I am going to start noting these things because I am pretty sure nobody has written THIS book yet. Seriously. I have read five different pregnancy books, and so far, none of them are telling me what I want to know.
Now, I know that I am no exception to the rule. I am not special, out of the ordinary, super-extraordinary, or an anomaly in any way, shape or form. But there are things that nobody tells you about until you complain about them and think there's something wrong with you.
While there have been other lessons throughout the 14 week journey, this is the first one that has really bugged me. Since Sunday, I have been fighting with my allergies and sinuses. My doctor provided me with the list of "approved" pregnancy medications to help combat my symptoms. And for those of you who know me well, you know that I am not much of a pill popper. I avoid pills until I just can't stand it anymore. But Sunday was rough. I took a couple Tylenol before bed in hopes that it would take the edge off and let me sleep. And that worked.
Monday started the sinus headache. And a doozie of a headache at that. Waiting to take the Tylenol until I couldn't stand it, I opted for the Walgreen's brand of Tylenol Sinus Nighttime just before bed. That was a load of malarkey. Yesterday I woke up with a headache that had progressed from "doozie" to "whopper." Holy cow. But I also had a doctor appointment and a ton of stuff to get done. So, I see my OB (sidebar--baby boy Rowland is perfect, growing like a weed and a heartbeat of 152 bpm!!) and she tells me that I likely have a sinus infection and should see my family doctor.
Last night I took the "approved" Benadryl hoping for just a little sleep and maybe for the headache to ease up a little. No dice. Not only did I not sleep, but ever time I rolled over, if any part of my head and/or face touched a cold spot on my pillow, I wanted to cry. No sleep for this momma to be.
So, today I called my primary care physician. After totally messing up my appointment time (my fault, not his), he tells me that what I have is likely viral and not bacterial and because I am pregnant I can't really do anything about it. His advice was to get lots of rest. The pregnancy hormones took over, I began to cry and was a little (okay, a lot) frustrated and blurted out, "how am I supposed to get any rest when this stupid headache is keeping me awake and you are telling me there's nothing I can do about it." (I didn't say the next part but really wanted to) Stupid, stupid man.
His chuckle was almost audible. He handed me a tissue, let me calm down a little, and said, "well, clearly you have lost a little more sleep than you look like you have. Stop at the pharmacy and pick up a new Neti Pot, a box of tissues, a heating pad and some Tylenol PM. If nothing else, we will ease the pain a little and let you get some much needed rest." Now we're talking. He continued to explain to me that because of the increased progesterone in my system, if my body wants to make a little mucus, it will actually make a lot. And because of the extra blood in my body, if I am supposed to have a little headache, it'll be a big one. Seriously? That's not in any of the books I read.
I did as told (although I already have the heating pad) and returned home. Five minutes with a heating pad on my face followed by a rinse with the Neti Pot and I am feeling a little better already. Maybe he wasn't stupid. Maybe he just needed a little lesson in the tendency for pregnant women to be somewhat irrational and capable of emotional collapse at any given moment, and for no apparent reason. Sorry about that, doc.
Just a few minutes ago, I was talking with a good friend of mine who also happens to be a coworker. I told her the story about the headache, the doctor, the reaction and the cure. Her response to me was this: "Sweetie, I could have told you all of that and saved you the $25 copay." Seriously. Always after the fact. From now on, maybe I should just start asking around before I call a doctor.
.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Establishment of the Baby Jar
When you find out you are pregnant, lots of things happen simultaneously. And you learn a lot about your spouse that you never thought to ask. For example, I learned that not only had my husband NEVER changed a diaper, he had never touched a diaper, or even seen one up close for that matter. And all I could think was "holy you-know-what...what have I gotten myself into?"
As it turned out, Chris had read some article about a family who, as soon as they found out they were expecting, purchased diapers every time they went to the grocery store and by the time the baby actually arrived, they didn't have to buy any diapers for a year or something crazy. Chris thought we should give this a try, but while I saw value in the theory, I am somewhat superstitious, believe in Karma and love good juju so to me it seemed like a massive jinx. But I didn't speak up. Instead, I went to the grocery store and bought my first package of diapers. Holy WEIRD! When I got home, Chris asked if he could look at one. I saw this as my opportunity to encourage this behavior and try to make him comfortable with diaper-changing.
