Cue the goats

I don’t dream often; usually I go right into deep sleep, since I never get enough. But when I do dream, it is pretty entertaining. Take my last one:

Playboy calls me and says they are doing a “spread” (nudge, nudge, wink, wink) on the “everyday” woman, and they want me to be a part of it. The dream did not address how they got my number, or the fact that I never answer my phone if I don’t know the number, but anyway… So, I talk to my husband, and he’s all “Yeah, my woman’s going to be in Playboy!” , and it’s all set. We go to the shoot, and they slather makeup on my body, and while they’re doing it, I’m not self conscious at all about being naked, but then I look down. And realize that I forgot to shave. Not my legs. And it is this huge, 70’s era porn bush that looks as if a shitzu is sitting on my lap.

I’m all like ‘Oh my God, I forgot to shave!”, Yeah, for like ten years, apparently. So, I’m trying to be all non chalant and giving my husband the “Hey, come here” head movement, and I whisper to him the situation. At which he looks down (why he wouldn’t have looked before I have no idea) and has a reaction exactly the same as if he’d seen a lion gnawing on my leg. I excuse myself to the restroom, and go through the drawers and find a razor. The size of a postage stamp.

Luckily, I woke up after that. I’m not sure what would’ve happened, as it would’ve taken a herd of goats a week to get through that.

What a really nice weekend. And very busy, but I felt so satisfied on Sunday night. I hate those weekends when you end up rushing around trying to get things done on Sunday night, like coming up on a deadline for a term paper that you’ve put off until the last minute. And even though I hadn’t ironed clothes for work, or put our clothes away, or completed a multitude of other tasks, I still felt very…contented, I guess you would say.

We had a great 1st birthday party, our child could officially start his own eBay toy store. And it seems that most of them talk or sing to him, which he loves. I wish we loved it as much! It was fun watching him dig into the cake. He didn’t like it very much, which prompted my husband to ask for a DNA test, post haste. We both love sugar so much that I’ve contemplated building a shrine to it in our bedroom. Made entirely out of sugar cubes and gum drops. Sort of like the house in Hansel and Gretel. But without the oven baked children, thank you very much (how did that not freak me out when I was a kid? I don’t remember even being particularly scared by it)

Because of the proliferation of electronic voices in our house, we decided to go low tech and get him a sandbox and an outdoor swing. Both of which will be big hits, I’m sure.

In other news, I moved the horse to a closer place, which is stressful for me and him. The barn where I keep my tack is completely empty, and it is so strange, the only feeling I can compare it to is this: once, when a bored and reckless teenager, a group of us broke into the school one night during summer. It was very eery… a place that is usually so full of noise and commotion was entirely and perfectly still and quiet. It was very unnerving. As was the custodian who busted us. Oops.

A barn is usually very noisy, horses stomping, whinnying, snorting, etc. And in the main barn, that is exactly how it is. But in this one, it is full of the Scooby Doo haunted theme park vibe. Very silent. Lots of empty stalls where many, many horses spent a good bit of their lives, back in the day. There is a room with a hot walker in it, and if that thing starts going on its own one day, God help me. I’m going to store away a Bible and crucifix, just in case. And make sure that I'm with a cuter, scantily clad girl. They always bite it first.

But aside from that, it is a very nice place, with lots of great hayfields and pasture to ride in, wide open, which I really like. And they have a huge arena, which will be great for working on my riding and getting Charlie back in shape. And it is ten minutes away, compared to the hour I was driving. I was gone a total of 1 hr 40 minutes yesterday, had time to unload my tack, groom him and ride and then drive home. Compared to the three and a half to four hours it used to take me. I found myself trying to drive really fast to get home, and I had to stop myself, to remember that it was only a ten minute drive. And I literally felt a weight come off of my shoulders. It is amazing how you can get so used to carrying around a 25 pound ball of lead and not even know it.

Here’s to shedding all of those weights I’m unwittingly carrying around. And hoping I don't replace them with doughnuts. Or, more likely, birthday cake.

