I’m catching on Mad Men. Season 3. Of course it’s the baby episode. Bitch can’t catch a break. I should go back to reality TV.
Why did anyone keep having babies in the 1960s? Good God, it looks terrible.
I dreamt that someone called me baby killer. No period yet. Isn’t this fun?
Went walking in the snow today. It was strangely energizing. My whole body is tired.
Not much else to say about that.
Did I mention the banana cupcakes I made? I’m strangely intrigued by the mexicorn recipe on the same blog. Mexicorn? Mexicorn.
Other than nesting and working, we’re watching a lot of terrible TV in this house. Right now, I’m being forced to watch American Idol. It wasn’t good, Dawg. It was really, really bad. A million percent yes! Seriously, I hate this show. Ooh, don’t tell E that I used the word hate. I had to outlaw it in our home, unless you’re discussing Hitler or Dick Cheney or something.
Anyway, thankfully there is more to TV than American Idol. I just have to say that my favorite Real Housewife of Orange County this season is Alexis Bellino. I love Alexis, and her boring, unattractive husband who ranks juuuuust under Jesus Christ in Alexis’s mind. If I were Mr. Alexis, I wouldn’t let her travel alone or try on lingerie on TV either! There must be something about Mr. Alexis.
I am also loving Celebrity Rehab. Especially Shelly. I love her hair and her geek chic glasses, but I especially love the look on her face when celebrities speak. It doesn’t matter who speaks or what they are saying. The “bitch please” expression on her face is always the same.
Now we’re closing out our night with Gordon Ramsey and Flamangoes Restaurant in New Jersey.
E was sick last week. At four am, he woke me up and needed more medicine and water. I started to think about what I would do if anything ever happened to him. I would just lie down and die. That would be it.
I mean, part of me feels like, my God, how amazing is it that there are any healthy children in this world. How does that happen?
Last week I had my follow up doctor’s appointment. It went well actually. Trisomy 18 is very rare, and while there is a type that can be passed genetically, that’s even more rare. I believe they are testing the fetal tissue to confirm that it is not that type. Anyway, he felt strongly that lightening doesn’t strike twice and that we should just try dinner and a movie. Weird, ’cause I thought sex had to be involved. Ba dum dum!
The doctor told me to make a preconception appointment with my regular OB in a few months. For some reason I bristled at the suggestion of a pre-conception appointment. I was in the happy go lucky pregnancy club! That was me! That was us! But I got kicked out. Now I’m someone who talks about trying with what seems like the whole world. Well, I’m 35. Life carries on. What can you do? That’s the least of our worries, of course. We just want everything to go well next time.
In the meantime, weirdly, I’m nesting. This morning I made apple pancakes. Last week I made apple cider slow-cooked pork shoulder with carmelized onions, and apple bread pudding (yes, we do have a lot of apples). I’m going to make banana cupcakes with E later today.
It’s snowing outside. Cleaning, cooking, rinse and repeat.
