Time Flies When You're Having Fun...

...Which isn't really the best description for the last four weeks. Four weeks? Has it really been that long?

If I may paraphrase some anonymous reader's recent comment, this is piss-poor blogging. But as my more annoying grade 8's often say to me: it's not my fault.

Life in and around the Coquitlam neighbourhood has been busy and sickly. My job with the grade 8's has left me working regular 10-12-hour days, and each Tuesday & Thursday has my night-school teaching adding on another 2-hours.

Meanwhile, Kristina has been getting the shaft on this whole pregnancy deal. She feels sick all the time, has trouble holding her meals & drinks down, and is feeling more tired than she's ever felt in her life.

Kristina is just beginning to show now, which, by the way, makes me happy since it's actually starting to seem somewhat real for me as well. Up until now, the only change I've noticed in expecting a baby is that I've ended up doing more housework. She hasn't said as much, but I imagine that's about the only thing Kristina would be able to get used to.

Last month, I had to leave Kristina to fend for herself for a few days. My grade 8's and I went on a camping trip to Loon Lake for three days. It was a good experience -- much like last spring's -- but fatigue was a big concern. From seven in the morning to eleven at night, it's virtually constant supervision of a bunch of hormonally-charged, sugar-high (they snuck their own candy up), attention-deficit 13-year olds.

I brought up some Tylenol, and that was a good thing.

In recent news, there was a incident where an Indo-Canadian, 30-year old, pregnant, elementary school teacher was found dead and burned in Delta. That alone has been a huge, disturbing, and very sad story; but last week I suffered my first, real, serious experience of worrying.

Kristina had gone out for the evening to a book-club meeting with some girlfriends from work. But after midnight, as I was getting ready for bed, she still hadn't returned home. This was very much unlike her, particularly in light of her continuous sickly feeling.

Then my mind started going on it's own... That murder victim was 30. Teen is 30.

The victim was pregnant. Kristina's pregnant.

She was a teacher. Kristina's a teacher.

And she was a elementary school teacher. Teen's an elementary school teacher!

... Beep-beep-boop-beep. Ring-ring... ring-ring. No answer.

Crap. Where is she?! Then, a few minutes later, she calls back. "I'm OK. I'm still at book-club."

This parenting thing is going to be a nightmare.