counting sleeps is a joke when you can't sleep

hurgle burgle. survival of the merriest. lord please protect me from your holiday season.

hey, wanna add stress to the celebrations? get pregnant and homeless. well, as the queen points out, we have a home. we just don't get into it until the 27th. and there is a plethora (are a plethora?) of lovely people offering us places to stay. but we both agree it was actually easier to drive hank around than to haul our stuff in and out of people's lovely homes. hank, however, is not equipped for minus twenty celsius. and hey, the people are lovely. they really are. stop weeping at night, sista.

one thing that's been nice: for some reason, the rules of waiting til christmas are completely out the window. i'm sure the queen blames me, but i say he started it, since he bought my presents along the way; the gorgeous coat in newfoundland, sweet (and comfy!) cowboy boots in louisiana... since we've been back i've engaged him in opening his presents from me: a motivational zombie t-shirt and the complete recordings of robert johnson on vinyl. then he surprised me the other day with a one-piece long john (the pants-only long johns have tight elastic bands that bother my internal houseguest) and now i am merry and warm.

my folks gave us a slow-cooker (which is awesome, since one of the gnome home guests torched the queen's. he was sad. now he can make more irish stew that smells really bad but tastes good. i don't know how that works and i don't want to. i will just eat it and try not to smell it) and mom knit me a shrug that fits over the belly with that acrylic wool that's really soft. this is a benefit especially now, since my skin has become ridiculously sensitive and last night i was up for three hours before i realised it was the bed sheet that was making me itchy. it's a perfectly reasonable bed sheet, and i have never had this problem before. i am one of those people who likes itchy wool. but anyway. once i solved that problem, i could sleep and it was a very big relief because i was going crazy.

the wife's mom, sweetie that she is, gave us some coffee and chocolate. oh sweet heaven. that is exactly perfect. we visited with the queen's brother and got sweets (and a great supper. they always feed us too much). they have one of those quintessential homes and families that seems like the kind of families they make christmas movies about. they make it look easy but i know it's not, so i watch them for tips on having a peaceful family life. we never 'catch them at a bad time' even when we drop by unannounced. their three children play together and never need more than an occasional remonstration. they have an old, evil cat that skulks around, which is the one thing that isn't holiday special (that would be a long-haired persian or a fluffy orange tabby or something). but they are also really friendly and non-judgmental, and i just like them, you know? clearly, somewhere inside of me, this presents a paradox. somewhere inside of me i think they're too nice to like, if that makes sense. i guess this is a good time to let go of the judgments i formed when i was counter-culture for reasons of insecurity and poverty, as opposed to choice. the counter-culture that i am now is not based on external cues, but rather, behavioural cues. there are a lot of people who look like "them" but act like us. it's still black and white, it's just not easy to see. there are actually really nice people out there who aren't poor and dressed in black. yes, it's true. and i knew this, but... anyway.

i think this is one of those rambling posts; i am piecing together my sanity by recounting my days. i am going off on a tangent to bring back my peace of mind. i am barfing it all up. i would apologize, but hey - you didn't buy the book, right? right. sorry i am not mimi smartypants. i am sista seatofthepants and my fly is undone. actually, i haven't worn pants with a fly in months.

so yeah. in between visiting people for christmas and visiting people because i am moving out of the city, we are changing addresses with institutions and hooking up utilities. and i still need to pee every hour and eat every two. the midwife visit was alright - my iron is a little low, and you have to meet a certain minimum of iron to have a home birth, because you lose so much in birthing that they need you to have bigger stores to prevent becoming symptomatic; fainting, not being able to get up, etc. so i have been chugging nettle tea, eating kale and steak, and being threatened cheerfully with liver by the queen. we start seeing the midwife every two weeks now instead of every month, and we got our "home-birthing" list of weird and creepy stuff to get. a rubber syringe to suction the baby if necessary. uh, okay.

i am tired. and usually at this time of year, a cup of eggnog and rum make me feel better. cue sullen pouting. ah well. all things considered, it's going alright. my baby is healthy, i am keeping up the immune system, and we have a home to move into. blessings, right? stressful little blessings. may your stress be blessful. amen.