The light and cheery stuff!
The little monster (ok, so the spouse says I should pick a better name for proto-baby, but hey. I'm the boss of this blog and I'll dub proto-baby little monster if I want) is a wiggle worm. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I have trouble getting back to sleep because I'm being fluttered at, usually for 10-20 minutes. Sometimes it makes me cry I'm so excited and confused and nervous and excited again. Also being fluttered at, which makes it really hard to get comfortable.
Sciatica and I are arch-nemeses. I have an arthritic hip and lately the sciatica has been making my good leg numb so it is awful. I even nearly crashed when I couldn't put any weight on the numb/sciatic side and had been walking around a table. Whoops!
Tomorrow we're going on a tour of the snazzy remodeled school where the kid will start kindergarten next fall. I'm going to cry the whole time, I'm sure. My hormones are very into crying lately. Who cries during Live Free or Die Hard except a pregnant person?
Yesterday the kid insisted on watching Cute Roulette videos for a half hour and I spilled a half glass of lemonade on myself making room for her to sit next to me, only I had no idea how bad the damage was and tried to leave for the store with sopping wet pants. The spouse caught me and made me change just in time.
Speaking of pants, I bought a pair of maternity pants and they are the greatest thing ever right now. Although one seam wasn't sewn with enough allowance and has now pulled apart, I can fix that. Awesome pants! That fit! Without using the Bella Band to hold them up! Yay!
We misplaced our slow cooker when we moved so we got a shiny new one, which we're arguing we needed anyway since we're trying to cook for the week on the weekend and it's easier to do all the prep at once and then wait around while everything cooks.
This seems to be a bad year for rutabagas which isn't a big deal for anyone but me because they are all I really want to eat right now. Baked rutabagas with noodles and cheese sauce (maybe some peas in there too), potato leek rutabaga soup, pasties, nom. And no rutabagas! I'm getting desperate and may have my inner city sibling check out a bigger farmer's market to see if there are good ones around and have them shipped to me. (For the uninitiated, rutabagas are like squash in consistency when cooked well, only sweeter and less grainy, and they are sometimes called Swedes. I will admit to being enough Swede myself that it's probably one of my very favorite foods, despite its reputation for being tough. You need to buy ones not larger than two fists together or even smaller for the best flavor and texture, and the wax and outer layer should get cut off.)