Came across a quote from Ann Lamott's Operating Instructions a day or two ago. This is how I began to feel the instant I recognized my soul's reflection in Luke, and our baby magnifies it. Pre-baby, the required rumination time from this thought to tears was about 45 seconds, and now it's down to about 10 and it's not tears but keening, howling ululation. [Hormones?]
PSA to those pregnant or may become pregnant: Get an adjustable bed. We already talked about ours on a daily basis, about how comfortable it is, how it is the best purchase we've ever made, etc, but once you start spending a large portion of your day contorting yourself to feed a tiny human, it's invaluable.
Another pearl from my 13 days of experience: the Boppy pillow is mission-essential.
From the ambition desk: these lipsticks are awesome (Maybelline Color Whisper in Who Wore It Red-er and Color Sensational in Vivid Rose; Revlon ColorStay Ultimate Suede in Muse), and I bought them in the hopes of being the put-together mom with bright lipstick, wearing these cute dresses (in polka dot, in cherry print) with sensible red shoes and a sun hat. This was, of course, in the days just before Clementine was born. Now, dialling back, I aspire to be the mom who remembers to shave her armpits. Armpits is such a gross word. Underarms? Also yuck.