for NaBloPoMo
So I'm back. This is after a couple days of long rides interspersed with regular walk-breaks. Today, we got started way early, and it rained all day, but we got home in the middle of the afternoon instead of rather late at night, so it was good. It was really good to be away, and it's good to be back now.
We came in in a drizzle, greeted the cats at length (they were happy to see us), and unloaded the entire car, including all the bits of trash that tend to accumulate and the second-hand toddler potty that makes flushing noises and plays music when you press the handle (ahh, don't you love it?!).
I always spend some time putting things away. The house was already mostly picked up before we left, but all the detritus of our trip can trip us up for days if I don't get right on it. I put away all the food bags, the cooler items, unpacked the toiletries, unpacked all my bag-o-stuff ranging from the cell phone charger to my neck pillow to that new book my niece is loaning me, and distributed various items where they belong. I haven't yet gotten to the clothes, but I will, and then there will be laundry.
I checked email (at least I'd been reading and deleting daily if not doing much correspondence), caught up a little on news. I went through the mail and extracted bills from junk, filed some forms.
Then I drank some juice and lay down for an hour.
Then I finally made myself sit down and listen to the answering machine.
Oy.
I have the capability to listen to the machine from afar, but I rarely make the effort. So the messages, they do tend to pile up a little whenever we are gone for more than a day or two. Not that we get many messages, but that's just the way it works: we leave town for a couple days or a week, and mysteriously, people need to talk to us and leave long, involved messages for us to find later. Often, they are from one of our friends asking about something that will resolve itself well before we get home, or one of my sisters inviting us at the last minute to get together. Sometimes, it's one of my husband's many colleagues with either a Q or information about the upcoming week or checking in from the other side of the country.
Of all the messages tonight, they were all for me. Two doctor offices, one impassioned request to pick something up before we left for Thanksgiving (one of those in the too late category), and at least two requests from two different people about what may or may not prove to be the same gig. For next weekend. (Cue sound of screaming: aaaaiiiigh!!)
All of these people, I need to call back, and you know me: I don't like talking on the phone! And I also need to make decisions. The one doctor is easy enough - make an annual appointment. But should I offer to meet my sister in the next town over to transfer the item she wants? But what is my schedule like this week? (full and capricious) Should I turn down the one or possibly two last-minute gigs flat or ask about circumstances (if I get to work with some of my favorite musicians) even though I am feeling already stressed? (Mr Sweetie says yes.) Or is that already resolved since I obviously took more than a week to get back to them and they've made other plans? And what the hell does that one nurse want to talk to me about? Do I even want to know?? (I sometimes/often/always suspect bad news first because, well, it often is.) Aaaand does this mean I have to go back in for another test? Gawd, I sure hope not!!!!
So I suddenly have all these decisions and speculations to disturb my transition back to my usual life. Rats. Maybe if I put them all on my list for tomorrow, they will become neat and orderly items under "post office - stamps" and "pay bills" and "rake leaves" and "laundry!"
I am hoping for breathing room. Grumpf, grumpf.
And oh, yeah, hi. This is my last post of the month for November NaBloPoMo. It was fun. Thanks for reading!
--
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
The Thankful Day
for NaBloPoMo
My niece and nephews are old enough to hold actual conversations with. They told me all about their recent lives, teased each other about people who may actually like them, made pumpkin bread, taught me how to play "rock star," and passed out pie. Awesome! Then the youngest started screaming and havoc and stuff. Not enough tryptophan, I tell you. We all nap now, and when we awake, we'll have more pie and a game. Back to the awesome.
My niece and nephews are old enough to hold actual conversations with. They told me all about their recent lives, teased each other about people who may actually like them, made pumpkin bread, taught me how to play "rock star," and passed out pie. Awesome! Then the youngest started screaming and havoc and stuff. Not enough tryptophan, I tell you. We all nap now, and when we awake, we'll have more pie and a game. Back to the awesome.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Traveling Retreat
for NaBloPoMo
Things to do in a hotel room for x hours.
A recreation
Figure out how to turn on the heat. Rearrange chair. Take 2 minute nap with feet up.
Look at the bathroom layout and check out all the free toiletries. Try out the hand lotion.
See whether the hotel has an exercise room/pool.
Debate whether the swimming pool is even open. Decide that, if it's this cold outside, probably not.
