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Archive for August, 2008

M. got called up last night (really it was early Thursday) by the National Guard.  They’re preparing for Gustav early apparently.  I’ve been in Louisiana for over 30 years; unless it’s Category 3 or above, I don’t worry one bit.  Rita made us a bit more skittish, but I still don’t go crazy getting ready.  I always stay stocked up on most things, and the worst that can happen is that I fill a bathtub with water.  But, Tina and I are going to stock up for Brian today.  Ugghhh.  I’m not looking forward to it.  People act crazy around here during this crap (too many Yankees!).  So I’ll have to catch ya’ll tonight!

 

*UPDATE*  If you’ve been here and left a comment in the last few days, I apologize.  I’ve been a bad blogger, and I’m taking tonight and tomorrow to catch up.  Rest assured if you’ve left me a comment, you will get a comment.  And if you make a habit of it (at least a few times), you’ll make the blog roll!  🙂  I think I’m going to try to wear out this dial-up connection until Gustav hits!  Which now will apparently be late Monday/early Tuesday.  I never trust the weather reports until it hits the Gulf.  There are too many factors until then, but they are saying that Louisiana is going to be the bullseye and it will be a Category 3.  I guess M. will get a proper taste of a La. hurricane.  At Cat 3, we shouldn’t sustain too much damage which makes it a good one to cut his teeth on (I think it’s mainly going to be a test to see how the emergency services react…and that’s why they’re starting so early), but there’s always a chance.  Around town most gas stations are out of fuel.  Nearly everyone in Walmart was freaking out and buying reams of water and supplies.  I bought an extra bag of beans and put an extra bottle of water in the freezer.  lol  Can you tell my feathers don’t ruffle easily?  Tina and I are planning to take those pics of the bustier tomorrow.  I’m a little nervous because I don’t trust the weather anymore (thanks global warming), but I’m not too worried.

 

Oh…and did I mention yet another baby incident.  This one was mostly on me though.  There were of course the requisite cute Walmart babies including the cutest mini-Buckwheat imitator I’ve ever seen!  Man, where is the camera when you need it?  Then Tina sent me down the tobacco aisle for Brian’s Marlboro’s (yuck), and I got stuck waiting behind a young mother with her 2 month old for almost 15 minutes (forever in baby time) while they waited for a price check.  After smiling aloofly (is that a word?) for most of that time as they cooed and fussed over him, I gave up and asked how old he was (I already knew the answer…I know babies).  After the mother answered, the cashier broke in and said, “Do they have more back there?”  I swear that for half a second my adled brain thought, “They sell babies at Walmart.  How much?  I have my credit card if it’s not over…”  Yep, that’s how baby brained I am now days.

 

 

**************UPDATE #2**************

 

M. got to New Orleans at 1:30am this morning.  That’s definitely not helping my stress level.  We’re all prepared here on the hill (well…actually I’m at work right now).  Brian is heading out this morning to pick up a generator and has offered for us to come and stay here.  So, we have some place to go if the heat and humidity post-Gustav gets to be too much for Mom (she’s the only one we really worry about…other than a tree coming down on our heads, and there ain’t much you can do about that!).  The projected path from NOAA sends Gustav right over top of our houses.  Yeah…that’s comforting.  Still, it will lose strength before it gets to us (land will slow it down).  We’re well prepared with plenty of supplies.  Heck, I’ll probably even post tomorrow (I finished that Palahniuk book), and I have more than one stressful thing going on right now.  Tomorrow and Tuesday are going to be very long days of waiting.

 

Thanks for all the well wishes!  I’ll be in touch with ya’ll before Gustav hits.  When I’m stressed, I clean, and unfortunately, I already have cleaned my house and Brian’s to within an inch of their lives!  So I really have nothing to do but a little laundry and to wait for the next few days.  Bad for my nerves.  Good for your blogs!  lol  Laters!

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My Grandfather (left) in Paris as a doughboy during WWI.

My Grandfather (left) in Paris as a doughboy during WWI.

