Monthly Archives: July 2010
|July 28, 2010||Posted by Lisa under Uncategorized|
Remember when you used to tell “Your mama” jokes in school? You remember. It was a series of jokes about… your friend’s mama. And how she was fat. And, even if she wasn’t fat, you made the jokes anyway, because making jokes about your friend’s mom’s real or imagined obesity was real.damn.fun. back then. Ok, I am remembering some of them and snickering right now. Maybe they are still a little fun.
Anyway, I remember one in particular. “Your mama so fat she got a “wait” problem. She can’t wait to eat!” Tee hee. Well, its all fun and games until you are the mama who, you know, can’t wait to eat. Like me.
My days are filled with one main activity lately: I eat. Sure, I sleep sometimes, but even then its just something to do between 2nd dinner and first breakfast. Today I had breakfast, second breakfast, snack, lunch, second lunch and snack. Its only 2:47 and I am eagerly plotting my next meal. I haven’t decided what exactly it’ll be but you can bet your ass it’ll involve butter and cream cheese.
Early on in my pregnancy, my doctor advised that I am not eating for 2. I took it to heart and I am, therefore, eating for about 6. What?! I’M HUNGRY. ALL THE TIME.
Even George has been impressed, and he’s quite an eater. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve ordered at a restaraunt in the last few months and gotten comments from him like, “Wow, you’re really going for it, eh?” or “Ok, I see we’re taking that route” or “OK. Well, OK.” He seems to have a crossed reaction between sincere admiration, a tinge of digust, and fear for my future pant size. I can’t say I blame him.
All this to ask you, dear reader, if and when you do meet the Minip, if you could keep the “Your mama” jokes to a minimum. Because hearing, prior to her 8th birthday, at least, that her mama “so fat she make Jabba the Hutt look anorexic” might be confusing. She might blame herself, and we don’t want that. We thank you in advance.
|July 21, 2010||Posted by Lisa under Varmints|
She was the fat one of the litter. She looked like a little football.
Now… she’s a still a little sausage, but less like a football.
She was an only dog for 2 1/2 years. She went to daycare every day for the first year of her life. She was… spoiled. A bit.
Then, we got him.
He’d been hit by a car, roaming the streets for three days, and when he got to us his leg was swollen and his hind right femur was broken and dangling. They had surgery together. Him to repair the leg, her for a torn cruciate ligament. It was a hard couple of months nursing them back to good health.
Odie thought Daisy Mae was perfect from day 1. DMH wasn’t too sure about Odie at first. To be honest, she’s not sure about any of us. But, slowly, he’s grown on her. She adjusted rather nicely to having a bigger, stronger, and more scrappy “little” brother. And now, they frolick. They frolick here and there, near and far, to and fro.
They play and play and play for about 12 minutes.
In the summer heat, it takes about that long for them to get tired.
Then they come a runnin’ for the air conditioning. Its a dog’s best friend.
We’ve been preparing them for their new sister as best we know how, which is by talking to them about how they are getting a new sister and politely requesting they not chew on her or any of her things. I set up the Minip’s rocker the other day to see how they’d react to it. Odie gave it a good sniff and then walked away. DMH was bored with it from the start. We also plan to take them on a few walks with her stroller once we get it (see the About Us page for DMH’s likes/dislikes… stroller isn’t on the right side of that list).
Aside from losing their prime sleeping spots in our bed, I think they’ll adjust fine.
|July 13, 2010||Posted by Lisa under Uncategorized|
I went back and forth on whether to post about this. Its not puppies or sunshine or rainbows. Its more like a big dark cloud that makes me weep at my desk and scares my co-workers. But, I do want to have a record of how this pregnancy is going down – the good and the bad – and this has been a big part of the past couple of weeks. So, deep breath, here we go.
I’m weepy. I’m bitchy. It doesn’t take away from how over-the-moon excited I am about being a mom or incubating this precious little girl inside of me, but it is frustrating that several times in the past couple of weeks I’ve cried uncontrollably because I can’t stop thinking doomsday thoughts about what might happen (George could die in a car accident, George could get hit by a bus, George could sprain his ankle walking to the mailbox, etc. etc.).
I’ve asked around to friends who’ve gone before me to see if this is normal. It appears that, if its not normal, it is at least very common. One friend remembered the wise words of an ultrasound tech who told her that the placenta is just a big bag of hormones and as it gets bigger so do the effects. YAY. I have that to look forward to. Another friend told me that this is very good preparation for menopause. TRIPLE YAY. I have that to look forward to, also!
Its been pretty bad. I talked to my doctor about it this morning and we have a plan and that makes me feel so much better. But, damn. Those Hormones. They are not to be messed with, yo.
|July 6, 2010||Posted by Lisa under Varmints|
Happy Belated 4th of July! Ours was spent not celebrating our independence from each other, but, rather, all piled on the couch in a series of cuddly naps. George took this photo of us on Saturday. The only thing missing is his foot that was crammed somewhere between Odie and me just a couple of minutes before this shot while he slept with us.
This scene was recreated several times over the past 4 days. We rested. We also played in the yard and went on neighborhood walks. We visited with friends at happy hours and cookouts. We spent an hour in the paint section at Home Depot (dogs included, which means barking at an unsuspecting lady who had the nerve to carry a cane was also included) searching for the perfect pink hue to paint the Minip’s bedroom walls. We watched the city fireworks from a VIP perch at a rooftop bar on 6th. We celebrated our last Independence Day as a family of 2 (+ 2 fleabags) and smiled as we imagined next year as a family of three. It was one of those weekends where you find yourself thinking, “Damn… life is good.” Cuz, it is.