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November/December
2004
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| Thursday,
December 23, 2004 -
Yes, you heard it right, foks. I am officially on maternity leave until the Elizacritter is born. I went in for my appointment on Tuesday, and my doctor grounded me for having hypertension. That means all the water weight and bloating, and the high blood pressure have gotten to the point where my doc isn't going to put up with my failing bodily antics anymore. I have been put on bed rest and must stay there until E-Beth makes an appearance. Just to note: We did a bunch of non-stress tests and ultrasounds to check on E-Beth's progress, and she is doing GREAT. *I* am the one who isn't keeping up her end of the bargain!! It's a complete body-betrayal thing! Geesh! As punishment, my doctor gave me a big, red jug to pee in for 24 hours. Joy of joys. It's very hard to juggle a 32-week belly out of the line of vision and aim for the 2-inch wide hole in the big, red pee-jug. In fact, when aiming, you can't really see it, because the Elizabelly is in the way. You get the picture . . . Note: I am gonna ask if I can keep the red pee jug. I figure that when E-Beth is 16 years old and screaming "I HATE YOU" at me because I won't let her date a 34-year old punk rocker, I'm gonna pull out the red pee-jug and tell her "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WENT THROUGH TO HAVE YOU!" and then I'm gonna make her wear the pee jug around her neck as punishment for being ungrateful. That big red pee-jug tied around her neck should scare away ALL of the 34-year old Johnny-Punks, wouldn't ya say? ;-) For my final medical punishment, I got to have 40 gallons of blood drawn from my arm today for liver death tests (or something like that). Anyway - I am not going to whine about the things I'm missing out on - I'm actually celebrating the many wonderful things happening in my life. I've got a healthy baby due anytime between now and Febraury 15th - and that's the MOST important thing! I've got an AWESOME husband who pampers me and tells me I'm gorgeous every single day. I've got an AWESOME family, AWESOME friends, AWESOME neighbors and overall, an AWESOME life. And now I get to sit back and take it easy. So, don't cry for me, Argentina! Life is fan-freakin-tastic in Heatherland. :-) I'm just feeling bad for all the rest of the folks in my life. I hate inconveniencing people. I hate not being able to take rush orders, or turning folks away who have immediate deadlines (I'll be back to work around March), I hate letting people down, and I hate that I am putting so much weight on the Briguy's shoulders. He's been wonderful though - between defrosting frozen pipes, painting, priming, grocery shopping, dog-playing, channel changing and keeping the damn cookies out of my reach, he's an absolute GOD. And he's gonna make a darn good Daddy, too. ;-) At any rate - this might be the last post for a while. I'm supposed to stay in bed as much as possible, although, I'll be answering emails once a day or so, if I can. In the meantime, have a WONDERFUL holiday and I'll update as soon as possible! More pics:
Peace, till next |
| Tuesday,
December 21, 2004 -
A holiday song, from Skye, the dog: my favritt thingz pee-drops
on rozez and eddibbul kittenz drinking
from toylits and barking at poodulz dryd
up old poopeez and ichy red rashez when
the dog byts (it wasn't me!) Peace, till next |
Thursday, December 16, 2004 - My new motto Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!" Last night we took a tour of the birthing center and walked past the nursery. Three babies were nestled in their little clear plastic baby buckets. One was getting a bath, screaming herself purple. Literally. I didn't know babies turn purple when they scream. I also didn't know babies could scream so loud. Hmmm. I asked Brian if he knew that babies screamed like that, and what he thought about it. "I think it's going to be beautiful!" he said all romantic and smiley and crazy-delusional. I'll ask him again four months from now and see if his answer is till the same. <grinning madly> I'll ask him at, ohhhh, maybe three am, after he's been awake for 9 days straight consoling a psychotic post-partum-ish wife with chronic breast pain, and hungry baby who won't latch. I asked Brian a few nights ago how much he weighed when he was born. "Ohhh, I think it was something like 13 pounds." I choked on the piece of cardboard I was chewing on (the only thing I'm allowed to eat anymore). He laughed and said he was joking. <aside> Ha. Ha. Ha. Here's a little website recommendation for y'all - Sign up and you can receive free money for college for a special child in your life. It's a gig called Upromise and you can visit the website here: Upromise Here's how it works: Upromise is a