Everything and Nothing
We're having weekend guests--lots of 'em--five adults, one bathroom, pray for us--so it's been one exciting whirlwind of a week involving straightening the kitchen and cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming (and vacumming again, damn cats) everything and organizing the pile of crap on the dining room table, thereby discovering all manner of bills that needed to be paid...uh, last Tuesday. I also started laundry yesterday, or was it two days ago?, and imagine my delight when it solved what was quickly becoming a Question for the Ages: How is it that I have fifty pairs of underwear and yet cannot find a one? Answer: They are all dirty because you haven't done laundry in weeks and weeks, you sloth. I have also discovered that it is no longer physically possible for me to carry a full basket of laundry down into the basement, so that's fun.
And I'll admit it's partly sloth that's brought us to this point, but it's also partly that this summer has turned into a bit of an overscheduled frenzy of weddings and conferences and freelance jobs and home improvement projects and baby prep, all of which must be tackled on the weekend because I'm spent by 6 p.m. every other day of the week. Work is insane--we're moving our entire office to another building in about three weeks--and when I get home I barely have the energy to eat my dinner let alone dictate (from my throne) to Simon (who is wearing humble rags made of sackcloth) which foods and preparation techniques are desirable and which are not. (I may be demanding but at least I'm polite about it. Lots of pleases and thank yous; good for the child and will offset the swearing, yes? And Wednesday, or was it Thursday?, he didn't have to fix dinner for me at all because I took care of it with several bowls of Frosted Flakes and a heaping helping of chips and salsa! Go me! (I also woke up starving in the middle of the night. Lesson learned.))
I realize that this is supposed to be the "comfortable trimester," and although my complaints are few (the sciatica and hip joint pain is gone! for now!), I'm finding it's a lot of work hauling around an extra sevenish pounds, even if it's only to and from the bathroom, and the fatigue is trying. Add to that the fact that this fatigue does not come conveniently packaged with malaise, and what you have is me sprawled on the couch trying to keep my eyes open while my brain is screaming "Dishes! Laundry! Scrub the baseboards! Organize the filing cabinets! Sew a Boppy cover! Learn Photoshop! Book vacation to Hawaii while you still can!" It's all rather entertaining inside my body right now.
Finally, speaking of entertaining, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Our three guests descend tonight, and since none of them is likely to check this site before they arrive, I will tell you what they will find upon opening crossing the threshold: the foil Happy Birthday sign strung over the dining room table, and one orange kitten in a party frock and cone hat with chinstrap. There will, in fact, be chinstrapped cone hats for everyone, and we will be singing "Happy Birthday...you look like a monkey...etc." to Baby Linus today because he's one now and that's what we do in our house. We may be busy, but don't let anyone tell you we don't have our priorities straight.
How is he already one?! Such a big guy!
Don't worry! You've got an ironclad excuse for everything: I'm pregnant.
My personal ironclad excuse for everything is: I'm getting married in three months.
I'm going to be sad to lose it...
And good for you doing up birthdays right. I try to never let people go without a nice birthday pie, myself.
1. I am glad I'm not the only one whose dining room table is piled high with random papers and overdue bills. I hate that I always let the crap collect there, but there seems to be no stopping it.
2. Also, you have only gained 7 pounds?!? So not fair.
3. Happy Birthday to that sweet kitty of yours.
Happy Birthday to Linus!
Farley and Rudy wanted me to tell Linus happy birthday for them. Meow.
Happy Birthday Linus!
(You little stinker, you. I miss you like I miss your Mom and Dad.)
The visual of Simon in sackcloth is priceless.
Ha, well we sang happy birthday TO MY BLOG last night, so I'm no one to judge =)
Picture of kitten in frock and party hat please!
Considering you are pregnant and well on your way to mommyhood, you are allowed to throw the cat a birthday party. It's not like when Junior comes along you'll have time or energy to do things like that again. :-)
Learn Photoshop? I'd recommend Lightroom for you, too, because it is supposed to help organize photos as well. You may think you take a ton of photos now. Just wait. It will become insane very quickly.