Almost 2 months

I heard on the news the other morning that winter is officially half over!  That's all they said, or at least all I heard, so I don't know* if they meant meteorological winter (which runs from December 1 through the end of February) or astronomical winter (which runs from around December 22 to around March 21).  I'm pretty sure they didn't mean Midwest winter, which runs from November, sometimes October, rarely as late as December, until at least the beginning of April but sometimes into May.  

*And I don't feel like doing the math to figure it out.  Since the meteorologist was the one talking about it, my money would be on meteorological winter, but I'm not in a betting mood today.

Nevertheless, it was nice to hear the words "winter" and "over" in the same sentence from voices other than the ones in my head, for a change.  😆

It's hard to believe that we've lived here almost two months already.  It definitely feels more like home every day.  I think we have all the light switches figured out (ha, ha), at least on the main floor!  I was keeping up with unpacking totes at first, but I finally conceded and now there are some totes out in the garage waiting to be unpacked.  Mostly because I haven't decided how to display the ashtray collection yet.  

Yes, we have an ashtray collection.  No, we don't smoke.  Well, we've been known to enjoy the occasional cigar or flavored cigarillo every now and then, although that hasn't even happened for a few years.  I used to smoke in my late teens/early 20's, but quit when I got pregnant with the boy.  No, the ashtray collection doesn't stem from a smoking habit, it stems from an interest in collecting odd, affordable things.  Hence why I want to find a way to display them, not just keep them in totes in the garage.  There are some really cool pieces in there!  I think one of my favorites is the ashtray that was *ahem* once in a pediatrician's office.  It actually has indentations of baby's feet at different ages.  I can just imagine new moms sitting around in the pediatrician's waiting room with their babies, smoking to pass the time, and comparing their baby's feet to the ones on the ashtray, right before ashing in it.

I know I suck at describing things, so I found a picture of a very similar ashtray on the Googles.  This is not the actual one we own, as far as I know, but it could be.  It's not my picture, though.  The ashtray in question looks just like this: 

See? Craziness!!  It was made (or at least distributed by) Similac.  That is NOT meant to be any kind of slam against formula-makers.  I'm not one of those moms.  My baby was a formula baby and a breastfed baby.  I just think it's funny.  Or brilliant.  Similac knew their target audience with this one.

So, yeah.  Two months.  And I'm tired of seeing everything covered in snow.  Although I do have to say, I have been kicking ass at keeping the house clean!  This is generally not one of my strong points.  I used to joke that I was born without the housekeeping gene.  Have I written about this here before? I feel like I have.  Either way, get this: we were out of laundry detergent for a couple of days last week, and the growing pile of dirty clothes spilling out of the hamper and on to the floor around it was actually disturbing me.  I could feel it in my bones, and grating on my last nerve, and I hated it!  I was so relieved when we finally got more detergent so I could catch up on laundry.  This is so unlike me, at least unlike the me I used to be.  If something like that bothered me before, I just ignored it.  WHO AM I!?!?!  I don't know either, but I like me a lot better now that I have in a really, really long time!

Trust me, I've been doing a lot of self-analysis into why that could be.  I have some theories, but nothing I want to share yet.  Especially not right now, considering my break is over and I have to get back to work. 

Toodles!

No changes are permanent, but change is.

 

You know how when you have a newborn, and everyone tells you to cherish those moments because time flies thereafter?  Holy hannah.  I mean, this is certainly NOT the first time I've had this particular epiphany, but there's a milestone tomorrow that I'm having trouble wrapping my little brain around.  

*ahem*

Twenty-four years ago today, I had my very last prenatal appointment. Ever.  I was 38 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I relive this in my mind every year, and I'm not even going to apologize for re(x24)-hashing the story.  People who were never told they wouldn't be able to have children, or people who have never suffered pregnancy losses, or people who don't blog or like to otherwise document their thoughts may not understand (or they might, IDK).  It's my story, and I'll tell it again if I want to, tell it again if I want to, tell it again if I want to...(I'm not stuck on repeat, that's a random song reference. Just to clarify.)

But don't worry, I don't feel like getting super-introspective this year.  I'll just point out that today was the day I had my last appointment, but I didn't think it was my last appointment when it started.  I still remember the surreal feeling when, after spending about 15 minutes trying to relax so they could re-take my blood pressure (I don't recall that it was definitely 15 minutes; I'm going by what I know now that I didn't know then.), my OB (the guy -- I think his name was Scott? I don't remember his last name. Maybe Carlson? There were three different providers at that practice, one man and two women, and I'd seen all three of them but I think I saw him the most...) said all non-chalantly, "Why don't you come to the hospital tomorrow morning and we'll have a baby?"  