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I swear that the universe is just pushing my buttons these days.  In case you haven’t read the comments under the last Wordless Wednesday, my BFF GingerMagnolia’s sister is expecting after a very few months of trying (like 2 or 3…lucky duck!).  I am genuinely happy for her.  I swear!  But, at the same time, it feels like the universe is poking me with a stick while I twist on life’s rotisserie.  The feeling was increasingly poignant while I waited for M. Saturday.  Across the street from the armory there were a group of women who were obviously preparing for a baby shower.  Well, unless rattle and pacifier balloons have become the “it” décor for drunken whore-fests?  Nah, I didn’t think so.  All I could do was pray that M. would be done and we could leave before they started.  It was incident number nine of the past month (not counting today’s Dr. visit when the nurses spent a solid 10 minutes playing with a 2 yr old boy in front of Mom who watched in wonder with a soft smile on her face…gut wrenching…though not as much as Mom’s x-ray tech saying, “You’re not in any danger of being pregnant”…I’m sure that was supposed to be a question and not an accusation) in which pregnancy has been thrown my face in one form or another by the blasted universe, and I’m not talking “passing cute babies in Walmart” in your face.  Nope, the universe has been serving up extra special crap for me.

 

I’m not obsessed with baby making…much.  If you click that “the ultimate quest” category at the bottom, you’ll see that of my nearly 100 posts very few have to do with ttc (trying to concieve).  I’ve visited some blogs where that is nearly the only thing that’s talked about, and it makes me wonder if I haven’t focused enough…if maybe that’s why. 

 

I’ve always said, “When it’s time, it will happen.”  But more and more I’m ready for it to happen (not wanting or wishing or hoping, but I feel genuinely ready…despite our recent marital difficulties…nothing like a near end to make the two of you see what you really want).  For more than a month, I’ve had this niggling little feeling that something big is coming.  It’s not very strong, but it seems to be coming through clearer and clearer.  The last time I had this feeling it went on for months.  I thought it had to do with my book, but then I met M.  That feeling was almost overwhelming by then.  Now, it’s creeping back in. 

 

If that isn’t enough, I was walking Pascal the other day when it suddenly hit me that I’m 36.  36!!  I almost lost it for a second and then I got one of those divinely clear moments when I remembered that for many years when the subject of kids would come up a little voice would burst in on my thoughts saying, “36, 37” while a vision of a dark haired girl about 2 and an androgynous blond beauty would pop up (the baby boys in our family are very pretty and are often mistaken for girls).  Hope strikes again.

 

Am I ready?  I’ve built a bedroom for a baby bundle.  I’ve feng shui’d the master bedroom for a crucial conception (after our recent marital troubles, I moved a baby dress into our money zone…here’s hoping that I’ll have to spend lots and lots of money on baby clothes!).  I’ve changed our diet a dozen times.  We’ve taken tons of supplements and teas.  I’ve bought unprescribed fertility medications from Mexico.  I’ve stood on my head (ok, not really…but my ass was so high in the air an errant fart could have had a hot air balloon floating over the bed).  I’ve bought M. all new underoos.  I’ve had to be physically restrained to prevent me from buying entire layettes, and I won’t promise that I won’t be buying a crib soon (that’s for my “build it and they will come” theory…color selection alone has prevented me from picking up strollers).  M. and I have linked hands in prayer nightly before sleeping.  We’ve screwed every other day for months (that did lead to a new medical condition…over use is not a good thing for the ‘tang).  We’ve not had sex for days pre-O for even more months.  We’ve timed and tested and poked and prodded to no end.  If the universe needs any more proof of our devotion, well, then the universe is just a beyotch!

 

Uncle George’s death has made me feel very guilty about ttc, guilty about my semi-hidden obsession (here and at home it’s all out…but most people just see me smile and repeat that we’re working on it).  Some part of me just kept remembering the children from India who speak of being this person or that’s relative or neighbor before they were born.  More than once when I saw him, I thought of asking him to help when he got to the other side.  When I talked about all the ttc, he just laughed it off and said not to worry about it that it would come.  I remember him telling me something like that a long, long time ago.  He told me that there was somebody for everyone and I’d find somebody.  At the time I was over 500lbs. and had long since given up on having a life of my own much less a husband or children.  He was right.  As unlikely a match as M. and I are, we make it work more often than not.  We may not always be easy, but we are usually…gratifying, fulfilling.  That’s more than some people will ever get, and I know that all too well.  I feel guilty for asking for more miracles. 

