ProudMary

Couple Little Things

Well, there it is.  The last day of November and the deed has been done.  When I signed on, I had no idea how much work and perseverance it would take to stay on this wagon.  I'm not sure it was worth it, but hey, I got a custom crib set out of it, right?  That pretty much rocks.

I realize it's in terribly bad taste because he's dead and it certainly wasn't from natural causes, but doesn't he look so much cooler, nonchalant and tanly, chicly bald in the after part (which is weirdly first) of this photo?  I realize he's deathly ill and all, but come on, who would you rather hang out with?  Dorky, doubtful seventies guy, or Right Said Fred over there? You don't have to say it, I know I'm an ass.

Walking through dried, dead leaves in the forest makes me crave Rice Krispies, even though I find them unsatisfyingly light as a breakfast.  Just so you know.

My first doctor's appointment is on Monday, and I'm really looking forward to it.  I've decided to take the Cap'n and Poopies along for the journey in the hopes that we will hear a heartbeat or even see the critter, though since they'll also likely be taking a look under the hood I'm not sure how that will work out.  I definitely don't want Poopies to see his Mama all propped up in stirrups while a strange person does things under there (that one'd go straight to the repressed unconscious, I think), but then again I'm not sure if the staff will have the patience to be fetching family members at what I deem as the appropriate moment.  Just one of those stupid things I'll hash and rehash thousands of times between then and now only to find that it was no big deal.  Like taking out the trash or putting away the leftovers.  These things run on repeat in my head.  I wish I knew why.  Maybe I saw my Mom receive a pelvic exam when I was two or something.

Ok, NOW It's Over

I know about a month ago I was flailing my hands about in terror about the sky that is our business falling.  Oh yes, I was aching and complaining about there not being enough acorns to last the long, cold winter and blaming it all on my sweet Cap'n, and his strong affinity for trees.  And, if you were paying attention (it's ok, I barely do), you might have noticed that it never did.  I will never complain about the hunters again.  December's mortgages are (barely) paid and I couldn't be happier.  We are some lucky sombitches.

But now...NOW, we are dead.  We are so dead we don't have a single reservation for two weeks.  And I honestly couldn't be happier about it.  Because after those two weeks all hell will break loose and we won't have another moment to spare until the spring thaw.  So, I'm happy that my nausea will likely be gone by then, and I'll have the stamina once again to smile pretty at the people, answer their repetitive questions and be able to do my part in keeping the wheel rolling swiftly along.

So, we'll spend the next couple of weeks making improvements, resting, laundering, and probably going out to eat too often.*  Oh yeah, that's the other place all our money goes.  Don't think I mentioned that.

* Like at Burger King.  That's right.  I said it.  Burger King.  We stopped by last week because they have veggie burgers and ICEEs, and there is just something about a cherry ICEE that absolutely obliterates my nausea on contact.  I swear I'm asking Santa for one for Christmas.  And that veggie burger?  POSITIVELY ORGASMIC.   I'm about ready to travel the 30 miles back there for another right now.

I Got Nothing

So, I'm guessing that every participant of NoBloPoMo will have a post that resembles this one to some extent.

So, um.  How's it going?  Good...good.  Me?  Oh fine, feeling better today thanks to a big breakfast I think, basically took the day off, hung out with Poopies.  He's a real trip.  I took a nap.  Yup.  Hmmm.

Oh!  Got an email from an old friend who's wife is pregnant too, just about the same timing as me.  And, their son was born 2 years TO THE DAY from when Poopies was.  So, that's sort of another coincidence, you know?  Crazee.

Yup.  Slow news day.  yeah...

The Halls, They Are Decked

Today we ventured into town for provisions and ended up buying ourselves a substantial piece of the Christmas pie.  A tree, live garland, lights for said tree and more for outside, ornaments and all the necessary accessories.  We've never really done this before, and wouldn't have were it not the first Christmas that Poopies is really able to participate, and therefore a lot more fun.  Plus, before we were cool city people, and eschewed the over-commercialization of a once-pagan-then-turned-Christian holiday that promoted the destruction of entire forests of trees in their youthful prime.  Don't ask me why none of this was discussed this time around, having kids really does change everything.  We couldn't have been happier to plunk down our cash for that severed tree.

And so, while decorating the tree, I was struck with the pangs of tradition not yet made.  Like everyone who celebrates, my family had a big box of ornaments---a collection of weird school projects, gifts from family, priceless heirlooms from relatives long past---the nice thing was that we saw these same objects every year, and I suppose that is the root of tradition.  Our tree is mostly ornaments that were bought...today.  I'm grateful that there are a few that my mother has sent over the years since I left home, which I realize in retrospect was excellent foresight on her part.  Mothers understand this sort of thing.  And I know that we will collect our own big box of oddities, and hold them up each year and say "Remember when...?" and eventually I'll look back and feel warm that we've created our own tradition that our kids will take for granted until they leave home and put up their own oddly non-sentimental conifer.

Couch Adhesive Remover

Never fear, my three-day morning-sickness reprieve ended this morning.  I feel so much better!  I've felt like hurling all day!  Just what I wanted.  Right.

