Tuesday, August 28, 2007

because It's Tuesday, and that means tomorrow's the weekend!

The world has righted itself.

It's funny how much K. being gone interrupts the rhythm of daily life; after all, he's at work 9-6 when he is home, so why should the lack of the car pulling up in the evening throw off my entire week? I don't know, but it does.

I've been busy spoiling him since he got home, which in our world, means me not yelling at him for forgetting to take out the trash and making blueberry pancakes for breakfast.

Tomorrow, we head to Blooming Grove for three full days of lake walks, swims, and hanging out with my super-cool sis, as well as forty--FORTY--other relatives. Then we board a plane at an absurd hour in the am and head to Charlotte for Jon and Sarah's wedding, boogie the night away, and return to Mississippi on Labor Day, hopefully rejuvenated, rested, and ready to get back into life here. K. doesn't travel in September, so no disruptions loom. (I'm having a baby shower though. September 29th. It's gonna be awesome.)

We had a spontaneous sunset picnic at Enid Lake, about 15 mins from our house, Sunday night with the chicken Danielle carted in from Nashvegas. It was beautiful, if buggy; being a mama in training, I'd brought bug dope.

And due to overwhelming request, a belly shot:

We'll take some pics this weekend. I was modeling the 2 dresses I'm packing (one for the dinner/dance in B.G., one for the wedding) for K., and he rightly observed that I look barely pregnant in one, and unmistakably so in the other.

Have a great week/weekend chickies.

Friday, August 24, 2007

It is still hot

But perhaps because my fingers are now blistered and not throbbing with pain (man, I am going to be such a WHINER during labor), the world seems pink and rosy.

I've got this character who is an architecural paint conservator-- these things develop, I promise; it's not like I sat down to write a novel with a guy who analyzes paint chips-- and he is teaching a seminar to a bunch of future architects, who care naught about paint, but are somewhat interested in old houses.

One of them asks him why old houses feel different, more harmonious, to her than new homes, and he can't come up with an answer. He thinks about low-ceiling Pennsylvania Dutch farmhouses, stately brick Federalist homes, funky Queen Anne cottages with their curliques and preciousness, and it's hard to find a common denominator-- other than age.

Is that it? The only reason old houses are cool is because they're...old? And if anyone loves new houses-- tell me why.

P.S. Shout out to DANIELLE, who is arriving tonight from Nashville with a cooler of grass-fed sirloin, all-natural pork chops, and antibiotic-free chicken, along with her lovely self, her less lovely dog (I will post a picture; she's so funny-looking), and some dvds of Weeds. Gonna be a grand time here in Mississippi.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

a high of 102 today

but I'm going for a walk.

Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

you know

it is hard enough to write a damn novel in the midst of exciting baby news and possible house news and husband on business trip in lovely city/fancy hotel while i swelter in mississippi with a shepherd who runs away and a stepdog with an eye infection without burning my m*-fricking right hand so that writing longhand, the way i do, goes like this: hand under ice, think of sentence, got it, go! PAIN almost done with sentence what was the sentence? ice now! relief...repeat.

since this is the 3rd time i've scalded my hand in 2 weeks...i need to work on ambidexterity.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

bebe and the boys

I did not post yesterday because I wanted to put up a new belly pic, since people, I have started to pop! But the camera's in the other room, and dealing with iphoto (WHY is there not a mac version of Picasa?) seems like a lot of work for a picture of my poochy abdomen. So the bebe's fine, I'm hungry a fair bit, and a neat thing happened-- we've been eating very little meat because I refuse to buy the grocery store stuff filled with antibiotics and growth hormones and the natural stuff is hard to come by in Mississippi,I was all worried that the bebe was getting enough protein. Meanwhile, I also found myself NATURALLY-- naturally, people!-- making eggs for breakfast a few times a week (something I usually don't do because of the pan clean-up) and drinking glasses of milk with my lunches (also out of character). And then I read that voila, eggs and milk have protein! Listen to your body, people-- as long as it's not saying chocolatechocolatechoclate, you might surprise yourself.