I actually convinced my husband that I could teach him to diaper a child that day. Here's how we practiced first:
Not to shabby for the first time EVER touching a diaper. But per Chris' request, he'd like to try on something with legs. I thought for a minute, ran up the stairs and pulled out my Ducky. Ducky was given to me after my first knee surgery in 1992...complete with a leg bandage and all. Ducky's knee healed years ago, but apparently now he needed a diaper:
He did pretty well. I know a child with MOVING legs will be significantly different than Diet Coke and Ducky, but this was a start.
When we were finished with the diapering of miscellaneous objects from around the house, I mentioned to Chris how worried I was about this diaper-buying thing and the bad juju it could bring us. And after thinking for a minute, he agreed. And that's when I told the story of the baby jar.
I am pretty sure this story dates back to 1976. Maybe earlier. I don't know for sure. Only Mom and Dad can confirm that. But when I was a kid, the cupboard near the microwave (just to the right) housed lots of things I don't remember and one thing that I remember vividly...the Baby Jar. It was a gallon-size glass McFarlane Dairy milk jug full of coins. I guess you could call it "spare" change, but it wasn't really spare. It had a purpose. As the legend goes, when the Baby Jar was completely full of coins, Mom and Dad would have enough money to go to the Embers for dinner, sans-kids.
Now, I am sure that money was used for something different when Garren and I were babies. If dinner at the Embers was its original intention, they likely would have found a more fitting name for the jug. So, let's say that when we were babies, it was used for baby stuff.
Well, I love the idea. And knowing that we are going to have bills up to our eyeballs from all the tests, ultrasounds, and let's not forget labor and delivery, we thought we'd upgrade the idea of the Baby Jar from one of coins to one of $20 bills. And since that's harder to conceal, we are keeping it in an envelope in an undisclosed location. Every time we go to King Soopers (our version of Kroger), we are taking $20 out in cash when we pay.
First payment from the Baby Jar: Paint the baby's room. We have just over $200 now, and that ought to cover the project. We will keep contributing as often as possible (or weekly at a minimum) and use the money for the bills that we know are on the way. And when those are finished, it will be used for fancy dinners out (assuming we can find a baby sitter...I hear they are making $20 an hour now. YIKES).
Side note to the Universe, Karma, juju and housing market: PLEASE LET OUR (collective) parents sell their (respective) homes in March or sooner. Please and thank you!!
As it turned out, Chris had read some article about a family who, as soon as they found out they were expecting, purchased diapers every time they went to the grocery store and by the time the baby actually arrived, they didn't have to buy any diapers for a year or something crazy. Chris thought we should give this a try, but while I saw value in the theory, I am somewhat superstitious, believe in Karma and love good juju so to me it seemed like a massive jinx. But I didn't speak up. Instead, I went to the grocery store and bought my first package of diapers. Holy WEIRD! When I got home, Chris asked if he could look at one. I saw this as my opportunity to encourage this behavior and try to make him comfortable with diaper-changing.
I actually convinced my husband that I could teach him to diaper a child that day. Here's how we practiced first:
Not to shabby for the first time EVER touching a diaper. But per Chris' request, he'd like to try on something with legs. I thought for a minute, ran up the stairs and pulled out my Ducky. Ducky was given to me after my first knee surgery in 1992...complete with a leg bandage and all. Ducky's knee healed years ago, but apparently now he needed a diaper:
He did pretty well. I know a child with MOVING legs will be significantly different than Diet Coke and Ducky, but this was a start.
When we were finished with the diapering of miscellaneous objects from around the house, I mentioned to Chris how worried I was about this diaper-buying thing and the bad juju it could bring us. And after thinking for a minute, he agreed. And that's when I told the story of the baby jar.
I am pretty sure this story dates back to 1976. Maybe earlier. I don't know for sure. Only Mom and Dad can confirm that. But when I was a kid, the cupboard near the microwave (just to the right) housed lots of things I don't remember and one thing that I remember vividly...the Baby Jar. It was a gallon-size glass McFarlane Dairy milk jug full of coins. I guess you could call it "spare" change, but it wasn't really spare. It had a purpose. As the legend goes, when the Baby Jar was completely full of coins, Mom and Dad would have enough money to go to the Embers for dinner, sans-kids.
Now, I am sure that money was used for something different when Garren and I were babies. If dinner at the Embers was its original intention, they likely would have found a more fitting name for the jug. So, let's say that when we were babies, it was used for baby stuff.
