whimsy :: a playful or amusing quality, a sense of humor or playfulness.
As you may recall, whimsy is my word of the year – and while there was a wild amount of whimsy in the months of December, January and early February, much of it centered around that secret thing called First Trimester. The world’s best-kept secret is being housed in your nether regions, but initially, you don’t realize it for a good while, and after that, you’re not supposed to tell the world about it.
And so you keep your whimsy-filled trap shut. But still…
You marvel at the fact that you went to Nordstrom Rack just a few weeks’ into pregnancy, marveling at the weight you seemed to be gaining for no apparent reason. You buy not one, not two, but three new pairs of pants, because you just want some jeans that fit, dag nabbit!
Oh, Whimsy, you silly thing you.
You stagger a laugh when you’re away for a writing weekend with Erin and Jeannie-friend; and after a merry night of Chardonnay and sangria and ceviche alike, you wonder why, on all weekends of the year, you end up with the 24-hour flu that’s going around. “Unless, of course, I’m pregnant again…” you muse aloud to Erin, remembering how your body couldn’t tolerate alcohol with your first pregnancy. Later, when you realize that your musings were correct, you just shake your head.
Is all of life this whimsical?
And then it’s Christmas day: again, you seem to have caught this icky bug going around, but since the HBH seems to have it too, you deem it food poisoning. That day, you stay in your pajamas until the early hours of the afternoon, and eventually you find yourself “talking” to your family over Skype. Merriment abounds, and although you still don’t even know it yourself, at one point you stand up from your chair and turn to the side – wherein your mother, your father, your sister and your brother-in-law all turn to each other from that side of the camera, and mouth, “She’s pregnant?!” They see your belly. They know this protruding look of an expectant mama’s stomach. They realize you’re knocked up before you do.
Whimsy happens, people. It happens.
And you think about these stories, these tales of little and big, of delight and woe, and you laugh. These everyday snapshots amuse your insides and they tickle your heart strings. You find yourself approaching the day with a lighter step, because this little slice of humor-pie has landed on your plate. And, just as whimsy graced your life in the barren winter months, its playfulness will continue to dance beside you …if, of course, you’re willing to see it.
Whimsy, come my way, come what may. I double dog dare you.
What about you? How has whimsy danced across your stage as of late? And more importantly, how excited are you for once-a-week stories of pregnant delight? It happens, friends. It happens.