So. Not the most funnest set of days, these last 4-5. The hubby and I were... "not seeing eye to eye" you could say. Not fun. I think it's all resolved, but it's amazing how much domestic strife just takes it out of you.
And then work tonight sucked. I'm talking 7% overall. Yes, 7. Half of what I "should have made" and far less than the percentage I usually take. AND I had shitheads. Not just cheapskates, but cheapskate shitheads. Ugh.
On the up side, I got an hour and a half nap this afternoon. Probably saved me from crying at work. Huge props to the hubby for letting me just totally go unconscious (I don't think he was up to anything... "nefarious"... so there was nothing in it for him, heh heh) this afternoon.
PLUS, the hubby and I are going to spend the next few days "Spring Breaking". So we're just going to go to one city, and then another, and drink some glasses of wine and eat a couple tasty meals. And J's going to get his semen analyzed (nyeh nyeh nyeh). And we're going to make like bunnies afterwards (woot!). You know, "just relaxing". (On a side note, does pessimism count as relaxation?)
And I have a kitty on my lap, and that always makes the world a little brighter.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
So. I am a much better person with a buzz. White wine is best.
I'm more patient, more relaxed, less on edge. What is one to make of that? I certainly can't spend my life buzzing. Intentional alcoholism is alcoholism nonetheless, eh? *sigh*
All I know is that this ache for a baby is ... pervasive ... no matter what I try to do about it. And it affects me. But white wine seems to undo it. I am the stepmom I want to be with a buzz. Plus, I'm sort of reeling from a string of criticisms on the spouse front. So the last 24 hours have been unpleasant. And again, white wine undoes it.
So tell me, to drink or not to drink? That is the question.
I'm more patient, more relaxed, less on edge. What is one to make of that? I certainly can't spend my life buzzing. Intentional alcoholism is alcoholism nonetheless, eh? *sigh*
All I know is that this ache for a baby is ... pervasive ... no matter what I try to do about it. And it affects me. But white wine seems to undo it. I am the stepmom I want to be with a buzz. Plus, I'm sort of reeling from a string of criticisms on the spouse front. So the last 24 hours have been unpleasant. And again, white wine undoes it.
So tell me, to drink or not to drink? That is the question.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Signed, sealed, delivered
Here we are, CD16. I'm plumb sick of peeing on sticks, so I bypassed the OPKs this month. We've got the timing thing down pat, anyhow, and I hightly doubt I'm going to suddenly start ovulating on CD10 or something, so hey, we're covered. *sigh*
Monday, March 2, 2009
Clean Monday
"The springtime of the Fast has dawned, the flower of repentance has begun to open..."
Yesterday at church, I learned a small handful of new things. First, I learned that the Great Lent officially starts today, known as Clean Monday. I wasn't sure if it had already started last week or not. Apparently Meatfare Sunday through Cheesefare Sunday (one week) is a preparation time. You get ready. Today, we buckle down. You're also apparently supposed to thoroughly clean your house. We'll see if that gets done. It needs to be. The symbolism and the fact of it are not lost on me. :)
Apparently, there is a tradition (though it is not recommended that most people do it. In fact, they recommend that most do not, and if you do, it needs to be under a fair amount of guidance from your god parent or confessor) where some people do not allow anything - not food, not even water - to pass their lips from Communion on Sunday yesterday til the Service of the Pre-Sanctified (but don't ask me what that is) on Wednesday night. YIKES.
Also. And this was cool. At the end of the service yesterday, we had what's called the Ceremony of Mutual Forgiveness where every single person asked forgiveness from every other single person in the church, and it was mutually granted. (They had quite the system rigged up so that eveyr person actually met with and shook hands with everybody else) It was odd, because though I've been going for 4 years, I've only just started being more involved with the church and hardly know most of these people at all. But it made me think. It's possible to commit harms against people you hardly know, and it's possible to do it without even knowing. So I suppose it wasn't just an exercise. It did make me want to go into work and ask people's forgiveness there. I didn't. I was a bit of a chicken. But what good is it, really, to fast and pray with the intent of approaching God when things with your neighbor are still a mess? :-/
Yesterday at church, I learned a small handful of new things. First, I learned that the Great Lent officially starts today, known as Clean Monday. I wasn't sure if it had already started last week or not. Apparently Meatfare Sunday through Cheesefare Sunday (one week) is a preparation time. You get ready. Today, we buckle down. You're also apparently supposed to thoroughly clean your house. We'll see if that gets done. It needs to be. The symbolism and the fact of it are not lost on me. :)
Apparently, there is a tradition (though it is not recommended that most people do it. In fact, they recommend that most do not, and if you do, it needs to be under a fair amount of guidance from your god parent or confessor) where some people do not allow anything - not food, not even water - to pass their lips from Communion on Sunday yesterday til the Service of the Pre-Sanctified (but don't ask me what that is) on Wednesday night. YIKES.