Well, I love the idea. And knowing that we are going to have bills up to our eyeballs from all the tests, ultrasounds, and let's not forget labor and delivery, we thought we'd upgrade the idea of the Baby Jar from one of coins to one of $20 bills. And since that's harder to conceal, we are keeping it in an envelope in an undisclosed location. Every time we go to King Soopers (our version of Kroger), we are taking $20 out in cash when we pay.
First payment from the Baby Jar: Paint the baby's room. We have just over $200 now, and that ought to cover the project. We will keep contributing as often as possible (or weekly at a minimum) and use the money for the bills that we know are on the way. And when those are finished, it will be used for fancy dinners out (assuming we can find a baby sitter...I hear they are making $20 an hour now. YIKES).
Side note to the Universe, Karma, juju and housing market: PLEASE LET OUR (collective) parents sell their (respective) homes in March or sooner. Please and thank you!!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The silence is broken
Blog topics have been especially difficult for me to come by for the past couple of months. Not because I was out of ideas, but because everything I have been wanting to say needed to be kept secret. Well, no more secrets! I can finally break my silence. And with excitement, say that I will now return to regular blogging, although it's about to take a completely new tone!
On August 8, after a bout of food poisoning and a borderline migraine, I was diagnosed with this:
After a major panic attack and the realization that the migraine and food poisoning were likely not what they seemed, the tears subsided. In complete shock and disbelief, I ran to Walgreens for a second opinion of the diagnosis. I was retested and the diagnosis was confirmed:
OH MY GOSH! I am pregnant! Yep. Pregnant. I had no idea what I was supposed to do next. There's no book for that. No instructions inside the test kit that tell you who you call first, or what you need to do. So, I freaked out, ran downstairs and told Chris. After his panic attack subsided (ok, let's be honest here...his panic attack lasted for 11 more weeks, but more on that later.) I called the doctor who wanted to see me ASAP in that I am 35 and considered "higher risk." As if I needed to hear that!! More freaking out ensued.
On August 15, the diagnosis was confirmed. Yep. Still pregnant! Holy crap! Now what? Well, time to see a real doctor. I had been seeing a nurse practitioner. So, on Tuesday, August 23, I met Dr. Allison. I really liked her. And from her I learned that when a "high risk" woman asks "are these cramps normal?" she will be rushed into an ultrasound. And that's when we saw where our little poppy seed will be taking up residence until approximately April 22, 2012. The munchkin was too small to see on the ultrasound, but we could see the yolk sac (a term which still grosses me out a little).
This was the day before Mom and Dad's anniversary and I couldn't wait one more day to tell them. So, we Skyped. And I am completely disappointed to say that I wasn't quick enough to grab a screenshot of their reaction. Shock. Happiness. Tears. Disbelief. Overwhelming excitement. Utter elation. It was all there! And while I may not have a still photo to capture that moment, I will forever have that memory.
Then we went to Florida over Labor Day for a vacation with Chris' parents. And we got to tell them in person. The reaction from my mother-in-law was just as priceless as my parents' reaction. My always-stoic father-in-law smiled as big as I've seen him smile since the day I met him 6 and a half years ago, and the only thing he could say was, "well, I guess I'll get the 'For Sale' sign out when we get home!" We're still waiting for that, but he's pretty excited too! Rumor has it he's already changed his some of his passwords to reflect his incubating grand baby and pending grandparent-hood.
The stories of how people learned from there forward are pretty funny. And should be a blog of their own. You need to hear the details about my "irresponsible drunkenness" and my grandmother asking "does your mother know?" And the story and photos of the establishment of "The Baby Jar" are equally priceless.
So, here's what I will tell you today. Because I will be 36 when I deliver, my doctor recommended several extra tests, such as the CVS and/or Amnio. The CVS is similar to the amnio but can be done sooner in the pregnancy (10 weeks) and because I am one of the least patient people on the planet, that's the option we chose.
And as of Monday, October 3, I can tell you with 100% certainty that we have a completely healthy (no major chromosomal abnormalities) baby boy that's growing like a weed, and as of Saturday, October 15 (which is also our 5 year wedding anniversary) I will be out of my first trimester. Thank goodness. That morning sickness was ALL DAY LONG and is finally subsiding.
