Two Weeks

In the beginning of the baby-making process, the two weeks between ovulation and icky gross funtimes seems like an effing eternity.

An eternity on the lake of fire where everyone else announces their pregnancies and you secretly think really mean things about them.

Or maybe not so secretly.

"The Two-Week Wait", as it's called, is a reality for almost every who wants to get pregnant. The first two times through it, it's pretty much the worst thing ever. It's like your life is going at half speed no matter how hard you try to keep busy to make the time pass faster. Everything is a question mark. Everything is a symptom. It's like rocking in a chair and expecting to cover distance.

This month, though, has just been easier. Maybe the third time is the charm for getting used to always waiting for something. You wait for your period. Then you wait to ovulate. Then you wait to see if your period is going to show again. Then you wait to ovulate. Rinse. Repeat. Go crazy.

I'm relaxed this month. I mean, I'm never actually relaxed, but I'm not on the verge of a total spazz. I'm just waiting to see what happens. The farther I get in to this process, the more the practical side of my brain starts to wonder if two weeks is even really that long for your body to decide if it wants the rest of your whole damn life to change.

This is a list of things that are far-less life changing that we wait two weeks or WAY more for them to happen. We may not do it happily, but we do it.

Approval to buy a house

Time between buying plane tickets and going on trip

Regular shipping on mass-produced things from China bought on Ebay

Installation of new floors

Refund of money to your credit card

Appointment to see a medical specialist

Prize from contests

Test results from the above-mentioned specialist

Legalization of divorce

How long is takes your crazy cousin to get to your house when he says he'll be there in a half hour

So, is two weeks that long? In real-life terms, probably not. I may wake up tomorrow morning and count today as a moment of insanity and go back to freaking out about the whole thing, but I really don't think so. I'm just okay with it.

For now.

As always, it's hip to be square (and not spazzing for the moment), kids.

Oh, Hey There Universe!

I have this uh-dorable idea that I'm in control. I like the believe that the business is completely under my management and my life is in order the way that I want it. I imagine that nothing can change that unless I want it to.

I am so full of shit. 

The Universe likes to remind me of this.

Sometimes I appreciate it. 

The thing about it is, The Universe is one of those jerks who likes to give you good news but only after you waded through the gut-wrenching, terrifying, seemingly bad news to get to it. 

It's like someone making you eat a plate of icky vegetables before giving you the bacon that you've been waiting for.

Mmm... bacon.

Right. Anyway. On Monday, we got a certified letter from one of the companies that we work with. When I say "work with", I mean, "they are a majority of our income and that contract is really important to the business side of running this practice." Certified letters are usually contract updates, but they rarely mean anything of value. I didn't think much of it. 

SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT MORE OF IT. 

Basically, they were cutting an 1/8 of our income for the rest of the year.

*Cue instant heart attack.*

I immediately went into HOLY CRAP mode. I went from quietly eating my chicken salad to eating people's souls. It was a big effing deal.

Luckily, I had to go back to doing other work and I didn't have a lot of time to think about it that afternoon. When I got home from work, husband wanted me to go with him to pick up some chairs he bought, and that didn't leave much time for thinking about anything else. Also, the fact that I am totally exhausted by 9:30 at night meant that bedtime was shortly following the afternoon and evening shenanigans. 

Thanks for that, at least.

By the next morning, I was still worried, but then things just kind of started to make sense. It was like The Universe showed herself to remind me that she isn't a total ho bag. 

There were two different opportunities that could have been really good for us, but both were going to cost us a lot of money in salaries. I was uneasy about both of them, and I felt a little strong-armed into doing it. No one was forcing me, but both of them really needed the opportunity, and we were doing well enough as a business to make them manageable investments. 

Even so, I just didn't really want to do either. I like being comfortable. If we were trying to take over the world and please shareholders, I probably would have cared a lot more, but at the time, we were doing well enough to support our needs and well beyond.

I would like to note that the morning before we received the fateful letter, I was discussing my hesitations with my husband and said something along the lines of "The business is doing incredibly well. It's not like we can't afford it."

Why yes, I am the moron who tempted The Universe and set this whole thing in motion. 