free service designed to help families save for college. It's simple: you'll save when you shop for the things you need. With Upromise, thousands of companies will help you save for your child's college education. You can save when you shop online, at your favorite stores, or at the grocery or drug store. You can save when you travel, dine out, and more. Start saving today! You sign up, choose a child recipient (or designate yourself - and you can change it later), register your credit cards, gas cards and grocery cards, and every time you use them, you get FREE MONEY! Even if you don't have children yet, it's a great way to start saving for a college fund. If you wind up never having children, you can give the money to a niece, nephew, grandchild, friend - anyone! That's about it at the Piper homestead. Nothing new has happened since my last journal entry, so I'll sign off here. Have a GREAT weekend! Peace, till next |
Tuesday, December 14, 2004 - Cwrapping it up. Last night I was allowed off "house arrest" to make a very careful and quick drive to the local grocery store to buy wrapping paper, tape, labels and bows so I could wrap my holiday gifties. Note: Grocery stores have the crappiest wrapping papers on Earth. (Cwrapping Paper) They do not have labels, so I had to improvise. I bought a package of white mailing labels and a few packages of smiley face stickers. The bows were bagged basics - thirty-gazillion for a buck fifty. Martha Stewart would have frowned at my mismatched cwrapping paper kit. I like to wrap presents on the floor. I can spread all the papers and presents out and make a big mess. The whole process of peeling stickers, cutting, taping and labeling the packages puts me right into the holiday spirit and my mood soars like a Christmas star. Sick? Maybe. This year I've got a bit of a mobility problem, so I carefully arranged the paper, tape, labels, stickers, bows and pens all within 8-month-pregnancy-belly reach, and prepared myself to plop. Once I landed, I wasn't going to be able to get up again for a good, long while, so I had to make sure I had EVERYTHING I needed. I landed on the floor with a hearty BOOM and scared the whiskers off the cat. She jetted off to hide in the litter box. Once I realized that bending at the waist wasn't an option, I figured out how to manipulate the cwrapping paper rolls and cut them without bending at all. I was pretty proud. I cut. I folded. I taped. I stickered and labeled. I bowed. I admired. With one package cwrapped and looking not too horrific, I patted myself on the back and gave the package a good shove off to the side of the room, well out of my way, and unfortunately, also well out of my reach. Skittish kitty returned to investigate my progress and hopped right up on top of my first cwrapped Christmas package of the year. She looked at me intently, as if gauging the swatting distance between us. And then she promptly barfed all over the top of the package. I couldn't swat. I couldn't get up to chase her away. All I could do is stare in disgust and disbelief with my jaw on the floor - trying not to blast into a fit of dry-heaves. I suppose it was payback for scaring the hairballs out of her when I plopped on the floor. Note to friends and relatives: It was Brian's gift, not yours, so don't get all grossed out. I cursed loudly as I hoisted my big Elizabody off the floor and unwrapped the gift carefully, making sure the vomit stayed in one place - and did not get on ME. I managed to clean everything up and 5 hours, 3 glasses of water, 14 potty breaks, 2 phone calls, 3 snacks, and 6 TUMS later, I was finished. Despite the ugly cwrapping paper and bows, mailing label gift tags and smiley face stickers, the pile looks pretty festive. So for all those third-trimester cat-battling pregnant gift-cwrapping women out there, just remember: "There are three reasons for breast-feeding: the milk is always at the right temperature; it comes in attractive containers; and the cat can't get it." ~Irena Chalmers Peace, till next |
Monday,
December 13, 2004 - Spread cheer. Buy stuff. Sister Shanny and her hubby came out yesterday to help with the Bed/Bath project. Brian and Gary slapped on another coat of mud, sanded and hooked the electric back up. (YAY! POWER!) Shanny organized my sewing room, the spare room and E-Beth's room. I feel a zillion times better now. We think that we should be able to move back into the bedroom by the weekend. Poor Briguy is now dry-scaly dehydrated skin guy. The drywall dust is sucking the moisture right out of him and turning his skin a ghostly-anemic shade of pale. I'm sharing my anti-stretch mark lotion with him (which, by the way, works - at 31 weeks, I don't have a single stretch mark! <vigorously knocking on wood>) We have snow - three days ago we got a hearty dose of fat, wet flakes, which is still