Most of you already know that I am pregnant. But the story is part of the fun of it.
Cheers to the changes to come!
On August 8, after a bout of food poisoning and a borderline migraine, I was diagnosed with this:
 |
| faint second line. Was it really there? |
 |
| lines were not real enough. Can't mistake that word!! |
OH MY GOSH! I am pregnant! Yep. Pregnant. I had no idea what I was supposed to do next. There's no book for that. No instructions inside the test kit that tell you who you call first, or what you need to do. So, I freaked out, ran downstairs and told Chris. After his panic attack subsided (ok, let's be honest here...his panic attack lasted for 11 more weeks, but more on that later.) I called the doctor who wanted to see me ASAP in that I am 35 and considered "higher risk." As if I needed to hear that!! More freaking out ensued.
On August 15, the diagnosis was confirmed. Yep. Still pregnant! Holy crap! Now what? Well, time to see a real doctor. I had been seeing a nurse practitioner. So, on Tuesday, August 23, I met Dr. Allison. I really liked her. And from her I learned that when a "high risk" woman asks "are these cramps normal?" she will be rushed into an ultrasound. And that's when we saw where our little poppy seed will be taking up residence until approximately April 22, 2012. The munchkin was too small to see on the ultrasound, but we could see the yolk sac (a term which still grosses me out a little).
This was the day before Mom and Dad's anniversary and I couldn't wait one more day to tell them. So, we Skyped. And I am completely disappointed to say that I wasn't quick enough to grab a screenshot of their reaction. Shock. Happiness. Tears. Disbelief. Overwhelming excitement. Utter elation. It was all there! And while I may not have a still photo to capture that moment, I will forever have that memory.
Then we went to Florida over Labor Day for a vacation with Chris' parents. And we got to tell them in person. The reaction from my mother-in-law was just as priceless as my parents' reaction. My always-stoic father-in-law smiled as big as I've seen him smile since the day I met him 6 and a half years ago, and the only thing he could say was, "well, I guess I'll get the 'For Sale' sign out when we get home!" We're still waiting for that, but he's pretty excited too! Rumor has it he's already changed his some of his passwords to reflect his incubating grand baby and pending grandparent-hood.
The stories of how people learned from there forward are pretty funny. And should be a blog of their own. You need to hear the details about my "irresponsible drunkenness" and my grandmother asking "does your mother know?" And the story and photos of the establishment of "The Baby Jar" are equally priceless.
So, here's what I will tell you today. Because I will be 36 when I deliver, my doctor recommended several extra tests, such as the CVS and/or Amnio. The CVS is similar to the amnio but can be done sooner in the pregnancy (10 weeks) and because I am one of the least patient people on the planet, that's the option we chose.
And as of Monday, October 3, I can tell you with 100% certainty that we have a completely healthy (no major chromosomal abnormalities) baby boy that's growing like a weed, and as of Saturday, October 15 (which is also our 5 year wedding anniversary) I will be out of my first trimester. Thank goodness. That morning sickness was ALL DAY LONG and is finally subsiding.
Most of you already know that I am pregnant. But the story is part of the fun of it.
Cheers to the changes to come!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
A letter to fruit
Dear Fruit,
I love you. I mean REALLY love you. And not just the you in pies (although, I really love that version of you too!). I have decided that I could probably live on you, fruit, as well as bread, cheese and peanut butter.
Earlier this week I bought a bag of you in the form of clementines. You are perfect and juicy and sweet and easy to peel. Can one really ask for more than that in you? Yep. One can. Seedless.
When your grapes have seeds, I can eat them. They are bitter, but edible. When your clementines have seeds they are bitter and really crunchy and one really shouldn't eat them (I am making that up. Maybe what I mean is that I WON'T eat them). When each of your clementine sections has 2 ginormous seeds, not only do I have to pick them out, but you are totally gypping me on the amount of deliciousness you usually provide.
So, in conclusion, oh loveable fruit. Please ask your packagers to label you appropriately. There's nothing worse than buying you "seedless" only to find out you are full of seeds.
Sincerely,
You R. Whatyoueat
I love you. I mean REALLY love you. And not just the you in pies (although, I really love that version of you too!). I have decided that I could probably live on you, fruit, as well as bread, cheese and peanut butter.
Earlier this week I bought a bag of you in the form of clementines. You are perfect and juicy and sweet and easy to peel. Can one really ask for more than that in you? Yep. One can. Seedless.