The whole thing was the perspective change that I needed. I now saw it as an opportunity to quell my anxieties rather than something that should create more of them. I had a real way out of things that I couldn't decide what to do on because The Universe is all nice like that when she wants to be. 

Sometimes she just has to be a total butthead before to prove a point. Jerk. 

Really, really nice jerk who should love me and remember how much credit I give her and yeah. Be kind, please. Just please.

I'll shut up now.

As always, it's hip to be square (and not entirely in control), kids. 

Clap, Clap

Reason #459834598345 why I married the dude who I married.

I was lying in bed. I was comfortable. My foot was still hurting. 

I was a blanket burrito. 

Husband had turned on the light because I couldn't find the remote and, well, I didn't want to get up. So he was being nice and shit. He found it.

I was lying on it.

JUST LET THAT GO.

Anyway, he went back to his usual spot where he watches television in the loft outside of our bedroom. He lays on the floor with his neck propped up against the couch in a way that cannot be comfortable and I, in fact, know it's not comfortable because he gets pain in his neck and then thinks he's dying, BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT.

So, I'm lying in bed watching television and the light is on and it's bright and I'm lazy. 

Me: *Claps twice*

Nothing happens.

Me: *Claps twice again*

Still nothing

Me: *Prepares to clap twice a third time*

Husband: "You know the lights don't work like that, right?"

Me: "DAMMIT."

The only thing better than not having A Clapper? Having a husband who knows that you're trying to use your imaginary Clapper to turn the lights off. 

And yes, he did get up and turn the light off for me. And yes, he is awesome.

As always, it's hip to be square (and lazy as eff!), kids.

Really Foot? Really?

I was just getting into a routine. I was super proud if myself. I was up to almost 2 miles per day. I was running about a third of it. I was getting toward my goal. 

Then one day, I had to stop at a half mile because I had pain in the arch of my left foot. 

The next day I was fine, and I ran even farther. I forgot that I had a problem the day before. It totally didn't hurt.

The next, next day, I was miserable. Lots of pain miserable. Walking hurt miserable. 

Three days later, I still can't run.

I WAS JUST GETTING INTO A ROUTINE, UNIVERSE!!

Ugh. I look forward to running. I hate it while I'm doing it, but I love the feeling of surviving it. I was going to get in shape. 

Now my shape will remain amorphous blob until it stops hurting. It won't lose the weight I really want to lose for the cruise. This is lame lame lame. 

You better have a good justification for this, universe. For serious.

As always, it's hip to be square (and gimpy!), kids. 

The {Dryer} Bar Method

As I get busier, I spend more time looking for ways to automate and make my life easier. A huge portion of that has been the introduction of Pepper into my daily chaos. She has stream-lined my existence so very much. A personal assistance is a luxury that I am incredibly fortunate to have, but it isn't reasonable for most. I want to introduce you so 6 inches of solid make-my-life-easier happiness.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

This is the Bounce dyer bar. It's an adhesive static cling eating monster that attaches to the side of your dryer and saves you from having to use dyer sheets.

Courtesy of news.bouncefresh.com

Now I know that putting dryers sheets in the dryer is not a big deal, but they were causing...errr.. different issues in my house.

Let's start this by saying that I am cheap. Once I get into a habit of frugality, I can't stop it no matter how much sense you try to bang into my head. My mother has always torn the dryer sheets in half and only used half for every load. I, in turn, started to do the same when I got my own washer and dryer, because, as I said, cheap. They turn into fairly small sheets of cling-y-ness and get lost in the shuffle of clothing. Instead of ending up in the garbage where they should have been, they would end up attached to clothing or somewhere on the floor. They never seemed to make it into the trash bin.

Here lies the problem. The big dog? He thinks those things are delicious. He looks for them and eats them as quickly as possible. I cannot tell you how many times I've seem him chewing on something invisible only to open his big boxy mouth and find a piece of a dryer sheet sneaking its way down his throat.

Dear Dog: THOSE DON'T TASTE GOOD. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

Anyway, hubs begged me to use whole ones so there would be fewer pieces all over the house, but I was, you know, hard-headed about it. While walking through the store one day, I saw the dryer bar on the shelf. It was more expensive than a box of dryer sheets, but it just seemed so simple. I imagined the angels singing from the heavens about the miracle of clothes drying that this was going to be.