Eat some cheese and crackers. Eat some truffles. Eat an apple and some walnuts.
Test all the pillows. Bounce on the bed. Look for another blanket. Nap.
Read a new book. Debate whether to start addressing Christmas cards.
Figure out how to access free wireless internet.
Check email. Try to remember all your passwords. Check Facebook. Check Twitter. Check Flickr. Post for NaBloPoMo. Check world news.
Scroll through lots of excruciatingly bad television in search of intelligent life.
Watch three episodes of "Third Rock From the Sun" in a row.
Look for Tina Fey credits.
Google Tina Fey on free internet access. Realize that all this time, that you were confusing "Third Rock" with "Thirty Rock."
Finish reading the paper.
Nap. Snuggle. Carry on.
Find intelligent life on TV and decide to eat some cereal.
Think about grading papers.
Drink more water. Turn down heat.
Fret over swollen ankles. Prop up feet.
Take a long shower. Test all the free toiletries. Do yoga. Drink more water.
Listen to clock radio.
Clean coat where burrito sauce dripped.
Rearrange clothing in luggage.
Talk about the route/schedule for tomorrow.
Look at the clock.
Read more on the book.
Comb hair. Fret about how dry it is. Turn down heat.
Get ice. Drink juice. Rearrange food in cooler.
Check weather report. Notice that it's still cold. Tuck in fleece lap blanket.
Arrange pillows. Nap.
Pause to let child kick you (again).
Eat another snack. Drink water. Read. Check email.
Wonder where the last 10 hours went. Decide it doesn't matter.
Sleep.
--
Things to do in a hotel room for x hours.
A recreation
Figure out how to turn on the heat. Rearrange chair. Take 2 minute nap with feet up.
Look at the bathroom layout and check out all the free toiletries. Try out the hand lotion.
See whether the hotel has an exercise room/pool.
Debate whether the swimming pool is even open. Decide that, if it's this cold outside, probably not.
Eat some cheese and crackers. Eat some truffles. Eat an apple and some walnuts.
Test all the pillows. Bounce on the bed. Look for another blanket. Nap.
Read a new book. Debate whether to start addressing Christmas cards.
Figure out how to access free wireless internet.
Check email. Try to remember all your passwords. Check Facebook. Check Twitter. Check Flickr. Post for NaBloPoMo. Check world news.
Scroll through lots of excruciatingly bad television in search of intelligent life.
Watch three episodes of "Third Rock From the Sun" in a row.
Look for Tina Fey credits.
Google Tina Fey on free internet access. Realize that all this time, that you were confusing "Third Rock" with "Thirty Rock."
Finish reading the paper.
Nap. Snuggle. Carry on.
Find intelligent life on TV and decide to eat some cereal.
Think about grading papers.
Drink more water. Turn down heat.
Fret over swollen ankles. Prop up feet.
Take a long shower. Test all the free toiletries. Do yoga. Drink more water.
Listen to clock radio.
Clean coat where burrito sauce dripped.
Rearrange clothing in luggage.
Talk about the route/schedule for tomorrow.
Look at the clock.
Read more on the book.
Comb hair. Fret about how dry it is. Turn down heat.
Get ice. Drink juice. Rearrange food in cooler.
Check weather report. Notice that it's still cold. Tuck in fleece lap blanket.
Arrange pillows. Nap.
Pause to let child kick you (again).
Eat another snack. Drink water. Read. Check email.
Wonder where the last 10 hours went. Decide it doesn't matter.
Sleep.
--
Saturday, November 22, 2008
From the Road
for NaBloPoMo
Nice things along the way:
Reclined naps with pillow to cushion the bounciness of the road.
Black cows against snow-dusted hillsides.
Homemade ice cream in bitterly cold weather.
Walkable down towns.
Fleece lap warmers.
Getting off early in the day so we can get in early in the day.
Early vacation.
A clean kitchen to come home to.
Truffles for the road.
More relaxation than stress.
Free wireless access.
It's lovely.
--
Nice things along the way:
Reclined naps with pillow to cushion the bounciness of the road.
Black cows against snow-dusted hillsides.
Homemade ice cream in bitterly cold weather.
Walkable down towns.
Fleece lap warmers.
Getting off early in the day so we can get in early in the day.
Early vacation.