So, I spent most of the day uselessly glued to the couch.  Until the Cap'n talked me into "taking a drive," which is usually code for spending the next four hours in the car.  Not tops on my "things to do when I'm nauseous" list, frankly, but he talked me into it, and I dragged my ass, eyes rolling and breath huffing to the car. 

We actually had a nice time.  The fresh air felt good, we went to an awesome playground that Poopies loves (it's so cool to see him running around having a blast being a little boy), we got some groceries, and splurged on dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant.  Then we returned home to learn that our only customers tonight had lost their key and were waiting for our return.  Ooops!  We leave here so rarely, but it always seems to cause some ugly ripple in our lives that it's no wonder we put it off.

Nearly There

Only a few days left now, we're going to make it after all!  Can you imagine the great silence that will be December 1?  I'd like to think that I'll keep this up, if not every day then every other.  I've enjoyed the past month; it's been great to catalog a whole month's thoughts and happenings, to see everyone else toil under the same self-inflicted burden, and to see the great range of creativity in crafting the satisfactory minimal post.

In other news, I've been feeling great.  The past few days I've had energy, a normal appetite, and no nausea whatsoever.  All of a sudden.  Which is damn worrying.  I'm only 9 weeks, and I'd thought the symptoms, which are supposed to be peaking now, to continue at least another few more.  If I'd been able to see a doctor, to see or hear a heartbeat, to positively ID a little person in there, I'd feel a lot better.  It makes me realize what great care I had before.  I think by now I'd had two ultrasounds, which sounds excessive, but still.  It was good to know.  Anyhow, I'll finally see the doctor the Monday after next, and that will hopefully put my worries at ease.  Nearly there.

Cheating

Cheater cheater pumpkin (pie) eater.  Post a post of nothing either.

I am eating a lot of pie.  That's the truth.

Happy Day To You

Just a quick note to say happy thanksgiving to you, and that I will be entirely too busy welcoming a new crop of guests (we're full tonight and tomorrow...hurrah!) and cooking a big silly meal, complete with the last Tofurkey in the Hudson Valley, just for us three.  It actually feels really nice to be doing something extravagant for just our little group.  Have a good one!

House Arrest

Lately I've been in a bit of a rut that's called:  Only Leaving The House Approximately Once A Week.  Ok, I might jaunt out to the laundry room occasionally or even take the dogs for their walk every few times, but I'd say that since this morning sickness kicked in a few weeks ago I've been sequestered to this very tiny house with this very tiny boy every day, and I'm starting to feel a bit flat about that.

On the other hand, how "appetizing" is it to go out and clean rooms when you feel pukey and wretched?  Wouldn't you rather lounge around the house and just make sure the kid doesn't put his eyes out on the edges of the coffee table?  When your sweet husband can do all the outside work?  Of course you would.  You might even indulge in a little daytime TV if there was a good movie on.  You might eat pretty nearly constantly to keep the nasty feelings away.  And then you might decide to vacuum but then get terribly winded and have to sit down holding your aching back.  Totally pathetic is the picture I'm trying to paint here, people.

Today I was forced by my bulb-planting-freak of a husband to get out and do some cleaning for some arrivals tomorrow, and it really ended up being the very best thing for me.  Got my mind off the nausea and although I didn't feel great, I felt about as bad as I would have on the couch, only not nearly as pathetic.  And that makes a big difference.

So, for the health of mind, body and baby, I plan to make more of an effort, get up, get moving, get things done.  Queasy stomachs shall not have the power to stop me.  Ha.  We'll see.

Just Another Hunting Trip

So, most of the hunters have cleared out, there were no murdered animals hanging from our trees, and for the most part they really were a nice, very low-maintenance bunch.  On the whole they weren't particularly talented with their toilet aim, so that was unfortunate, but might extrapolate to explain the lack of dead forest creatures thing, which overall I'd say was fortuitous.

One little side-story:  this past weekend, I got a call from one of the hunter's wives.  She asked that I get a note to her husband asking him to return the call.  So, not knowing if he was here or not, I wrote up a little note with the message, and trotted over to his cottage to do her bidding.  I saw his car and so decided to knock.  I wish I'd just left the damned note.  A woman in just a long shirt opened the steamy door to reveal the mulleted "husband," who was unfortunately shirtless (yick).  I told him the message, he seemed uncomfortable, and said "Ok, but she (pointing to the woman) isn't here, right?  I mean, what happens in the mountains stays in the mountains, right? (uncomfortable chuckle)"

Although I am no fan of adultery, and my proximity to the whole thing did creep me out, I honestly couldn't care less what people do in the rooms unless there's permanent damage.  In fact, the extremely obvious situation frankly hadn't even dawned on me, that's how little I care.  And I certainly recognize that it's not my place to be blowing anyone's cover.  So, I said "sure!  I didn't see anything!" and walked ever so quickly away feeling like I needed a shower.  Of course I immediately gushed the story to the Cap'n, who said that he'd seen a redhead over there the day before, a completely different, yet also fairly unattractive, portly woman.  I guess that's country hoars for you.  What a pig.  Shame it's not mulleted pig season.  His wife might like to purchase a license for that sport.