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So. I am awake. Considering the night I had, that is saying quite a bit.
I went to bed with a headache that I’d been having for a day and a half. I blame the Boy Scouts. See, I got myself a nice little caffeine addiction back when a nice, cold glass of Coca Cola was the perfect thing to ease my pregnancy nausea. If I was drinking Coke, you knew I was nauseated. And since I was nauseated all day, every day until late May, well…you get the point.
So now I need 2 glasses of Coke a day or I’ll get a headache. I don’t get normal headaches, either. I get these not-quite-migraine things that are cured by a dose of Extra Strength Excedrin plus one Coke. Even in my normal, not pregnant and addicted to caffeine state, if I get a headache, it’s that combination of aspirin, aceteminaphin, and caffeine that works. But I can’t have aspirin while pregnant, so I try to tough out the pain and have 2 Cokes a day. Purely preventative, of course.
But on Sunday, the moms of Boo’s Boy Scout Troop had a little get together of wine and appetizers. The only things offered to drink were water and booze, so I drank water. We’ve got really good tasting water here, right out of the tap, so I wasn’t suffering. Yet. But by the time I got home, it was much to late for me to be drinking caffeine, even though I could already feel the headache creeping up.
The next day I tried to shake my headache. I took a 2 hour nap. I drank my soda. I kept otherwise well hydrated with cool and tasty mountain water. By the end of the day I was hurting. I went to bed, hoping I’d be better by morning.
I slept like a rock until 3:00 am. Then I was awake and my head still hurt. Plus I had a stuffy nose.
My nose has been giving me a hard time for about 3 weeks, when we had built in bookshelves installed. Which you don’t know about, because I haven’t mentioned it yet. I think the sawdust bothered my nose, which made me feel like I was right on the edge of a sneeze all day. Then it started to hurt. It hurt so badly that I actually googled “my nose hurts on the inside.” The general wisdom was to swab it with vaseline, which I have to admit helps a lot. But my nose still seems to go from hurting, to congested as it tries to lubricate itself, to normal and back again.
Last night it was in its super-congested/hurty phase.
So I lay there, wide awake, head pounding, nose congested, mouth open trying to breathe. I got up and walked around, trying to “reset” myself. That attracted the cats to my room. I propped myself up, hoping a change of position would clear my nose. Nope. I avoided looking at the clock. I thought about Anne Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey. I tried not think about what it was like to know you were about to have your head lopped off.
I got up to blow my nose, which caused the cats to follow me into the bathroom as my personal escorts. One cat rubbed my legs while I swabbed my nose in the dark. The other explored the plants around the bathtub.
I went back to bed. The cat in the bathtub managed to get behind the bathroom door and close it, trapping herself inside. I watched the two cats paw at each other under the door. This amused me for about 15 minutes, then I got up to liberate the poor cat.
I lay there some more, now having contractions. My midwife assures me that with a 5th pregnancy, my uterus is quite crabby and contractions are normal, especially in these final months. (I think the actual term she used was “irritable uterus”, not “crabby”.) They were painless, but annoying nonetheless. Like someone grabbing hold of your arm and squeezing.
Finally, the sun rose. I heard the 6:30 schoolbus stop, just as I was getting drowsy. I didn’t hear the 7:30 bus, or Phil’s alarm go off, or him get up. I did feel him kiss my cheek and I told him I hadn’t slept. He told me he’d tell the children to be quiet so I could sleep now.
I heard my clock radio turn on, then off again 5 minutes later. (It really turned itself off an hour later.) I didn’t hear the 8:30 school bus. I woke up at 9:45 and realized I’d been asleep!!! then the next thing I knew it was 10:15.
My head still hurt.
I gave in to the Extra Strength Tylenol, got some breakfast, poured myself a Coke and went back to bed.
It’s now 12:30 and I am awake. And some days, that’s as good as it gets.
Pumpkin Girl has Nutcracker auditions tomorrow. She’s a little nervous even though this year she’ll know 2 or 3 other girls with the same audition time. One of her fellow sheep from last year’s production is in one of her ballet classes. I heard them discussing which parts they hope to get, who is going to be there and wondering if their cartwheels are good enough to land them the gingersnap roles.
