A Random Collection of What's in my Head

Hi there.

Miss me?

It's been busy busy busy here and I haven't had time to write anything cohesive but I feel bad not writing anything at all, so I thought I would just assemble this random mish-mash in my head and let y'all sort it out at your leisure.

• I've given up my goal of reading 12 previously un-read by me books this year.  It's a hard year.  It's been a hard year.  I'm giving myself leave to reread to my heart's content this year and will try to do better next year.  That said, I'm up to my elbows in a series of novels that is less than...academic.  The first time I read them was the summer between my first and second years of grad school.  I had done the reading and prep work for the course I was to teach in the fall and had some time on my hands.  I literally laid, sat, lounged and read these books for the remaining 8 weeks of summer.  It was AWESOME.  The only problem is that when I reread them, I want to repeat the original experience and dag-nab-it but LIFE keeps getting in the way of my LOUNGING.
• I started running again.  What they say about muscle memory is true.  I didn't do ANYTHING at ALL, all winter long, and yet, it hasn't been bad at all.    I bought the Runner's World guide for women runners and I'm doing their 6 week training plan.  It's going well.  Not sore, no injuries.  I keep telling myself that my other muscles remember running so when my heart feels like it's going to collapse in a heap, I remind it that it is also a muscle and should remember that we used to do this.
• The Boy is getting more words here and there.  So far he says, pickle, daddy, purple, baby, chicken, bubble, peaches, whale, bye-bye, meow, and uh-oh.  He has other words that he uses for things-- goooo for pool, dat for that, buh for bird, dooo for shoes, BO for milk, choo-choo for train, geee for green,  ray-rays for raisins, ree-bees for frogs (he's going for ribbit there) and vroom for car.  He doesn't say no but rather shakes his head.  It's pretty amusing.  I keep thinking about when we went off the pill.  How freaked out I was.  And then when I got pregnant, I was scared scared scared.  And then when we brought him home and I cried and cried because I didn't know what I was doing.  And now I love him so much I can't imagine my life without him.
• Last night the Boy and I were hanging out waiting for Chris to come home for work.  We were both sitting in a big chair and cuddling and I was amusing myself by making odd faces at the Boy and he would try to imitate them and I would laugh hysterically and then he would laugh and then we would start all over again.  Who needs TV?
• My parents have been here this past weekend.  We had a great time!  The Boy especially.  He adores his grandparents and given how they dote and spoil him ROTTEN it's not hard to imagine why.  If they had treated me like that when I was a kid I NEVER would have left home.  But since they did NOT and I DID leave home, I have Chris and the Boy and a whole apartment full of books and a whole head full of cool but not terribly practical things I've learned.  It's a pretty fair trade.  
• I got an email from my brother.  He's...um...abroad...for his work...and while I know where he is I'd really rather not say because I am DISCREET like that.
• We're counting down how much time Chris has left at the hospital.  He's beyond ready to be done.  I'm ready for him to move on too.  And while I shan't miss Brunswick in the least, I shall miss my very lovely friends that I've made here.  I want to wrap them up and put them in my pockets and take them with me.  Also their adorable children who are much beloved of my Boy and I.  I was reorganizing in the Boy's closet the other day (packing up clothes which are too small for him but which fit him just FINE last summer) and I started to think about it and sat myself down and had a good cry right there.  I came here dead-set against making new friends and putting down anything resembling a root.  I wasn't going to break my heart again in saying good-bye.  And yet.  Here I am again.  I'm starting to wonder if it's just an inevitable part of human life.
• There's nothing like a boy HOWLING at the top of his lungs at 6:30 in the morning to get you up and out of a warm cozy bed to go run at DAWN.  I had planned to laze in bed for another hour and then go for a long walk at the park with the Boy instead of running but with that HOWL, I plopped him in his father's shower and went running instead.  
• Our anniversary is coming up and we have no plans so far.  Any suggestions?  We've talked about trying to take the weekend away...do something fun the 3 of us.  But since neither of us is planning anything what will likely happen is that we'll get Thai food for take out and watch a movie.  We are wild and crazy cats that way.