A Year Ago Today

A year ago today, I went to my appointment, where they stripped my membranes and said if something didn’t happen by the end of the week (this was on a Monday), they would start to consider inducing. When she said this, I actually teared up. I wanted to have this baby already! This was my due date, after all. They did the non stress test, due to blood pressure issues, and something made them check with an ultrasound, to see amniotic fluid levels. The nurse said it looked like I was going to get my wish – and ten minutes later the nurse practitioner was telling me to check in at the hospital, and the doctor’s name, and Mike was frantically calling the kennel to see if they had space for the dogs, and realizing that I STILL hadn’t finished packing my bag (even though he had nagged me about it for weeks), and wow, and ohmygod, and wow and this is the last time we’ll ride in this car alone for a long, long time, ohmygod, call my boss to say I’m having a baby today, ohmygod, wow.
Checked in, got into my pimped out suite, changed into my gown, and Mike went to take the dogs to the kennel, finish packing my bag, call everyone to say ohmygod we’re having a baby, ohmygod, and worrying that somehow I was going to have the baby during the two hours he was gone. I remember lying there, thinking, let’s get this show on the road! They gave me a iv of fluids, which kind of sucked because I wasn’t able to walk around when the pains really started up. They did it so I’d be hydrated for the Pitocin. But guess what? I didn’t need the Pitocin. They inserted misoprostol, the contactions came, and boy! Were they close together, and STRONG! Fast forward to csection, and hearing our boy cry for the first time. It is unbelievable that a year has gone by. Our lives are completely and totally different. I thought I would miss our old life more, and there are times when it is hard to want to do something for yourself, but something with him at the same time, but we love being his parents. We love his little melon head, the vision of the top of it floating by as he crawls around the den, usually carrying a toy in one hand, and headed for the next place to pull up and cruise. I love seeing him first thing the morning, standing up in his sleepsack, all sleepy eyed, and his face bursts into a smile upon seeing me. I love watching him in the bath, splashing, and trying to grab the water in his hand and drink it. I love hearing him say “hey” to the cat and dog, and his mangled pronounciation of the words “kitty” and “doggie”. I love that no matter how hard I’ll try to get him to say “MaMa”, he’ll look me right in the eye and say “Daddy”. Most of all I love that fact he exists. Our lives are so much better for it. Our lives have more joy, more worry and more meaning now. I love him honestly more than I could have even imagined. What a year! And I hope we have many, many more.

Worth It All

We are struggling. Money is so tight right now, we actually gathered up change last night to deposit into our checking account. Luckily, there was quite a bit of change, but what if there hadn’t been? We are so tired of living paycheck to paycheck. It wasn’t always like this, and it is hard sometimes to remember “back when”. But jobs changed, salaries changed, and our debts stayed the same. Much of our drive behind moving back here was that the cost of living was so much lower, it would be easier to get back on our feet. We have gotten up almost to our knees a couple of times, only to be beaten back down. We have come to the realization that M has to find a job. And there are no jobs in his field to be had here in this small town.

I’ve got three more months until my obligation to my employer is finished, and then I’m free to move if need be. And I think we’ll have to. I really am not thrilled at the thought, but I’m not sure what else to do. Literally, we are down to our last bit of money. We were supposed to start daycare on the 11th, and we don’t have enough for that even, so we have to put it off. This current crunch is because a commission check that M should’ve had a week ago still isn’t here, and it doesn’t look like it will be here for a while. But even without that circumstance, we are still living very precariously. And we are both tired of it. So, if we have to live somewhere not so great for a while until we can actually get on our feet again, so be it. I just hope we can get there before it is too late.

S turns one a week from tomorrow, and I can’t believe it. One! After all we’ve been through, I don’t regret one second of it. It was all worth it. Every time I look at that little boy’s face, my heart grows two sizes. I mean it. As mushy as it is, he really does make it all worthwhile. And when I look at his face, I know that the struggles we face right now will get better. And it will all be worth it.