Thanksgiving and Thanksgetting
So! Thanksgiving!* We covered the turkey with bacon again, and lo, it was a steaming hunk of juicy, fatty heaven. We set out the fancy dishes and the fancy wine, and we even donned non-spandex-based pants for the occasion, although just barely, and I was in green fuzzy slippers from bed-time to bedtime, holiday finery be damned if my feet aren't comfortable. Despite a few minor mishaps (the baby kicked my ugly-cute turkey figurine into a candle and melted its polyester wing; I hung up the baby's first holiday-appropriate hand-turkey** before the glitter glue dried, and it ended up looking like the orange My Little Pony fell asleep on it with her mouth open; on the two days we had someone in the house who would happily deal with the baby before the crack of noon, the little cuss slept until 10 a.m.), it was a great weekend. Simon's mom hitched a ride up from SoCal, made enough stuffing to last three addicts four days, and played on the floor ad infinitum with her only grandson, which perfectly dovetailed with my plans to sit upright on actual furniture and drink a cup of tea from start to finish like a civilized person (in fuzzy green slippers). And for that I am thankful.
On Sunday after we said goodbye to Simon's mom and set her in motion on the bumper-to-bumper train of cars that I-5 no doubt was at the end of the holiday weekend, our little family put on our most attractive sweaters*** and attended what was ostensibly a laid-back tea party but was in actuality, for me at least, several hours of cookie-fueled volunteer docent work at a zoo comprised of seven kids in one small condo, all of whom were VERY LOUD but at least content to remain inside the plastic play-yard, all of them, that is, except the one who wanted to swirl his hands in the toilet and pull over the kitchen garbage can and shake down the Christmas tree and sample from teacups abandoned on the coffee table, and I bet you'll never guess which kid that was! I broke out my Very Stern Mom voice and everything; a wiser baby would have been Very Afraid, or at least a little bit faster.
And that was how this Very Busy Week started. Up next: On Tuesday night, I'm going straight from work to home to the city, where we're meeting Will and Nina for cocktails (our first time seeing them since their superstar Vegas wedding!) while Holly and Sean spoil Wombat and hopefully send him home with better manners and/or some of that delectable hot pumpkin bread desserty thing they make. Then, on Thursday, we'll be joining our SF blog crew for the BlogHer holiday party, by which time I really hope I'll have (a) something to wear and (b) a babysitter, lest I arrive clad in nothing but an Ergo (and fuzzy green slippers).
And then, on Friday--oh, you'll never guess what's happening on Friday! Simon's band is recording an album. This is all very exciting, blah blah can'tsharedetails blah blah twangcakes, but what I will say is that I hope I get an extra special credit in the liner notes acknowledging my true steadfastness as band-aid extraordinnaire and my long-suffering willingness to watch the baby BY MYSELF for TWO WHOLE DAYS on the weekend penultimate to a Major Life Event so Daddy can play country music with his friends. Martyrdom: Who says it has to be a thankless pursuit? (Seriously, though, they're recording an actual album, all originals, many of which Simon wrote, and I would be a fool to ignore the fact that I'm in with a real, live rockstar and that--to be a bit less selfish--my husband-type person is living his dream, the lucky duck.
He's also, by the way, living my dream. Observe. Simon, yesterday: "I need a haircut." Simon, today: "Look at my haircut!" Me, for the last six months: "I need to buy more hats."
Yes, it's going to be a hell of a week (I forgot to say that on Saturday I also have an appointment with a clothing stylist--more on that later--while Beck watches Wombat (thank god I started blogging eight years ago or I'd have no one to babysit my child!)), but if all goes well, by the end of the week I'll have spent some good time with some awesome people, and I just might get that haircut after all, and maybe even work in some time to pee on a blasted peestick.****
*These days I start pretty much everything with "So! [Insert subject here]!" It's a great way to just jump right to the matter at hand, no pussyfooting around. "So! You're babysitting our kid, who just learned to walk for reals! Please apologize to your cats and valuables in advance!" "So! I'm at a cocktail party wearing nothing but an Ergo! Thank god it's a no-host bar!" "So! Your house is full of ants and fleas!" (Oops, I mean my house. MY house is full of ants and fleas. GAH.)
**He made Simon a hand-turkey for Father's Day and one for my (gainfully employed! at last!) brother for his birthday in October.
