We celebrated my mother's 65th birthday today with a lovely dinner at East Side Cafe, one of my favorite Austin restaurants and one I knew my mom liked since she didn't know where to eat. My dad drove down from Arlington to surprise her - successfully - and we managed to take our four-day old Darrell with us without a peep. They put us in the garden room, which was perfect because it was empty when we arrived (though full by the time we left), and Darrell slept peacefully in his car seat carrier at my feet for the entire meal.
I was surprised that I didn't want to order any alcohol, though I wouldn't have anyway because I didn't think enough time would pass before his next feeding. The whole time I was pregnant, I really missed having a drink now and then. Here I was no longer pregnant, and I didn't even desire a glass of wine or margarita. It was nice to go out for dinner though - I actually felt semi-normal for the first time in a while!
Later on, however, the hormones hit me harder than they have so far and I felt anything but normal. I started feeling overwhelmed again by the whole experience of taking care of Darrell and probably dreading the nighttime a little bit. While in the bathroom I started crying, which made for an amusing scene when Darrell knocked and came in to give me the first piece of his (wonderful!) homemade baked bread and found me bawling. He asked what was wrong, but all I could say was "I don't know - nothing - just overwhelmed - it's these damn hormones!" I told him that I'd thought I might not have the crying bouts I was warned about because I'd be conscious enough of my raging hormones that they wouldn't bother me. Yea, um, I was wrong. He laughed and said, "I never thought you'd be immune." He's seen me crying enough to be a bit more realistic than me, I guess.
[Note: This entry was written 6/17/10 and backdated.]
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