Also. And this was cool. At the end of the service yesterday, we had what's called the Ceremony of Mutual Forgiveness where every single person asked forgiveness from every other single person in the church, and it was mutually granted. (They had quite the system rigged up so that eveyr person actually met with and shook hands with everybody else) It was odd, because though I've been going for 4 years, I've only just started being more involved with the church and hardly know most of these people at all. But it made me think. It's possible to commit harms against people you hardly know, and it's possible to do it without even knowing. So I suppose it wasn't just an exercise. It did make me want to go into work and ask people's forgiveness there. I didn't. I was a bit of a chicken. But what good is it, really, to fast and pray with the intent of approaching God when things with your neighbor are still a mess? :-/
Sunday, March 1, 2009
A few short notes
Dear party of one, table 64,
Wow, thank you for the 100% tip. I'd hoped, with your bill of $13.47 that you'd hand me $17 and tell me to keep it. I mean, that would have been awesome. I didn't expect you to hand me $27 and tell me to keep it. You're a little old lady for pete's sake. How was I supposed to have known? But then, that's the delight of it. Or at least part of the delight in it (because the extra $10 is pretty cool in itself). I would have deserved a 20% tip. I didn't deserve 100%. It's nice, from time to time, when the tip tells more about the person giving it than the person getting it. Or rather, it's nice when it works out that way in a good way. Some people are just plain cheap, no way around it. Others, like you, are just plain generous. I want to be like you.
Dear party of one, table 64 (a different one),
I'm sorry I originally pegged you as the sort who'd stalk me after work and murder me with a pick. You looked freaky, really. I mean, shaggy hair, baseball cap pulled down over your eyes, black skull T-shirt, you mumbled... How was I supposed to have known? But then, that's the delight of it. Or at least part of the delight of it (because the 25% tip you left was pretty awesome in itself). I couldn't have guessed, and it's always just plain COOL to stumble into a pool of gentleness and kindness where it's not expected. You were very nice, very pleasant, and I'd wait on you again in a minute. I hope you had a nice evening and a lovely day tomorrow. May someone bring a ray of unexpected sunshine into your life, just as you did mine.
(Entertaining angels? Either way...)
I had a good night at work, and a good night after work. :)
Wow, thank you for the 100% tip. I'd hoped, with your bill of $13.47 that you'd hand me $17 and tell me to keep it. I mean, that would have been awesome. I didn't expect you to hand me $27 and tell me to keep it. You're a little old lady for pete's sake. How was I supposed to have known? But then, that's the delight of it. Or at least part of the delight in it (because the extra $10 is pretty cool in itself). I would have deserved a 20% tip. I didn't deserve 100%. It's nice, from time to time, when the tip tells more about the person giving it than the person getting it. Or rather, it's nice when it works out that way in a good way. Some people are just plain cheap, no way around it. Others, like you, are just plain generous. I want to be like you.
Dear party of one, table 64 (a different one),
I'm sorry I originally pegged you as the sort who'd stalk me after work and murder me with a pick. You looked freaky, really. I mean, shaggy hair, baseball cap pulled down over your eyes, black skull T-shirt, you mumbled... How was I supposed to have known? But then, that's the delight of it. Or at least part of the delight of it (because the 25% tip you left was pretty awesome in itself). I couldn't have guessed, and it's always just plain COOL to stumble into a pool of gentleness and kindness where it's not expected. You were very nice, very pleasant, and I'd wait on you again in a minute. I hope you had a nice evening and a lovely day tomorrow. May someone bring a ray of unexpected sunshine into your life, just as you did mine.
(Entertaining angels? Either way...)