Well, I was going to try to come up with a 10th but all I can think about is the stuff that I need to get done that I'm not doing because I'm trying to come up with a 10th so I'm just off to get stuff done.

Peace out.

Feelin' BOR-ING

What do you guys do all winter long?

I'm not bored.  I'm actually quite content but I feel like I'm boring to read right now.  I'm sorry.  I'm off to New Mexico on the Grand Invasion next week.  I should get some good pictures and good stories to report from that...

For now, we're hanging out.  There are toys all over our living room.  We watch West Wing.  I crochet or knit--I'm working on two very different scarves at the same time.  We read a lot.  We cuddle under blankets and tell stories in hushed voices.  We play with toys from Christmas.  We eat lots of citrus and still have to wipe runny noses.

Chris is job hunting again.  So there's that familiar tension in the house again.

I've been able to successfully put off working out until I get back from New Mexico.  I figure, I don't work out when I'm traveling so there's very little point in working out this week only to take most of next week off...so I'll go back to ye old treadmill and yoga after New Mexico.  In the meantime I'm dreaming of really good Mexican food and laughing with my girls until I cry.

The Cats can't get enough of all the cuddling under blankets.  They're two furry purring machines.

I keep having weird dreams.  I blame falling asleep before I've properly warmed up.  Last night I dreamed that I had x-men mutant powers, some how I could contain and condense other mutant's powers.  Magneto and his gang of ruffians had kidnapped the Boy and wouldn't tell me where he was and I was containing and compressing his merry minions one by one while setting the place on FIRE with my MIND.

Yeah.  I know.  I didn't really have a point there did I?  Sorry about that.  Apparently, I shall go to New Mexico in search of really good Mexican food AND a point.

An experience in random

I'm feeling decidedly unfocussed lately.


Poor you.


Also poor Chris.


The Boy is in Heaven.  It means that our days are totally unstructured and I spend a lot more time wallowing on the floor with him or tickling or playing with toys that I don't normally play with.

I don't really know why I'm so unfocussed and disorganized, it's not NORMAL for me.  I can only assume it's a prolonged holiday hangover.  (We don't drink so by hangover I mean the over-eating, over-sugar, over-traveling, over-family, over-presents of the holidays.)  I'm trying to remember what I used to make for dinners before it was all pie all the time.  Last night I made pizza and my friend Mona said, "But it's Wednesday.  You make pizza on Mondays."  Which I vaguely remember, but it's almost cold here so I was craving warm pizza.

How's that for random?

I have this long list of things I was supposed to do this week but alas, poor Yorick, I have not done them. 

1. Bake Bread
2. Bake cupcakes for Friday play date
3. Play date Friday
4. Prepare lesson for church
5. Laundry
1. in my own defense the laundry is all CLEAN, I just have to finish folding it.
6. Write thank you notes
7. Blog 
8. Go and look at some furniture
1. Chris' boss's dad is selling the furniture in his condo now that his wife has died.  We want to go look at it in the hopes that it will be cheap and we'll like it and it will perhaps come to Burnstopia to provide us with more comfortable seating than our thoroughly mashed futon.
9. Schedule an oil change for Arabella
10. WASH Arabella

I could go on but it's kind of depressing me at this point since I feel like I've worked all week long but NOTHING on this list is actually done.

On a totally unrelated and therefore appropriately random note, I made some whole wheat spice muffins yesterday that turned out awesome.  Especially when one considers that I didn't have a recipe and was totally winging it.

Why is it that my child's favorite place to be in the entire world (of our apartment) is laying right under my feet?  I wish I was exaggerating, but alas, I am not.

Chris has applied for 2 jobs so far and both of us are trying not to talk about how much we hate the job hunting process.  HINT:  A LOT.

