Drowing in Boredom (Also, Water)

There's nothing like lying in bed all day to get my mind off of how much danger my unborn children are in. It's a total distraction from how massively worried I am that (a) I will go into labor any second or (b) Baby B is being so squished his tiny body is failing under the pressure.

And if any of you can drink 120 ounces of water a day (during a day you spend almost constantly partially or fully reclined) without getting massive reflux, you're a better woman than me.

So to distract me from each day's 24 hours of possible insanity, I've decided to pick up a few new skills. First, I want to learn to crochet or knit. I want to make a couple of tiny baby hats to illustrate head sizes for each month I'm pregnant until they come out. Then, no matter when it happens, they will have hats.

I've always had a come-and-go fancy to learn the acoustic guitar. Heaven knows I'm a sucker for acoustic music, and how cool would it be if babies' first lullabies could reverberate right off my belly? So cool! Does anyone have an extra? Maybe send me your husband's from back when he was using it to try and pick up chicks.

I would use the time to write, but frankly my brain is on the fritz. And I mean the severe fritz. This must be what people just above the mental retardation IQ border feel like. I can still enjoy a good read and make sense of the same things—it just takes a lot longer. And my attention span is short. Ask anyone who's tried to converse with me in the last few months. Don't ask me. I won't be paying attention by the time we get to the question mark. I've put this blog entry down no less than five times already.

My current time-suck is losing game after game of spider solitaire on medium difficulty. I could really use a new sudoku book, but that stuff has melted my brain plenty already. So what I want from you is a mindless hobby you love. The busier it keeps my hands, the better. I have to be able to do it in bed, put it down at a moment's notice when I need to, and keep pressure or strain off of my stomach. Wacky arm movements are probably a bad idea, too.

In fact, this question might be better posed to the residents of a convalescence home. We share a few important traits: slow brains, an inability to exercise, and bodies that can't take a lot of pressure. Then again, they, like me, might have difficulty focusing long enough to give a coherent answer.

Still, I can't complain. Even a pregnancy with severe complications has turned out to be more fun than gainful employment!