 

It doesn’t look like it will happen this month at any rate.  Something has gone completely kerflumpt with my female bits.  My once clockwork ovulation has gone off the rails, and you can bet there’s guilt there too (I chose to screw it up with the Clomid after all).  I was getting slowly darkening OPK sticks as usual then suddenly nada.  One day a medium colored line and the next it was back to a pale line.  Just in case, M. and I did the deed.  But, it was 4-5 days before ovulation was supposed to occur.  Over ten days later, I’m getting nothing but pale lines.  Grrrr!!!  Naturally, I had only a few test strips and I hadn’t picked up any more because I should have had enough to “get by” this month.  UNIVERSE!!!!!  GO TO YOUR ROOM!!!!!  See…I can totally parent.

 

 

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I’ve been borderline depressed these past few days, but I’ll get to that tomorrow (it’s going to be a long ttc post). 

 

This weekend was hectic.  M. had drill on Saturday, and since we were having some tire problems (well…if troubled tires means completely bald), I went too.  There are few things that suck more than sitting in a car or window shopping for eleven hours.  😦  I did splurge just one little bit, though.  I bought the cutest gingham bustier in which Tina is dying to do a pin-up pic.  I guess ya’ll will have to wait until then to get a peek.  😉

 

Then Sunday, Tina put me to work.  Working with Brian (Tina’s paraplegic boss…she’s a care worker) is not hard work, but it’s an old house and it needs a good deep down scrubbing to restore its original luster.  I could literally feel my OCD kicking in!  I think Tina is already glad she “hired” me.  The other girl (aka the ex-tweaker) has had an interview and drug test at Walmart, and it looks like she may quit Tina altogether.  Tina then wants me to do all the weekends, and yesterday she decided she wanted me to clean their house once a week (the boys have been rambling/working a lot…not that they clean when they are there…and after all these years of cleaning that house to within an inch of its life only to have them destroy it in 2 hours, I had quit trying to keep up with the mess even for Mom’s sake…not that I don’t pitch in…I just slap on my OCD blinder goggles and try to avoid it).  She wants to come home to a semi-clean house and between the two jobs it’s close to an extra $800 a month for me.  I be rollin’ large!  Yo!  I’ve already been looking for some bling.  (I so miss buying jewelry…I’m a jewelry ho, fo sho…marriage has put a serious cramp in my bling sprees…when I was single, I’d just go without heat for a month or two and save up for a special something…M. likes heat better than my 70% off jewelry finds…yeah, I don’t understand him either…heat is so last year…rocks are forever)

 

Today, M. started school and I started errands and crap.  So since last Friday I haven’t had a chance to scratch my own hind-end in peace!  And tomorrow doesn’t look any better as Mom has separate lab and doctor appointments at 8am and 2pm (could they have gotten it any farther apart?).  I’m sure Mom’s going to love sitting in the car bored for hours in the heat.  It’s a good thing I got her some Harlequins today.  I’ve also picked up a few books on infertility (though I don’t expect to learn anything new…I’m just covering my bases), a couple of humorous books, and one of that Chuck Palahniuk (is that how you spell it?…that guy ya’ll keep yakking about, anyhoo…I want to see what all the fuss is about).  We’ll see how many of them I get to actually read.  I’m betting I’d have been better off with the Uncle John’s Triumphant 20th Anniversary Bathroom Reader. 

 

 

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Frost free?  I think not.

Frost free? I think not.

Yep, that’s what happens when you don’t defrost your freezer for a year.  I took that picture thinking I’d be ahead come next Wordless Wednesday.  But then I stabbed my refrigerator to death.  You heard me.  To death! 