lingering today. I've heard that we're supposed to get BIG winter weather this week, so it looks like it'll be a white Christmas. We've discussed getting a Christmas tree - but since our bedroom is temporarily located in the middle of our living room floor - along with the new sink and toilet fixtures, the only place we would have room to set up the tree would be in the new toilet. So, we're going to pass on the whole tree experience this year. Besides, Erin's got a beauty this year. We'll share her Christmas tree cheer. (see picture from last journal entry below). Yesterday we went off the healthy meal planning and ate our favorites - pastitsio (a Greek pasta dish) and vichyssoise (leek and potato soup). They're both fairly easy to make (otherwise I wouldn't bother) However, that they're both really rich and NOT terribly healthy. vichyssoise
- leek and potato soup Cut off the green parts of the leeks, then slice the white part lengthwise in half, then cut into half-disks. throw them all in a strainer and rinse. Those leeks hide a lot of dirt in them. Melt butter and sautee leeks till translucent. Dump in the chiken broth, pepper to taste, and sliced potatoes, bring to a boil. Dump the leeks, butter, broth and potatoes into a blender and grind it up to a thick liquid. Add milk or cream, stir. Eat. Brian and I *love* this stuff. You can make it thicker by adding less milk and more potatoes. We've found that it's better when it's thicker. I can't seem to find the pastitsio recipe online that I use, but look for one with cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg and hamburger. Yum. We've started childbirth classes and Brian likes them verymuchthankyou. We get to bring a blanket and pillows, lounge on the floor, and watch movies with nekked women in them. Granted, these women are howling in pain and not looking their best, but any class where you get to sprawl out comfortably on the floor can't be all that bad. I wonder if they'll let us bring popcorn. . . . Peace, till next |
Saturday,
December 11, 2004 - Weekend Undies and Reasoned Greetings "Brian! Someone's at the door!" I shrieked, and I ran over to the corner of the dining room to hide my nearly-nekkid buttocks. I had a bag of too-small maternity clothes packed up for my sister, and I hastily grabbed a pair of pants from the top of the bag, threw one leg in, then the other, yanked them up to my <ahem> "waist" - just a little TOO enthusiastically - and ripped the whole entire crotch out of them in one quick r-r-r-r-r-r-r-riiiiiiiip! So I ran back to the door, yanking Brian's too-small tee-shirt down over the great gaping hole in my pants, (which runs from almost to my waist, the the back of my butt) and wave hello to our neighbor, who has come to pick up recyclable bottles. (His kids collect them for Boy Scouts). The *bleeping* dog is jumping all over him, and I'm screaming at the Skyemonster, trying to keep my undies from showing through the enormous pants-hole, and Brian is scrambling to grab all the bottles and cans to keep me from doing it. Finally I get the stupid dog's attention as I scream "TREAT! TREAT" and I grab the nearest package of treats I can find, which were actually cat treats, but anyone who eats lemon rinds, potato peels and his own feces isn't gonna notice the difference between cat and dog treats. I lure Skye into the living room and up the stairs in search of a less-obscene pair of pants. Skye
runs through the upstairs, greedily devouring the entire bag of
cat food, freaking out from the "junk food" rush, and
starts maniacally Skye hears Brian downstairs laughing, and remembers that he is missing out on prime neighbor attention, and tumbles back down the stairs, with me in tow. We both make it to the kitchen at the same time, and I notice Brian has forgotten a box of bottles - which I grab quickly, and slam the door before Skye can escape. I made it outside just in time. Brian and our neighbor loaded everything up and we all chatted for a few minutes. Neighbor leaves, and Brian and I laugh about the whole chaotic mess, arm and arm as we head back in the house - only to find the entire room filled with thick smoke. I had totally forgotten about the frying pan on HIGH heat on the stove. - which was now a melted mess of teflon. Never a dull moment around here. My sister is going to love her new air-conditioned pants. Too bad I don't know any seamstresses . . . . Erin sent out her annual holiday email greeting today. I'd love to share it with you all:
Peace, till next |
Friday,