When your grapes have seeds, I can eat them. They are bitter, but edible. When your clementines have seeds they are bitter and really crunchy and one really shouldn't eat them (I am making that up. Maybe what I mean is that I WON'T eat them). When each of your clementine sections has 2 ginormous seeds, not only do I have to pick them out, but you are totally gypping me on the amount of deliciousness you usually provide.
So, in conclusion, oh loveable fruit. Please ask your packagers to label you appropriately. There's nothing worse than buying you "seedless" only to find out you are full of seeds.
Sincerely,
You R. Whatyoueat
Monday, September 12, 2011
Recharged
We have been DirecTV subscribers for years now. Sure there have been stints with Cable from time to time, but we always come back to DirecTV. And the remote control is always the same. It's at the point now where I can, without looking down or turning on a light, navigate through the guide, my list of recoded programs, and the movie channels in the dark.
Operating that remote control is no different than any other repetitive chore that I've been doing for years. It's as easy as making the bed, doing my hair and driving a car. It just happens with little thought.
We returned home late Saturday night from our week-long vacation in Florida. Yesterday morning there was laundry and grocery shopping to be done before vegging out in front of the TV for some last minute relaxing before getting back to the daily grind.
It was great to have my familiar remote in my hand as I navigated from channel to channel and caught up on my recorded programs. But my remote was sluggish, I mean REALLY sluggish. I was driving me nuts. Then I realized that while it had a vacation from my hands, it's batteries hadn't been recharged (or in this case replaced) in a very long time. That poor thing was a burned out as I had been.
So, after replacing the batteries I sat back, flipped channels and thought to myself, "I guess we all needed our batteries recharged from time to time."
It's good to be home, but it's even better to have fresh perspective and recharged batteries.
Operating that remote control is no different than any other repetitive chore that I've been doing for years. It's as easy as making the bed, doing my hair and driving a car. It just happens with little thought.
We returned home late Saturday night from our week-long vacation in Florida. Yesterday morning there was laundry and grocery shopping to be done before vegging out in front of the TV for some last minute relaxing before getting back to the daily grind.
It was great to have my familiar remote in my hand as I navigated from channel to channel and caught up on my recorded programs. But my remote was sluggish, I mean REALLY sluggish. I was driving me nuts. Then I realized that while it had a vacation from my hands, it's batteries hadn't been recharged (or in this case replaced) in a very long time. That poor thing was a burned out as I had been.
So, after replacing the batteries I sat back, flipped channels and thought to myself, "I guess we all needed our batteries recharged from time to time."
It's good to be home, but it's even better to have fresh perspective and recharged batteries.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
End of the story
Wow. I haven't blogged in what seems like weeks, and here I am posting 2 in one day!
Today, I am sad to report that our neighbors, witness protection from Jersey and and his Russia spy girlfriend, Anthony and Natasha, are moving out today.
I do not know for certain that Anthony is in the witness protection program, but he is from New Jersey with the thickest NJ accent I've ever heard and he did have to go out of town for a couple weeks not too long ago. And his sisters wouldn't say where he was. It was weird. And I also know for a fact that Natasha is Russian, but I don't know if she's really a spy. But it makes for a great story in my imagination.
Over the past 12 months, we've heard the most amusing things. Like last November when we had a warm day, Anthony got the ladder out and climbed on the roof wearing jeans, a wife beater and a Santa hat. When Natasha asked him what he was doing, his response was, "what do you think I'm doing? I hanging the f-ing Christmas like you told me to." To which Natasha replied in her thick Russian accent, "With a f-ing staple gun." All outside my office window. Funniest work day EVER!
He drives a cliche red Cadillac (early 2000 model) and twice a week he'd pull it out of the garage into the driveway, crank the radio volume on the local classic rock station, and sing along in his Jersey accent as he washed his car. Again, always wearing a wife beater.
It's been hours of endless entertainment right out my office window. And as we've gotten to know them over the past year, they are actually very nice people, with a super sweet son (his name is Christopher!!) and are the kind of neighbors that would do anything to help you in a bind. I am actually sad to see them go.
Anthony said he met the new renters and they are a young couple with a couple of kids. That sounds nice. Far less entertaining, but nice. I wonder what imaginary life I can concoct about the new family? Who wants to help me get started? Maybe I should meet them first before I start the make-believe!
