I actually did okay last weekend. My law school BFF was in town from London with her new little guy, so it was a crazy weekend. She has one speed: frenetic. She arrived in DC from her parents' house in SC where she has been visiting. She spent time with one of her sisters and a friend before heading out to her cousin's house in the mountains. I drove out to meet them there on Saturday, about three hours through the mountains of western Maryland. It was absolutely gorgeous, and her eclectic cousins have a beautiful house. They made a fantastic dinner, complete with a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine (I had to have a little; I mean, I'm surely not buying a $250 bottle of wine anytime soon). Dessert was some amazing looking imported brie (I abstained) and some Dom Perignon (you bet I had half a flute!) while we played board games. Such a fun night!
On Sunday, we had coffee and breakfast while chatting in the kitchen, then began the long process of packing up the wee baby's belongings. For someone so tiny, he sure requires a LOT of crap. I drove like a ninny all the way home because his British car seat was freaking me out. It's a 3 point harness instead of 5, and it just didn't seem like the seatbelt was holding it in place securely, and you definitely can't break someone else's baby, so yeah, I drove like my grandmother all the way home. Upon arriving home (perfect angel baby slept the WHOLE way), the mad rush was on, as we had two hours until all of our law school friends were coming for dinner. I threw together a double batch of Ina Garten's mac & cheese (because I am pathologically incapable of preparing an appropriate amount of food for parties and always waaaaay over do) and stuck Smitten Kitchen's brisket in the oven to reheat. I biffed the brisket because I wasn't thinking and shredded it rather than slicing, but it was fine and the mac & cheese was amazing. It was great to see everyone, and the baby was lovely, being passed from person to person without complaint.
When it was over, I was exhausted, but couldn't believe I got through it feeling ok, seeing as I had barely left the house most weekends in the previous month. I almost thought that maaaaybe I was turning a corner, but HAAAAA, NOPE. I was back to wallowing in misery in my bathtub by this weekend. I did wash a load of laundry and cleaned the kitchen, though. WIFE OF THE YEAR.
11w1d today; next appointment isn't until the 20th. PLEASE GOD, let me remain sane while waiting for the next check up, and PLEASE, PLEASE let this 12-weeks-as-turning-point rumor be true, I AM BEGGING YOU.