The Sweetest Humble Pie

19 08 2011

We spent a couple nights camping, spent one night at home, then headed off for a couple of nights visiting family a few hours away.  Being gone on two back-to-back trips, we worried about leaving the cat alone so much.  Jason’s solution was to pack him up and take him with us to Jason’s brother’s house.

Seriously?

Wolverine is a young, independent, nocturnal handful of a country cat.  Not exactly road-trip-to-the-suburbs material.

I didn’t absolutely refuse to go along with the plan.  After all, having the cat with us would save me a certain amount of anxiety, knowing he was safe and not missing us.

But I predicted absolute misery.  We’d have to keep him locked in the house to keep him safe.  And I expected out-and-out mayhem all night long because of it.  Howling, cord-chewing, dog-chasing, toe-biting madness from our little furball, who typically spends his late evenings and early mornings hunting, and all night doing who-knows-what out in the BLM land.

We left late on a hot afternoon, and a rough couple of days seemed inevitable.  Charlie had just thrown up, sick from something he ate while camping.  I had to spend twenty minutes trying to adjust my car seat and two pillows to get my36-week-pregnant body comfortable for the long drive.  And we shoved the poor cat into his crate in the 110-degree car.

And he… slept.

Ah, well.  Sure.  He always sleeps in the afternoon.  Just wait until night falls.

We arrived, ate out, visited, and then I headed to bed.  And Wolverine jumped up on my feet and went to sleep.

Charlie came in, fully recovered from his stomach upset, and curled up on his bed, and went to sleep.

Eventually, Jason came to bed, too.

Wolverine?

Still asleep.

I woke up at 8 the next morning, after a restful night of sleep, and Wolverine was still curled up at the bottom of the bed.

So I was wrong.  But looking at those three boys, snuggled and sweet and asleep…  Well, who cares about being right, anyway?

A little update:  So, yes, I was wrong, and I can totally admit it.  BUT… after 36 hours of being a sweet, purring fur puddle, the cat woke up at 2:30am on night 2 and proceeded to LOSE HIS SHIT.  Which resulted in very little sleep for me.  5am found me on the front porch holding a leash attached to a terror of a night beast.  By the time everyone else woke up, the sun was up and Wolverine had returned to his daytime state of sleepy sweetness.  Damn him.

A little side note: I actually googled “fur puddle” because it sounded kind of dirty.  But apparently it isn’t, I am just a pervert.

A final update: Within 2 hours of returning home and releasing the cat, Wolverine left most of a dead lizard on the front porch where our luggage was still piled.  I think there may be several interpretations of his message.  #1: Thank you for the awesome trip.  #2: Thank you for bringing me home.  #3: If you ever pull that shit on me again, remember I have teeth and claws and I know how to use them; now return this f*cking cat carrier and bring me some tuna.





Overheard

11 08 2011

I was in the kitchen when I heard Jason, talking on the phone in his office.

“I’m going to have a daughter here pretty soon, in September…”

Okay, call me a giant, quivering mass of pregnancy hormones loosely held together by a veneer of maternity clothes, but I had to freeze right where I was and absorb that sentence.

Jason’s talked a lot about the baby, but this is the first time I’ve heard him talk about his daughter.

Honestly? It’s impossible for me not to tear up every time I think about it.





2pm @ My House

4 08 2011

 

 





Snow Baby

24 02 2011

Honestly, I’m not much of a skier.  But I married a skier.  And now I am apparently growing a skier.

 

 

Jason scoffed at the general wisdom that pregnant women have no business skiing.

But he skied behind me for three and half hours, just to be sure nobody ran into me.  Or our future ski team member.





The Love and Support of My Husband

10 10 2010

Yesterday, Jason returned from his vacation in the woods, and with him my sense of humor.

Jason and I are very different people, and have very different interests.  But we do have this in common: we enjoy making people uncomfortable with our outrageous and inappropriate comments.

When Jason got home, he asked if I wanted to head to the bar to watch the football game with a couple of his friends.  This is a perfect example of how we are, in many ways, essentially incompatible.  My immediate response was “No” because I wanted a quiet evening at home to (I have to admit this) knit.  And maybe read a book.

But Jason always gets his way in everything.

We headed out to the boys’ favorite bar, where Travis and Colin were already watching the game.  By “favorite bar,” I mean the bartender knows them well, and Jason and Colin have mugs on which their names are etched.

The bartender knows me by proxy, and therefore offered me water or soda – after all, I’m pregnant, right?

I ordered a beer.

The guys and I had some chuckles about this.  They suggested I order a shot.  I held out for awhile, but then Karen joined us via text (she’s out of town, but was getting game updates from her husband, Travis).  When Karen suggested a shot, I knew I had to do it.

Jason flagged the bartender, and without hesitation, she shook me up a shot of vanilla cream and vodka, which I quickly downed as the boys toasted “to the baby!”  (Travis toasted “to the next baby”)

Ah, yes, truly horrifying.

The bartender claimed she had figured I wasn’t pregnant anymore, but we all liked to think she had some doubts before we let her in on the joke.

Due to beer and vodka and pranking, I made a rare concession: I agreed to accompany Jason and Colin to a somewhat seedier bar for some late-night trucker breakfast.

Since I was already deviating from my typical veggies-and-organic cuisine, I went ahead and ordered two greasy breakfasts rather than choose just one.  Mmmmmmm… Biscuits and gravy, bacon, eggs, and pancakes, plus some of Jason’s gravy-covered hashbrowns and english muffin.  Oh, and it began with an appetizer of hot wings.

With four plates in front of me, I was reminded of a bet I have with one of Jason’s friends.  We have a standing date to meet at a famous breakfast place in their college town to have a breakfast eating contest.

“You’ve gotta get a picture of this to send to Josh!” I demanded.

Jason and Colin were game for this, and they each took cell phone pictures of me and my plates, still finishing up my pancakes.

Jason texted Josh the photo, along with this message: “This baby didn’t hang around, but if she keeps eating like this, you’re in trouble.”

Yes, an altogether inappropriate night.

It’s so good to have my husband back, and to have his support through this difficult time.

 

My first post-pregnancy beer was organic, because I still have to watch what I put in my body - for next time. Trucker breakfast was not organic, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, right?

 








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