I remember trying to argue that the reason my blood pressure was elevated was because my in-laws were visiting from out of state and I was stressed out because of that (no real reason other than I'm an anxiety-riddled introvert and had only been married just over a year at that point; having my in-laws visit now certainly would NOT stress me out!) but he wouldn't hear it.  I was told that my blood pressure was elevated (and, I'm almost sure, questioned for any other signs of pre-eclampsia) and the solution was to be induced the next morning, which would be exactly one week before my actual due date.  

And so signaled the start of the next phase of our lives.  Well, the signals had been there for quite a while, of course.  You could say this particular signal started the day I decided to take a home pregnancy test some months prior after having spent a few days ill miserable with what I had convinced myself was a stress-related ulcer and having it suddenly dawn on me that my period was late.  Or a few days later when a blood test at the doctor confirmed those test results (because I never took just one home pregnancy test; I took several. To get an average).  

I guess one reason I dwell on this day is because it was the last day we were just a couple and not a family.  Re-reading that, it almost sounds selfish, which is not my intent.  Ok, maybe it's a little of my intent, lol.  I know it's the boy's birthday and I have no desire to take away from his celebrations, but it was also the day I physically brought a new life into the world, which is an amazing feat that not everyone gets to experience at all.  We had only been married for 16 months when the boy was born, but we'd been living together for about 2 years by then, and had been dating even longer than that, and some other time I'll write a blog about our history together but suffice it to say that we had spent a significant time of our pre-parenthood late-teenaged and young adult lives together, yet now when I look back it seems like the boy was always there.  Like I can't remember what it was like NOT being his mom.  

Alright, I have to get back to work.  Later, gators!

It's waaaaaaay too early for Cabin Fever.

It's only the first week of January, and I'm already tired of the snow and cold, and ready for spring.  I'm ready for green grass and flowers and fresh air that doesn't freeze my nose hairs.  I'm ready for snow-free roads and I'm ready to have a vehicle that doesn't have any salt on it, or under it.  I'm ready for the sun to stay up later.

Go ahead, laugh. I deserve it.  As you may have gathered by today's title, I know it's much too early to feel this way.  We're barely into the new year, I've got at least 4 months before any of that is happening.  

So, we're getting the house settled pretty well.  Just today, we brought over what I believe is the last of the things we had at the old house.  Our new couch is being delivered this week.  I've been slowly putting the Christmas decorations away (except the lights, I can't take those down yet) and re-decorating for "the rest of the year".  That's one good thing about moving right before Christmas -- you can put Christmas decorations up wherever you want them if you unpack them before everything else!  

Hold the applause.  We still have the two barns' worth of stuff, including the F-mobile, the riding lawn mower, the hubby's woodworking stuff, and my horse stuff that actually survived the flood, as well as the camper and the Big Green Egg and the patio set from the back deck and misc other outdoor decorations and at least two non-running vehicles (3 or 4 if you count the dune buggies, oh wait, there's a dune buggy body in the old cow barn, too...) to bring over.  And two horses.  

I think that's part of what's fueling my fever (whether it's cabin fever or spring fever, which have always been the same thing in my mind but apparently are not): I've been having fun setting up and decorating the inside of our new place, but I want to get the outside set up, too!  I miss having my horses in the backyard.  Our deck is bare (except for the snow all over it) and the cute little patio on the back of the house looks so empty.  I was able to get a couple of things out there before the snow fell, but not much.  

Sigh.

Remember how I was just getting over COVID when my parents both ended up in the hospital and I had to switch my life's focus from me to them for a while?  I feel like I'm picking right back up where I left off on October 31 or so...in other words, run down, tired, and trying to recover.  That's not helped by the fact that I have a crappy head cold right now, but in these new and unprecedented times there is no such thing as "just a cold" anymore, so I'm under quarantine right now until the COVID test I took yesterday comes back.  There's a meme that goes around the nursing groups on FB that says something along the lines of how a voluntary 72-hour hold sounds like a nice, relaxing little get-away, and I can definitely relate to that right now.  Nothing to do but lay in bed and have someone bring me my meals and ask me every hour whether I'm feeling alright.  Can I 72-hour-hold myself at home?  Can I say that I have multiple personalities, and the responsible nurse personality can take care of the personality that needs rest and relaxation for a bit?  

For the first time, I've really been missing those 32-hour workweeks I had when I worked at the hospital.  Working four days and having three days off would be a nice gig to have again!  Not enough to go back to shift work and working holidays and weekends, but...it would be nice.  I've even thought about asking if I can work four 10-hour days instead of five 8-hour days (which are typically not just 8 hours...) but I haven't yet.  IDK if it would even make a difference in the job I'm in now, I think it would just turn into me trying to fit 5 days' worth of work into 4 days.  

