Imagine that you are fresh faced young thing who is just married and setting up a home with your husband. Oh, alright maybe you’re a haggard 36 year old who is just married and setting up a home with your husband. And said home is his parents 5500 square feet home that is jammed to the gills with SHIT. Sure, some of it is pretty, and I’m sure has meaning to someone, and may even be valuable, but when it covers every available space, counter, table it is shit. And if that isn’t shit, the clothes from 1975, the wrapping paper from Christmas 1983 and the Tupperware from the early 1990s certainly are. You spend two freaking years pushing to get the house clean, which involved an estate sale, three 22-yard dumpsters (yes, three), a nervous breakdown or two and an exhausted husband. Then imagine, that just when you thought you had your house together, ready to have your babies and focus only on them you find out that for many reasons some good, some completely insane you had to move out of the house and your mother-in-law was going to move back in. You breathe, you curse your husband, fate, the world, your mother-in-law and the dog, but you get your shit together and do what needs to be done. Imagine you go to the townhouse, your mother-in-law has been living, which is owned by your husband and now needs to be put on the market. As you descend into the basement and start cleaning shit up you have an odd sense of deja-vu. But wait! Just because you have deja-vu doesn’t mean it isn’t happening again, people: She went dumpster diving and got the shit out! Dude, she went into the dumpster and took a Nordic Track Ski machine out and brought it into her basement. Don’t fucking tell me she isn’t completely insane. WWYD? Me? I would drink. A lot. And I did.


Has it seriously been two months since I posted. Wow! Time sure flies when you don’t have any! Let’s see what has been taking up all my time?

Clearly I’m doing my own version of NaBloPoMo. I guess I got confused with National NO Blog Posting Month. Anyway, still here, still pregnant but oh my god, soooo exhausted. While the second trimester has definitely been better than the first trimester in terms of exhaustion, I’ve got so much going on that I feel more tired than ever. Lets see, what do I need to catch you up on.

Pregnancy: I’m 17 weeks. Can’t believe it. I had an amnio this past Tuesday. No, nothing was wrong other than the fact that I’m an old hag. I did some research on the screening tests and it seemed to me that they were unreliable. I’m one of those people who can handle most things if I’m prepared, but do not do at all well with long term, ongoing uncertainty. My OB said, ‘Well, if you think you’re going to want the amnio anyway, why don’t you just go ahead and do just the amnio. It’s the most reliable.’ So thats what we decided to do. However, for the last 3 weeks I’ve been a bit of a basket case because the average person seems to think that getting an amnio always results in harm to the baby and that the fact that you are even contemplating getting one makes you a baby murdering monster. I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve heard ‘Well, it’s not like you’d actually do something with that information so why bother getting one’. Umm, actually if something was horribly wrong and the baby wouldn’t survive after birth I think I most certainly would do something. It would kill me emotionally and I’d think long and hard about it, but it would certainly be an option. And if there wasn’t something seriously wrong, it would help us prepare. I think the next time I will not be telling anyone that I’m getting one if I choose to do so.

Anyway, given that I am a sheep and have no ability to think independently, all these reactions from people took a toll and I really began to second guess myself. By which time it was way too late to do the screening tests, so I was kind of stuck with the Amnio. Ha ha, no pun intended. Anyway, after much anxiety and obsessive searching of the internet I came to this moment of absolute clarity. As far as I was concerned the stated risks seemed to be much higher than the actual risks – the latest figures are much lower than the 1:200 quoted by doctors. And really, one just has to know oneself. If you are one of those people that will have a baby no matter what – great. I am not one of those people – and I’m not going to apologize for that.

The procedure hurt less than getting blood drawn. I did not get a local anaesthetic and hardly felt the prick. I felt some pressure and that was pretty much it. I lay on my couch and watched TV for the entire afternoon. Worked from home the next day and so far have felt fine. We’re got our F.I.S.H. results – so far so good, though we need to wait for the final results and… it’s a boy!

House: In the midst of all of this we started a largish (by which I mean walls were broken and other walls were put up, albeit small ones) project. Essentially I’ve always hated our bedroom because it does not have enough uninterrupted wall space to put bedside tables next to the bed. And people, if you are pretty much blind without glasses you must have a space where you can lay your glasses and your alarm clock. Plus, the only way I know how to fall asleep is by reading in bed, and having to get up to turn of the light and throwing the book on the floor just wasn’t cutting it. After two years of this, I decided enough was enough. There were doors to a walk in closet on either side of the bed. I closed those off, and created another opening on another wall of the closet, and repainted the bedroom. Or rather I had someone else do all that. It looks fabulous. But it was very disruptive. We had to move to another bedroom, there were constantly people in my house. And I don’t know why but the whole house seems to fall apart whenever I do a construction project of any kind. I’m having guests this weekend and am busy trying to create some semblance of order.

Career: You may or may not have noticed, but I brought over posts from another blog that I had been posting on. That blog was focusing on my career shifts over the last few years. Long story short – I’m a recovering academic. Hated research, but was completely indoctrinated into thinking that was the only career worth having.  I’m now in a different role in a college, and while I do enjoy it, I have discovered something else I enjoy more.  So, I’ve been training for the something else.  Will provide more details but for now, I have to get this up.

I quit smoking in 1996 1997 1998 2000 and pretty much have remained smoke free since then except for the occasional lapse as allowed by the this-shit-is-too-crazy-to-deal-with clause. The lapses usually coincided with things like finishing the PhD dissertation or a particularly bad break up and wouldn’t last more than a month at the most. I had smoked for about 10 years by the time I finally quit in 2000. I have no wish to be a smoker ever again, but I’ve always said that if there is one thing that would drive me to smoking again it would be the deadening effects of cigarette smoke on my sense of smell. The longer I went without smoking the more acute my sense of smell got. It drives me crazy… you know, where this is going don’t you?

Soooo, it’s been a while hasn’t it? I’ve just had so much going on that I have not been able to find one minute of free time to sit down and write. Lots has happened – we got married, I started working at a new job, we started serious home renovations. A time of lots of upheaval and change. But here’s one thing that didn’t happen – I didn’t diet. and here’s another thing – I didn’t gain weight. Usually when I’ve spent 3 months ‘off the wagon’ I gain a lot of weight. This time I’ve gone up and down the same 3 lbs but no major shifts. I didn’t really lose any weight either but then, I wasn’t trying to.