Yesterday afternoon, I did my first tanning session in preparation for our holiday. B is super organized and managed to go and get us both cards for the local tanning place so that we can get a base tan before going and take full advantage of the beach when we arrive. He doesn't have to worry so much since he has such think chest, leg, arm hair that the sunny barely reaches his skin. He is secretly more concerned with maximizing his tan, I suspect. I, on the other hand, break out in an itchy rash on my arms if I start to get too much sun. Have you ever tried covering your forearms but no other part of your body when outside? Its nearly impossible. But unless I am slathered in 30 SPF sunscreen from sunrise til sunset, I develop this rash the first few days I am out in the sun and then am forced to sit in the shade for a week while it fades. So, despite the inconvenience? I will be running over to the "ovens" every other day for 10 minutes for the next three week building up a nice glow. Secretly, I love the feeling of climbing in the oven on a cold cold February day. Always makes me think of Hansel and Gretal.
I think that I was a bit ambitious running straight from the tanning bed to the swimsuit shop, though. I was so pleased with my weight loss and Pilates results that I thought even my pale white body would look OK under the shop lights. Wrong wrong wrong. Have decided to put off the bikini purchase until the end of the month. Besides, since the sales are officially still on, could hardly find anything out on the racks. And all that happened is once again, I ended up in the shoe section looking through the sale racks. I have been having dreams about those pretty gold Balenciaga heels, they are so inexpensive its just a shame to not buy them. I think that I deserve a medal for walking away and leaving them there. Honestly, I don't go out enough to justify buying them. Too many things in my closet already just gathering dust.
This is practically the best motivation for getting a job. I need a place to go every day, a place that does not require me to spend money but does require me to be a bit more inventive in my wardrobe choices, although just watch- I'll find a job in a casual office where the "uniform" is jeans, white t-shirt, wooly sweater. The only thing that I'll need to do is trade in my lovely isotoner slippers for a pair of loafers. Would the universe be that cruel? I might have to start carrying around more change for the homeless or something to work on getting some good karma out there in the universe. Actually, my project for this afternoon when Ella is napping is to re-do my CV for a job that I spotted the other day. I'm not pushing myself- in order to not get overwhelmed all I have to do to consider the day a success if finish one task on my to-do list. Writing a cover letter can be for tomorrow. Sending it all out can wait til Monday. OK, its not the most efficient way to do things, but its better than throwing myself into bed in tears and exhaustion from the mere thought of the mountain of things I need to do. Not that I have ever done anything as melodramatic as that, obviously.
I already did one little project today and brought up a box of baby clothes from the cave. I promised my sister a box of Ella's baby clothes if the ultrasound showed that the new baby would be a girl. She's very sceptical of the results, but is telling us that there is a 70% chance that her third (and last, god willing. That girl thinks about sex and gets pregnant) child will finally be of the female variety. Its shocking to see how tiny these clothes are- and I remember that Ella was just swimming in them for the first 2 months. God, its weird how you just forget things. Doesn't seem possible, let alone normal, that she was that small. Of course, when you are on the other side, waiting for the baby to be born (more specifically, find his way from the inside to the outside), you look at those same little pyjamas and pray that your baby will not be big enough to wear them for months and months.
I was really surprised to be feeling a bit sad about shipping all the pretty little things off. I'm really happy for her and was thrilled to hear that she would be having a girl. I immediately volunteered to send her everything I had. Its not that I am at all interested in having another baby, and I am way to practical just to keep that sort of thing around because one day I will have fun looking at it and remembering when Ella was a baby. But it does sort of feel like I'm giving away her babyhood. It wasn't so bad packing things into boxes and sending it down to the cave. But getting rid of it and knowing I'll probably never see those things again? I am feeling really sad. Not broody, just notalgic. And it was AWFUL when she was that little. The lack of sleep. God. I still turn with wonder to B almost every evening (not making this us) and say to him "Isn't it fantastic how she just lays down and goes to sleep? Isn't she just the sweetest child alive, not crying at us?" The scars run deep, my friends. So what do I think I am missing? Hmm.