Simone is four months old today and like clockwork, I received the auto-hospital generated e-mail that cheerily blathered about how delightful four months is with those games of peek-a-boo and hearty laughter. She does not do Peek-a-Boo, no way. When I pop out from behind my hands and shout "peek-a-boo" she just looks at me with a kind of puzzled disgust like, "You put your hands over your face and took them off and what -? You're looking for some kind of reaction but what -?" No gales of laughter, obviously. The closest I have come to gales of laughter is chanting "hummnnumnunmmmm" in a deep voice in her face which apparently works on her the same way Jermaine (Flight of Conchords) singing "Business Time" - especially the part about the t-shirt from the team building exercise 1999 - works on me. Anyway. Last night I had to take her to a very important couldn't miss it even with no babysitter 1.5 hour meeting for a project I'm volunteering with and keep her quiet the whole time. THE WHOLE TIME. There is this new brittle edge of anxiety I've adopted where we enter a public place and the countdown to the inevitable meltdown begins. Meals are wolfed down, carts hurried through aisles. I am not enjoying this. I like to laze and loll and enjoy, not keep a watchful eye on the ticking timebomb. Le sigh. On the other hand, I do love her rather tremendously, though still not in the way I've read about. I'm beginning to wonder if that "mama bear" protective instinct doesn't always flower. If I'm a different type of Mother altogether. Likely.

Speaking of Mothers, my first offical Mothers Day was awesome because I did every little thing I wanted. AH got up with the baby and delivered me my Sunday NY Times, a bloody mary and a cup of coffee and a warning to stay in bed until breakfast was ready. Okay, fine. Breakfast was delicious, he is seriously a breakfast wizard - scramble with scapes, pea shoots, garlic, cheese, green chile potatos with capers, toast and strawberries. And mimosas. I drank more before noon than I did my whole pregnancy. Which isn't much, I hasten to add. And hw gave me my gift cert to the spa, which I am very much looking forward to.
Then I got to go the Thrift store ALONE where all books were 50 cents, which is how it should be, so I loaded up with crazy old books only I could love. And then directed us to the art gallery. And then the coffee shop. And the library for movies. And the store for Smartfood and Green and Black chocolate.
We watched There Will Be Blood which I am kind of longing to discuss my theories about in-depth with someone.

All the goodness kinda sorta covers up that I am waiting on job interview results and scholarship applications and green cards and a daycare for gods sake to call me back, goddamnit. The waiting is just about killing me.