Fruitful: I miss my wife.

I miss my wife.

Don't get me wrong, I love Nicole as she is, very pregnant with our future offspring.  She is putting up with an awful lot and she has handled it incredibly well.  Were I in her position, I would be bitching and moaning until the cows come home, and I'm not even sure what that means.  She's more uncomfortable on a daily basis than I am at a company picnic, and that's saying something.  I just hope I've been able to make this whole thing easier on her in some way.

But sometimes I miss pre-pregnancy Nicole.

And, no, before you get all gross on me, I'm not talking about sex or anything relating to sex, you dirty pervs.

What I'm talking about is the two of us splitting a bottle of wine (and her drinking half a glass of a second bottle and leaving me to drink the rest by myself) on a Saturday night while we watch movies.  I miss playing Monopoly and drinking champagne on New Year's Eve.  I miss Nicole, while running errands on a Saturday, blurting out that we should stop at Starbucks so she can get a latte.

It's not the caffeine and alcohol, it's what came with the caffeine and alcohol.  And it's not just that.

I miss the weekends when we didn't have a laundry list of things to do, all of which involve getting ready for the baby to arrive.  I miss not thinking more than a week in advance.  I miss going to the movies, going out to dinner, staying up past 11.  I miss all those pre-pregnancy things.

I know Nicole misses these things, too.  I know it because she tells me.  I know she's starting to reach that point in the pregnancy where she's over it.  She's to the point now where she's experienced the miracle that is being pregnant and she's ready to move on to the next step.  She'd like to not have to put her feet up every night when she gets home from work or have trouble tying her shoe laces.

Of course things will never be the way they were.  We're going to be parents soon.  That pre-pregnancy life
has gone the way of the dodo.  But there is a happy medium, I think.  Our kid isn't always going to be a baby.  There will come a time, I'm told, that he'll sleep through the night, even be able to entertain himself for long periods of time.  But that's not happening any time soon, and if my wife has her way, there's going to be another hot on his heels.

I suppose it's ultimately a lot like how I miss Los Angeles.  It's hard for me to even think about L.A. and not missing living there.  It's almost hard to explain (lord knows I've tried) if you've never lived there.  But I know for a fact that I'm far too old to really enjoy living there any more. That is a town for young people, and as young as I may act, I've still out grown it.

And that's how I miss pre-pregnancy Nicole.  I miss the way things were before everything was about this little person we're bringing into the world.  But that was a different phase of my life, and I have no doubts that as this new moves forward, I may miss the old one, but I wouldn't want to go back there.

Still, I'm looking forward to that first post-pregnancy bottle of wine with my wife.  I know she is, too.

Week 35!!