Happy Birthday Rufus!

Yep, we have a tax cat. He's two years old today. Jason suggested we celebrate his birthday by all (except Rufus) going out to eat at a tasty Pizza Buffet place we had a good coupon for. I agreed. I'm sure Rufus enjoyed the peace and quiet we afforded him by bringing Rudy along. :)

This evening Rudy and I sang him "Happy Birthday" while we ceremoniously placed the same old cat food in his bowl for dinner. That's about as fancy as we get for pet birthdays. :)

Thanks for being a rockin' cat Rufus. Here's to many more years with you. :)

Keeping Watch

It's 10:13 pm. I'm getting up at 5:15 am tomorrow. And I'm 9 weeks pregnant and need more sleep than my toddler to function. WHAT AM I DOING???

I'm blogging. And keeping watch over my little home and family. Today is the first day since I sent Ty home that I miss him.

Within the last week, the homes on either side of me have been visited by some mysterious intruder. Someone who just leaves the front door wide open and doesn't take anything of any significance from the home. (One of my neighbors was missing the roll of TP that she had on her dispenser in her bathroom.) Strange. Eery. Unwelcome. Hopefully nothing more than some dumb kid, but still.

One incident happened last Friday, the other happened today. Both in the middle of the day.

I just found out about all this around 4 so this afternoon, when I decided to listen to my messages and got one from Jason at work wanting to make sure we were ok 'cause our neighbor had stopped him on his way to work to tell him about the intruder. I didn't worry too much until I realized that we had left the back door unlocked for the 3 hours we had been out earlier that day, and I hadn't been in the basement since.

I had to go down there to fetch something about 2 hours later, and totally announced myself and my intentions to my empty (hopefully) basement, just so if someone was hiding down there, they could successful remain hidden and not feel any reason to change from flight to fight strategies. That's when I realized I needed to do something so I could sleep tonight. So I called my big brother. He came on over and checked through my whole house-all the nooks and crannies until I felt sure no one was going to come slithering out of some closet as soon as the house was quiet. But still. It's creepy. I get creeped out super easily, and the fact that Jason had a nightmare like 2 nights ago that he came home from work to find a serial killer had slaughtered Rudy and I does NOT help me be any braver.

So, here I am, waiting for my husband to get off the late shift and take his place as protector in the home. Meanwhile, I'll just keep watch, and hope I don't see anything.

Fun, and Not So Fun

9 Weeks Pregnant

Jason and I got to see our little Peanut kicking and waving her newly formed limbs today. And watch her little heart beating. Everything looked good to the doctor. He said I have a beautiful little baby growing in my belly, doing everything a baby that age should be doing. Sigh. It feels good to have that reassurance. I left the doctor's office feeling so blessed that things are going so smoothly this time around.

The not so fun part of the day? Dealing with the effects of this smooth going pregnancy on the rest of my life. I wouldn't call myself necessarily nauseous just yet, but I definitely lack appetite. And I lack energy. Oh MAN do I lack energy. Like I spent the better part of the day sitting either on the couch or on one of our front room chairs. I served Rice Krispies for dinner around 5:30. Rudy pecked at his. About 6:30, he asked me to make our go to meal, Greisschmann. (An Austrian dish consisting of cream of wheat, eggs, milk, and a little salt all scrambled up in a frying pan.) I put him off and put him off, thinking I'd make the thing only to have him take two bites and be done. Finally I acquiesced to his request, feeling a bit lame for trying to pass Rice Krispies as dinner. I, of course, had no desire to eat, and couldn't imagine that anyone else in the world could want to put one more morsel in their mouths. My poor little man--he ate almost the whole batch of Greisschmann-a batch that usually feeds both of us comfortably. I'm gonna have to figure out how to get myself to fix decent meals for the family, even when food seems so cumbersome to me. Funny, once I start eating, I generally over-eat, like my body's unsure of the next time I'll be convinced to feed myself, and is trying to take advantage of the moment. Sigh. I did munch some pickles as Rudy gobbled his Greisschmann. A little cliche maybe, but I didn't care. Pickles felt good to eat. Maybe I needed the electrolytes.

I'm going to bed now. Maybe tomorrow morning I'll feel up to cleaning up the grand mess that Rudy and I created while attempting to do as little as possible.

I'll try to think of nurturing my little Peanut as the great and important task I accomplished, because otherwise, I'd be hard pressed to list anything more significant than showering myself. I did fix pancakes for breakfast...and keep Rudy from any great risk of injury....maybe I'll count those too.

Craving Fulfilled

Sigh. If you could look inside me right now, you'd find one happy, satisfied pregnant lady. That, and some scrumptious lobster pizza.

Last Sunday night, it hit: a giant craving for seafood generally and lobster pizza specifically. This was one of those crazy strong cravings, where you can almost taste it, and you can't hardly think of anything else. I think I actually lost 1/2 hour of sleep over this craving that night. Ridiculous, I know, but oh so strong.

The worst part about the whole thing was the fact that I knew my craving was absolutely and completely unsatisfiable. We'd already spent our meager going out to eat budget for the month (we spent it last month, in fact.), and even if we hadn't it would have never covered an outing to Red Lobster, home of the best (and only) lobster pizza I've ever laid taste buds on. Sigh. There was nothing to do but mildly pout in an entitled pregnant lady way. I was actually trying to convince Jason that we need to expand our eating out budget for this terribly trying 1st trimester, so I could feel free to be as fickle as I pleased about cooking or not cooking.