December 10, 2004 - All I want for Christmas Among the "Whoa, that's AWESOME! I'd love one of those!" items, was an MP3 player. I had listened intently as he explained differences between varying manufacturers. I learned he wanted one with a removable memory stick, and NOT an IPod because their batteries have replacement/recharging issues, which, in his opinion, renders them unworthy of the astronomical investment. Fast forward to the week before Thanksgiving as I finished my holiday shopping list. I purchased the *perfect* MP3 player for dear husband, and a saucy little memory stick - just like he asked for. I am a technologically-challenged person, and finding the RIGHT MP3 player and accessories proved challenging. I asked around. I shopped around. I investigated and learned more than I ever wanted to know about such a product. The end result was worth it though. I had achieved technological Nirvana. Fast Forward again to a week ago, when my darling husband sent me the following email: -----
Original Message ----- I never do this to people, but I could win a FREE IPod!! So could you!! You have to sign up for a trial offer for a service. You can cancel the offer before you have to pay for it, just make sure you cancel it in time...I'm trying the Blockbuster DVD service myself. If you're interested, click on the following link and help me (and yourself) out!! http://www.freeiPods.com/?r=12723294 I apologize for sending this to you and potentially causing strife and pain in your life, but those iPods are expensive!! Thanks!!! Color Wife Annoyed. The response: ----- Original Message ----- grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrdammit! Heather So, if y'all are feeling generous and want to help ME earn a free IPod, please feel free to click on the above link and contribute indirectly to Heather's IPod fund - which will be shipped to my adorable husband, who will immediately fork it over to the rightful owner, me. Fast forward one more time to today. I email the Briguy: ----- Original Message ----- Since you're getting an IPod, I'd like this for Christmas. K? . . . . and that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this! The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this! And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair. Heather ----- Original Message -----
Brian ----- Original Message ----- Heather For
those who have not experienced the joys of pregnancy, laughing too
hard is another one of those things they don't warn you about in
advance. Just remember, at 8 months into your pregnancy, be cautious
whenever you And finally, practice those kegels religiously!!!! Peace, till next |
Thursday,
December 9, 2004 - Checking in and updating - Baby, Brian and I are all perfectly well. E-Beth is still safely tucked away in the Elizabelly, and we're still holding out for a February debut. My doctor has told me, however, to "take it easy." I'm allowed to sew and work here at home still. I'm allowed to sit. I'm allowed to sleep. I'm allowed to eat. That's it. My life has become a spectator sport. No worries, to those who have orders coming - I am still able to sew, fill orders, and everything is right on schedule. Once I finish my current orders, I will be going on maternity leave. I plan to spend a ton of time reading good books, eating bon-bons and getting my feet massaged. Just kidding. Doc would kick my ever-expanding buttocks. I'm not allowed to gain any more weight for the duration of my pregnancy. He says 30 lbs is enough. Bleh. >:-( Back to Thanksgiving: As luck would have it, the day I was released from the hospital, Brian noticed a funky stream of water puddling down our basement walls. "Funny!" he said. "That's right next to where the septic system is!" I, however, did not see the humor. "Can ya give me a flush?" he asked of me. Nasties bubbled and burped their way to the surface of our crunchy, dead, brown lawn. "That's not the kind of Christmas decorating I was hoping to do today, babydoll." I explained. He called our neighbors to ask if they might know *exactly* where our septic line might be, and by the next morning, ALL of our neighbors were assembled on our poo-covered lawn, digging, helping, and fixing our broken septic line. We cannot figure out what we did in our lifetimes to deserve these amazingly helpful and kind people as neighbors. We're kind of afraid we've wrongly been given someone else's good karma. Either way, it was a TRUE Thanksgiving weekend. Every once in a while we need something to shake up our lives and make us realize just how grateful we should be for all the good things going on right now and the good people who help make things happen. Sure, our sewer exploded and covered our yard in floating turds. But we got to spend a day joking around with some of the greatest people on earth, and ate some delicious pizza with them too. Today my family has been emailing back and forth to work out the Christmas gathering schedules, and I asked Erin if we would be having a meal at her December 26th celebration or just snacks, and if so, what should we contribute to the food pile. Her response: -----
Original Message ----- Meal?