Anyway, all this talk about how worn out I feel is making me sleepy.  Go figure.  I'm going to sign off and crochet some mittens or something.  TTFN!!

 

One.

All weekend I've had the song "One is the Loneliest Number" playing in the back of my head.  (Because of something someone said at Bible Study on Saturday morning that made that line come to mind.)  So when I was looking for a pic to go with today's blog entry, I started by Googling images related to that song.  I didn't come up with anything that spoke to me, but thinking of "One is the Loneliest Number" led to me thinking about "One" by Metallica.  And that is what inspired today's pic: the video for "One" by Metallica, which also has clips from the 1979 American anti-war movie called "Johnny Got His Gun," adapted from the 1939 book of the same name.

I've read the book.  I don't think I've seen the movie, though.  I remember finding the book at a flea market in the early 90's, and so I probably paid like 25 cents for it.  Of course, I'd never heard of it until the Metallica video came out, but so what?!  It was a good book.  It is a good book.  

My point? Don't be frightened by today's pic.  We were watching The Twilight Zone all weekend so I'm in a very "insert Twilight Zone theme music" mood. 

And also, get a load of the "PPE" of the medical personnel in the above pic.  I'd presume they are portraying physicians, but I can't say for certain.  The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

ANYWAY...remember last year when the whole "internal monologue" thing was big, or should I say, the acknowledgement of an "internal monologue" was big?  I do, because I never could conclude whether I had one or not.  And mind you, this is based on random tests that were posted on FB, so, highly scientific and reliable.  I remember one that went something like, When you see the word "apple", does an image pop into your head?  And my answer was...no.  It doesn't.  When I see or hear the word "apple", the word "apple" pops into my head.  Not an image but the word itself.  

Maybe I'm confusing "internal monologue" with something else. Something that I can't find the words for right now.  Because I remember other questions along the lines of whether or not a person envisions like an internal movie or something like that when reading.  You know, like if you read the sentence, "The man ate the apple," do you actually picture a man eating an apple?  Because I kind of don't.  I don't know.  I know the words, and I know what they all mean, and I understand them all put together in a sentence like that.  But I don't get a movie playing in my head when I read something.  I mostly just get words.  Maybe that's why my reading retention is horrible at times. 

It's not like I can't get an internal movie going, though.  I just have to either read things really slowly, or re-read them several times to get that effect.  

But, is anyone else distracted by spelling out words in their heads, or is it just me?  I've been this way for as long as I can remember.  I'll involuntarily pick out a certain word from something I've seen or heard, and ruminate on that word.  It's like my mind is playing with it and won't let it go.  Spell it forward, spell it backward, put all the letters in alphabetical order, count the number of letters and if it comes to an odd number, add letters to it to make it an even number.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  

So! I get to have my first COVID test of the year tomorrow morning.  All weekend I've been feeling kinda crappy, with a headache and a sore throat and achy body and such.  But then, it got super cold out and I've been doing things I don't normally do, as well.  (Get your mind out of the gutter; I'm talking about painting the bathroom.  Which involved more standing on ladders and stretching into odd positions than I remembered from the last time I painted a room.)  Plus, it's winter.  Who doesn't get a cold in the winter?!  It's only a matter of time.  But now, thanks to COVID, there's no such thing as "probably just a cold" anymore.  

Oh, well.

On that note, I'm going to sign off.  If I have COVID again, I'm going to...IDK...I want to say I'll be mad, but I don't know who I'd be mad at.  Cry is probably a better answer.  Yes: if I get another positive COVID test tomorrow, I will most certainly cry.  

That is all.

HNY!

Mandatory year-in-review post, dead ahead!

😉😁😀😄

Just kidding.  If you want to know what happened to me this year (which probably no one does), you can just go back and read my previous blog entries.  There were lots of good things and lots of bad things challenges.  

If you want to know what's happening to me right now, you're in the right place!  I'm in a good place right now.  Not emotionally, I'm just in my favorite chair with my dog.  ha! ha!  Alright, alright.  I kid.  I'm in a good place emotionally, too.  Except that my throat hurts like hell and I've had a headache for the last 3 days, and I'm sore and achy and as soon as I finish this I think I'm going to go to bed even though it's only 7:15pm right now.  I already had COVID so hopefully it's not that again.  

Despite feeling like crap, I got the first coat of new paint on the guest bathroom today.  And the hubby got the master bathroom painted.  Tomorrow I'll hopefully get the second coat on and then I can put it back together.  

I really don't have much else to say right now.  I'm gonna sign off and go to bed.  Just wanted to get my First Post of the New Year out of the way. 

TTFN!