Holidays Interrupted on Account of Reproductive Activity

This makes Thanksgiving numero dos (my first grade teacher, Mrs. Whitbeck, said all her numbers in Spanish; talk about a progressive woman for 1982!) that was slightly curtailed thanks to child-bearing. Last year it was full-on labor, this year? Full-on nausea. I'm one of those people that you could call "lucky." I've heard people say that nausea in the first trimester is a sign that the child is developing properly. This is the kind of information that is doled out when people don't know what else to say. It's like when someone dies and people tell you trite things like, "God must've needed them up in heaven." Or you lose a job and people say, "Well, there's probably something better for you out there." Or you get dumped and people say, "I never liked that person anyway."

So, I feel like chewed up bits of turkey and stuffing that has been regurgitated and left out on the counter overnight to dry. But at least the baby is healthy.

I had Jamie around for four days to bring relief to the daily duties around here. And now he's at work. Before 7:15 this morning Stella got into my yogurt and got it all over the floor. Lovely. Other than feeling ill this morning (although not too bad) I felt scared that I was going to be left as the one in charge for the whole day.

Thankfully, Ms. Martha Lee Kelly is going to come over and help me do some laundry. This should spiffy things up around here. I can barely stand the smell of the grout on the tile or the top of Stella's sweet little head (when the smell of your own children is revolting, you know you've got problems) much less clean my nasty kitchen. I don't even like to think about throwing something into the garbage can. Now I must go find out when Jamie's Christmas break starts.