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I’m feeling kinda bloggy today, but my spidey sense is telling me no one would notice.
Is anybody else spending today in front of a computer? Some people turn off the computer on holidays, but this is what I enjoy.
I spent most of Saturday working outside. I mowed, trimmed hedges, cut back some trees, and even got out the weedeater for the first time since moving in.
I spent most of Sunday working inside. I took a huge load of recycling stuff to Kroger. I cleaned the kitchen and mopped the floors. I moved around some furniture and reclaimed our front room from where it had been taken over by baby shower spoils.
And today? Today I’ve got my eye on our porch swing and its ceiling fan. And that’s all.
I feel like the king in Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s too early to go to bed, and I need some entertainment.
It’s been a long day.
I’m at home “sick” while Katie’s out at her sister’s house. I don’t exactly feel sick as much as bleh. I had my little day surgery today, and I feel fine but groggy and my stomach hurts a bit. I didn’t think I would be good with much social interaction.
So now I’m staring at the tv, and our 6 channels aren’t exactly cutting it. My only consolation is remembering that I could never find anything on when I had 300 channels anyway.
I can’t eat or drink anything this morning, because of some very minor surgery I have to have at noon.
Katie’s had to go sans food a few times for pregnancy-related stuff, and I never thought it was that big of a deal. It is. I was wrong.
And I was going to stay up late last night and sleep in this morning to combat not being able to eat, but stay up “late” turned in to “going to bed at 10,” and “sleep in” became “get up at 9.”
I’ve noticed this week that my brother’s 22 month old girl sounds an awful lot like the boy from the Shining.
and how it sounds echoing down the stairs and across to where I’m sitting isn’t helping its cause any.
“It’s like herding cats.”
I’ve heard this one enough now, thank you, especially when said to other parents in lieu of “this weather sure is lovely, isn’t it?”
That is all.
For months, Katie and I have discussed where we want to have the baby. She has various blood clotting disorders that complicate things, otherwise we’d both probably opt for a home birth.
I was the most afraid of the disorders. I wanted our doctor in his hospital and a healthy baby and mama. Katie, on the other hand, didn’t see things that way. We could get to a hospital quickly, she reasoned, and if we had to do it in a hospital, she needed water to get through it.
Things were getting more and more complicated. We’d settled on a compromise - we’d do it in a particular hospital that allowed water births, but we had to have the tub there ahead of time. It had to be filled, which would take an hour or so. It had to be heated with a waterbed heater. And we needed a birth plan so we could make sure we got the kind of birth we wanted - essentially as natural as possible. It was a compromise, but it wasn’t really what either of us wanted.
And then we started seeing the midwifes who would deliver the baby at the hospital. And let me tell you, I can’t imagine giving birth at the hospital if you could do it at the birthing center. It has comfortable rooms and big beds for both mother and father. It has privacy and comfort and outdoor patios. Essentially, it feels like the way it “should be.”
And just this morning, Katie and I decided that, assuming all goes well, we will forgo the compromise and deliver in the birthing center. I’m feeling pretty good about it. And I’m tickled at our (abbreviated) conversation:
Katie: And if we go to Lisa Ross, we won’t need to make a real birth plan because basically, they don’t do anything I don’t want.
Me: There’s that, too!
Katie: Yeah, unless we have a complication, which is always a possibility in any childbirth, it should be a very relaxed thing for both of us — with the exception of the fact that I will be in excrutiatingly horrible pain.
A while back a friend came through town, and we threw a party in celebration. It was a pretty subdued event; we didn’t have a keg, and no one got arrested. But as a precaution we did put the cats in a room upstairs with their food, water, and litter boxes to keep them from getting out.
A few days after the get-together, I realized I had never put the litter boxes back where they belong, and as I went upstairs to do that I realized, to my increasing dismay, that the temporary cat room door was now closed and likely had been for some time.
And I was furious. Why on earth had someone closed that door? What purpose did that serve, and did they not understand the consequence? The “consequence,” of course, needed to be cleaned up as soon as possible, and I did not want to do it. And I’m ashamed to say that I pitched a little man-fit about it.
Before I continue, I want to make sure we’re all on the same page; I’m pretty sure I just coined the phrase “man-fit.” When I realized what I would soon be cleaning up, I raised my voice at no one in particular - “Who would leave this door open? What were they thinking? Why?” I huffed and puffed. I sulked and scowled. I made first a loud scene and then a quiet one. In short, I acted like a child in a way only a guy can do, and it wasn’t pretty.
But the thing I wasn’t counting on was the good hearts that the kids have. You see, no one had meant to close the door. They did it innocently and unconsciously, and I doubt anyone even remembered who had done it. As I sulked and scowled, they one after another - Henry first, then Jane and Elliot - volunteered to clean up the mess for me.
They’re good kids. It was a lesson for me, and I was too embarrassed to take any of them up on their offer.
Which I guess was a lesson for them, too.
I just chased down my niece. She was in the file room, playing with an old file cabinet.
She squealed as I said “I’m gonna get you” - there are few things in life as wonderful as a baby’s squeal and laughter.
When I “caught” her - with shouts of “I’ve got you, I’ve got you!” I picked her up, spun her around and patted her back.
Setting her back down, I realized that as I patted her, she was patting me right back.
Ah, the cuteness.
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