A clean kitchen to come home to.
Truffles for the road.
More relaxation than stress.
Free wireless access.
It's lovely.
--
Friday, November 21, 2008
Working Ahead From Behind
for NaBloPoMo
Yeah, I always work ahead. That's why I post for NaBloPoMo early. Always. Not. :)
However, I have started to get a jump on the holidays. FlyLady keeps us cruising through November doing everything in bite-sized increments early so that it's not such a grind at the end. Me, I'm a big fan of Christmas cards. I love getting those end-of-year letters. I love the glitter and glow. So even though I have not even thought much (yet) about the exact shape of the holidays, I feel happy to have my list compiled, my addresses mostly ready, the boxes ready to go. I am already compiling ingredients for this year's pizelles. I am already plotting to decorate cookies again with my niece. It'll be a most wonderful time of the year.
But first, I travel into the wilds of the midwest where internet may be spotty. At some point this weekend or next week, my NaBloPoMo effort will sputter to a halt under the lack of computer connection. So we shall see. But I will have real-life connection, and sometimes that's unbloggable.
Wishing you all good connections and Happy Turkey Day, early.

--
Yeah, I always work ahead. That's why I post for NaBloPoMo early. Always. Not. :)
However, I have started to get a jump on the holidays. FlyLady keeps us cruising through November doing everything in bite-sized increments early so that it's not such a grind at the end. Me, I'm a big fan of Christmas cards. I love getting those end-of-year letters. I love the glitter and glow. So even though I have not even thought much (yet) about the exact shape of the holidays, I feel happy to have my list compiled, my addresses mostly ready, the boxes ready to go. I am already compiling ingredients for this year's pizelles. I am already plotting to decorate cookies again with my niece. It'll be a most wonderful time of the year.
But first, I travel into the wilds of the midwest where internet may be spotty. At some point this weekend or next week, my NaBloPoMo effort will sputter to a halt under the lack of computer connection. So we shall see. But I will have real-life connection, and sometimes that's unbloggable.
Wishing you all good connections and Happy Turkey Day, early.

--
Thursday, November 20, 2008
One of those days on the go
for NaBloPoMo
Here's where I look at the clock and say to myself, "Oh, crap!" Only half an hour to make my post.
Today I've been preoccupied with other things besides all the wonderful writing ideas in my head. For instance, I woke up this morning feeling like I was coming down with a cold. Snuffly and drippy with a side order of bleeding dry (?) nose. Yet I was not sure of what to eat OR does myself with given my upcoming test, so... I ate a little (non-sweetened) bran flake cereal, drank a little (non-contraindicated) herbal tea and went back to bed.
I dragged myself awake two hours later, got myself presentable for the public, and went off for my latest OB appointment wherein my doctor told me that *this* time she sounded like a girl (ha! unlike three months ago), experimentally shoved my uterus around (cool!), measured me (just right for my gestation) and pronounced me good to go.
Oh, did I mention that this was the day that I drank the super-sweet Glucola stuff? The nurse came in with two bottles, and just as I was about to ask her how much of it I had to drink, she told me my dose was only *half* a bottle, but that I had to drink it down within two minutes from start to finish. Internets, why do you scare me so? The stuff was not bad. I repeat: tolerable! I've eaten pie that was sweeter! And then I felt fine, just fine. Mr. Sweetie was the one who was famished and begged my granola bar to offset his lack of lunch. And I was just fine. Of course, I had a modest lunch beforehand, so I was not chugging the stuff on an empty stomach. What the internets did not tell me was that I wasn't allowed to even drink any water in the hour following. Yikes.
Then after the timed blood draw, we were on our was to nosh on a proper lunch, both of us. And the counter lady knew immediately about the Glucola! I was just amazed that she picked up on my condition under all my fleece. She said: Girl, pleeease! You're rockin'! And then she told us about her oldest baby, who is 17 years and 6 feet, and still asking her advice about college admissions.
Devoured a grilled cheese and some delish "gypsy soup" (tomatoes, chickpeas, and squash), and THEN drove over to the next city/suburb to make headway on my errands. Some approved cold medicine (just in case), Christmas truffles (for family stockings), and some fab Christmas cards (starting my pre Xmas list). Looove that tastefully-accented-with-glitter look!