On Christmas? Are you nuts? You'll eat candy canes and miniature
chocolates like Jesus intended, damn it! Erin -------------------------------------- Peace, till next |
Monday,
November 22, 2004 - Weighing the consequences :-) Welcome to the third trimester! There's good, there's bad, but the BEST thing is that E-Beth will be here in just a few months. The good stuff includes: *Enormous
breasts
(Well, enormous for ME) The bad stuff includes: *Enormous
belly, so it cancels out the enormous breasts. Happy belated birthday to Dad and Kathy - Hope they were fun! You're both 29, right? ;-) We're going to Erin's for Thanksgiving. Mom is coming too - Brian is making dessert, I am making "goody plates" (olives, pickles and bologna rolls - they know I can't cook) and Erin is doing the meal. Brian and I are a bit nervous since Erin's hubby, Patrick, recently told us how he had an insane attack of the grippers after eating Erin's last Thanksgiving meal. Hmmm. We have our usual family Thanksgiving traditions - for example, we scream "TRAIN WRECK" and stuff mashed potatoes and peas in our mouths, then open them to display the squished contents. Well, ok, so only *I* do that. Then we give thanks - last year I was thankful that Judge Judy isn't my mom. Then we hold a mint eating contest and see who can fit the most mints in their mouths. I always win. I am done with all my Christmas shopping for this year - but only because I'm afraid of standing in the middle of aisle four in Walmart and having my water break. <Over the Wallyworld loudspeaker> "Yeah, clean up in aisle four. Ummm - you may want to bring several mops." Thanks, but no thanks. So, for all those who celebrate Thanksgiving, have a good one and be safe! Peace, till next |
Friday,
November 12, 2004 - It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, and I've
got milk bone underwear. I have to go in for appointments every two weeks now, because, as my doctor said, "Exciting stuff is going on now!" In preparation for the BIG DAY a little side note: Our upstairs consists of 5 rooms - four of them are exactly the same size, and the main front room is double the size of the other four rooms. I've been sewing in what will be Elizabeth's room, and using one of the other rooms as a big storage area. Well, it's almost painted and ready to be moved into - and then Elizabeth's room will be ready to have a makeover. I need to sand down the outer edge of the hardwood floors (paint spatters), stain and seal them, and give the room a new paint job. Then we'll be all set for her to move in! Brian's friends are coming over on Monday to sheetrock our bedroom, and then Tuesday will mud and sand it! By this time next week, our bedroom and bathroom will have WALLS!!!!! A few weeks ago, as many of you know, I had a rough week because of the whole weigh-in situation (gained 11 pounds in one month). In addition to the weight, our Skyemonster had picked up a nasty habit of snapping at me. With a baby on the way, this understandably concerned me, so I was nearly convinced he had to go - which, of course, broke Brian's heart. We bought a book about child-proofing our dog, which Brian read voraciously and began to "child-proof" our dog. Brian would run around the room screaming DOG! DOG! DOG! at the top of his lungs. (to mimic the behavior of what a child might do) Skye simply looked at him with his head cocked cross-wise, asking, in that silent Dog-to-Dad language that only Skye and Brian seem to understand, "Are you freaking INSANE?" Things were starting to improve dramatically - but then I noticed some *new* behavioral changes - which were annoying and disturbing, all at the same time. This dog seemed to be utterly obsessed with Brian and had absolutely *no* interest in me - including obeying my commands, listening to me calling his name, or even acknowledging my presence. Brian would enter the room, the dog would cram his nose up Brian's butt and follow him around obsessively. This annoyed me. First I had a dog who was biting me (because, according to the behaviorist, apparently I'm lower in the household pecking order than he is) <ahem> And, according to Skye, Brian is A GOD. Now the dog had started to completely IGNORE me, and was obsessed with my husband. Fair? I didn't think so. A warning of what was to come? Maybe. . . I was looking at my life a year down the road, imagining little Elizabeth following Daddy around the house, in absolute awe, sprinkling little rosebud petals at his feet, and ignoring me - just as Skye was doing. Abandoned. Unloved. Shunned. That was me. And why? Well, of course, it HAD to be because I had gained those eleven stupid bleeping pounds, right? I endured two entire days of being ignored by this stupid cur who *I* had chosen from 150 mangy mutts at the shelter - Handpicked by ME. NOT chosen by Brian, who wanted a rough and tumble Rottweiler mix who chest-butted him at first meeting. . . . <CSI flashback> BLAMMMMMO!!!! :::dog knocks Brian on his