The Boy

The Boy has been making his presence known. Very known.

Known at 3am when I'm trying to sleep. Known during church. Known at work when I'm receiving instructions and should be paying attention he starts to hammer away at my insides so that I can't really think about anything else. Known by using my bladder as a trampoline and my stomach for a punching bag. It's all making me a little seasick.

It's finally gotten to the point where I'm a bit worried he's rearranging the furniture in there.

Incidentally, we've named the boy. Actually, the Boy has been named for quite some time, but we're waiting to tell the Internet until he actually gets here and I get to see with incontrovertible evidence that he is indeed a HE. I have these odd dreams that when he's delivered he's actually a SHE and the poor child will be wearing nothing but BLUE and PLAID for the first 6 months of her life because Mama was so convinced she was having a BOY.

And while the family and select friends know The Name I continue to gratefully appreciate their continued silence on this subject. Anyone who has read this post knows how HARD it was for us to even find a name that would work. At all. We also have a girl named lined up, just in case the dreams become reality.

Please don't steal our joy.

In other news, virtually my entire family is sick. My Grandma has been in this rehab facility because she went and got herself a new Hip, because at 91 when she's got one of everything, that's what she really needed. Anyway, her roommate got really sick (the Family is convinced that it's because the facility wasn't cleaning the bathroom. At all. GROSS.) and she actually had to go to the hospital with it. Then last week my Grandma got it and then my parents and then my sister and I have no idea what I did to deserve the miracle, but I was mercifully spared.

So I've spent the weekend in isolation in order to try to stay healthy. It's also our Church's semiannual conference so we've hung out at home and done chores that have needed to be done for WEEKS and listened to conference.


There's news on the Husband front as well. See. In the department in which the Husband is a graduate student there are two degree "paths." One is Policy. Those are the guys who work for the government, are consultants, or do research. For the rest of their lives. The other path are the Bosses. As in the Bosses of doctors, nurses and other hospital staff. When the Husband applied to the program, I gently urged him towards the Bosses side of things. I just felt he was more suited to that sort of work. But he was more interested in the Policy side of things. See. The Husband has this lovely desire to want to change the world and make it a better place. Which is great. Which is necessary. But which is ultimately futile. Anyway, it's been a while in coming but I think he had a bit of a breakthrough this past week in realizing that a) he hates research and does NOT want to do that for the rest of his life and b) he doesn't want to be a consultant either. So what was to be done? He switched programs. It means he'll have a crazy-busy year next year to make up the few classes he's missed, but I think that he'll be much happier in the long run. He'll end up working in a hospital somewhere and while he may not change the world, he may get to effect change for one small corner of it.

In the meantime, Nesting has hit me, but since we're apartment hunting I can't really do much *here* so I'm one big ball of irritable frustration, and it would seem that I'm going to be this way until we move. In JUNE. I'm never gonna make it. We have a couple of leads that we're going to drive by and check out sometime today. Hopefully, one or the other will work out because I HATE hunting for real estate.