starting to think about the next kiddo. And so I've been praying about it, because I'd love another kid but I want to make sure it's the right time. (Like there is such a thing). And every time I pray that prayer, I soon end up having some random sleepless night that reminds me of the misery I had with my last pregnancy when I went days at time without more than two hours of sleep at a time. And I'm not so pleasant when I don't sleep. Or like today, I have this awful nausea that reminds me of the vague sense of carsickness I experienced through that same pregnancy.

And the thing is, I'm willing to deal with the physical discomfort. I realize people have far worse pregnancies, but my last one was tough for me. Even then, I wouldn't think twice about another baby, but now I have two kids already to think about and what good I'm going to be them if I'm an exhausted, ill mess. I had to call my husband home early today because I just had to lay down to fight the puketasticness.

So, here's the deal. I'm going to build a slight cushion into my decision. I already weigh ten pounds less than when I got pregnant with Baby G, but I think I'd like to drop just ten more pounds. The number that drops me to is part of the post I keep saying I want to write, and I will, but the idea that unlocking that number can mean I'm physically more prepared for another baby is pretty exciting.

But here's the other thing. Emotionally, I think I already am prepared. So maybe that weight is just going to stay some number, one to wave at from a distance with a much smaller number of pounds cradled in a soft baby blanket in my arms.

Hm...

I'm not asking for advice. I think me, my husband and Heavenly Father can figure that out.

I'm just writing to say that PTA is stressing me out, I don't feel so good, and I'm a little baby hungry. Just another day at the Jacobson house.