Tony is being a bigwig tonight at a Washington Society of CPAs event where he will glad-hand the hot shots of the accounting industry as the youngest (at 30! What a stodgy group) board member. He gets to stay in a hotel, always a luxury, tonight. Even though I lived in my parents' hotel for six months during my senior year of high school while our house was being repaired after a fire, I still haven't lost that sense of giddy delight over staying in a hotel. Sheets I didn't wash! Clean floors! A television!
We are headed to Ohio soon for a friend's wedding (on 6-7-8, ha!) and I am debating the merits of staying in a local B&B or a Holiday Inn Express. Right now, I am leaning HIE, if only because I know there won't be any weird smells to deal with there. But Bed & Breakfasts are so much fun, and you truly meet the most interesting people. Not to mention the fact that they usually have killer food. Still, I think we will go with the chain hotel because we are staying one night and most of the day will be spent en route to or from the airport and at the wedding. We are taking a red-eye (as soon as we book, shame on us-- speaking of, what's with air travel? Inconvenient times and horrible prices, blech!) Friday night because Tony has an all-day commitment, and then returning on Sunday. We are nuts. The things you do for your friends...
My dad and brother are here for the week, and boy am I exhausted! I had forgotten, living with just Tony as I do, how many dishes it takes to feed four people a meal each night! Not to mention groceries! I am really looking forward to our kitchen remodel so that I can have more space for more cooking utensils (it's a pain to wash after every meal) and food, so boxes of Cheerios aren't just sitting on the floor. I suppose this is good practice for when we become a family of more than two, but still, I would be ecstatic if I could just get others to put their dishes directly into the dishwasher instead of stacking them in the sink. Seriously, how hard is it to rinse and place in the dishwasher? Evidence points to it being nigh impossible.
And finally, a baby update: I am FAT. Oh, lordy, I can hardly stand any of my clothes. But will I break down and buy maternity clothes yet? No! Other girls do not even begin to show at 12 1/2 weeks-- I refuse to be the fat one (even if I am). Instead, I wear pants unbuttoned and skirts very high on my waist where I am still thin-ish, if my ribcage counts as thin-ish (oh yeah, that's hot). We have a doctor's appointment on Monday and we should be able to hear a heartbeat - unless something has gone horribly, horribly wrong. Which, of course, I worry about. You know, one more worry at this point feels like nuthin. Here is a happy list of things I have worried about today:
- Will I flip out at work because all of the frustrations of the past many months are just too much to handly anymore? (likeliness: high)
- Is the baby still alive?
- Will the baby have issues, mentally, physically, developmentally? (I won't list the possibilities, because they are literally endless, but you get the idea. I worry about them all individually)
- Will we have enough money to do the kitchen remodel (a desperate dream), buy a car suitable for baby and dog, and raise a child? (this worry makes my indigestion worse, and it's already pretty bad)
- Will I ever get my energy back?
- Will I be a bad mother? (all signs point to yes... look what kind of person I am! Craziness quotient: high)
- Will I get way fatter?
- Will I be able to get skinny again, and be at least a shadow of the relatively attractive girl I was before?
- Will my baby be a giant? (friends of ours just gave birth to a 9 lb 3 oz, 21-incher of a boy!)
- Cloth or disposable? (which one makes me a better person?)
- Will my eclectic decorative style give this kid a complex? (no cutesy baby rooms for this family-- we're all spaz, all the time)
- Will I have to have a cesarean section and then hate myself for all time because my mom, Tony's mom, and Tony's sister were all somehow able to do it the natural way whilst I might be inadequate? (And THANKS, doc, for telling me that I have suffered these giant hips all my life, even had them called "childbirth hips," but that they don't actually have anything to do with how well I'll be able to shoot a kid out and that I might be screwed and deliver surgically anyhow. Awesome)
- Will my dignity be compromised by this pregnancy? (I don't do embarrassment well-- I tend to hate myself for days on end)
Oh, goodness, I should stop... I am tired now anyway, and hungry, so it is time for dinner and then bed. Maybe a nap and then bed.