This is the first year since Chris and I were married that he's bought me a birthday present.  The year we were engaged he brought (they were FREE from Dad's store) me a small Swiss Army penknife and a pedometer because I lost my original Swiss Army penknife and he and I were having an on-going argument about relative walking distance.  (i.e. he thinks FAR is anything further away than a block.  I think FAR is 5 miles or more.)  After 5 and half years of marriage he's bought me another pretty-pretty bag off of ebay.  It's a diaper bag.  It's made by my favorite diaper bag designers.  Neither of us would EVER buy one for retail price because lo, they are RIDICULOUSLY priced.  But ebay always has them (and craig's list sometimes has them) and most of them are reasonably priced.  So while we were in NC for New Year's he bid on one and won it!  I'm giddy at the prospect of a bonafide birthday present from Chris.  It's a once every 6 year phenomenon (apparently) so I intend to enjoy it.

My feet are really cold right now.

I really should attempt to do something productive off of that list...

I made these reading goals for 2010, mostly composed of books that I've started at various points but never finished.  There are 12 of them.  So, theoretically, I need to read a book a month.  I'm currently working on Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy.  It's good, but it's also good and depressing.  I'm resisting the urge to shelve it in order to re-read Lord of the Rings again.

The reason I was thinking of Lord of the Rings is that part where they have to face the Balrog of Morgoth in Moria and Gandalf realizes what it is and he says, "A Balrog.  And I am already tired."  I love that.  That's how I feel lately.  Everything becomes a Balrog and I am already tired.

The Boy is toting around the new hair clippers I bought for Chris because his old ones broke.

All right.  This is going absolutely no where, I had hopes that I might be able to salvage it and you know, actually go somewhere with it.  But I have now realized that's not going to happen.  Here's hoping for greater focus next week.

A random and unconnected list of nonesense.

Why is it that when your child is sick you seem to have these reservoirs of patience that you don't have access to when they're healthy? The Boy is SICK (all caps), he's got a sinus infection and his first ever ear infection and let me tell you--it sucks. He and his mucus went to the doctor today and even the doctor was impressed with the state of infection in my child's facial orifices. He dispatched a prescription to the pharmacy and we picked it up and began it posthaste. Here's hoping he actually sleeps tonight.

***

I am getting sicker. If someone could please explain how I am supposed to take care of the aforementioned non-sleeping child while I am sick and also not sleeping, I welcome the advice.

***

I had arranged to have the same friend come in to take care of the cats while we were in New York and then in Callaway Gardens, only I told her the wrong dates for Callaway Gardens because there is too much (TOO MUCH) in my brain right now. The cats are fine, they were hungry when we got back and Leike was a bit sulky, but fine. I, on the other hand, am still eaten up with guilt.

***

I have been amusing myslef with C Jane's archives and Little Dorritt alternately. They're both lovely in their own ways.

***

As the mother of a currently sick child I would like to confess that I suck. I let him eat junk food (all he ate yesterday was pumkin bread and milk), watch movies (Little Dorritt, anyone?) and cuddle me until we're both sweaty. I get nothing done, I do nothing to enrich his mind or his body which, when you think about the fact that he's sick, seems sort of counterintuitive.

***

And on that note, I am throwing in the towel. I have not done laundry (though the pile is now so high that when you add something to it, it rolls down to the floor), I have not cleaned the apartment, I have not exercised, I have not made bread, read a book or written to my grandmother. I have done nothing but keep my child alive and realtively calm for the past two days and so far there is no relief in sight.

***

I have one more post from New York (at least) and at least one from Callaway Gardens, but they require editing and I have neither the time, energy, not mental facilities for it just now...just know that they're coming and they're somewhat entertaining. I can't promise completely entertaining until we're all healthy. So, November, right?



Someone cheer me up, please. What are you (or your kids) going to be for Halloween? I bought the Boy a little skeleton costume because I think the sight of it on his fluffy cloth diaper bum will be HILARIOUS and I am all about my own amusement for nonsensical holidays such as this one. Tell me that we will all be healthy again soon. Tell me what you're reading right now or what I should be reading if I weren't the chaise lounge for a sick child.

Morning Crack-up

I found this picture on msnbc and it was so awesome I had to post it.

It totally redefines co-sleeping.

Original from the Chicago Tribune.

The Randomness Thereof

I'm sorry.

I have nothing funny, intelligent or thought provoking to write this morning. All I have is a head full of random worries...a fretful head, if you will.

