Fabulous Miss S.

Recap

It was actually a nice evening here.

After a very long day at work doing things that are too mundane to repeat here, I schlepped myself home on the train and immediately went to work on my house chores, cooking dinner, taking a walk with Marc and Hines, chores, BAH. 

I have never had feet as sore as I have since being pregnant.  Why does pregnancy hurt your feet?  I don't understand that. 

I walked way too fast for a six-month preggo to walk from First and Constitution to Union Station tonight just to catch the early train home and get Hines from daycare.  I made it. My feet did not.  I left them on Louisiana Avenue for one of the transients to hang off their grocery cart.  Really. If you spot them, please give them a rub, they are sore.   

I got to the train station with ten minutes to spare to get to a train on the goddamn far fucking north end so I stopped at ABP to grab a cookie. They had a very yummy looking shortbread cookie with icing on it and I will only be able to eat everything in sight for a few more months so I must take advantage while I can.  I got in line, behind one person.  The cashier didn't know how to ring up a goddamned egg sandwich on a bagel, possibly because this was at 5:00pm and that is a morning sandwich and she has never ever worked the morning shift and she is quite stupid.  She finally asked for help from another staff member who too, was baffled by how to charge someone for this obvious breakfast sandwich in the late afternoon.  When they were finally able to charge $4.99, which, as we all know in this country comes to something like $5.29, the customer, who in his minor defense was foreign, began to argue that it said $4.99 on the board, and $5.29 doesn't make sense and he had exactly $4.99 in cash-in-hand money and ohmyfuckinggod I dropped my cookie on the counter and started off for my train because I had wasted at least three minutes of my life standing slack-jawed watching this transgression. And, the train! Far north end goddammit!

So I did not get my cookie.

I picked up Hines.

Marc came home to find me in the shower and Hines eating cat food.

I made dinner; baked potato and salad.

I did some many thank-you notes and watched Fat March and maybe cried a little at the end when Will was voted off because they should have given him one more chance but really, he needs to deal with the issues in his head that keep him from believing in himself and that isn't going to happen on a reality weight loss show.

But really, it was a nice night. Almost seamless.

Complete.

With lots of baby kicks.

Way up high in my rib cage.  Oh! And painful stretching skin!   

Pictures from last week's ultrasound

This one really makes him look like a gremlin, no?  Alas, a thumb-sucking gremlin.

Progress

If you had walked into my house one month ago, a little unused room upstairs would have looked something like this:

Complete with the ugly-sofa blocking the doorway.

After Marc and I put our blood, sweat and tears into this room, it now looks like this. And, by "blood, sweat and tears" I totally mean that I did ALL OF THE TAPING THEY HARDEST DAMN AND NOT AT ALL FUN PART GODDAMMIT.

So now, we have a "baby's room":

Welcome home little Shlomo, here is an ugly sofa in lieu of gifts, a crib, and general baby supplies.  We're taking the hippie-parenting route.  Are you diggin' it yet?

I did, however, already buy you one toy.  I only bought this toy to get the Super Saving shipping on Amazon.com.  I had to spend twenty-five dollars so I figured I'd spend fourteen of it on you. 

Consider yourself lucky that I did buy you something, rather than, you know, buying myself a new tent to wear, as to accomodate your growth, I now look like this:

As if this isn't scary enough, here it is au naturel:

22 week belly.

I was only kidding about the sofa, although we totally intend to leave it in the middle of your room, we did get you a crib, mainly just for our own pleasure and your, well, containment.  We haven't however put it together yet.  We like it as a hallway decoration. Don't you?

And that is a photo-story of my last three weekends.  Today I cleaned and grocery shopped and kvetched about my electric bill with my neighbor.  It didn't seem so bad anymore when I found out hers was more expensive and she has less people living in her home. Eeek. 

I am hoping to power my home on the energy used when I throw books at Marc's head while he watches football.

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Sick day

I took a sick day today.

Really, what's the point in accumulating sick leave?  It's not like they give out super-hero awards to those who have never taken a sick day.

And! I am pregnant. I very dutifully began this job before the wedding, against all good sense. Then, I returned from my wedding and did not take a day to unpack to sleep or change my name or license at the fucking MVA, and went directly back to work.  And now, it is August and I am 22 weeks pregnant holy god and I needed a day to rest. 

I also felt kinda icky last night. And I did not want to feel kinda icky today at my desk, a whole hour and a half from my bed.  So I slept and did a lot of laundry and wrote some thank-you notes and felt calm the whole damn day.

Now I have to get ready for work tomorrow.

Urgh.

I slept in. I slept in very very late.  Hines slept next to me, under the covers so that when I awoke to the noon news, we just sort of sat there and cuddled until I realized that Marc would be home with my lunch in ten minutes and I was in desperate need of a shower. 

I also felt a twinge of guilt because Hines has no idea that his spot is very soon to be taken by an actual human being, one that will make noise, annoy him, not feed him and cause him some overall displacement. 

I did check my work email today and make a few calls and answer a few emails.  So, I would say today will be a seven hours sick - one hour work day.

I did three loads of laundry of donated maternity clothes!!  I was the lucky recipient of a huge rubber-maid tub of very out of style maternity clothes but I am just about big enough not to give a hoot! The shirts are awesome!  The pants are from the eighties.