I’ve hit the point in my pregnancy when I have to see my OB every couple of weeks. Luckily, my doctor has been awesome in her timeliness, so these visits have not eaten up as much of my days as I feared they would.
Though I usually snag the first appointment of the day, I always have about 45 minutes from the time I drop the heathens off at school, to the time I need to report to my OB for another devastating date with her evil, lying scale. (note to self—that weight probably isn’t going to come off as easily as it came on, and I doubt Bean is 30+ pounds, so you really need to quit deluding yourself and put down the chocolate)
Annnnyyyway, those extra 45 minutes are a rare occurrence in my otherwise frantic days, and if I weren’t quite so exhausted, I could probably use them productively. For example, I could run home and fold a load of laundry, or clean a bathroom. I could probably even mop my kitchen floor, which still looks like a Rorschach test after an unfortunate orange juice incident earlier this week.
Sure, I could squeeze another iota of productivity out of myself during those few extra minutes on doctor appointment days…but I don’t. Instead, I go to Starbucks, order a hazelnut cappuccino and a cinnamon-chip scone, and spend 30 minutes lounging in a comfy chair, reading my Kindle Fire. As an enormously pregnant, sleep-deprived, working mom, those 30 minutes are like a mini-vacation, and stealing them for myself is a wonderful treat in this final sprint to the pregnancy finish-line.
The kitchen floor will still be there later, as will the laundry and the science-experiment-bathroom. Especially the bathroom…I live with three guys, after all.