House call

News of Friday's first prenatal visit has apparently circulated though the crew, even though I never explicitly stated what sort of appointment it was. Knowledge of my pregnancy has also spread, though, and since most of the guys have kids they were able to reach the logical conclusion. They also like sharing their expertise on the subject, knowing that this is my first time.

"So, Miss Thang, you doing alright?"
"Not too poorly."
"Any morning sickness"
"No"
"Eating well? Getting enough calories?"
"Yup."
"Well, there you go. You no longer need to go to the doctor's office."
"What about the blood test?"
"That's it, I'm out."

The danger in letting other people do your laundry

I was driving in to work this morning, when I noticed this odd smell. What is that? Soap? It followed me all the way inside my office, before I finally realized what it was. While over at R's parent's house last night, R's mom had washed our jackets, as out washing machine has been broken since we moved in. Normally I use unscented laundry detergent, as I've had reactions before. Her laundry detergent apparently was the fragranced variety, as I could smell myself all day. It was awful.

In which I slyly slip news into other news

As if I didn't have enough trouble keeping this blog updated, I'm thinking of starting another. I've been wanting to post pictures of my lunches, but I don't think this is quite the place for it, so I'm going to make a separate blog just for that. Lunch is pretty much the highlight of my days lately. I've got work, unpacking, and lunch. Oh, and I'm pregnant. I suppose that is pretty exciting, actually, though at the moment it is just boobs and pimples and ravenous hunger. Which probably explains the intensified obsession with lunch.

We went on a tour of a local birth center last night, to see if I want to wrangle my insurance into letting me go there. All the other ladies on the tour were so much more pregnant than me, which made me feel slightly out of place. Really, I'm just on top of things. We walked by a recovery room in the maternity ward where I could see tiny arms and legs sticking out of a blanket, at which point in time I had one of those moments where you really feel what is actually going on. Whoa. We're going to have one of those in a few months. It still feels a bit academic and surreal.

...and we're back

It is amazing how much the lack of internet feels like losing a limb. There is this part of your life that you normally take for granted, but without which you feel totally off balance. Maybe it's just me. We wound up having to go almost an extra week, due to stupidity on the part of or cable company. They wound up switching our service from fiber to dsl without telling us, but then the phone lines at our new place were having issues. It wound up being faster for us to switch to cable, rather than wait for them to figure out what the problem was with the dsl.

The new place is really starting to feel like home. The transition happened pretty fast, with the exception of today, when I had a brief relapse. Last night, we tried the washing machine for the first time, only to find out that the thing has a serious leak. Many towels (and a bucket downstairs) later, I started to freak out a bit about our decision to move here. This place is defective. What have we gotten ourselves into? The sentiment was enhanced by the numerous small defects that one notices only after moving in. All the blinds are damaged in some way, the garage door locks of its own accord (locking us out with no keys the second night we moved here), the oven smells of gas when turned on. The landlady responded to my e-mail for repairs quickly, though, so I think this place will work out.

Withdrawal

Soaking up one last bit of internet before breaking down the office for the move. Service won't be up at our new place until Monday (apparently some people only work during normal business hours), so I'll be out of contact with the world all weekend.

Packing has moved into high gear these last few days. It is amazing the amount of stuff you can remove before the place stops feeling like home. Apparently the curtains were a big part of my mental image of the rooms, as the whole place seems empty now that the miniblinds are laid bare.

There are definitely some things I'll miss about this place: the luxurious kitchen, the garden, not sharing walls. One thing I will not miss, however, is the neighbor's dog. When encountered in front of the house, it is nice enough, but it has some territorial issues about the back yard. It apparently considers everything within eye shot part of its back yard, and since the neighbor's house doesn't have a back fence, that includes my backyard and rear rooms of my house. When it sees me, even if I'm inside, it barks, and barks, and barks. Ignoring it doesn't work. Instead, I have to go challenge it until it retreats to its actual yard. I'm sure it will think it has won, but it will be wrong.

... That was clearly the exhaustion talking. Back to packing.

Empty nest

Our roommate moved out yesterday, and suddenly the house feels too big. If you were to look though the house, ignoring the two rooms he occupied, you would hardly be able to tell the difference, but the house feels different anyway.