Today, I am sad to report that our neighbors, witness protection from Jersey and and his Russia spy girlfriend, Anthony and Natasha, are moving out today.
I do not know for certain that Anthony is in the witness protection program, but he is from New Jersey with the thickest NJ accent I've ever heard and he did have to go out of town for a couple weeks not too long ago. And his sisters wouldn't say where he was. It was weird. And I also know for a fact that Natasha is Russian, but I don't know if she's really a spy. But it makes for a great story in my imagination.
Over the past 12 months, we've heard the most amusing things. Like last November when we had a warm day, Anthony got the ladder out and climbed on the roof wearing jeans, a wife beater and a Santa hat. When Natasha asked him what he was doing, his response was, "what do you think I'm doing? I hanging the f-ing Christmas like you told me to." To which Natasha replied in her thick Russian accent, "With a f-ing staple gun." All outside my office window. Funniest work day EVER!
He drives a cliche red Cadillac (early 2000 model) and twice a week he'd pull it out of the garage into the driveway, crank the radio volume on the local classic rock station, and sing along in his Jersey accent as he washed his car. Again, always wearing a wife beater.
It's been hours of endless entertainment right out my office window. And as we've gotten to know them over the past year, they are actually very nice people, with a super sweet son (his name is Christopher!!) and are the kind of neighbors that would do anything to help you in a bind. I am actually sad to see them go.
Anthony said he met the new renters and they are a young couple with a couple of kids. That sounds nice. Far less entertaining, but nice. I wonder what imaginary life I can concoct about the new family? Who wants to help me get started? Maybe I should meet them first before I start the make-believe!
Snapping out of it
If an object in motion tends to stay in motion and an object at rest will stay at rest, I am not sure if I am moving or resting.
Work stuff is moving at warp-speed. New clients every week and so much exciting stuff happening. But my house is full of dog hair and we didn't feel like cooking dinner last night. So I was in motion and lazy all at the same time.
I think the answer is that we just need a change of scenery. An opportunity to go unplugged and enjoy one last summer event. For six months, Saturday mornings included long runs which prevented us from exploring the mountains as we typically do to beat the summer heat. You'd think with all that running, I would have my fill of fresh air, but it's not the same. I am ready to feel the wind on my face because it's windy, not because I am running fast. So I guess that means I really want to be an object at rest for a few days.
On Sunday we leave for Islamorada, FL for the week. I think sea breeze and spotty cell phone service is just what we are looking for to refresh our perspectives and renew our energy. And by the time we get home, the forecast is showing that window opening season will have resumed...which will also be a nice change of pace. It's been unusually warm here. We had 21 days in August that were over 90 and 20 in July. I am more ready for sweatshirt weather than I have been in a really long time. Well, since the 6 months we lived in Austin, TX anyway.
So, we are snapping out of this funk ASAP! A week with no dogs and no dog hair. A week of sea breezes and someone else to make the bed. A week of bathing suits and warm water and sand between my toes. It all sounds heavenly. And it's only 3 days away!
Work stuff is moving at warp-speed. New clients every week and so much exciting stuff happening. But my house is full of dog hair and we didn't feel like cooking dinner last night. So I was in motion and lazy all at the same time.
I think the answer is that we just need a change of scenery. An opportunity to go unplugged and enjoy one last summer event. For six months, Saturday mornings included long runs which prevented us from exploring the mountains as we typically do to beat the summer heat. You'd think with all that running, I would have my fill of fresh air, but it's not the same. I am ready to feel the wind on my face because it's windy, not because I am running fast. So I guess that means I really want to be an object at rest for a few days.
On Sunday we leave for Islamorada, FL for the week. I think sea breeze and spotty cell phone service is just what we are looking for to refresh our perspectives and renew our energy. And by the time we get home, the forecast is showing that window opening season will have resumed...which will also be a nice change of pace. It's been unusually warm here. We had 21 days in August that were over 90 and 20 in July. I am more ready for sweatshirt weather than I have been in a really long time. Well, since the 6 months we lived in Austin, TX anyway.
So, we are snapping out of this funk ASAP! A week with no dogs and no dog hair. A week of sea breezes and someone else to make the bed. A week of bathing suits and warm water and sand between my toes. It all sounds heavenly. And it's only 3 days away!
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