I had a good night at work, and a good night after work. :)
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Dear Child
Dear Child,
This is your mother. I'm writing just to let you know that I love you already, and have for a long time. I feel like you're very far away from me today, and in a way I'm thankful for the longer view, for the reprieve from the taut hope of imminence. But in a way I grieve the time and distance. So I'm writing this to span all that.
My child, my child, I long to count your little pink fingers and toes, to touch your nose, to feel your fist around my finger, and yes, even to hear you scream yourself red sometimes. I imagine seeing myself in your smile, your father in your eyes (I hope you get his - so warm and keen at once) and strains of your aunts, uncles and grandparents in your personality (they're awesome people, every one of them). I hope you arrive in time to know all 4 of my grandparents, your great-grandparents. Do hurry. Time gets only shorter this side of eternity. I want them to see your face.
Child, there is so much here to see and know and learn and take joy in. I know, I know, there will be times I try to sell you to your grandmother (and she will almost take you every time - but she will always remind me where you belong). There will be times you scream and slam the door and think you hate me. But all that, just like all this, will be worth it. There is such treasure to be found even in heartache. There are always streams in the desert. Not all tears are an evil. And love reaches far deeper and far further than we can imagine.
So child, here in the meantime, I love you and I go about my life. I love your father (he's amazing, and you'll adore him), I love your big half-sister and brother, I love our God. All will be most well.
This is your mother. I'm writing just to let you know that I love you already, and have for a long time. I feel like you're very far away from me today, and in a way I'm thankful for the longer view, for the reprieve from the taut hope of imminence. But in a way I grieve the time and distance. So I'm writing this to span all that.
My child, my child, I long to count your little pink fingers and toes, to touch your nose, to feel your fist around my finger, and yes, even to hear you scream yourself red sometimes. I imagine seeing myself in your smile, your father in your eyes (I hope you get his - so warm and keen at once) and strains of your aunts, uncles and grandparents in your personality (they're awesome people, every one of them). I hope you arrive in time to know all 4 of my grandparents, your great-grandparents. Do hurry. Time gets only shorter this side of eternity. I want them to see your face.
Child, there is so much here to see and know and learn and take joy in. I know, I know, there will be times I try to sell you to your grandmother (and she will almost take you every time - but she will always remind me where you belong). There will be times you scream and slam the door and think you hate me. But all that, just like all this, will be worth it. There is such treasure to be found even in heartache. There are always streams in the desert. Not all tears are an evil. And love reaches far deeper and far further than we can imagine.
So child, here in the meantime, I love you and I go about my life. I love your father (he's amazing, and you'll adore him), I love your big half-sister and brother, I love our God. All will be most well.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Shorter than the last one...
Promise. This post will be shorter than the last two.
All I have to say right now is that I have "acute sinusitis" (but it's cute!), which is an odd diagnosis, since all the congestion is in my chest. But I have meds. And I'm looking forward to being better. Because I feel pretty stinking rotten right now.
I'm also trying not to shake my fist because today is CD11 and I don't want to miss an opportunity to try. I know I ovulate late, so it should be fine, but still. Still. I don't really have high hopes this cycle, though I think that's more due to the fairly predictable cycling of emotions throughout this whole TTC effort. One month, hopes are very high. The next, they plummet. I'm in month 2 of the 3-4 month post-HSG fertility spike, so our chances are better than even 2 months ago. But still, the heart is heavy. Something changed in me 11 days ago, and the question shifted from "when?" to "if?"
*sigh* *cough cough*
Maybe I'll go sleep for a while.
All I have to say right now is that I have "acute sinusitis" (but it's cute!), which is an odd diagnosis, since all the congestion is in my chest. But I have meds. And I'm looking forward to being better. Because I feel pretty stinking rotten right now.
I'm also trying not to shake my fist because today is CD11 and I don't want to miss an opportunity to try. I know I ovulate late, so it should be fine, but still. Still. I don't really have high hopes this cycle, though I think that's more due to the fairly predictable cycling of emotions throughout this whole TTC effort. One month, hopes are very high. The next, they plummet. I'm in month 2 of the 3-4 month post-HSG fertility spike, so our chances are better than even 2 months ago. But still, the heart is heavy. Something changed in me 11 days ago, and the question shifted from "when?" to "if?"
*sigh* *cough cough*
Maybe I'll go sleep for a while.
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