Thirteen Weeks

Twelve

Chrismas'd

It's hard to believe that the (3 day) weekend is coming to a close here.  After Colin's incident involving some ice and the highschool athletic field fence, he elected to stay home on Friday.  I had the "new OB" appointment.  For some reason I lounged around in the morning and found myself running late.  In a hurry I anxietypeed and drove the one or so blocks to Myrtle St. Of course the first thing they want you to do when you get there is piss in a cup.  So after a few embarassing minutes in the ladies room, I had to man up and tell the nurse I was a specimen failure.  The OB that day was actually a nurse practitioner who doesn't deliver babies.  She was super nice, super Irish Catholic.  This place has like 7 doctors, and they want you to visit with each one, because you never know who will actually deliver you.  Something about that is sitting weird with me.  But that's another post.  We went through the whole rigamarole legs in the stirrups thing (I wore fancy winter knee socks and you should try this...I'm sure if you have a woman OB she will get a kick out of it)  ...then miss Irish decided since I was thin (thanks lady!) we might as well try our luck with the heartbeat.  She brought out this ipod looking thing with a small mic and started rubbing it around, and within about 15 seconds were grinning stupidly at eachother.  "170 bpm.  That's what I like to hear!" she exclaimed as she smacked my naked leg hard with my file.  And that was that.  I gave this other lady who has a dreadlocked Phish kid son about half my blood and was on my way south to meet RSM at LL Bean.  What a shit show that place was. 

That night I drank rootbeer out of my mugclub mug (which is featured on The Local's webpage!).  It might look like I'm chugging...but that could prove to be humorous when I'm more rotund.  Also, thinking of drinking my NA beer say...in my truck.   It would be hilarious to get pulled over, while pregnant, for drinking at the wheel.  *snicker*  You know what's a decent NA beer?  Clausthaler. It tastes like Heineken.  Which is kind of crappy, but I'm taking what I can get at this point.

The rest of the weekend was spent Christmafying the place up.  The tree is trimmed, the stockings are hung, and even the chickens have lights up around their coop.  We finally got everything out there hooked up to electricity...including a light in their roost and a heater for the water.  Colin moved the coop under the garage for the winter, and it may just stay there.  I look forward to having the yard back without big rectangles of dirt.  So yeah, this Christmas'd house looks pretty quaint come evening. The candles are lit, the lights are glowing, the husband is screaming at the OT football game.  I'll post some pictures soon.

I want chicken curry.  I almost just deleted this whole post. I hate the way used towels smell.

She blinded me with science

The Least I Can Do

This week I feel like this:

But there's this:

And this:

And finally, this:

11 weeks