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I love the way he touches and talks to my belly. Last night as we were falling asleep, he said something about how I was going to have to pry our daughter out of his arms. No no, it’s okay, he’ll hold her to the breast when she’s hungry.

It’s been five and a half years, a year married in May, and I still can’t believe my luck.


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Felt the baby move!

I thought a couple weeks ago that I had felt something, but when I recounted the weeks I realized it was only week 15 so it probably wasn’t the baby moving. But today I’m almost completely certain that’s what it was. I’ve got a few bubbles from lunch, but there were one or two pops that were definitely not in my intestines! They were in front where the midwife first put the doppler to look for a heartbeat at our last prenatal. I was sitting slouched over at my desk and it’s like the baby said, “Mom! Give me more room!”

And that’s the first time I’ve really thought of that word as applying to me. “Mom.” I admit it: I’m getting a bit teary-eyed. Mom! This whole time, I’ve been waiting to feel the baby move and know it’s really real. Yeah, my belly’s obviously bigger; yeah, we saw it on the sonogram at 12 weeks; yeah, I feel stuffed with less food…but feeling the baby kick me, that’s real first-hand proof.

Tomorrow marks week 18, though I have had some confusion about the date of my last period. I swore it was the 21st of November, but I also thought it was a Thursday, and the 21st was a Saturday. So it could be 18 weeks as of yesterday. Not that it really matters, but I am a stickler for accuracy >_>

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I waited until I believed the rain might have stopped, then headed home on my bike. I was completely wrong — it was sprinkling when I got on my bike (no big deal, I thought, it’ll taper off) but shortly thereafter started to actually rain. I was a little more than halfway home, riding north along a wide open soccer field, when I realized that the sun was very, very bright all of a sudden. I enjoyed the view of the summer rain falling gently over the grass, the whole scene highlighted by the shining sun — and I suddenly realized: it’s raining, and the sun’s shining brightly, and that means RAINBOW! I looked to my right, to the east, and there it was — a perfect rainbow splashed against the blue-grey clouds, its ghostly sister hovering above it at the ends.

As I rode, it got even brighter. At one point both rainbows were clearly visible from end to end, and the bright one was showing its “reflection” — the other side of it, under the purple, was blue-green again and I swear I saw orange at some point too. Were I less shy, I might have sat up on my bike and pointed, shouting “RAINBOW!” at the top of my lungs to all the people sitting dry in their cars. As it was I probably just freaked out a couple of drivers going the other way on the two-lane residential roads; I was well within my lane, but drivers get nervous enough around bicyclists, never mind when they’re staring at the sky instead of the road…

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Stressed-out kitty

So I couldn’t figure out why I was getting such crappy sleep. I mean, the new mattress and apartment would of course affect my sleeping patterns, but it was like I was just dozing for most of the night.

When Patch doesn’t get enough attention, he sometimes gets “all up ins,” as the slang goes, at night. Lying down with us isn’t enough at these times — he comes up and headbutts us and stands on sensitive bits and lays his extremely fuzzy tail over our faces. So I’m already trying to sleep on a new material (memory foam) in a new apartment at a new elevation (the bed is on the floor with no box spring, and we’re on the first floor instead of the third) with a cat trying  to get pets at all hours of the night, and it’s no wonder I wake up feeling like I’ve barely dozed.

We need to get him some cat grass, too, because he’s always had a taste for cardboard, as many/most cats apparently do, but now he’s chewing on plastic. When I get home from work this evening I’m going to dump out all the boxes (we don’t have places to put everything anyway because we don’t have much furniture), break them down, and throw them out to the garbage pile because my kitty is making himself sick on the tape. He threw up a record five or six times yesterday, once on our brand-new wedding gift rug, though I managed to clean it up well enough. I’m as glad as I thought I’d be that we have hardwood floors here.

I called the emergency vet last night after the last time he threw up, which had some plastic packaging in it. She suggested bringing him in, but since he wasn’t acting strangely and he doesn’t generally seem to chew on things when we’re not home and awake, I decided to wait and bring him to the regular vet this morning since I’m guessing it will be cheaper. She recommended taking his food and water away, though I gave it back to him this morning to see if he’d throw it up again, and two hours later he’s kept it down. So I called the regular vet and she seemed to think everything was all right until I mentioned he’d thrown up the plastic, when she said I should probably bring him in so the doctor can take a look at him. So we’ll leave in a few minutes.

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“The problem with defending the purity of the English language is that English is about as pure as a cribhouse whore. We don’t just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.”
–James Nicoll

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In the little parking lot of the little office building where I work, there is a car parked in a corner that always takes up two spots. This woman parks diagonally in a straight lot, so one tire is in the next spot. It doesn’t really matter; the lot has plenty of parking spots available at any given time. And I’m sure that if there were a shortage of spots, she wouldn’t park so haphazardly.

But it occurred to me today to wonder what this woman’s reaction would be if she arrived in the morning to find another vehicle in one of these spots. And the next day, if the vehicle was in the other spot? If it continued?

Just curious.

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I can’t wait to move.

It’s near the fourth of July…last year on the morning of the 2nd, I think, some asshole set off a firecracker right below our bedroom window, in the corridor between the several buildings where there’s concrete on all sides, so it’s extremely loud, at 2 in the morning. I had just recovered from the adrenaline rush and was starting to fall back to sleep when they set off another one. After a few more, I called the police and they said they’d send somebody over…but an hour later when they were still setting off firecrackers every 10 minutes or so, and I called again, the response was “you know it’s near the fourth of July…”

I made the mistake of losing my temper and yelling out the window for them to “stop it, people are trying to sleep.” Of course, because they were assholes, this sparked a firecracker every minute…until one of those other people who were trying to sleep started yelling, with a nearly hysterical edge to his voice: “If y’all don’t quit that shit, I’mma get my gang, and come down there, and beat the shit out of ALL Y’ALL! I got work tomorrow! Shit!” I don’t remember what else he said, but he continued on a rant about people making noise at night for a good two minutes, and when he stopped yelling, there was absolute blessed silence.

I gotta work on my ghetto accent.

This year we haven’t had firecrackers between the buildings yet, but this morning at around 2 am there were — surprise! — drunk college students outside our window, their gleeful yelling echoing through the concrete corridor. Now, there’s hardly any of this since the kids left for summer, and it doesn’t really even bother me anymore, but I’m still glad to be moving….Especially because of the construction of new crappy apartment buildings. 7:15 this morning, THUNK…THUNK…THUNK…THUNK… from the construction across the street, echoing into our bedroom window. Thanks guys. I guess if you have to be up early, then everybody else does too, right?

We’re moving into a quiet neighborhood on the other side of town, far, FAR away from campus. It’s the first floor of a pretty house, with a huge kitchen, hardwood floors, and a fireplace. And there aren’t any apartment buildings going up over there, either.

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