It was simple. I attached it to the wall of my dryer. I turned on my dryer.

I greatly reduced the chance of my dog dying of dryer sheet asphyxiation.

Furthermore, there are only two of us and we don't do that much laundry, so one bar lasts us nearly 6 months.

In case you haven't noticed, I LOVE good products. They make me the happiest. I didn't know that we were still in need of evolution in clothes drying, but this thing has definitely made the process simpler.

And less lethal to box-faced dogs with a penchant for un-digestables.

As always, it's hip to be square (and dry!), kids.

Kicking My Own Ass

Alright, late 20s. You can just fuck right off.

At some point over the last 5 years, my metabolism went on extended vacay. It was all like, "I'm peace-ing out!" It didn't leave a note. There wasn't a moving truck. That shit just hit the road and left all of its stuff behind.

Fast forward to now when I want to continue to eat like a college student but my pants are all like, "YOU'RE STRETCHING US. WE AREN'T MADE TO BEND LIKE THATTTTT!"

And yeah.

So, I guess it's time to get off my behind and get moving. A friend of mine had a brand new treadmill that she needed to get rid of. I needed to take it. For the last several days, I have been getting reacquainted with running. There was a time when I ran 5-ish miles a day.

...It will be a while before we get back to that. If ever. Fucking late 20s making things harder then they were in my early 20s. Assholes.

I did 1.1 miles of intervals this morning. I got up at 5 a.m. and hit the moving belt. It's way cooler to say "hit the streets," but the belt is just so much closer.

Now, if I could just shake this chest cold that has been with me for two weeks. That too can fuck right off.

As always, it's hip to be square (square, you hear me?!), kids.

What Your Man Is Missing

My husband gets sad when mother nature shows up and it's another month where he didn't knock me up, but I don't think he understands the roller coaster that I go through. How could he? He is obviously a very active participant in this process, but he is not physically feeling it. He isn't watching for symptoms or paying attention to every pain or pang. He's waiting for me to tell him what's next. 

Here's the best way I can explain the very emotional reaction that I get to an unsuccessful cycle. It's the most accurate way that I can liken what females go through and why it takes up so much of energy and emotion. I get irritated when my husband "just doesn't understand", but how could he? What experience could he have that he could naturally liken to this long and exhausting process?

Also, the following imagery is a little graphic, so, you know, don't puke. If you don't like talk of gross stuff, stop reading or put on your big girl panties or whatever. 

Imagine there is a promotion that you desperately want. It would change your life. It will probably take up a lot of time and energy, but it's the path that you're on and you know that you want it. There's nothing else that you want. There are moments when you think that things might be okay without it, but then something comes up and you are reminded why you need this. When the desire comes back after waning for a few days, it's stronger and sometimes can feel like desperation.  

Then you don't get the job, but instead of a phone call, email and a pat on the back, the only indication that you get is that your body starts to hurt. You start feeling physically sick. Then, you start to bleed. It's not like a little cut. It's a wound that requires multiple bandage changes over several days. There is no warning. This is just the way nature tells you that you weren't right for the job. When you stand up, you start to bleed more heavily. Every move you make is a reminder that you didn't achieve your goal. You can't blame it on politics or the interviewer not liking you. It's just luck of the draw. Your life isn't yet where you want it to be because you didn't make it happen. For several days, you get a physical reminder that you're not yet on the way to where you need to be. Sometimes it really hurts. Sometimes it's lighter. Sometimes you stain your clothes. Regardless, there is no soft let down. You go from hopeful to bleeding after two endless weeks of waiting for more information.

Does that sound like it sucks? 

Good, because it does. It sucks a whole shit ton. 

I won't say it's harder for women, but it is different. The pain is the there whether you're the potential mother or the father, but it is definitely not the same. Mine isn't worse, but I feel like it's starts out more intense because I get the physical warning. It's almost like pain that reminds that you've failed. It hurts physically and emotionally.  

If you don't get why your wife/girlfriend/partner seems to never get used the big fat negative on the pee stick, this may be why. It's not a "Don't call us. We'll call you." It's a "OHHHHHH, you'll hear from us, and it won't be pretty."