In no particular order these are the things swimming around in my gray matter.

• I think the Boy is working on two more teeth. His favorite thing to chew on is his sleeve. He catches it between his six (6!) front teeth and bites down and pulls it out until it snaps. It's pretty pitiful, especially when accompanied by his new whine.
• Chris interviewed in Brunswick. He liked the organization but is not so keen on the town itself so he is job hunting some more.
• our lease is up June 12th. JUNE 12TH! Which means we need to find a job, find a new apartment, pack and MOVE in 22 DAYS. I need to go lie down.
• That's a pretty hard thought to follow with other thoughts, and when it creeps up (which is often) I usually have to stew over it for a while.
• I have eaten my weight in chocolate lately, I need to try to go running.
• Basically, every time I think of that date, June 12th, I have a piece of chocolate while I mull it over in my fretful head.
• We have a lot of crap. I'm going to need a lot of boxes.
• We keep running out of stuff, I haven't stocked the apartment like usual because we have to MOVE in 22 DAYS, and I hate having to buy stuff when I know I'm just going to have to MOVE it...but lo, it's stuff we can't buy just 2 of...we have to buy packs of, oh 100. grrrrr.
• I bought these organic multigrain chips at Sams the last time we were there and I think I'm allergic to something in them. I ate a lot of nachos with them while Chris was gone and every morning I woke up with my eyes mostly swollen shut, which only happens with bad allergic reactions...I have no idea what it could be.
• I kind of want to read the China Study that everyone keeps going on about, but I'm also scared...I'm already more than a bit paranoid about the food industry.
• I need to pick up a couple of books on positive discipline but that involves a trip to Barnes and Noble, and no trip (for me) to Barnes and Noble is a quick trip--also, I don't want to MOVE them.
  
• We're out of cookies. I made some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies and yesterday I ate 5 of them. In ONE(1) day! And now we're out of them and that makes me SAD. How can I be expected to cope with all of this without these cookies?
• Chris and I watched season 3 of No Reservations and it really makes me want to go to French Polynesia and just "forget" to come home.
• I really want more of those enchiladas that Katrina made me...I think I shall attempt them.
• The Boy cracks me up...he's never met a piece of fruit he didn't like. So far he's up to: apples, bananas, blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, peaches, pears, pineapple, prunes, and apricots. Of course, the same doesn't hold true for vegetables. He's tried squash, sweet potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, potatoes, tomatoes, broccoli, peas, asperagus, green beans and butternut squash. And he currently eats sweet potatoes. No matter how I cook it, season it, present it; no matter what game, song, or silly face is involved...he clams up when that spoon comes in range. I have no idea what to try next.
• He will eat beans. Almost any kind, as long as there's no cayenne pepper in them, he'll eat them. I made some white beans with garlic, olive oil and italian herbs and he slurped it right up, it was adorable.
  
• People keep asking me if I'm going to raise him as a vegetarian. The answer is...meh. I don't know. I haven't decided against meat, he just happens to eat whatever I'm eating more often than not--which means that he's just sort of happening to be a vegetarian. But he's eaten chicken and fish before...his response is usually, meh.
• I have no idea how I got distracted with the Boy's eating habits...I was making a list about all my random worries...I guess I'm worried about what he eats.
• Jarlsburg cheese makes the best cheese sandwiches ever.
• I'm so not ready to move, people. Physically, spiritually, emotionally, grammatically, I'm just all kinds of NOT ready.
• I'm worried about my friend and her pregnancy.
  

Mad Skillz

I have some mad skillz, people.

And I thought you'd like to know so that you can adequately protect yourself.

For example:

• Last weekend I cut my toe open with a butter knife. That takes some skill. Not your average clumsy girl can do THAT.
• I can simultaneously read/write and edit a paper and SING at the same time. I do it to concentrate. And in case you think that's normal, I can NOT carry on a conversation and read/write and edit at the same time.
• I tend to chew on the skin around my finger nails when I get nervous. I've chewed them until I bled before without even noticing. My thumb is currently healing from such an onslaught. (I think it's from when we watched Cloverfield...)
  