And then home to reconvene with Mr. Sweetie and head in the *other* direction of the region for our first childbirth class. Six couples, all on their first children, three of us due within the same week (yes!), and most of us willing to admit our trepidations. The instructor said she cut and chopped the curriculum to make sure we spent part of every class on the vital stuff, not necessarily spending two whole hours on a single topic that would bore us or overwhelm us. Mr. Sweetie got a "coach point" right away and when asked if he even knew there were going to be coach points (and what they were), he said, No, but we want them! Lots of humor. It was good. All the Dads were all clearly cool people. Still getting to know the other Moms. The instructor tossed us "golden nipples" (chocolate kisses with almonds) for coming up with advantages for breast-feeding. Learning plus chocolate! Plus protein and color illustrations. We can see that there is a definite bias towards the natural childbirth in the class, but not annoyingly so. That's what it's all about anyway. We are all there to learn.
And no! I'm still! Awake! Or maybe it's the brownie! See? It's my OMG-I-don't-have-time-to-write-a-NaBloPoMo-post kind of day. Off to bed.
--
Here's where I look at the clock and say to myself, "Oh, crap!" Only half an hour to make my post.
Today I've been preoccupied with other things besides all the wonderful writing ideas in my head. For instance, I woke up this morning feeling like I was coming down with a cold. Snuffly and drippy with a side order of bleeding dry (?) nose. Yet I was not sure of what to eat OR does myself with given my upcoming test, so... I ate a little (non-sweetened) bran flake cereal, drank a little (non-contraindicated) herbal tea and went back to bed.
I dragged myself awake two hours later, got myself presentable for the public, and went off for my latest OB appointment wherein my doctor told me that *this* time she sounded like a girl (ha! unlike three months ago), experimentally shoved my uterus around (cool!), measured me (just right for my gestation) and pronounced me good to go.
Oh, did I mention that this was the day that I drank the super-sweet Glucola stuff? The nurse came in with two bottles, and just as I was about to ask her how much of it I had to drink, she told me my dose was only *half* a bottle, but that I had to drink it down within two minutes from start to finish. Internets, why do you scare me so? The stuff was not bad. I repeat: tolerable! I've eaten pie that was sweeter! And then I felt fine, just fine. Mr. Sweetie was the one who was famished and begged my granola bar to offset his lack of lunch. And I was just fine. Of course, I had a modest lunch beforehand, so I was not chugging the stuff on an empty stomach. What the internets did not tell me was that I wasn't allowed to even drink any water in the hour following. Yikes.
Then after the timed blood draw, we were on our was to nosh on a proper lunch, both of us. And the counter lady knew immediately about the Glucola! I was just amazed that she picked up on my condition under all my fleece. She said: Girl, pleeease! You're rockin'! And then she told us about her oldest baby, who is 17 years and 6 feet, and still asking her advice about college admissions.
Devoured a grilled cheese and some delish "gypsy soup" (tomatoes, chickpeas, and squash), and THEN drove over to the next city/suburb to make headway on my errands. Some approved cold medicine (just in case), Christmas truffles (for family stockings), and some fab Christmas cards (starting my pre Xmas list). Looove that tastefully-accented-with-glitter look!
And then home to reconvene with Mr. Sweetie and head in the *other* direction of the region for our first childbirth class. Six couples, all on their first children, three of us due within the same week (yes!), and most of us willing to admit our trepidations. The instructor said she cut and chopped the curriculum to make sure we spent part of every class on the vital stuff, not necessarily spending two whole hours on a single topic that would bore us or overwhelm us. Mr. Sweetie got a "coach point" right away and when asked if he even knew there were going to be coach points (and what they were), he said, No, but we want them! Lots of humor. It was good. All the Dads were all clearly cool people. Still getting to know the other Moms. The instructor tossed us "golden nipples" (chocolate kisses with almonds) for coming up with advantages for breast-feeding. Learning plus chocolate! Plus protein and color illustrations. We can see that there is a definite bias towards the natural childbirth in the class, but not annoyingly so. That's what it's all about anyway. We are all there to learn.
And no! I'm still! Awake! Or maybe it's the brownie! See? It's my OMG-I-don't-have-time-to-write-a-NaBloPoMo-post kind of day. Off to bed.
