Stray thoughts

Earlier this week I was informed that one makes quesadillas by taking cheese, rolling it with a rolling pin, and then putting in the toaster. Three is such fun.

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I called up the sewing machine repair guy yesterday when I was at home, and he said to bring it in. So I did, and we went through threading the machine and he got it to pick up the bobbin thread ... and we seemed to think that I was holding the thread to the wrong side. Which seemed weird when it hadn't mattered before, but perhaps I hadn't been paying attention. And then it stopped picking up, and he determined that the alignment is off. So I am still without sewing machine. Sigh.

There are only two more rows to go!

How ironic that I thought it was a GOOD idea to get it all tuned up.

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My parents are trying to get here from the island today. There was a fire on one of the ferries yesterday, and so they've cancelled sailings and halted reservations. As of this morning at 8:30, there was a two sailing wait. They are in for a very very very long day. I hope they have some good car games.

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"when you have apple juice, you pour it on the raft and then the horse slides off."

Are three year olds a little bit insane?

Quandary

I grew up in the house where anger does not live. Which is to say -- outright expressions of anger and calling people on inappropriate behaviour just does not exist. (Unless you're the mom and you're talking to a little kid. Not as adults.) Oh, it's ok to be snarky and mean, that's just fine, but telling someone calmly and rationally that that comment / action on their part was hurtful is simply never done.

We are a tad dysfunctional.

I also grew up in a house with a sister who I don't remember liking, or her liking me, for a single moment. I remember existing near her, I remember cooperating with her, but we have never been friends. We are in our mid-late thirties now, and we are still not friends. It has evolved to the point that when I have good news, or I'm in a crisis, or just want to talk to someone, it never even occurs to me to call her. She's not even on my radar. I have always wished to have a better relationship with my sister, but the fact is that I want a better relationship with a different woman, a woman she will never be (and just to be clear -- I'm not expecting she'll change. She is who she is, and there's nothing wrong with the person she is. It's just that my personality and her personality are not meant to be friends), and trying to be friends with a woman I simply don't see eye to eye with is a difficult struggle. It's hard to make my peace with it some days, but in the end I've learned to make friends with women and consider them my sisters instead of counting on my own sister.

Two days ago, I was on the phone with my parents and told them to good news. They said the usual things, but then my mother started in on my sister -- how I need to call her and tell her, and I'd better (almost threateningly) tell her before this weekend (Thanksgiving, for any of you who aren't Canadian, otherwise known as what used to be a pleasant family time, now fraught with tension).

And I just passed it by.

But then I emailed her a picture of my wee belly, and instead of emailing me back a few nice words, all she did was tell me I needed to tell my sister. Again.

Internet ... I'm hurt. I'm really thrilled about this pregnancy, and it wasn't totally easy to achieve, so I'm really excited about this. And selfishly, perhaps, I want this thing to be about me. I don't mind that she reiterated that I should tell me to tell my sister, I'm just hurt that she couldn't say one. single. nice. thing about the pregnancy. A "we're so thrilled!" or "You must be so happy!" or even a short "congratulations again!" or something.

I've been making a lot of personal changes over the last year, and there's part of me that just wants to end this bullsh*t that my family lives in of not calling each other on behaviour and comments. I think in the end if I could get people on board, it might make us a nicer, closer family. And so I want to write back and tell her that it might be overly sensitive, it might be selfish, but I'm really, really hurt that she didn't take a second to say something nice.

But I'm terrified. I've never done this with my mother. Or my sister, or father, for that matter. With any of them. And I'm not sure I want to deal with the fall out.

I'm not sure what I think the fall out will be. I mean, she's my mother, I don't think she's going to disown me or never speak to me again. But she might be hurt, and she might tell me so, and then I'll feel awful and never want to say anything ever again. (See: dysfunctional family, fear of saying the wrong thing, terrible in an argument, and related.)

So! Please tell me: What would YOU do??

Oh, honestly

When will health practitioners learn that getting your underling to call patients -- especially patients who are pregnant -- and telling them that "we got the results of your tests and need to see you" is NOT OKAY when said person is dealing with a BABY??! Especially since then said person is not allowed to say ANYTHING ELSE, like, how about "the baby is fine, this is just about the next ultrasound and who is ordering it and there is nothing wrong."