• I clip my cats claws. I don't use a towel, I don't have to have them sedated, I don't use a groomer or a vet. I think declawing cats is cruel. I trim them myself. And if you've ever tried wrestling a reluctant 16 pound ball of nerves with FOUR legs, well then, you can appreciate this skill.
• I can make biscuits from scratch. I know. Impressive. When Chris commented on it, I said, "Meh. Somethings you're just born with."

So, I'm curious. What are your mad skills? (And lurkers? I check my stats, I know you're out there, now would be the time to declare yourself. We're all neurotic here...you're among friends.)

Oh the illogicality of our lives...

I'm sitting in our front room floor writing this out, it's more updating for updating's sake than anything else. Agnes is having the hardest time adjusting to life now that she doesn't get her On-top-of-one-of-us-all-the-time lifestyle anymore and she jumped up in the rocking chair to comfort herself in proud silence when the Husband rousted her down...the conversation went something like this:

The Husband: Get DOWN.
The Wife: Why? You don't sit up there and she's not bothering anyone.
The Husband: I know, but that's the Boy's spot.
The Wife: The Boy doesn't sit up there either.
The Husband: I know.
The Wife: Then why?...
The Husband: I don't know, I just don't want her up there...

Ahhhh. I love the smell of illogical neuroses in the morning...smells like...HOME.

You realize, of course, that I can easily match the Husband neurotic tendency for neurotic tendency so I'm allowed to make fun a bit.

Since my thinking is either in bullet points or long rambling digressions, I thought that I would update you all with bullet points since I can appreciate how busy you all are what with spouses and children and THE OLYMPICS.

Here are some totally random thoughts from Burnstopia:

• The Chinese are total cheaters in gymnastics, if those girls are 16 then I will eat my own foot and I'm a vegetarian.
• Yesterday was my last official "day" at the workplace...RIP funny, sarcastic stories of professional types. Maybe I will resurrect you for a collection of short stories.
• Last night the Boy slept from 9:30-4am straight! I actually got up to check if he was still breathing...he was. He was just tired, I guess.
• Today was the Husband's first day of class, I was a little jealous but mostly just excited for him. He came home less than excited to be back in classes. C'est la vie.
• I've plowed through 2 quarts of strawberries and a huge quantity of grapes. Never underestimate the power of fruit to brighten up your day.
• Agnes tried to lay on the Boy for the first time today. I was nursing him in bed and she stepped over his head to attempt to lay down on top of him. I looked at her and said, "No." And she decided to just cuddle him instead. When people ask us why we aren't co-sleeping, this is what I tell them. Agnes doesn't quite understand the line between cuddling and SUFFOCATION. She means well, she just overestimates his ability to free himself from her loving WALLOW.
• I'm waiting on 2 books from amazon. 1 for a book club that I'm contemplating picking up with and the other one is just for ME. For FUN. AKA: Not to learn ANYTHING AT ALL. I know. I am a REBEL.
• My days are bizarrely unstructured right now...some days we nap, some days we don't, some days we get stuff done and some days we sit and cuddle and read all. day. long. I feel guilty. GUILTY. Terrible. Like some unproductive, uncooperative member of society. I know. Am crazy. Send help. Also, ice cream.
• I am so ready for Fall. Very very done with summer. Send cool weather. Soon.

I'm going to stop now since the list is degenerating to circles of random that are neither sensible nor funny nor interesting. Instead, I'm going to go wrap my son up in a flannel blanket with FLAMES on it!

Birkenstocks make nice people

So I fully recognize that the pregnancy has not brought out my...um, nicer side. I've had some rage issues. Mostly I've contained them to, well, here. Or the Husband. But all in all, I'm not a kinder, gentler wife for being pregnant.

And yet, I wear Birkenstocks. And Birkenstocks can make you a nicer person.

Exhibit A:

I am currently wearing a pair of Birkenstock Milanos in brown. And yes, theoretically, I know that Birkenstocks are not necessarily appropriate professional footwear--I AM 8 MONTHS PREGNANT!!! Also, am a nature-loving hippy. With a love of comfortable shoes.