--
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The next viewing starts at 10:45
for NaBloPoMo
I have been entertained by the belly the last several months. I take pictures of myself every so often, just to document the progression and expansion. Different scenes, different angles, new art.
My mother takes pictures of me every month to show off when she visits relatives. (I can only presume that they are reasonably attractive.)
My in-laws are chomping at the bit to see me next week as they haven't laid eyes on the belly yet, or hands on it, either.
My one friend eyes it like it might bite her. Oh Mah Gawd, look at that thing.
Another friend waves at the belly and talks to it. Hi baby!
My sister emailed me today to say she was wondering how big I was getting these days. She hasn't seen me for several months, so I sent her a bunch of my pics.
This is one of my favorite pics of the belly so far, even though it's a month out of date already.

The cats are, of course, oblivious to the belly.
People sometimes want to feel the belly too, and I'm surprised at how little that's bothered me. Or maybe everyone seeking a belly rub thus far has been affectionate and respectful instead of attempting a surprise lunge, so I'm okay with that. Do not lunge or slap at the belly, thanks.
I saw some pictures of myself from last weekend, though, and I am not amused.
I thought I'd get away with looking "great" the whole time. That's what people keep telling me: I "look great." But this week, I've started putting on additional layers.
My reaction: Noooooooo!
My arms are getting fat, my chin is fat, my hips are yet larger, my *back* is getting plumper. Gack! I didn't even know that was possible.
I even saw a bit of video of myself, and I move like a thick waisted linebacker. Gracefully, but yes, a linebacker. Is this what Twyla Tharp wanted to document when she was expecting her own child? It certainly has its own style.
It's an adjustment. It's already been a physical adjustment; now it's an ego adjustment. Argh, argh, argh. This doesn't even look like me, not my usual self. My self image is still in shock.
But then I look again at the Tharp video. She drew upon that memory and visual documentation to inspire a new work of dance Baker's Dozen.
I'm thinking that although it's a shock to see my latest self, maybe I should embrace that. Make it like a new work of dance. A new work for unusual times. A new work for *rare* times. Because how often will this happen to me again? Not likely ever.
So, okay, Twyla, lead me on. Because this schlumpy linebacker doesn't know what to think of herself.
--
I have been entertained by the belly the last several months. I take pictures of myself every so often, just to document the progression and expansion. Different scenes, different angles, new art.
My mother takes pictures of me every month to show off when she visits relatives. (I can only presume that they are reasonably attractive.)
My in-laws are chomping at the bit to see me next week as they haven't laid eyes on the belly yet, or hands on it, either.
My one friend eyes it like it might bite her. Oh Mah Gawd, look at that thing.
Another friend waves at the belly and talks to it. Hi baby!
My sister emailed me today to say she was wondering how big I was getting these days. She hasn't seen me for several months, so I sent her a bunch of my pics.
This is one of my favorite pics of the belly so far, even though it's a month out of date already.

The cats are, of course, oblivious to the belly.
People sometimes want to feel the belly too, and I'm surprised at how little that's bothered me. Or maybe everyone seeking a belly rub thus far has been affectionate and respectful instead of attempting a surprise lunge, so I'm okay with that. Do not lunge or slap at the belly, thanks.
I saw some pictures of myself from last weekend, though, and I am not amused.
I thought I'd get away with looking "great" the whole time. That's what people keep telling me: I "look great." But this week, I've started putting on additional layers.
My reaction: Noooooooo!
My arms are getting fat, my chin is fat, my hips are yet larger, my *back* is getting plumper. Gack! I didn't even know that was possible.
I even saw a bit of video of myself, and I move like a thick waisted linebacker. Gracefully, but yes, a linebacker. Is this what Twyla Tharp wanted to document when she was expecting her own child? It certainly has its own style.
It's an adjustment. It's already been a physical adjustment; now it's an ego adjustment. Argh, argh, argh. This doesn't even look like me, not my usual self. My self image is still in shock.
But then I look again at the Tharp video. She drew upon that memory and visual documentation to inspire a new work of dance Baker's Dozen.
I'm thinking that although it's a shock to see my latest self, maybe I should embrace that. Make it like a new work of dance. A new work for unusual times. A new work for *rare* times. Because how often will this happen to me again? Not likely ever.
So, okay, Twyla, lead me on. Because this schlumpy linebacker doesn't know what to think of herself.
--
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