The Heat Is On

We are experimenting with ways to keep our electric bill down. One of them was to turn the temperature down to 60 (which really means it's about 40) and just dress really warm. Wool socks and a hoodie aren't cutting it for me. Husband consented to turn it up a notch when I threatened to break out the blanket-that-shall-not-be-named.

I don't understand the problem. I mean, sure, it's over 30 years old and it's been stained by barf and nosebleeds and boogers ... but it's been washed multiple times. In both detergent and bleach. He claims that the life of a blanket is 5 to 10 years. But who are we to set limits on a the life of a blanket with so much potential?

It doesn't have much to do with Rainbow Bright herself... though I did really love playing with that color form set when I was little. The 80s might have had bad hair, but they had great toys.

I love this blanket because my mom made it for me, and it's been the perfect weight and softness to bring comfort to a sick girl for many, many years. And, honestly, even though Husband is my favorite, he's only been in my life for a fraction of that time. I threw away my old feather pillow just for him ... but I'm not sure I'm ready to give up the blanket.

This Is What I Think About

I woke up from my Sunday afternoon nap weeping happy tears because I was re-living the beauty of my wedding day.

When I finally felt well enough to go out and get some fresh air, it was completely ruined because someone's dog (or everyone's dog, more likely) decided to take a poo on the trail, and I could smell it half a mile away.

I hate said dog and all dog owners. I want to projectile vomit on all of them, and their progeny, to the 7th generation.

I, who used to pride myself on my superior bladder control, now have to wake up to pee at least 3 times every night.

My reaction to that one video about mommies I saw on Facebook.

I call my mom every day.

I'm having a baby!!!

I am convinced that I doubled my child's chances of getting ADHD, autism, Alzheimers, ALS, and every autoimmune disorder out there because I took a tylenol to stifle the pain of a debilitating migraine. After puking so violently I burst a blood vessel... oh, wait. I think I took the tylenol before I puked. Maybe that means the baby didn't absorb any of it.

My sister sends me pictures of a pregnant fitness trainer who has muscles on top of her baby bump, and I just want to cry--because even though running and weight-lifting used to be my favorite things to do besides reading books, just getting up and walking across the room makes me want to hurl.

We did a tour of the local birthing center, and Man thinks they're so hippie he's surprised the whole place doesn't smell like vegan farts. It's ok, Hunny. I read a story on the internet about how hard childbirth is for daddies. There was one who passed out as the baby was born—poor dude broke his leg. It's a good thing they were in a hospital. 

Everyone thinks it's a girl.

What is there to get so excited about? We signed away our firstborn child a few months ago when we changed the terms of our lease.