Last week I ordered a pair of Birkenstock Floridas in black. Just for variety. I received them last night. Well, I received a pair last night, they were NOT what I ordered.

Note: For a rather petite girl, I have some HUGE feet. As in size 9 (wide if I can get them, regular if I can't). They're big and flat like duck feet. The Husband once described them as my most UNattractive feature. I'm inclined to agree with him.

The shoes that I received last night were Narrow. As in those freaky people with skinny feet! Who? Who has skinny feet?

My inclination was to be MAD. After all, I'm 8 months pregnant and all I wanted in my whole life was a pair of comfortable shoes! WAH! So I boxed them up and sent an email to the company from which I buy my very expensive but comfortable shoes.

And I wait. And wait. And wait. And hear nothing. So I called them. They're a company based out of Great Neck, New York and I live in North Carolina. I have no qualms whatsoever about using a Southern accent when necessary and I find it VERY useful when dealing with problematic merchandise returns.

I calmly (and southernly) explain the situation to the lovely woman on the phone. She tells me that I need to talk to this other woman who put the order together. So she transfers me. Here's a sample of the conversation:

Me (Southern version 2.0): Hiiiii. I ordered a pair of shoes in regular but I received narrows--can I return them?

Woman (with a thick Hispanic accent): Ohmygoodness, I apologize, ma'am, I think I made a mistake! I got 2 orders for the Floridas, one in regular and one in narrow and I think I sent you someone else's shooooooes!!!

Me (Southern version 2.0): Oh that's alriiiigh' as long as I can just send 'em back.

Woman (with a thick Hispanic accent): Yes, please, just send them back and I will fix it. I will fix it. I am so sorry!

Me (Southern version 2.0): Oh it's alriiiiigh', I understand. Everybody makes mistakes.

Woman (with a thick Hispanic accent) (also, now crying a little): Thank you. And you are so nice and I am having sort of rough day!

Me (Southern version 2.0): You just need to come south for a bit! It'll fix you right up! And I'll get my husband to put those shoes in the mail, so if you'll just send the regulars, that would be GREAT!

Woman (with a thick Hispanic accent) (also, now crying a little): Yes. I will send. Thank yoooou!

Me (Southern version 2.0): Thank you! You have a good day!

Woman (with a thick Hispanic accent) (also, now crying a little): Yes. You have a good day too.

It just goes to show that wearing Birkenstocks really can make you a nicer person. Also living in the South.

Phlebotomy Drama

Wow. So I totally missed that 100 days mark with the Boy.

Woops.

Apparently, am a horrible thoughtless mother already. But wait! I have an excuse! Life is beating the tar out of me lately--does that count?

Friday was a BIG recruitment day that I was the administrative support for--I sort of suspected that it was going to be BIG deal, but then...well, I had been sick for so long that I was just sort of in survival mode and then when it actually came round I panicked and it sort of kicked me to the curb.

I also found out that I spectacularly failed my glucose test from my last doctors appointment.

(Please excuse the long, rambling, parenthetical aside here--BUT--you should know that the Husband and I are ticking health bombs. He has diabetes on both sides of his family and heart disease and cancer in the mix too. I have high blood pressure, diabetes and cancer in my family as well so we both cheerfully admit that genetically we're screwed and try to do the best we can with what we have. My dear sister had gestational diabetes will all 4 of her kids so it's something I take rather seriously.)

So today I got to go in to the phlebotomist's lab for the lovely 3 hour glucose-fasting test. Here's what you do: no food after midnight (I totally forgot to eat a snack before bed so I hadn't had anything to eat since dinner), you go in, they take your blood, they give you a glucose solution to drink in 5 minutes and then they take your blood again at 1 hour, 2 hours and 3 hours after the solution. Yes! That 4 giant needles piercing my delicate skin, thank you for asking! That's also NO food for the pregnant girl for 12+ hours! After having experienced it, let me just tell you, that's just plain mean.

To say nothing of the fact that I've worried about the potential outcome of this test all weekend long...in addition to all the other ways in which I'm already screwing up my child without really knowing it. Poor kid. He deserves better parents.