I hold on hope to the idea that it might be pretty soon. 

As always, it's hip to be square (and emotional!), kids.

"Nest"ing

Believe it or not, this post has nothing to do with babies. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

HOW RELIEVED ARE YOU? Sweet Jeebus knows I am.

Anywhoozie, at the end of last year, husband and I realized that our power bill had gone up like whoa crazy whoa. We were regularly shelling out $400 a month in the Floridian winter for utilities. In the summer, that's not totally unheard of. In winter? It's downright ridiculous.

We got one last exorbitant bill and decided something had to chance. We're both Macs, so we had heard about the Nest thermostat. Up until then, we were hesitant to purchase because the $249 price tag was a little too steep.

In hindsight, it wasn't anywhere near steep. Everything is better when it's free, but the thing has paid for itself several times already.

Disclaimer: I have received no compensation from Nest for this post. I am just a happy consumer who likes to talk about products that have actually helped to make life easier. 

This is the Nest learning thermostat.

Nest.
This is what it looks like when it's cooling.
Image courtesy of Nest.com

It's small. It's unobtrusive. It's dark until you walk by it, and then it lights up.

Sidenote: I'm really short, so I've tried to walk past it without it waking up, and it isn't possible. That ish is sensitive to movement. Evem when I'm crouched down well below it, it still knows I'm there. It's like a worried mother waiting up for her teenager. You know, who wants to house to be nice and cool and energy efficient.

Setting up Nest was fairly easy and not nearly and confusing as I thought it would be. Hubs and I did it together, and just had to switch the wires from our old thermostat to Nest. It isn't something I would have been able to do on my own. My husband is handy and has done things like this before, so he knew what he was doing. When in doubt, ask someone who won't break your air conditioner or the $250 "toy" you bought.

The thing that I liked most about Nest was that it has an app for your iPhone that allows you to change the temperature from anywhere with data or WiFi. I ALWAYS forgot to turn the air conditioning down before I left the house, and it cost us a fortune. Futhermore, using the app, we could put in our weekly schedule and Nest would change the temperatures without us even telling it to. On top of that, if you have it scheduled, but then start manually changing the temperature around the same time or with any pattern, Nest actually picks up on the patterns and starts changing it FOR YOU. WHHAAA??

Either this thing is awesome or we're all SkyNet-ed out over here.

The iPhone scheduling app.
Image courtesy of Nest.com

Okay, now to the proof of why this thing is awesome. The bells and whistles are nice, but if we didn't get the results we needed out of it, it would just be an expensive thermometer.

Between November and December, our power bill went down $120. One hundred twenty dollars. American money. 120 of them.

I couldn't believe it.

Since, our summer power bills have been higher, but it's summer and ALWAYS stinkin' hot around here.

We have had a few minor issues with Nest, but I don't know if they were a flaw in the device or user error. They have all since been resolved and were an issue with battery power or something. Once we realized how awesome it was, we ran out and bought one for my parents house. Installing it there was more difficult because the wires on their old thermostat were labeled wrong, but that is not, by any means, a flaw of the device. Their power bills have gone down substantially as well.

Another added bonus for my parents was the display. My dad's vision isn't good, so the simple and brightly colored display has been fantastic. Oh, and he's a total iPhone nerd, so sometimes I catch him changing the temperature from his phone just because he can.  It's counterproductive for the power bill, but it makes his heart happy, so whatevs.

I love finding products that do what they say without complication or upsales. Nest does what we need it to while saving us money. There are no necessary add ons or added value products. It's just an awesome product that gives me piece of mind and lets me keep more of my hard-earned money.

And that? That I like.

As always, it's hip to be square (or round!), kids.

Oh! Hey there...

If you can't tell, I'm establishing a pattern. There's a part of every month where I'm wracked with nerves and an obsessive mess, and then another part of the month where I'm anticipating that first part. In the former, I have no desire to write even though it would probably help like a whole fuck-ton. In the latter, I write to pass the time. 

I think we've just hit the latter. 

Life is hard, yo. 

As always, it's hip to be square (and predictable!), kids.