weapons of massdistraction

Some good news. Our Quad Screen blood test results came back NORMAL. What a relief. Now we just have to get through Friday’s appointment, with a genetic counselor, and the Level II Ultrasound, and then it will be safe to be super excited (well, I’m already super excited, but still). Last night the little man put his arms around my belly and announced “I’m hugging my baby brother.” He is not only adjusting to the notion, he seems to be excited too.

In other news…what the Hellboy? I’m a long-time Mignola fan, but I had no idea about the upcoming Hellboy animated series, until I saw Joe’s excellent post on the subject. I’m cautiously optimistic (after having been burned by the live action movie). I pointed this out to a friend who is also a Hellboy fan. He liked the character design, but thought the backgrounds looked a little too Disney. I’d have to agree. We’ll see.

Friday night is The Clientele’s show at the 400 Bar. I feel like I *should* go, because I’ll be going to even fewer shows after the baby’s arrival, but at this point I can’t imagine a) staying up that late or b) standing for so long. We’ll see.

Compassionate Action for Animals is having a Turkey-free Thanksgiving vegetarian potluck this Saturday, at the U of M. We’re hosting our own vegan Thanksgiving potluck this year, but hey, the baby needs all the Tofurky it can get, right?

My back is killing me. I desperately need a lumbar support pillow to use when I’m at work. Isn’t that exciting? I did have a nice one, when I was pregnant with the little man. And I know I hung on to it. But, considering my lack of organizational skills, it will probably turn up when the new baby is, oh, two or so. Oh well.

Word of the day: SNOW! Like Matt, I’ll have to go out later and take some photos of objects obscured by snow, while the snow is still pristine and white. It’s not so pretty after being blackened by car exhaust.

Several weeks ago we went to dinner at our favorite restaurant, where they know us well, and one of the owners looked up at me and said “ah, you’re having another baby?” Flustered and feeling a little churlish I mumbled “no, just getting fat” or something along those lines. Turns out Frank was right and I was wrong. I finally went to the doctor the other day, thinking I was dying or something. I’ve been pregnant before, obviously. But over these last few months a series of events and misadventures misled me, and caused me to be a bit disconnected from my body. First there were the home pregnancy tests. Not one, but two negative test results. Then there was the bleeding, irregular though it was, but my cycles have always been irregular. And sure, there was all that puking, but I chalked it up to the migraine meds I was taking. In hindsight, duh! The drowsiness and fatigue are a tossup. Topamax, aka, Dopamax does cause drowsiness. The hand and foot tingling, and mouth tasting like tinfoil all the time are definitely side effects of the drug (which I have since stopped taking, and the headaches seem no better but no worse so far). Bottom line, these last several months I have felt extremely unwell. So unwell that I was expecting unhappy news at my exam. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the doc had found tumors, or, at the very least fibroids. We were both more than a little surprised when we heard a heartbeat instead. This is so much better than dying. I’m creating life! Again. The rest of the day was a blur. Rushing to get an ultrasound scheduled, and lab work done. I was able to go home and fetch an equally astonished husband. We were both apprehensive before the ultrasound started. When we were actively trying to get pregnant again (with no luck) I was taking my pre-natal vitamins and prescription folic acid religiously, to prevent what happened last time. We were quite relieved, then, when I asked the ultrasound technician about the baby’s skull and she indicated that yes, it seemed fine. She also let us know just how far along I am. Twenty weeks. A little eerie, in that it’s how far along I was when we lost the last baby, and around the same time of year too. And damn, that’s halfway there. I feel like I’ve been asleep at the wheel. I should have been taking my vitamins more regularly. I could have been taking folic acid. I shouldn’t have been taking those damned migraine meds. So much to kick myself for. At least I do eat fairly well, and I don’t drink alcohol, well, ever, and I’ve drastically reduced my coffee intake over these last couple of months (another sign, duh). Now there’s so much to plan for, and think about, in even less time. VBAC or c-section? Which hospital? How’s the little man going to handle this? The poor kid had wanted a sister, but it looks like I’m bringing another boy into the world. Still, I think he’s going to be an awesome big brother.

