I just got back to England after a glorious two and a half weeks back home in California. The fact that the trip has come and gone already is unbelievable to me. It feels like I looked forward to it FOREVER. The adjustment back to the UK has been hard, because putting 6,000 miles between me and
Target my family and friends who are so excited for the baby was pretty traumatic. However, England has been kind to me – the last two days have been the warmest, most gorgeous days of spring, which makes leaving the endless summer of Southern California a little less upsetting.
I flew into LAX on a Wednesday night, saw my grandparents and great aunts, and then decided it was time for bed when I got dizzy after being up for 27,000 hours. Thursday morning, I was 22 weeks exactly, so I rolled out of bed in the room that was once The Middle Child’s and took this photo:
Everyone was aghast at how small I was. They were all kind enough not to say anything about how I still don’t have an ass.
The first week I was home, I saw tons of people near and dear to me, and ate all the food. I also:
1) Found Hershey’s Eggs my parents’ refrigerator, which was a comforting sign that nothing ever really changes:
2) Hung out with Fertile Myrtle and Fiece #1 and 2:
3) Spent a lot of time reveling in the fact that I could be outside and comfortable, without battling wind, rain, humidity, mist, or bone-chilling damp:
4) Experienced many pregnancy-related skin fun times, including this random cheek bone hive:
5) And took a long walk in the hills with my mom, on a pleasant morning that quickly turned into a blazing hot day:
Then, it was all about Mexican Fiesta Baby Shower Preparation. My mom had conscripted all the members of my family into Baby Shower Prep for weeks before I got home, so I missed out on most of the work. However, I am now super proficient at creating tissue paper flowers, having toiled for hours with my grandma and great aunt pulling apart thousands of sheets of colored paper until our fingers bled all over them.
The baby shower itself was one of the most magnificent things I’ve ever seen. My mom, along with her crew of unsuspecting family members, worked so hard to make everything so colorful and detailed and thoughtful and thematic. There were tons of games, onesies for people to decorate, trays of tacos and mini burritos catered by my favorite Mexican restaurant, and most importantly: churros. In addition, my mom decorates one hell of a cake, which shouldn’t surprise me anymore, as she’s done it my whole life. However, I’m still always amazed.
The amount of time, energy, and Pinterest-trolling that went into the shower was incredible. Thank you, Mom! It was fabulous!
We used the cake to do a gender reveal for the family members who hadn’t had the surprise blown for them by either my mom or me throughout the week leading up to the shower (as it turns out, starting conversations about circumcision and asking for advice on dyeing a cake blue are both really good ways of indirectly telling people what the sex of a baby is):
We were so, so fortunate – people gave us so many fabulous things. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about buying the baby any clothing until he’s 20.
And, because we set up an Amazon.co.uk registry, tons of things were sent directly to our house in England, meaning that we’re currently swimming in delivery boxes that are just waiting to be moved to our new place next month. I can’t wait to build the nursery glider and the stroller, but The Boyfriend (The Grinch) insists it will be easier to move them while they’re still boxed up. THANKS, OBAMA.
While I was home, it was also Fiece #1’s fourth birthday, which I can’t even believe. Fertile Myrtle and I brought mini cupcakes to her preschool classroom, where her evil teacher sat all the kids down to watch the Fiece eat a cupcake while they had to wait to eat theirs for two hours until after lunch.
Then we went home to open presents. The Fiece told me she was really into the new Lego Friends line of Lego, which is all painted-on eyelashes and ice cream shops and purple and pink and while I loved that she is into building with Legos now, I just could not with the totally gendered Lego Friends line. So, I did what any self-respecting adult does when giving gifts to a child: I got her something I would have wanted. Namely, I threw her a bone and got one set of Lego Friends (the vet ambulance, which seemed to be the least offensive) and then bought a bunch of pirate Legos, which came with a cannon that actually shoots pieces, a skeleton, a treasure box, and a shark with a mouth that opens and closes.
Basically, I think I did a really good job.
Then, on my last night at home, the family celebrated Passover. To celebrate the occasion, my father, who has been married to my Jewish mother for 30 years, brought (French) macaroons from a cool new bakery in downtown Los Angeles. It was an adorable, delicious mistake.
I left California two weeks and one pair of maternity pants after arriving.
Everyone was aghast at how huge I got.
I already can’t wait to go home again.