I should say that when they made the appointment they were very clear about what would happen, that it would take 3-4 hours and that I was not allowed any food before hand etc etc etc. I'm telling you this so that you're able to fully appreciate the inanity of the story I am about to relate.

So I'm sitting reading my way through yet another Potok novel, and in storms this very large, very blond woman in a very pink shirt. Talking about how she needs to get that glucose thing going because she doesn't have all day and she's not one of those women who sits around watching Jerry Springer all day long and can they MOVE any FASTER?!? Believe me when I tell you she was speaking in all CAPS all the TIME!

So the nurse told her that it was going to take 3-4 hours and she should just make herself comfortable and this very pink woman looked at her and said, "WHAT?!? NO ONE TOLD ME IT WAS GOING TO TAKE 4 HOURS I CAN'T SIT HER FOR 4 HOURS ARE YOU CRAZY?!?" She pitched this huge stink about the test taking that long and how could they expect that of her she has 3 other kids at home and she home schools and she has to send out invitations for her baby shower and and AND!

(nevermind the sarcastic redhead sitting at the other end of the waiting room rolling her eyes at the thought of a mother of 3 having a baby shower--shouldn't she have everything she needs already?)

So the big pink woman decided to stay and do as much of the test as she could before she had to leave, and then she proceeded to unpack this enormous bag of laptop, invitations, scissors, 4-d ultrasound pictures of the poor child in utero (they're naming her Marley--after Bob Marley! She admitted this! In public!!) And then she proceeded to tell the entire waiting room her entire life story about how she got pregnant in college and married the father even though she knew that he wasn't the man for her and then she had twins and got a divorce and then got remarried and had another child and aren't they just the cutest blended family EVER?! and how she's been sicker with this pregnancy than with any other and how she's debating having a tummy tuck with the delivery of this baby because her skin is all stretched out from the twins (nevermind that she also admitted that she's 80 pounds heavier now than with her last pregnancy)!

Poor Potok--I'm pretty sure when he wrote, My Name is Asher Lev he didn't intend it to be read in this sort of environment.

There was another huffy woman full of angst and attitude and ANGRY that the Phlebotomist was not FASTER!! Because the phlebotomist also controls how fast your blood flows out of the needled and into the vial.

The really annoying part was that after a couple of hours of the very large pink woman the nurse came out and informed her that her initial test results were so great that she could skip the last 2 blood draws and go home. So she packed up all of her stuff and left. They REWARDED her for being a pain in the arse.

And that's my tale of woe from Monday morning. I'll keep you abreast of further glucose developments.

Walk Towards the LIGHT

So after losing my voice in it's entirety--the Husband staged an intervention. He called my doctor's office for me (I was on gmail chat at work, y'all--we heart technology) and they diagnosed me with a hefty case of bronchitis (with a fair amount of certainty) and prescribed me some pretty pink antibiotics.

There be light at the end of this here tunnel of illness--and it's bright and cheery and hopeful looking! And we at Burnstopia are heading towards it!

In other news, the Husband is on spring break and he's attempting to program some data to run for analysis in SAS and it's driving him bonkers. Someone send help. ASAP.

This weekend marks the 24 week mark of the pregnancy (belly picture forthcoming) which means that the 3rd trimester is just 4 more weeks away and it happens to coincide with the END of cold and flu season. Ask me how happy I am! Go on! You know you want to! Although, I must admit that as terrifying as Birth is for me, the past 24 weeks with the assorted illnesses have been sufficiently miserable that I don't care how painful labor and delivery is--it will only last 1 day as opposed to 3 straight weeks of being SICK--bring it on.

The Boy actually WOKE me up this morning at 2am kicking me very hard in an endeavor to get me to 1) wake up, 2) go to the bathroom and 3) eat something. I did the first two but opted for secret hidden option number 4) go back to sleep, rather than eating something. I'm also beginning to suspect that he's either mischievous or downright spiteful when it comes to his relationship with his father--he'll kick me hard enough for it to be visible from the outside but as soon as the Husband puts his hand on the belly to feel it, the Boy FLEES to my kidneys.


