One Thing At A Time

A week before Charley arrived, a kind man at Latte Land dispersed some baby wisdom my way. (Pretty much everyone in the eighth month did this, but this fellow -- Bob -- made more sense than many others.) He said, "A baby takes away everything that was important before and gives those things slowly back, one at a time."

Here's what I've received back this week:

1. The ability to run to Walgreen's and buy hydrogen peroxide.

2. A drive through the ATM.

3. A short walk with Trudy.

4. A quick trip to the grocery store where I still forgot butter.

5. The purchase of a bottle of wine. (That's kind of cheating since it's really due to not being pregnant anymore. Same situation with the ankle bones.) Note I haven't actually had any wine to drink, but it's nice knowing it's in the fridge.

6. And the big attempted finale... a pedicure. I didn't really get this back, but I did go by Oak Nails to see what the wait time was, which they said 10-15 minutes. This is a big, fat lie. There were 34 people ahead of me so I left. That's what allowed for #4.

That's it for today. Time for the witching hour.

Comments

White Elephant Gone Wrong

I don't like white elephant (WE) gift exchanges. Yes, they may include laughter and good-natured teasing (I prefer bad-natured teasing), but they include the stress of finding the perfect gift. Plus, I don't believe in re-gifting trash. A box full of old magazines is not a good WE gift. No one wants it. Therefore, you are done with the exchange if you pick this gift, which is what happened to Husband. My viewpoint is not shared with most people. One of those people is my stepmom who in recent years has included WE exchanges at our family Christmas. However, this year I was excited. If you have read my blog, you will know Husband is a saver. (We do not use the word hoarder.) We're also trying to get rid of stuff we no longer need. Husband also has friends that give him funny, ridiculous items that he saves. You can see how all this would add up to somehow already having the perfect WE gift. So there was hope. I'd already identified it - the velvet picture of a

Holiday Homestretch

Two weeks off, people. After today, it will be sixteen lovely days until I return to the world of meetings, projects and deadlines. Sixteen days. Christmas break is such a lovely perk to working in higher education. Those in the corporate world, feel free to brag about bonuses, profit sharing and the like. On your own blog, of course. There are no big plans, other the the normal holiday family visits, which suits me just fine. Initially, I thought a few days would be spent painting the living room. It's embarrassing how long there have been drywall patches showing, but whatever. We have a baby. Nothing gets done. I've accepted it. However, Husband surprised me by having a painter take care of it last week. Hallelujah! Two days of freedom regained. Now the home improvement snowball has started. New mantle for the fireplace. New vanity for the bathroom. Paint the hallway. Tile the backsplash. We'll be lucky if we get one done before spring. We're also contemplatin

Get This Party Started

So what do you do when you're reclining in a hospital bed, Olympic beach volleyball on the TV and watching petocin slowly drip through an IV into your arm? You blog. As of 3:32pm, all is manageable. Ask me in an hour or two and the tune will most likely be different. Petocin scares the crap out me, but as long as it gets the baby out of me, I'm trying to not freak out. I woke up this morning and greeted the day as a normal Monday. After walking Trudy a few miles and spending 40 minutes on the elliptical, it dawned on me I felt a little crampy, for lack of a better term. And without getting too graphic, I started to wonder if my water had broken. (It was nothing like it's portrayed on television.) So I called a handful of friends and my sister to get some feedback. All signs pointed to yes, so I called my doctor's office which said just go to the hospital. I took Trudy for a second walk while waiting for Husband to get home and try not to overreact. At the hospi

3athletejen

Search This Blog