A Newsletter of Sorts

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Well, hey. I just wanted to cave into the boring trend of explaining long blog hiatuses.

What happened was, three weeks of illness, long work hours, and the third trimester.

In other words, I did not think any coherent thoughts during the past month. Zero. I just cried randomly.

I’ve begun thinking coherent thoughts again, thoughts like, “I only have a few weeks left before my self study course is due” and “I need to finish the baby registry” and “Shoot, I’ve got to sew that crib sheet before my sister takes her sewing machine away from me.”

And lots of great blog content, too, actually, but I’m in that intellectual funk where I can talk to myself in car about it all day long but go blank when I try to write about it. You know what I mean? It’s not writers’ block; I just need lots of mental bandwidth before I can write well, before I get just the right angle that captures exactly what I want to say.

Until then, you get these little updates:

30 Rock is the best, funniest, only comedy I’ve wanted to watch in its entirety. Like all good things, it got booted off Netflix and forced me to stay one step ahead of my bingewatching by ordering it from a neighboring library. Which leads me to this existential crisis: If Netflix never has anything good, and I can get everything I want for free from the library, why am I still paying money for this? Great question, Bailey.

Nesting is an actual thing, and it’s happening in bizarre ways. Remember me, the girl who hates homemaking? I don’t know where she went. Whenever I get upset at odd hours of the night, I’m up and scrubbing dishes, vacuuming, and picking Kleenex and empty pizza boxes off the floor. I’ve currently got three different projects started — repainting the changing table, sewing a crib sheet, and sewing a lovey. And my Pinterest boards are exploding with more projects I plan to do before Baby Stegersaurus comes.

Lesson planning is my absolute favorite. I am obsessed with creating unit studies, setting up invitations to play, and reading preschool book reviews. I spent a whole weekend mapping out homeschool plans for my child’s early elementary years (because I’d already had his tot school and preschool lesson plans made months beforehand, duh). Hand in hand with that, I can’t stop reading Reggio Emilia-based blogs like An Everyday Story and The Imagination Tree.

I got into mommy Facebook groups. They are the best and the worst. Mostly the worst right now, because I have yet to desperately need support at 4 AM. There’s one mommy group that spends most of its time responding in GIFs to stupid questions. There’s another with drama queens who believe the world’s problems mostly stem from scheduled bedtimes (personally, I’m sitting here more worried about the impact of their inability to follow basic grammar and logic). Moms preface their behavior questions with, “And he doesn’t get any sugar, dyes, vaccines, or television, so I know that’s not the problem.” Nobody seems to be able to find common ground with moms who don’t agree with every tiny parenting decision she makes. And everyone’s child seems to have a sensory disorder, be autistic, or have ADHD, ADD, ODD, or other heretofore unknown combinations of letters. Oh, and everything my mom ever fed, gave, or applied to me causes cancer.

I can’t believe it took me this long to hop onto the Brené Brown bandwagon. Despite my sluggish reading of late, I breezed through her latest, Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone — which was not only a fabulous book itself but addressed everything I’ve been thinking about lately. (Check out my Goodreads page if you’re curious about what books I think I’m going to be able to read before the baby comes.)

And finally, pregnancy. I am 30 weeks along. Baby is doing fabulous; mama, not so much. I dislike being pregnant. A lot. Being the more cerebral type, I’ve always wondered what to do with my physical existence, but I haven’t encountered the sort of mind/body struggle you experience in pregnancy. I cry daily over some new or rediscovered limitation my body imposes on me — I feel incapable as a teacher because I can’t pick up crying children begging for “up” or remove three children vying for a spot in my limited lap space or pick up and redirect a naughty child, because I can’t move or breathe like a normal person. It’s a herculean effort to change sleeping positions — or worse, haul myself out of bed. (Erich is now used to me yelling for assistance or using his body as leverage.) Singing in the choir, my beloved, beloved hobby, has become a struggle due to sciatic pain or passing out cold due to anemia, less lung capacity, low blood sugar, or all the above. Everything physical is a struggle of some sort.

And none of my clothes fit.

But. I am thrilled to be a mom. Yes, we’ve had some stern talks, my son and I, about not going over the due date or jabbing me in the bladder. But I am so excited to meet him, pregnancy woes notwithstanding. I feel so close to him already, what with reading books and singing lullabies and referring to him by name. Erich and I finally agreed on a beautiful medieval German name that sounds modern and means, roughly translated, “your parents really can compromise!” I can’t wait to share it with you all once little Stegersaurus makes his appearance!

I’m looking forward to having more time and energy in a couple weeks to write. In the meantime, let me know what you’re up to!

8 thoughts on “A Newsletter of Sorts

  1. telltalesnotlies

    Isn’t it amazing that so many women have made it through pregnancy throughout the millennia and still got nick-named the weaker sex? You’re in the home stretch. I’ve learned after raising a child who actually does have one of those combinations of letters that the only valuable advice is the advice that actually works for the kid!


    • Bailey Steger

      Good point! Maybe because pregnancy pain and exhaustion is just one of those things where if you haven’t experienced it firsthand, it’s easy to dismiss. ;)

      That is so true. Some of my favorite students had a combination of those letters, and it’s such a personalized thing and so dependent on a good personal relationship between you and the child!


  2. heather

    You know your child is going to blow all your careful laid plans out of the water, right? That’s just how it works.
    I also advise staying far, far away from the mommy groups that are simmering with judgment and negatively. You’ll be doubting yourself enough enough already. You don’t need anyone piling on. Just go with what works for your family.


    • Bailey Steger

      Of course. :) I’m just a planner and a thinker. It’s part of my intellectual nesting period. ;)

      Thanks for that encouragement. I know there are plenty of moms who aren’t negative or judgie, but it’s hard not to let the negative, dogmatic, or judgmental ones get under my skin sometimes. And every mom’s group seems to be a mixed bag of those types of moms.


  3. Fran Johns

    I got the most profound sense of peace not that long ago when I quit worrying about trying to regularly post something profound and began to post only when I managed to find time & thought I had something worth saying to the ethersphere. Every week? Every other week? Every month or so? It matters not. What matters is when someone says a post was worth time to read, or (sometimes even more!) when someone I never laid eyes on sends a message that he or she hopes to see a new post soon. Happy last-trimester to you from this grandmother.


    • Bailey Steger

      Yes! Beautifully put. I try to guard my right to only write when I have something to say, not when someone (including a general readership or my own ego to keep up blog stats) wants me to. I write far more slowly now, but I’m more satisfied with both the process and the outcome.


  4. WorkinMama

    Glad to hear from you. Glad you’re OK. Third trimester can be rough. Mine used to poke me in the liver/gallbladder area, LOL. I would poke him right back and we would make a game of it!


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