We’ve discovered a new favorite show. Storage Wars. It’s awesome. Watch for yourself and see.

Benefits of being up right now:

1. It’s nice to write in pre-dawn silence knowing that the phone won’t ring and you don’t have to rush anywhere soon.

2. Discovering that a neighbor, somewhere, has a rooster. So at least you’re not the only one awake.

3. Ok, there’s no number three. I’m really quite sleepy, but the wet spot is in an inconvenient place and I don’t want to turn on the hair dryer and wake up T. I could sleep in another room but that just seems odd, doesn’t it?

I am trying to imagine myself even more tired than this, with a baby latched to my breast, staring at it and worrying about its present and future. The worrying is the most frightening aspect of parenthood for me. I try very hard to live without stress and while I’ve had my irrational moments, I’ve been fairly successful up until now in either being selfish (like I was in my college days) or leaving it up to God (a MUCH better and peaceful way to live). I’ve always tried my best to live without regrets, to accept the bad with the good, and to simply trust that, somehow, it does all work out, even if it’s not until after we’re dead. But it’s easy to do that when you’re primarily concerned with yourself. Not so easy when it involves other people, and especially when it’s your own child.

I am beginning to feel the edges of worry already for this creature inside of me. It frankly freaks the hell out of me. This concept of loving someone THAT much? On the one hand, I want to experience it, because I think it would help me understand (or at least tolerate more) my mom’s sometime (more often lately) insanity. On the other hand, sh*t.

T already loves this baby as if it’s already out and crawling around. He stares at and touches my belly and talks to the baby in such a tender and achingly sweet way that doesn’t really surprise me (you should see him with our teddy bears… shhhh… secret…) but still, well, surprises me. His affection I anticipated. He’s shown me no less in our decade-long relationship. But there’s a love for this baby that just leaks out of him. It’s like how they say the pregnant mom is glowing. Well, in our case, it’s the hubby.

I’m not at that stage yet. I’m just trying to stave off any morose thoughts about death and pain and helplessness. You know, trying to keep it light…

Yesterday, T rubbed my belly and said, with such innocence and longing, “I want to feel the baby move too.” Keep in mind that I’m not sure I actually felt the baby yet. I still think it might have been some gas, since it’s not consistent and frankly, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be feeling. All it was was a series of light rhythmic jabs on the lower left side of my abdomen a couple of days ago, but nothing since then. So I still attribute it to gas. But he seems convinced that it was actually the baby because his gas has never jabbed at him from the inside… who knows… His desire to experience as much as he can out of this pregnancy is pretty endearing though. I wonder, if he could, if he would switch places with me. I certainly wouldn’t mind.

I wonder if the spot’s dry enough to sleep on yet…

Dinner at Spago was excellent as usual. The date cake dessert is yum, not at sweet as I feared when I ordered it. Paired with coffee, it’s YUM. Our friend ordered the Kaiserschmarren, which was just humongous and I’m certain, delicious, but I was too full to sample some. T had the caramilk chocolate bar, also simple and sweet, and by his judgment, “better than Melisse.”

I didn’t take pictures, because I just don’t really do that anymore unless it’s at a place I’ve never been before and it’s a super special occasion like a birthday or an anniversary… Although maybe I should have busted out my camera because…

Kelsey Grammer dined at a table near us but we didn’t notice until dessert. I could have sneaked some pics while pretending to document the Kaiserschmarren.

It was most interesting to me to see the paparazzi outside of the restaurant as we left. (Mr. Grammer had left ten minutes ahead of us.) I had actually never seen paparazzi in real life before. And then to see them all scrambling to their cars and calling out to each other on tips of the next locale… really bizarre. They were headed to Fairfax and Venice, incidentally. Not sure if they were following Mr. Grammer, or there was someone else they were targetting. T would not let me follow them.

Anyway, now I’m home in my comfy pjs, ready to snuggle up with my teddy bears, and read some before I pass out. Sweet dreams, again.