Even with all that poor behavior on my part, the Heavens still chose to shine down on me. (Or maybe they were shining down on Jason, who had patiently and persistently been putting up with me through all my mini must have lobster pizza tantrums.)

Today, I got a phone call from Jason at work, informing me that he had been awarded a $25 gift certificate to none other than RED LOBSTER for being a nice guy. He is a very nice guy, indeed. I'm glad his co-workers appreciate him, and I'm especially glad whomever was assigned to pick up gift cards chose to stop by Red Lobster for a card or two.

Long story short, Jason, Rudy, and I dined on Heritage tonight, and boy did we dine! We had lobster pizza, lobster nachos, and a chocolate chip lava cookie thing for dessert. And tons of those never ending biscuits. Sigh. I'm feeling great! I can't believe I actually got to go to Red Lobster and satisfy my unsatisfiable craving. Lets just hope its not insatiable, too. :)

Maybe it seems lame to be so stoked about food, but I say, if you can't take pleasure in the little stuff, the big stuff will never satisfy either.

Grateful For Jason

The last couple days, I've been feeling especially enamored with my rockin' husband.

I think most everyone knows that marriage can be all sorts of things. Fun, exciting, hard, boring, stressful, heaven-sent, heartbreaking, healing....

Jason is just such an awesome companion through it all. He's the kind of husband I would wish upon every bride.

Yesterday, I had one of those hit you in the face, knock you off your feet, first trimester of pregnancy fatigue attacks. I was SO tired. Jason scooped the kids up (I was babysitting) got them dressed for the outdoors, and played with them. Then, when I was telling him how I was in one of those quick sand kind of naps where you really want to get up but you just can't seem to do it, he put on some fun music, had Rudy lead me in some calistenics exercises, and did crazy dance moves while jumping through the 'landing' between the hallway and the kitchen. (So I just got these hiliarious glimpes of his body in all sorts of contorted forms flying through the air.)

It got me laughing so much I cried, partly 'cause of the laughing, and partly because I was just so grateful to have a husband that I can also call my best friend. I know that's the way its supposed to be, but sometimes it doesn't stay that way for everyone. Husbands and wives morph from friends into associates or co-workers somewhere through the years and kids and craziness of running a household and building a career. We've slipped into that trap ourselves a few times through our little 5 year marriage. I'm so glad Jason is in tune enough and invested enough to work with me to consistently fight that slippery slope and keep our relationship more than business, more than "of course I love you, you're my WIFE/HUSBAND."

Jason- you're the coolest. I love being around you. I hope you can interpret that from my exhausted attempts to cuddle into you (or even just touch my foot to yours) when you join me in bed after a late shift at work. I promise the first trimester really is only 3 months long and not an eternity. Sooner than later, I'll be dancing with you again. I love you, schmoopie. Thanks for all you do to bless my life.

Camping indoors

This round of croup, we opted to do home care stuff instead of shooting Rudy up with 'roids for the 4th time in 5 months. (As cool as the movie, Rudy, is, I did NOT name my son after the main character, neither do I wish his height-or lack thereof-to mirror Rudy the football player's.)

So. It was a high maintanance several days and nights. The second night, we decided to try a new suggestion: instead of waiting for strider to hit at 3 am and then rushing Rudy out to the chilly air for a half hour to open his airways again, why not just bring the cold air in, and avoid the whole thing?

So we dragged our mattress into Rudy's room (we didn't want him to get the idea that sickness equals a ticket to come sleep with Mom and Dad in our room), opened the window, closed the vent and door, and snuggled in for the night. The fact that our neighbor was doing a yard waste burn just added to the simulated camping experience. We smelled 'campfire', breathed fresh air, felt the chill of cool air on our noses and snuggled in for the night.

And then we discovered just how lucky we are that we opted out of the 'co-sleeping' trend that so many parents our age are going for. Sigh. Rudy slept amazingly. Not a bit of labored breathing, hardly even a cough. But boy can that boy move. He wriggled, he flailed, he full on flopped around. It was...shall we say...less than desirable. The next night was the same. We thanked heaven that by the third night, his croup was under control enough not to necessitate the all night cool air.

For all you co-sleepers out there...good for you, but I remain absolutely convinced that it is NOT for me. (Except when I'm trying to keep my kiddo's air way open without freezing him to death in the process.)

Blending In

Jason was feeling really 'at one' with the house the other day after donning some old school cover-alls from a friendly freecycler to do some putzing. Like he and the house were finally in the same era. I must be in love, because even in these ridiculous coveralls, I think he looks great. I'm so proud to call him my man. :)

Oh-and a funny story about these coveralls....

Rudy and I were chatting with Dr. Freestone as he wrapped up his assessment of Rudy's croup when Jason (who had come to pick us up) sauntered into the tiny room. He was wearing these, looked a bit grungy, and smelled pungently of gasoline. (He'd been working on an old, filthy lawn mower). The doctor did a little double take and sort of backed toward the door like he was going to call for back up or something, until I explained that this wild man was my husband. I tried very hard (and almost completely successfully) not to laugh audibly at the doctor's repulsed face.