Actually, the whole studio was abuzz with Nutcracker speculations. The auditions are city-wide, not just for our studio, so it’s anybody’s guess as to who will be cast as what. Most of the younger girls (Pumpkin’s age) will be cast somewhere, it’s the advanced classes that really have to worry. Still, it puts one on edge, no matter what your age and skill.
In addition to the natural nervousness that auditions bring, the traveling ballet company is different this year than in years past. That means different costumes, different roles, different ways of casting the children. There may not even be any gingersnaps this year, or they may be taken from the pool of children that are slightly older than Pumpkin. Or maybe the gingersnaps won’t need to do cartwheels.
I’m trying to be a good ballet mom. I’m trying to emphasize that the most important thing is to have fun. Go to the audition, pay attention, smile, dance and have fun. Whatever part you get, it’s a chance to dance on stage with professional dancers, a live philharmonic orchestra and in front of thousands of people. No matter how long her ballet career is, she will always have this experience to look back on and remember.
(Ask me how I feel in a few years when she’s old enough to compete for the role of Clara! )
So off we’ll go tomorrow, me swinging a bag with knitting, her swinging a bag with ballet shoes, both with visions of sugar plum fairies dancing in our heads.
I hope we have fun.
The hotter it gets, the less I blog. The less I blog, the more I knit. Feet propped up, cold water within reach, watching HGTV and knitting. Could be worse. I’m kind of addicted to “Holmes on Homes.” (What’s up with all the shady Canadian contractors, eh?)
Philip may be getting annoyed with Mike Holmes and his proper way of doing things because it’s costing him time and money. We’re having built-in bookshelves put in our music room. Nine foot beauties that run from one wall to another. The thing is, they will permanently and forever cover up a heating vent on the floor and will cause an electronic thing to be removed from a corner of the room.
After countless episodes of Mike telling me how things should be done, I was insistent on finding out if we could just close the vent or if it needed to be rerouted or something. So I made Phil leave messages for our HVAC guy to find out the deal.
Do you have “guys”? Now that we own a home, we have guys. HVAC guys, landscape guys, hardscape guys, a wood guy, a drywall guy and now a cabinet guy. I’m planning on sticking their business cards in a binder labeled “Guys”.
Reminds me of when Bip was a baby and we had this shadow box thing of mini Korean theater masks hanging in the hallway. We passed by it every time we went into the bedroom. He liked them a lot and when he started talking, he’d point at them and say, “Heh! Guys!”
What was I saying? Oh yeah, the HVAC guy.
So Kevin, the HVAC guy informed us that the easiest and cheapest solution to the soon to be unusable floor vent was to have the cabinet guy just cover it with a piece of sheet metal. This would be fine and not cause the shelves to heat up and burst into flame, or need to be torn down at a time in the not too distant future to get at the vent and close it off properly.
Then there’s this electronic thingy mounted into the corner of the room. The corner which will soon be covered by the bookshelves, of course. Phil has dismantled it so now it is just a couple of wires hanging down, attached to a tiny little computer looking panel. He says he can just cut the wires, tape the ends, shove them into the hole in the wall and call it a day. And you know, it’s not that I don’t trust him, but yeah, I don’t trust him. Why does the Talking Heads song “Burning Down the House” keep running through my head?
So I’m making him at the very least, call a handyman and have him come over and advise.
He’ll probably cut the wires, tape the ends and shove them back into the hole.
So, my whole entire point of this blog post is that it’s been rather hot, so I’ve been propping up my feet, watching HGTV, filling my head with construction horror stories and knitting. Knitting funny hats for our new baby, to be exact.
Did I tell you we’re having a boy?
Well, arriving as he will, at the end of October, he’ll need a pumpkin hat. I’ve actually made 2 of them this summer, a newborn size and a toddler size for our friend Sam in DC. Here they both are, with Bip’s big-boy pumpkin hat for scale.
And since we live in Colorado, he’ll need some sort of hat for the first 8 months of his life, so I made him a Sweet Pea hat.
And a funny stocking cap for Christmas time, so he’ll look like a right jolly ol’ elf. My model here is Amy, our Bitty Baby. The hat still needs a ginormous pompom at the end to pull off the look.
So, in review: heat, Holmes, guys!, hats. Questions?