  

 

 

 

 

 The Freon is on my hands, literally.  I did the stupidest thing in the world.  It’s something I had watched other people do many times knowing full well they shouldn’t.  Then I went and did it myself.  I took a knife and started chipping away at the ice (the entire inside looked like a solid ice cube).  I was almost done when I missed.  Yep.  I stabbed the Freon tubing spewing it into my face and forcing a quick evacuation of the house.  What I really need is a giant piece of cardboard with “Here’s your sign” written on it in marker to hang around my neck!

 

After carrying the contents of the refrigerator to Mom’s, I sat down and turned to Mom and said, “At least, it can’t get any worse.”  It no sooner came out of my mouth than Tina popped around the doorway and hit me square in the face with a bag of frozen candy.  As I left Mom’s I ran into Dave.  I told him, “I stabbed my refrigerator.”  Dave said, “Yeah, I heard.”  I said, “I’m an idiot.”  Dave smirked, “Yeah, I heard.”  Can you feel the love?

 

I wish I could say it’s the worst day I’ve ever had, but alas, it isn’t.  One day when I was about 15, I missed the school bus.  Mom and I jumped in the car and raced after it, but we got less than a mile down the road before the car caught fire.  We walked back to wake Dad up to go and get the car when I discovered Will stuck upside down between the bed’s headboard and the wall (explains a lot, huh).  Mom and Dad got back with the car just in time for me to trip and fall onto Will’s baby walker and crush it to bits.  Then we sat down on the porch swing and started laughing about this going down as our worst day ever.  The porch swing promptly broke throwing me spread-eagled onto the floor. 

 

So, yesterday wasn’t so bad.  What was your worst day ever?  🙂

 

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Target acquired

Target acquired

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Die Diet Die

 

About 3 days into this new diet, I looked at M. and told him, “I may have to eat that newspaper.”  He looked at me rather suspiciously but with a glint of hope in his eyes, and said, “I didn’t say anything because I thought you were so into it.” 

 

Despite eating mountains of eggs, cheese, and veggies for lunch, M. would be dying of starvation within 2 hours.  Considering that I can’t eat mountains of anything, I was pretty much feeling the same way.  Of course, in my warped mind, this means it was working because our bodies could quickly burn up the fuel.  Right?  Makes sense, right?  So, I still have faith in it, but it’s the timing that’s killing me. 

 

I didn’t realize how often I ate in a day.  Since I can’t hold much food at any one time, I graze like a lazy cow.  Pick a little here and a little there.  I guess I’ll never be back to my 2 meals a day.  I believe in the principles of the diet, but I had to modify the practice.  Since our admissions, M. has gone back to his usual diet sans the processed meat and with more veggies.  And I am still on the diet, but I’m waiting until about 30 minutes after I’m ravenously hungry to eat again.  That way I’m eating more veggies, in smaller amounts, and I’m eating more often.  I think for the most part I’m just going to have to stay pretty much on the Atkins side and then when I need that carb fix I’ll spend a day on the Somersized carb side (veggies, good carbs, and no fat or meat/cheese)

 

Ok, so it’s not just the timing.  I also didn’t realize how much eating lots of vegetables would affect me.  If I get the “vapors”, I tend to puke.  Because most of my stomach is floating somewhere at the bottom of my belly and a fair section of my intestines are doing the same, gas seems to have a hard time finding its way out.  It just rolls around like the worst gas a “normie” may ever experience.  Thanks to the abundance of vegetables and fruit on this diet, I spent much of my time trying to lie flat and rubbing my tummy like you would a colicky baby.  Certain veggies bother me less, like carrots and cucumbers, and I’m just going to go with eating half a small cucumber with a little sour cream-based dip for lunch.  Give me an hour and I can probably get the whole thing down.

 

Oh well, at least I’m exercising!  A couple of weeks ago, I started taking Pascal for longer walks and doing a Ministry of Silly Walks thing while I was at it.  Between goose-stepping, exaggerated marching (knees almost up to my chest like an abdominal workout), walking backwards, and shadow boxing while Pas poops, I’m getting pretty toned under all this flab.  I’ve got a lot more energy…which sucks when you’ve got nothing to do.

 

The dreaded class dies this week!  Ha!  I’m positively drooling over the survey that we get at the end of each class.  My critique will be fair but tough.  I’ll try not to call the professor a doody head.  I swear!

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