Now I’ve waited too long and I have far too much to say. I hate when that happens. The roundup, wherein I am sure to leave something out:

• The husband has made his triumphant return. Well, ok, I don’t know about triumphant, but he’s home. And it’s nice to have him home. I’d like to say we went a full 24 hours without annoying each other, but we only managed to not annoy each other until the morning after, but for us, that’s still pretty good.
• Receptionista made it to her destination, safe and sound. And only dropped $100 or so in Vegas along the way (on fairly essential items, at that).
• Sometimes people suck.
• Sometimes people are impulsive. I sort of replaced my powerbook, while the husband was gone…without consulting him. But it will look so lovely in the “it’s not easy being green” corduroy foofbag, when it arrives from Australia (and I finally ordered the fire engine red foofpod for my iPod mini).
• Remember the great closet purge of ‘05, the one that the husband forced upon me a few weekends ago? It really was for my own good after all. And that’s now my favorite room in the house.
• Over the weekend I wrote a bit on writing. I’ll post that piece tomorrow.

By coincidence, I happened to be commenting on this photo on flickr when the husband was on an airplane, flying home with the below toy for the little man. Funny, no?

It’s only Tuesday and my nerves are shot and we are ready for the husband to come home. Actually, the little man was asking for him the night before last. We’re both feeling a bit under the weather, and more than a little cranky. Last night I sat on the couch in the living room, chilled, wearing my car coat (as Grandma Viv called them) and wrapped in a blanket, dreading the arrival of yet more trick-or-treaters, on Halloween, my favorite of all holidays! But wanting them to come on and get it over with so I could unload the ridiculous amount of candy I’d purchased (I’ve never been able to get the formula right either). But they started coming too damned early. I’d left work early yet wasn’t even set up with jack-o-lanterns glowing or candy bowl positioned near the front door. By 5:40 we’d had over 30 kids come calling. Then we didn’t have any for another half hour or so. Or maybe we did. I was attempting to get dinner ready, while also listening for the door, but none of the kids seemed to notice that we have a doorbell and I caught some knocking delicately on the door, oh so softly, with their be-gloved little hands. The intervals were unpredictable between rugrats, but I tried to be somewhat productive with these gaps. Thought I’d do some NaNoWriMo prep, for one thing. The husband mentioned he’d found the power adapter for my trusty old laptop last week and had plugged it in. I figured it would be fully charged. It wasn’t. In fact, it is D-E-A-D. The little green light blinks, and the startup chime chimes, but then it makes this sad little whine like a car whose engine wants to turn over but can’t quite. Great thing to find out on NaNoWriMo eve. I could have cried if I hadn’t been so tired. The little man, on the other hand, was over-excited. He’d whoop it up each time a costumed crew came by. And those kids came in bunches, for some reason, though often they didn’t seem to actually know one another. After the fact I figured out that my boy had been sneaking candy nearly every time I was doling it out so he was riding the waves of a sugar high. No wonder that by 7:30 he was laid up with one of the worst bellyaches he’s ever had. And I was exhausted, by illness, and a marathon weekend of staying up past my own bedtime, and, in my old age, that blasted daylight savings time transition always throws me off. So Halloween be damned, I blew out the candles in our jack-o-lanterns earlier than usual, turned out all our lights, and we turned in for the night, before 8pm. And more than once, while drifting off, I heard a much louder thump thump thump of the bigger kids banging on my door. All I could think was nevermore.
Bonus: A sliver of sunshine amid the bleak…at long last, Buffy the Vampire Slayer - The Chosen Collection. Yes, seasons 1-7: finally being released in one box set on November 15th. Why I didn’t know about this sooner, I have no idea. And naturally I missed out on the pre-order special when it was going for $129.99 on Amazon. Now it’s up to $169.99. But still, I’m drooling.

Where are the brakes? I am, oddly enough, not ready for today to be Friday. Tonight is the local NaNoWriMo kickoff event.
Tomorrow morning the husband flies out to Palo Alto, for a week on business, with at least one trip to Maggie Mudd planned.
Sunday the little man and I are hosting a pumpkin carving party and potluck.
Monday is Halloween.
And Tuesday, ack, sees the start of National Novel Writing Month itself.
I am already feeling woefully ill-prepared and as though I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, as usual. And that the husband should be gone during the first week of Nano, when my novel will be in its infancy, well, talk about triumph over adversity if I actually make it to the finish line this year. Last night the little man crawled into bed with us, turned around the wrong way, and kicked me in the chin for about an hour, keeping me awake around this time. Tonight I have no excuse…so maybe this will become my daily writing hour during Nano. Sigh.

Bonus: Receptionista’s hitting the road, jack. Best wishes on the journey to her new home.
Plus: Zak Sally has quit Low. Umm, again. I think it’s for real this time. But the show must go on. Tickets are on sale for their special holiday show in the main room, on December 9th.
And: The below photo is of one of the little man’s teeny tiny old shoes, that is really much smaller than it looks, that was found at the back of my closet during what will be forever known as The Great Purge of ‘05.