Thursday, June 22, 2006

Countdown: 10

10 weeks till the strange alien that kicks me from the inside packs his bags and moves onto greener pastures, where he can kick us from the outside instead. I think I’ll encourage at least nine months of him kicking Steve before he gets his little body parts anywhere near my bladder, or any other part of me again. Don’t get me wrong, most of the time the kicking and the fluttering in my belly is a very enjoyable sensation, one which I take great pleasure in…in the middle of the day, in the middle of the night, whenever it happens. But sometimes it feels like the little monkey has embedded his heel or an elbow deep into my kidneys and is just grinding away. Sometimes it feels like someone slipped him something pointy when I wasn’t looking, and he’s busy fighting off intruders, or practicing samurai sword moves with said pointy object.

People keep asking me if we’ve started on the baby’s room. The answer is a big old N-O. Right now everything baby that we own is in a chest, which is under a very large pile of Steve Lucas Design…various models, papers, binders, miscellaneous pieces of balsa wood and other Very Important Things. If a GI Joe ever came to life like they do in Toy Story, they would have a heyday in here right now – there are ¼” and ½” scale models strewn all over the main floor. They could put on more shows with complete sets than a GI Joe could ever dream of. If any of those GI Joes weren’t satisfied with a life of killing and armying and whatever else it is that little green guys in fatigues do, this would be the perfect opportunity for them to “explore their creative side.” As long as they didn’t cause an avalanche – we’ve had 2 small ones of those in the past 2 days…stuff just toppling or sliding over because it’s piled so high. The second time it happened I was on the bed studying, with the dog lying at my feet. A sliding noise, followed by a fairly loud crashing noise (which would normally cause dog pandemonium) barley elicited a reaction from Dudley. He looked up at me as if to say “I should get used to this, shouldn’t I?” and promptly returned to his nap. Even the dog has accepted living in drywall chaos.

Speaking of Drywall chaos, the basement is almost primed! Like with paint! Too bad Steve is off for a while doing Tech things in Blyth, otherwise we may even finish priming it! My greatest hope and prayer is that next week I will continue the painting legacy that Steve started, and soon be able to start returning this place to a state of normal, sometime before our child starts asking to borrow the car. It could very well happen. Meanwhile, I remain wallowing in the disaster that is currently our living/dining room, while Steve is off working somewhere far away from all this. If it wasn’t for needing to pay the damn mortgage, he could just stay here and work. Such is life.

The sky outside that was looking ominous moments ago seems to be changing colour, frighteningly resembling the very green wheat field just below it. At least I have a basement to take cover in.

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