"It's not easy being a mother. If it were easy, fathers would do it." *

Oh people. My brain has decided it’s time for this parasi—er, baby to win.

I spent HOURS yesterday formatting an APA bibliography for a new client, only to realize at 10 pm that she needed it in MLA. Which incidentally is NOT a format I can do in my sleep. And her fellowship proposal is due tomorrow. I nearly vomited. I am terrified to hear from her. No news is good news, and all that. Fortunately, she had already done most of the hard work and really did not even need me, except for some hand-holding. Needless to say, I will NOT be charging her.

But it’s time for me to put my editing empire on hold and concentrate on getting through this pregnancy and those sleep-deprived first months without losing any old clients. Someday my brain will function again. I think.

In the meantime, the boys are in their new room, more or less. No bunkbeds yet, which means Terzo is still in a room by himself. But we are moving the office/computer room upstairs, as soon as the cable company comes to move the data line, and H is moving his bed downstairs into the smaller back bedroom where his guitars can live comfortably in the closet year-round, and the baby will sleep in the front bedroom, when s/he gets around to actually sleeping in his/her own room. I am recycling and Freecycling and throwing stuff out, and giving stuff to Goodwill, and generally just clearing clutter. Maternity clothes – mostly gone. Class notes from undergrad AND grad school – gone. Reams of crinkled paper and used coloring books – gone.

Oh, and I did ten loads of laundry yesterday. I am woman, hear me whimper.

On a happier note, I have been reading some awesome books, dudes.

What I Loved - Siri Hustvedt. This book took an unexpected turn at the end, but it worked out all right. Mostly I loved the first half, and read the second half to find out what happened to everyone. It was worth it.

The Solace of Leaving Early - Haven Kimmel. It would be hyperbolic for me to say that Kimmel is one of today’s most underrated writers. But my personal opinion is that it would be verging on truth. Her writing is considered (without being painful or self-conscious), intelligent, and multilayered. Her characters are wonderfully real. I look forward to reading anything she writes next, and to what she’ll be writing in twenty years. Like David Mitchell, her early work is exciting and inventive (Kimmel isn’t as quirky as Mitchell, though), and I can’t wait to see what they come up with after a decade or two of writing under their belts.

The Ivy Chronicles - This was a throwaway I picked up at Goodwill for a buck, about a woman who launches a kindergarten-prep business for the millionaires of Manhattan. It was funny and light and entertaining. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday night.

I am still plodding along with What Was She Thinking? (Notes on a Scandal), and read almost half of the quiet but engrossing Septembers of Shiraz last night (after the MLA/APA debacle was fixed). I have some requests waiting at the library, and just requested Philip Pullman’s Sally Lockhart series, too. I have to have books on hand for when I go into labor – gotta have stuff to read at the hospital. I am as excited for this hospital time as I used to be for vacations to the shore or to Paris. Ok, well maybe not Paris.

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* Dorothy (Bea Arthur), on "The Golden Girls"

Anyone who has ever slipped a foot inside a warm, cozy Ugg boot cannot dispute the comfort factor.*

I did it. Just like everyone else. (See, Mom? Off the bridge I go...)

I bought a pair of Uggs - well, in my case, Uggs knock-offs.
Steve Madden, to be precise.
On clearance at Famous Footwear, less ten bucks with my January coupon.
Beige, with a sort of sweater top on top of the typical suede foot part.

I thought, Wouldn't it be nice to remove even a single step from my crazed morning routine? There will be no searching for socks - just pull on my boots and off we go. As if I am that sporty...

And dudes, they might be sorta ugly but ohmigod, my feet are in heaven.

I was exchanging H's sneakers - does anyone else act as their husband's personal shopper, or is just me? And so I look at these as my commission. Yeah, that's it.

Dudes, I put them on this morning and haven't taken them off yet. I may sleep in them.
And I despise shoes, and socks even more. I wear my Tevas and Crocs so far into winter, it's a wonder my toes are not routinely frostbitten.
So these ugly frumpy boots? The PERFECT solution. Ahhhh.

Color me conformist.