rear::: "Now THAT is one cool dog!" Brian shouted as he picked himself off the ground. "Ummmmm, honey -" I pondered, as I dusted off his butt for him. "What about that adorable ball-bouncing playful fluffy guy with one blue eye?" I pointed at Skye, who was goofily tossing a bright red rubber ball into the air, barking once, then catching it on the downfall. "Eh, he's ok." muttered Brian, sizing up the rotty again, preparing for Wrestle Mania II. I asked the volunteer to bring out pretty little ragamuffin Skye, who ran over to Brian immediately and started showering him with sloppy dog kisses. And the rest is history. <CSI flashback ends> whoosh- So fast-forward to me, after two days of sheer neglect, and overwhelming Brian brown-nosing from the dog. I was sitting in the living room working on a neck ruff, when this horrific, overwhelming stench hit my nostrils. "what the-" I questioned. I looked at Skye, who started sniffing the air too - and honed in on his hindquarters. "Brian? What have you been feeding Skye?" I asked. "He smells AWFUL!" Brian popped his head into the room - "ummm, why?" Skye, seeing brian's face, frantically scurried over to bury his head in Brian's pants. . . right at the pocket region . . . <Click> went the lightbulb in my brain. Skye wasn't in love with Brian. Nor was Skye in hate with me. He was being brainwashed. "Brian, what is Skye obsessed with? Why does he think you're a billion times better than squished snails between his toes?" "Ummmmm - it might be the beef jerky in my pocket . . . " he winced. Skye farted. Brian winced again. Brian farted in an attempt to cover for the dog. "OUT!" I pointed my finger toward the door, while I fanned the air. " BOTH of you!" Brian shuffled toward the door, and Skye followed, nose buried in Brian's pants pocket region. About 20 minutes later, Skye came back in, smelling even worse than when he left. "BRIAN!!!!!!!!!" I cried! Skye's hindquarters were completely covered in the nastiest beef jerky-induced poo explosion I had ever seen. For one hour, dog endured a fur clipping from his boy. And the boy endured a lecture from me. We have a new household rule: No more beef jerky for dog OR boy. Oh, and Skye loves me again. :-) We started doggie school - and Skye is progressing wonderfully. (mostly because we bought him a training collar - and he actually pays attention to us now) Skye hasn't bitten me in weeks, and we're hoping that Skye's behavior won't do any backslides. And Brian and I have both agreed *not* to hide Elizabeth's favorite cookies in our pockets once she is born. ;-) Peace, till next |
Tuesday,
November 9, 2004 - Booby class <eyeball roll> Ain't he the greatest? In case you're wondering where all the past journal entries went, I finally archived them, so if you want to look through my past journal entries, look to the right of this entry, and you'll find all the past ones, in order. Just click on the link and you'll be magically redirected, which is better than being misdirected. OK, so I haven't been updating as much as I'd like - I'm still catching up on post-Halloween orders, but by the end of November, things should be slowing down a bit and I'll have a bit more time for journal entries and new clothing design lines. In the meantime, if you don't see what you want, just email me. I can make *anything.* I've been getting a few emails asking about my post-delivery plans with regard to continuing with this business - Folks, no worries about me and motherhood - I am *NOT* going to retire or put VMS out to pasture. I plan on slowing down just a tiny bit to heal my body and spend some quality time with Brian and Elizabeth, but after that, I will be back, full force. I will continue to provide flawless customer service and will meet all deadlines without *any* problems. Last week I had to take the glucose test - and of course, I failed. So yesterday I had to do a three-hour glucose test, and they robbed me of my blood four times (ouch). But the good news is that I PASSED and I don't have gestational diabetes! HOORAH! We woke up this morning to a snow-covered Currier & Ives scene outside. I went for a walk while Brian was in the shower and saw four deer crossing the road. For some reason I've been anxiously awaiting winter this year - which *never* happens. I have another doctor's appointment on Thursday. I'm wondering if I will get yelled at again for more weight gain. We'll see. ;-) I feel great - which is why I'm not too worried about it. On the gown horizon - One of Queen Elizabeth's repros. Which one? I'll keep it a surprise for now. I found an AMAZING place for historical references, and it allows me to see three dimensions of the clothing, instead of a flat portrait. It will prove to be an enormous help with the repros - and there are *several* I plan to do. I've been wanting to work on them for ages, but I've been booked solid since last April, with no time for side projects. Keep an eye out - they're coming soon! Peace, till next |
