Friday, May 23, 2014

7 Quick Takes: mark all as read edition

Earlier this week, my friend Jenna posted on Facebook that "sometimes, life is life and you have to Mark All As Read." I've been feeling so behind on everything- on reading other blogs, on reading and responding to comments here, on reading and responding to e-mails, on writing deadlines, on cleaning the microwave (which I finally did do and it was AWFUL in there).

Jenna, you are right. Life is life. I wish there was a Mark All As Read function for the laundry, but since there isn't, I'm following your example with my online life. I can't possibly catch up. If I missed something huge, someone please tell me.

I'm rebooting here on the blog, too, and focusing on moving forward. I can't catch y'all up on everything at this point, but here's a small window into what we have been doing. Just for fun, I'm doing this Super Quick Takes Haiku Style. Why use lots of words when just a few (and some well placed photos) will do?

Chincoteague Island.
(Yes, the beach is worth all of
the minivan sand.)

We took a trip out to Chincoteague Island last weekend- it was the best way to fit in one last beach trip before there are six of us instead of five. It was lovely. The kids are already asking to go back instead of having a birthday party in September (when all three of their birthdays happen). What reasonable adult would argue with that?

There will be six of us then, and one of us will be about six weeks old. At this moment, though, the mere fact that there will only be one new baby and not two makes this whole idea seem incredibly doable.


Sorting hand-me-downs-
like Purgatory, because
at least it's not Hell.

I am always so, so grateful for the boxes of hand-me-down clothes we have stocked away in our shed, but somehow, the sight of those gray bins stacked in my kitchen makes me feel like the walls are pressing in on me. I've worked diligently, though, and everyone has their summer clothes in the house (washed, dried, folded, mostly put away) and their fall/winter clothes in bins ready to go back out to the shed. That's no small feat.

Knitting for babies:
nothing's quite like getting kicked
inside while purling.

I'm working on the most wonderful striped blanket for Upcoming Baby Boy Dupuy (loosely based on this pattern, but not, because I can't ever just do something simple and follow the directions). Also in the knitting project pile- a hat for my Nephew-To-Be and a just-completed hat for my cousin's new baby daughter.

Oh, Dorothy Day!
I love you, but your writing
makes me so sleepy. 

I'm almost finished with The Long Loneliness, our second-to-last book for the Well-Read Mom this year (which I've been hosting every month at my house). Our meeting is Sunday. I have to finish it before then, because if I don't, I never, never will. It's not that I don't like it. I like it a lot. For some reason, though, maybe a writing style reason or a third trimester reason or a just-have-too-much-going-on reason, every time I read more than about eight pages, my eyes get really, really heavy.

It's very interesting, and you should still read it. Really.

Once isn't enough
when it comes to glucose drinks.
Fast, drink and repeat.

I was not thrilled completely horrified to get a call from my midwives' office two days ago, informing me that my results on that awful one-hour glucose test were "borderline." Never mind that I've had two normal tests already this pregnancy (and two the last pregnancy, and three the pregnancy before that)...borderline means I need to do the fasting three-hour test on Tuesday.

For the uninitiated, this involves not eating for 14 hours, going to the office, having blood drawn, then drinking 100 mg of what tastes like flat orange soda and trying not to throw up or pass out for the next three hours while they draw your blood three more times (once each hour).

Since SuperSam, my first baby, weighed over ten pounds, they always kind of want to give me gestational diabetes. So far, they have been unsuccessful.

The odd thing is, I'm kind of looking forward to the time by myself in the waiting room. How bad is it that three hours of waiting for blood draws on an empty stomach sort of sounds relaxing? I'll be on twitter and facebook, I'm sure...anyone want to hang out?

Dear Galactica,
I avoided you so long.
Now I'm really hooked.

You know you've been watching too much Battlestar Galactica on Netflix when you start making jokes to the phlebotomist at the midwives' office about her testing your blood to see if you're a Cylon.

They look human now, you know.

Just saying.

Now you're all caught up.
Liberated by Jenna,
I'm all caught up, too.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!