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*Link

“I don't have pet peeves, I have whole kennels of irritation” *

Everybody else (if by everybody else, I mean two other bloggers - oops) is doing it, so why not? (And yes, Mom, frankly, if everyone else were jumping off a bridge, I WOULD seriously consider it. So there. )

25 things that shit me to tears

1. Whining
2. Walmart
3. Old people at the grocery store who stand in the middle of the aisle, reviewing their coupons or whatever the hell they are doing IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GODDAMN AISLE
4. Baggers who put my bananas in with my canned goods
5. Applicator tampons
6. Birth control
7. Sock seams
8. Ultra low-rise jeans
9. Dealing with my contact lenses
10. White chocolate
11. Not having any time to myself
12. The dog
13. Babysitters who cancel at the last minute
14. Bras
15. My car’s lack of power locks
16. Hummers
17. Mitt Romney
18. Artificial sweeteners
19. Trendy books
20. Those advertising circulars that get tossed onto my lawn at least once a day
21. Jehovah’s Witnesses and/or anyone else who rings my doorbell to solicit, proselytize, or try to sell me something
22. Diaper tabs that rip off
23. Antibacterial Kleenex
24. People who don’t squeeze out the kitchen sink sponge
25. Microsoft Office 2007

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* Whoopi Goldberg
[I am sure I have used this quote before, but I don't really care, it's so fabulous.]

"What an excellent day for an exorcism!" *

The boys are out playing in our E. coli-festering mudpit of a backyard. Ok, maybe it’s not quite that bad, but until we get the fence rebuilt, the dog poops back there (which I do clean up every morning at the least, plus right after he’s gone out on the warm days), and we have NO grass because you wouldn’t have any grass either if you had three- um, make that four – hockey-mad males in your family. And it’s been raining and warm, and the Appalachian-themed dirt has become Appalachian-themed mud, ringed with the composting remnants of the magnolia tree’s leaves. I made the boys wear their Crocs so I could just hose them off when they came in. I would take a picture and show you the yard, but it’s frankly too embarrassing.

I ate half a pound of chocolate-covered raisins last night – I was reading Siri Hustvedt’s excellent What I Loved and chewing my nails and bloodying my cuticles. I decided chewing raisins was preferable to rendering my fingertips useless. But that many raisins? Regardless of whether they are coated in chocolate or not? Equals severe heartburn and tummy distress. I am just recovering, after power-napping for the past twenty minutes underneath the laundry piles (where it’s warm) on my bed. Additionally, the fourteen pounds I have lost this pregnancy are going to pack right back on with a vengeance if I continue eating chocolate-covered anything in this manner. And we do NOT want that. At least I don’t. What I do want is to read Hustvedt’s other books now. And since I took care of all the important errands on Saturday, like renewing my library card, I think I’ll scoot over to the website and request them right now.

I am concurrently reading Zoe Heller’s What Was She Thinking? Notes on a Scanda which is ok – I am sort of waiting for it to pick up; and Haven Kimmel’s The Solace of Leaving Early, which is so far just as interesting and engrossing as her other books. I have a chapter or two left in Terra Incognita, which I enjoyed very much but feel like I have been reading FORever.

Next up: a novel I picked up because (I can’t believe I am going to admit this) I liked the cover: Justin Evans’s A Good and Happy Child. I am hoping it is not just going to be a throwaway thriller. But check out those demons – don’t they bode well?




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* Pazuzu, in "The Exorcist"

"Without enough sleep, we all become tall two-year-olds." *

I have been laughing my ass off reading these.

Have also been entertained and moved by these and am compiling my own 365 list at the moment.

Last night I read straight through Sarah Addison Allen's Garden Spells. Think a slightly more contemporary Practical Magic. (Yes, it WAS almost that good.) Go read it.

Also - a very nice person (I forget who, blame it on placenta brain) emailed me personally a while ago offering me their espresso pot that they no longer use, and I neglected to reply because I am an ill-mannered person who was raised by wolves. If you are even still reading, generous person, I would LOVE your espresso pot, in hopes of perhaps saving some of the cash I spend profligately at Starbucks. And if you are still so thoughtfully inclined, email me again, and I swear I will not only reply but be very very grateful. Thank you!

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* JoJo Jensen, Dirt Farmer Wisdom