I've been caught inside my head a bit lately. Here's a bit of what's been going on in here.
I've been thinking a lot about one of my first best friends, Jimmy Mills. Maybe it's the time of year, or maybe it's a natural part of first pregnancy to reconsider everything in your life before it drastically changes. For whatever reason, I've been missing him quite a bit. From the moment we met in first grade, we seemed to always be in on the same joke, even though we were completely different. When we weren't having some stupid spat, we were inseparable. I'd go over to his house and he'd try to teach me to skateboard, or we'd walk down the street to his grandmother's house, and she'd tell us about his grandfather and the war. We'd go to the rink and couple skate. He gave me a ring. I really wish I still had it; I probably gave it back to him in some crappy young kid way. Of course, I was madly in love with him. But that's hard to show when you're seven.
I never got to see Jimmy grow up; none of us did. He was killed almost 20 years ago, riding his bike. I miss you, buddy.
Also, Mother's Day was this weekend. I have definitely been missing my mom. At our birthing class on Thursday, our teacher said we should try to resolve any unresolved grief or conflict about our parents before we become parents ourselves. I pretty much abandoned any hope of that, since unresolved conflicts are my predictable best friends. So it went right out of my mind almost as soon as she said it.
But then the next day I was watching a show I'm too embarrassed to name, in which a little girl loses her mom. And I just cried a long and ugly cry. I don't know what is more odious, the constant manipulation of this Show That Shall Not Be Named, or the fact that I fall for it every. Single. Time.
Anyway, those have been on my mind a bit. And a few other things. But mostly I'm pretty happy about this little guy, and thinking about what his personality will be, and just loving him, loving him, loving him.