Luckily I have a nice doctor who did in fact take time from her day to call me, after I told the receptionist that I was "freaking out" because "it's a BABY!" and she resolved the issue. And no, there is nothing wrong with the baby that we know of. But please! You honestly think I would have waited for three days to find out what the issue was?? DO YOU NOT KNOW ME AT ALL?

Oh, and I got the "please be careful with the swine flu" talk as well, which is frankly the one reason I was a little concerned with being pregnant this winter. I am lucky in that I have a job that can involve very little contact with people, and can be done from home, so I can isolate myself that way, but I have a partner who uses public transport, and a child in DAYCARE, so my hopes of total isolation are really laughable. I was all set to get vaccinated (normally I don't bother with flu shots, preferring to use my own immunity, but this year, with the baby, and the possible complications, and the possible seriousness of this meaning a bed shortage ... didn't seem worth it) until I heard that they are using thimerosal in the vaccines. Now I don't know about you, but if I'm going to expose my unborn baby's brain to unnecessary mercury, it's darn well going to be through one of my favourite tuna sushi rolls so I can ENJOY lowering my kids IQ; I'm damn well not doing it for a shot in the arm. (I'M SO KIDDING!!!!) What I mean to say -- if the darn thing is going to poison my baby, I'm really undecided on the "possible hospitalizing complications" vs "baby poisoning" issue.

Anyway, I did at least learn that there will be a mercury-free version available for pregnant ladies. So there's your public-service announcement for the day.

Sunday quilt

I'd like this to be a post about the quilt, and it is, in a way. It's a post about how, over the past several weeks I have been too preoccupied / tired / nauseous to sew, so I haven't been sewing, but this morning, I got out the machine (despite feeling terribly tired and nauseous) and wanted to sew, and ...

it won't work. The bobbin won't wind properly, but I got it wound. And then despite the fact that I have it threaded properly, it won't pick up the bobbin thread. No matter what I do. It looks pretty, but it works less well than before I got it fixed.

I am angry and disappointed. I've emailed the repair guy, who says to call him, but finding a time to call him when I can concentrate, without a three year old either clamouring for attention or being noisy? Ha ha ha.

Dammit.

And while I'm on the subject ...

There's no way I'm going to be able to hide this for three or four more weeks.

It's hard to tell, of course, since my stomach is about the same colour as the wall. But that's a belly that's hard to miss, let me tell you. I am certain that someone will guess before the trimester is up.

I'm also certain that by the end of this -- should I be so lucky -- I'll be unrecognizably huge.

Four limb buds, a twitch and a flicker

Nine weeks.

There's not much to see in a nine week ultrasound: a fetus-shaped blob that moved on its own, had a flickering heartbeat, measured on calculation, and was growing some limbs. It's only nine weeks, so we're not entirely in the clear, but it's looking more and more likely that come next May, we'll have another person in this teeny tiny home.

And I am just. so. tired.

The tiredness is making it kind of hard to be terribly excited. Trying to keep up with work and a three year old and a home, and you know, growing a whole new human, means there's just not much energy left over for excitement.

But I am. I am very, very hopeful, very glad, and very very grateful for being so lucky.

It's a baby. A real baby, and it's ours, and it's looking healthy and hale and in seven more months, we'll very likely have a beautiful new addition to our family.

yay. :)

Yep, momma's just made of money, son

Today, in the car on the way to work and daycare:

Me: Guess what! It's already October! And fall! And next month is Daddy's birthday!

The Boy: We can sing happy birthday and have a cake!

Me: Yes, we can! And a present!

TB: Yeah! We can buy it from the present store!

Me: What do you think we should buy for daddy at the present store?

TB: A CAR!!

I laugh. Yes, Daddy would love a car, I say, but cars are expensive. What else can we get for daddy?

TB: thinks

TB: A BIG TIRE!!

Me: What on earth would daddy do with a big tire??

TB, in his best three-going-on-thirteen voice: Put it on his CAR, mom.