We watched Big Fish last night and it was a joy to watch. Really lovely. Here's one of my favorite exchanges:

Dad: You are in for a surprise.
Son: Am I?
Dad: Havin' a kid changes everything. There's burping, the midnight feeding, and the changing.
Son: You do any of that?
Dad: No But I hear it's terrible. Then you spend years trying to corrupt and mislead this child, fill his head with nonsense, and still it turns out perfectly fine.

Bullet Points

• Thank you all for the lovely wishes for the New Boy. We're rather excited. Now we get to pin down a name. YAY for US!

• Today is CEI's last day at the Workplace. I am going to miss her terribly, but she gave us joy. And also cake and ice cream, for which the New Boy is very grateful.

• I did the dumbest thing I have ever done in the history of my LIFE. I take 2 allergy meds (yes, both approved by my Physician)--one at NIGHT and one during the DAY. This morning I got up. I poured a glass of water. I reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled down a bottle of allergy meds and took 2 NIGHT TIME PILLS!!! I don't know what I was thinking--it was dark. I was tired. Must be NIGHT TIME!! Anyway, I took 2 PM pills and went trotting back to Bed Sweet Bed where the Husband was still sort of sleeping, woke him up to ask what i should do because Dude is my Medical Advisor when I'm at home. At which point he groggily said I could try to throw them up but I shouldn't take an AM pill on top of the others (which I already KNEW). So I did. I went forth and TRIED to throw up. Something I have never done in my life. And of course nothing happened. So I've spent the entire day sort of half asleep. Also chugging water trying to flush it out of my system... which kind of worked but also kind of didn't.

• You know what's funny? Workplace parties are funny. They start out really crowded with all the people who are really just there for the CAKE and then they gradually dwindle down to the people who actually like each other and are there to gab and laugh and cut up until going back to work. I find myself exasperated by the bull--it was all I could do to keep from looking around and telling people to just take their cake and GO so that the 4 or 5 of us could chat with CEI on her last day.

• Speaking of CAKE. There was also ice cream--extreme Moose tracks. I made sure to dig out the fudge ripple. You know. For the BABY.

• I have had about 3 bajillion liters of water today. As I type this I am floating up river.

• Today is payday and also Friday and I have a lovely weekend in front of me that will involve sleeping and shopping for maternity clothes and also baby stuff and also groceries and maybe some laundry and then dinner at my parents house. I'm told there will be pie so it's bound to be GREAT.

So...what are you all doing this weekend?

Used

So, Whimsy asked me to tell you something truly weird about myself...and I've racked my brain and this is what I have come up with.

I CAN NOT wear used clothing. CAN NOT.

And here is why. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IT HAS BEEN.

I donate clothes to the Goodwill, Salvation Army, what have you, but I cannot even go into one of their stores.

heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies

The Husband has a 3-piece baby-blue plaid suit circa 1970 that he bought in a Goodwill and just seeing it hanging in the closet gives me the heebie-jeebies.

I can't stop thinking about the people who might have worn the clothes. And what if they didn't wear underwear? What if they didn't bath? What if they were sweaty nasty crack whores? What if they were in a gang fight while wearing _________ ?

The Husband has tried to talk me down with the whole "They wash everything that they receive at the donation sites before they put it out to be sold!" argument. But I don't CARE. The fact remains that at some point someone nasty could have worn those pants and I CANNOT WEAR THEM.

heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies

I've been thinking about this recently because, dude, we are with child and children's clothes--they are expensive. And I could potentially save a great deal of money by buying children's clothes used. I just don't know if I can swing it mentally. I mean...the child thing is weird enough, but someone else's kid, someone else's poop etc. But then potentially we're thinking about someone else's house and the things that go on there...what if they weren't clean? What if they just let the kids LAY in the poop? What if they were like Britney Spears? There are people who do this sort of thing!

heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies

The problem is, I don't know which side of my brain is stronger, the side that is grossed out by used clothes or the side that is CHEAP. Stay tuned for this ongoing drama.