The other news is we found homes for the boys. They will not be living together full-time, but a lady in Tunica is taking one (she has lots of land, 2 kids, and a lab) and her parents are taking the other (they also live in the country and have another dog), and the boys will see each other 2-3 weekends a month and spend vacations together, so it's a lot better than going to unrelated homes. Nonetheless, I am very sad-- because I LOVE them, especially when I found out they're not getting any bigger (28 and 21 lbs respectively). So sad that last night I had a nightmare where the woman didn't really live in the country, but in a motel, and tried to kill Kagan when we took the dogs away from her. I woke up convinced we had to find another person, but in the cold light of day, I don't think this woman-- who I've had several lengthy conversations with and who offered to email me pictures-- is lying.

So the boys go to the vet tomorrow to get their tiny testes removed, and on Saturday, they will be picked up by the grandparents.

I'll miss them.

Monday, August 13, 2007

On the upside, these guys don't question my life choices:

The two little uns are Beau and Jack, two hound puppies that arrived in our yard, covered in fleas, ticks, and without collars. We're trying to find them homes, but in the meantime, it's a hectic house.

The downside of being ahead of the curve:

Some magical things have happened since I married, and more recently, became pregnant. The support from people in my life has been mostly overwhelming, but it's also been illuminating: it comes from (for the most part) those older than me, who have been down this road before.

As for my peers? I have more than one friend who stopped talking to me after the pregnancy email went out. They just literally never responded, and I hear through the grapevine that they take the baby in my belly as some sort of criticism on their own life.

"Think about where they are coming from," my mother counseled, and I said "Why? Why do I have to? It's like the lady at McDonald's telling me that she doesn't like my t-shirt; it has nothing to do with her." And so being married and expecting a baby has nothing to do with my friends, both close and not-so-close. I promise each and every one of them that in the moments where making a baby was a possability, I had none of them on my mind.

I'm pretty fond of Bridget Jones and her Smug Marrieds, but in my world, taking a traditional route has caused me to be a social pariah. Now that I'm not the Only.Married.One, having a husband has become a little more acceptable, but the having a baby? No one else is there yet. And somehow the fact that I am makes some of my oldest friends draw away.

I'm still me, just as I was when I fell in love with K., just as I will be after the baby is born. I might not be sleeping in and as obsessive about my kitchen floor, but I can guarantee I'll still like quirky British movies, suck at Scrabble, and be incapable of not consuming any chocolate in the house. So the fact that some of my peers take a choice that is wholely mine personally makes me very sad, and more than a bit resentful.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Baby Wednesday

Today, I am 20 weeks pregnant: half-way through according to the experts.

Today, K. looked at my belly (visible between my unbuttoned pants, which keep closed by a hair elastic loop, and my tanktop) and said: "When are you going to look pregnant?"

Apparently, NEVER.

Today is also the first week my baby calendar does not compare the baby to a piece of produce, so I have no cool comparisons for you. But from toe to head, the bebe should be around 10 inches long-- though it's all doubled up, not stretched out on tippitoes) and weighs around 10.5 ounces.

We head to the doctor August 20th (12 days) for our ultrasound, the first one since the very beginning, and the biggie-- where they check for organ development, deformations, and-- gender.

Anyone want to take bets?

falling off the wagon

After weeks of relative healthy-living bliss, yesterday got lost to chocolate with almonds, Harry Potter, and craving a house.anyhouse.rightnow.

After a late-night cleansing of lots of water, cleaning the floors, and rearranging the furniture...I'm back! And our rented home looks *beautiful*.

Happy Wednesday.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Always fun

I went to a friend's house this morning with all my southern ladies as she was having a book signing (she's an academic author). And while I was there, a lady whom I know only by face grabbed my hand and introduced me to a rather ugly, bulgy-eyed man who's beyond middle-aged but not quite old. The man introduced himself and then promptly informed me that I had gotten facts wrong in one of my interview pieces about a 93-yr-old WW2 veteran. He then asked for my email so he could send me information that would set me straight.

What I wish I'd said: You're an ugly old man with terrible manners. You email me, and I'll email you tips on being a a better HUMAN BEING.

What I did say: Why, I'm sorry. He was a difficult interviewee, being very deaf and 93 YEARS OLD, but here's my email. Excuse me, I'm going to get some coffee.

And now I shall stew about it ALL DAY.