***Another thing no one tells you about your post-maternity wardrobe: Unless you think hard about it every time you get dressed, your maternity bra will probably show with everything you own. And because you won't be able to think hard about what you're wearing hardly EVER, most of the time you'll never realize your fashion faux pas until your friend emails you photos of yourself flashing your undergarments like a Dutch redlight window-dancer except with whiter, wider bra straps and flap hooks that are more function than form and, oh, also totally unintentionally.
****My Twitterfolk will know that there's been some recent speculation 'round these parts about my...well...my parts. I've been waiting on my period for a small eternity (think Godot), and although "precautions have been taken" and I'm still well within the breastfeeding-causes-irregular-periods safezone, I can't help but FREAK OUT because, jayzus, this is not only the month before my itty-bitty baby turns the big (gigantic, enormous) one, but it's the month after I switched my health insurance from my awesome (and awesomely expensive) plan to my catastrophic-only HSA, which pretty much covers nothing short of being hit by a bus such that everything below my neck would require amputation. I've spent the past week wringing my hands, checking my panties, and trying to push it all to the back of my mind, avoidavoidavoid, even though I know that this--like house fleas and haircuts--is something that won't just go away if I ignore it long enough. Problems like these just tend to get worse rather than better, don't they.
Oh dear. I've peed on 2 sticks over the weekend, frantically trying to remember when my last period was. Uhm. Why can't I remember anything anymore? The telltale signs are there - but like you, I kind of ignored them for a bit, but finally broke down and took the test(s). Of course - the tests don't really do you a whole lot of good if you don't remember when your last cycle was, lol.
But now - now I'm super freaked. You are like my fertility twin. I had a miscarriage 2 weeks after you. I got pregnant (again) 2 weeks after you, and our babies are two weeks apart. Oh dear.
Bill wanted to do a similar bacon turkey thing this year and I poo poo'd it in favor of my citrus and herbes de Provence turkey. Which was fantastic, but I'm intrigued by this bacon turkey.
So! I don't generally advertise this... but I do provide free pee sticks in addition to free Wombat-sitting! Just saying. =)
I'm avoiding the topic on your behalf. Besides, all I can think about is how I'm totally going to put bacon on my Christmas turkey. Aw, YEAH.
I just passed out a little bit on your behalf re: the peestick thing. I kind of keep forgetting that I need to use birth control again. Almost a year of trying to get pregnant + 9 months of pregnancy got me nice & spoiled & lazy about contraception. NOT GOOD.
Whenever you can unite two beasts of the natural world into one delectable dish (read: fowl and swine) magic happens.
And how exciting for Simon! I can't wait to buy a copy and catch a pick he tosses out at his sold-out stadium gig!
Dammit - I meant to congratulate Simon as well, but got all distracted by more peestick-y news. Congrats Simon!
I did the bacon thing too - it's how my Mum cooks her chicken. Worked great.
Breastfeeding made my period stay away for 18 months, and my friend went past 2 years, I think. You're probably fine. Fine and also not pregnant, I mean. But pee on the stick and Take Precautions next time.
And congrats to Simon. How exciting.
What is it with men and haircuts? I haven't had one since before my wedding. SO SINCE FEBRUARY. Meanwhile, my boy is getting his cut on Saturday, just like he does every 2 months or so. YET THEY CAN'T REMEMBER TO DO LAUNDRY ON A SCHEDULE, NOW CAN THEY?
I mostly refused to acknowledge the fact that my period skipped the entirety of October, for my first full-month skippage of my period-having life, and brought my period on with sheer force of will. So I'm pretty sure if you just ignore enough, and mentally will your period's appearance enough, it happens. It's science or something.
What a coincidence! We did the exact same turkey this year. It got too boring doing the same thing years after years, so we're gonna change it next year.
Congratz to Simon, btw.
This is fascinating! How did you learn the subject when you were getting started?
I had a site like this once, but I got so much spam I had to close it. You appear to have a better spam filter! Kudos!
This is getting a bit more subjective, but I much prefer the Zune Marketplace. The interface is colorful, has more flair, and some cool features like 'Mixview' that let you quickly see related albums, songs, or other users related to what you're listening to. Clicking on one of those will center on that item, and another set of "neighbors" will come into view, allowing you to navigate around exploring by similar artists, songs, or users. Speaking of users, the Zune "Social" is also great fun, letting you find others with shared tastes and becoming friends with them. You then can listen to a playlist created based on an amalgamation of what all your friends are listening to, which is also enjoyable. Those concerned with privacy will be relieved to know you can prevent the public from seeing your personal listening habits if you so choose.
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