Coffee, coffee everywhere, not a drop to drink

Coffee is a habit I've had to forego right now and I am looking forward to starting up again, sometime in March! Oh, man, I wanted a cup of coffee so badly today, but I haven't been able to drink it since somewhere around week 6 of this pregnancy. I know better than to even try. I'll admit, it's not a health choice, I'd still be consuming coffee if I could, although obviously not in my typical quantities.

But, at this point, the smell sends me running and actually taking a sip is bad news for my whacked-out pregnant self. We're talking about an instant and violent reaction. It's ugly and just not worth it. It's also very unfair if you ask me.

I find myself glaring at that shiny monster lurking on the kitchen counter. I used to love it - a sleek stainless steel Bunn that can brew a pot in two minutes flat. Now, it's more like a big flashing neon sign reminding me of what I can't have. I'm having fantasies about Tony Soprano coming to my house to "off" my coffee maker. I'm sure he could make it look like an accident, such as an electrical overload.

Until spring, I guess I'll just avoid the damn thing, loathing its very existence. In the meantime, I'll just wait for Tony to show up to, ahem...you know...

The Goalie is fired!

Before the rabbit died, I was visiting with an old high school classmate at the post office several months ago. She was asking me when we were having another kid. Oh, noooo! We're DONE with that! She laughed and keept teasing me about having a second, but I assured her there was NO WAY, it wasn't happening, K was going to be an only child!

The funny thing is, she also works at our local pharmacy. I took my prescription in a few weeks ago for my anti-vomiting medication and she just grinned and laughed wondering what it was for. Being my sarcastic self, I told her "to keep from vomiting uncontrollably". "Ohhhhhh?", she sings, "and whyyyy are you vomiting?". She knew right away. She was working at the pharmacy when I was pregnant with K and had filled the same prescriptions then. She laughed and reminded me how I told her a few months ago that we weren't having any more. "Heh. Yeah...well, the goalie has been fired". Pack your bags, you're outta here! Be careful - there's a free agent out there somewhere...and she sucks at her job!

The Rabbit DIED!

I suppose it's time we confirmed the rumors. It's true...the rabbit died!

We've known for a while, but we're finally far enough along that we're comfortable telling more people now. 15 weeks yesterday...whew, a little over 1/3 of the way there, but I'm afraid it's going to be a long hard pull!

I've been soooo sick. My body doesn't like being pregnant, it totally doesn't agree with me. I'm afraid I'm going to punch the next woman that tells me, "Oh, I never felt better than I did when I was pregnant!", (in that annoying, much too perky, bitch voice). OK, I probably won't really do that, but it has honestly crossed my crazed hormonal mind a time or...three. Instead, I smile and nod, then politely contribute, "Oh? I just barfed a grilled cheese sandwhich out my nose". That usually stuns them to silence.

Anyway, I started in with the dreaded Morning Sickness at about 6 weeks. This was better than my pregnancy with K. I was puking before I even had a clue what was "wrong" with me. My boss actually sent me home from work because they didn't want to catch what I had. No kidding.

Morning Sickness...I'd like to personally visit with the guy (yes, GUY) that came up with this term. I suppose that just sounded...nicer. For the purpose of making things easy, I'll relent and go along with calling it Morning Sickness. I think we should rate it, like the Fujita Scale for tornadoes.

With medication, I'm a strong F2. I can still do a little damage here and there, but overall, it's not so bad if you're cautious. Without medication, though, I'm a powerful F4, a force to be reckoned with! When I start churning, spinning, and turning green, your best bet is to hunker down away from the path of the storm!

I keep holding out a shred of hope it'll get better, but I'm not terribly optimistic. I was still vomiting the day after K was born. You can't even imagine how excruciating that is when you've just had your abdomen sliced from pelvic bone to pelvic bone and it's all being held together with the largest staples the surgical team could locate. Personally, I think they used galvanized fence staples, but my hubby assures me they didn't. (I still don't belive him!)

For now, I'll continue to take those incredibly over-priced little pills and hope tornado season ends soon!

Men or Little Boys?

I wonder some days if I'm married to a grown man or a 12 year old boy. I fish some of the strangest things out of my dear hubby's pockets when I do laundry. Sometimes it's a collection of rocks, other times, it'll be drill bits. This week; notes regarding work projects, 1/2 box of Zantac pills, a phillips driver bit, a lighter (he doesn't smoke), several pocket knives, grease zerks, and various pipe fittings. And I've only done laundry ONCE this week! I never, EVER reach into his pockets, I actually dump them out into a basket. I'm always afraid of what I'll find. On the upside, I *almost* have him cured of putting small creatures in his pockets. After 15 years, it's nice to know I've gained a little ground. Or at least I thought I had...

...but as I sit here writing this, he just walked in the house. With that boyish 12 year old gleam in his eyes he says, "wanna see what I found?". Geez, NOW what? There he stands with a small bull snake in one hand and a tarantula in the other, grinning from ear to ear. OK, the tarantula was in a jar, but still, it's a little creepy to have BOTH in your house at the same time.

Being a country girl and having farm animals, I really only have one rule regarding critters - if it's gonna come in the house, it's gotta have legs! I don't do the snake thing. I scolded him (yeah, like mom), and he took his little snake back outside. Waaaay outside, I hope! The tarantula can stay. I really don't mind them and K will LOVE taking it to preschool for show and tell. They're kind of interesting to keep...as long as they don't escape. At least now, I know how to catch them without having them jump up at you!

Now that I think about it, maybe I should go get the laundry started. If I get to it now, there's a possibility I won't find any snake skins or spider legs in his pockets. It's rubbing off on our daughter, though. Yes, I have to check her pockets, too. I see her walking around the yard with her jeans nearly falling down because she's got so many rocks stuffed in them. Maybe by the time she's 12, my hubby's inner self will have grown up a little, too, but I'm not holding my breath!

Lemon Wedges

Not too long ago, we were sitting in a restaurant one evening playing a word rhyming game while we waited for dinner. It's a fun game for our 3 year old daughter. I say "dog", she says "frog!", I say "mouse", she says "house!". She's always so excited to think of a word that rhymes! So, we play this game for a little while...then she gets bored and starts to fidget, so daddy wants her to come sit over on his side. We make the switch. Dad, also trying to keep her occupied with something, hands her the lemon wedge from his tea glass, and says, "here, this will make your lips pucker". She proudly YELLS, 'f***er!" at the top of her lungs, gratified she found a word to rhyme!

We realize after a quick glance around the restaurant that the other tables near us heard her (apparently very clearly, judging from the looks on their faces). Here we sat, absolutly mortified wishing for one of those cartoon "holes" to open up in the floor! Desperately searching for an out, I grab the lemon wedge from her as I sternly (and loudly) say, "Give that to Aunt Mindy!". Surprisingly enough, they didn't ask us to leave...but we haven't gone back, either!

I suppose we learned something, though. When life hands you lemons...you better run like hell!