This is just to say
Drawing lines, part 1

The other day I did an amazing thing. I walked by a perennially cluttered counter, noticed a roll of ribbon that was sitting there and I (are you ready for this?) TOOK IT DOWNSTAIRS. And put it in the drawer where it belongs. This may not SOUND amazing to you, but the fact is that the ribbon has been sitting there since Max's birthday.

In August.

So for two months I've been walking past that stupid ribbon, shuffling past it in a hollow-eyed stupor, wishing I were asleep and that food would die. But last week I passed a magical 16-weeks-pregnant line, and the cloud of misery and nausea was gently blown away by a benevolent wind. And lo, life was good again.

Now, at 17 weeks, I find myself able to do all sorts of things - not only tote ribbon downstairs, but carry on conversations, think thoughts all the way through near to their end, go an entire day without a nap, and even (glory be) eat food. Clay gets up in the mornings and fries himself two eggs and when he comes back into the bedroom on a fried-egg scented breeze, I don't even wish for death. Instead, I think, hmm eggs. That smells good.

But there is a dark side to the return of Eaty Kira, because the return of the appetite does not necessarily mean that good sense and reason came with it, as evidenced by the following conversation that I just had with my long-suffering husband.

"Uh oh." I just let it hang there in the air, begging a response, even though he KNEW what was coming next. Poor man. He is simply compelled to walk right into it.

"What's wrong?"

"I want something." To his credit, if this caused him to sigh heavily, he did so unobtrusively.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know." Pause. "What would taste good with cream cheese?"

"Um...a bagel?"


"Oh. Sorry."

Long pause.

"Banana bread. Cream cheese on banana bread."

"I just had some banana bread. With butter."

"This is SO not about you."

Lather, rinse, repeat. Seven thousand times a day. I want SOMETHING, and I'm not happy because I don't have it, but I'm not sure what it is. And my very lucky husband gets to hear me try to figure it out. All. The. Time.

For the record, toasted banana bread worked as a cream cheese delivery system, but a butter knife was even better.



I'm so glad you're feeling better!


See, now, I was thinking that when it's time to send something for the baby, I would send something for YOU as well. But now I'm beginning to understand that truly, I should be sending something for Clay. Like maybe a Porsche. ;)


A burger and fries at Red Robin with Kristy? Or the chicken tacos at Chili's...with Kristy? Oooooorrr, a big fat juicy steak at Outback a burrito from chipotle or the all you can eat salad bar at jason's deli?

With Kristy?


Am I at least close?


See, I am impressed that the roll of ribbon has *only* been there since August.

No idea what you want to eat, but good luck figuring it out. Mango?


Hey! You won the diet book from my ridiculous blog! Let me know your address and such.

I think your banana bread days are over. So are your cream cheese days.


See. Now. At least you have the pregnant thing going for you.

Around my house? We have that conversation all the time. Usually, it's the S2BX who can't figure out what he wants. And there's always that elusive "something good" that never shows up.

And cream cheese... yes, a knife is the best delivery system. Because it's just a touch less unseemly than picking up cubes of cream cheese with your bare fingers.


Found you via June @ Bye bye pie - she said the diet book was won by Kira, and for a second there I thought WOOHOO! But then I realized I'd never commented on her blog before and she therefor doesn't even know I exist.

However. Since my (our) name is so rare, it is my personal duty to blogstalk anyone with my (our) name. This, I am your newly faithful blogstalker. ;)

Congrats on the baby, and the diet book too! Lol.


Amy put the ribbon away but now you are forgetting to blog. Sigh. Some of us like your blog as much as a knifeful of cream cheese.

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