Nelson is off to Spain. Well, technically he's sitting on the runway in Baltimore three hours delayed, but he's not here, that is for sure. His plane is having "mechanical problems" and although I'm not really afraid of flying, "mechanical problems" always freak me out just a bit.
Things tonight were fine - my brother cooked dinner, I gave Oscar his bath and got him to bed with little trouble.
I'm not panicking, not yet. I have a lot of help coming this week in the way of dinners and bath time thanks to my fantastic friends. If I weren't 30 weeks pregnant, I could manage physically just fine. But, at this stage in my pregnancy I really count on Nelson's help in the evenings. He gets me through, keeps me from melting down, assures me I am doing a fine job.
I say I'm not panicking but inside I'm all "OH MY GOD. How can I handle this on my own? What happens when I'm just too tired and too cranky and too sore? GAAAAHHH!"
I know I'll hold it together. Don't worry, I won't be a whining, blogging mess all week, I swear. I'll be back to my funny, touching, witty, [insert flattering word her], self. Promise.