not quite the souvenir I would have picked

So, Dan's home -- but he's sick. He walked in the door and I immediately noticed he was stuffy. He attributes that to sitting outside in the cold for hours watching a Yankees game on Tuesday night. As the night went on, he started complaining of a stomach ache. By the time we went up to bed, he was sort of moaning and shifting around and doing that sighing thing. You know, the sighing that screams, "Hey! You might puke!"

If you know me at all, you know of my absurd fear of vomiting. This fear doesn't just extend to me, but to others as well. Tell me that your stomach hurts, and immediately I'm sweaty, queasy, and fretting. If you've actually vomited, watch out -- I might Lysol every surface in the house (in addition to sweating and fretting). My mind screams, "Did I touch anything they touched? What's that pain in my abdomen? OH GOD!!!"

In a show of my skill at being the most unsympathetic wife ever, I hopped out of bed after the second sigh and practically ran downstairs with Olivia, where she slept in her swing for 4 hours and I dozed on the couch. I say dozed because my mind was swimming with thoughts of kissing him (aka The Fateful Virus Transfer) when he arrived home. Nooooo! He must be really sick, because he stayed home today. I can count on one hand the number of times he's been ill since I met him. Eeek. I'm hoping he contains his germs to the upper level of the house, because thanks to our triage room (the guest room is stocked with diapers/wipes, outfits for Olivia, and a bed), I could live down here for a week.

Off to find the Clorox wipes and Lysol ...

konnichiwa!

My blog is being read in Japan! Ok, ok -- it's my sister, who's there visiting a friend. But still. I have an international readership! ;) I wonder if she'll let me post her karaoke videos here. Ha!

Two more days ...

Dan is on another training trip for work, this time in NYC. Instead of enjoying it, it sounds like he's pretty homesick. I don't blame him -- I would be miserable being away from Olivia overnight, never mind for several days or a week. He's going to a Yankees game tomorrow night, weather permitting, which will check another of the MLB stadiums off his list. I wish I could be there with him.

Yesterday wasn't too bad -- I picked up some junk food (shocking, I know) around 8:30 p.m. and headed to my parents' house. They entertained her and I was able to eat using both hands, a rare treat. I realized about halfway through my burger and fries that I was bent over and shoveling the food in ... sort of like someone who's used to their meals being interrupted might do. I wonder how I got into that habit!

Today we trekked over to Target, this time going to a different location because I feel like I'm at the other one nearly every day. And since I ran into the ex-husband the last time I was there, well, let's say that I wasn't all that keen to return. I bought a bunch of hangers for the closet in the hopes that I might be able to get all my pre-maternity clothes out of the Space Bags and hung up this week. I also got some safer baby wash/shampoo and lotion after consulting the girls on one of the message boards I'm on and the Skin Deep Cosmetic Safety Database. The Johnson and Johnson stuff we were using was rated a 4, meaning a moderate hazard. I got some California Baby bodywash/shampoo that was rated 1. Between this, BPA in bottles, soy products causing issues, organic vs. non-organic milk, and even play sand dangers ... ah, there's a lot to think/worry about. I'm trying -- though if you know me, you know it's a difficult feat -- not to panic and to just make small changes.

Speaking of milk, I should have bought some when we were out and it wasn't raining. Now we have none, but the thought of dragging her out in the elements just so I can indulge a cereal craving doesn't sound too appealing. I might have to eat some Oreo Cakesters instead. Healthy!

the eternal question

Let the baby sleep, or get up to pee?
Let the baby sleep, or go fix some food?

It's almost 8 p.m. She's been asleep in my arms since 5:30. I'm sitting here with my legs crossed, a growly belly, and a numb arm. But at least she's sleeping!

laughing

While I have time to post, I should note that I think Olivia sort of laughed today. The first time was this morning while looking at my brother-in-law, who is a Baby Whisperer extraordinaire and has no problem with making all sorts of funny faces and noises to amuse her. Then later at home, I held her up to the mirror and she did this little shy face and then what sounded a lot like a giggle. I tried to get it on video, but of course she didn't care to repeat the performance.

We've been wondering when she would laugh, so hopefully the gut-busting belly laughs are on the way!

where is my mind?

I used to be such a productive, organized person. I could rarely sit still long enough to watch TV unless I was also surfing the internet, knitting, and/or flipping through a magazine at the same time. Nesting while pregnant was great fun for me. I used the month off of work before O's arrival to make endless to-do lists, run around town doing errands, and organize around the house.

Now? Nothing's getting done. It's hard for me to find time to get on here and type up posts sometimes, and I usually end up doing it one handed. I don't want to let down my 10 frequent readers, you know!

I put some underwear in the washing machine ... oh, I think it was at least a week ago. No, over a week ago -- it was when D was out of town last. I managed to get them in the dryer that very same day thanks to my mom being here. So why is it I'm reduced to picking through the dregs of my underwear drawer? You know, the ill-fitting, stretched out, maybe even hole-y pairs that stay lodged in the back in case of emergency. Because I'm not sure where my underwear are. I know I didn't take them out of the dryer and bring them up from the basement. Could all of them really have disappeared into the abyss known for sucking up stray socks? I keep hoping that in a miraculous laundry miracle, I'll open my drawer and there they'll be, all clean and folded and plentiful. So far, no such luck.

Other things that are making me twitchy:

• Mail is stacked up everywhere. It seems like too daunting of a task most days, separating things into piles of File Away Somewhere One Of These Days, Recycle Eventually When You Happen To Remember To Put Out The Recycling Bin Or Drive It To The YMCA, and Shred So That Creepy People Who Prowl Recycling Bins Won't Open Credit Cards In Your Name Or Stalk You.
• I've had a recipe on the counter for three weeks (for lactation cookies - mmm, doesn't that sound positively delish?) and have yet to be able to bake.
• The water softener isn't working correctly, causing the kitchen sink to be all filmy with hard water stains. Accidentally coming into contact with the surface of it makes my skin crawl.
• In general, the house is a mess. Socks (both baby and adult) litter the living room floor, surfaces need to be dusted, and the general crowding of our main living spaces with things like a play mat, bouncy seat, and swing sometimes makes me think I've moved into Babies R Us.

It could be worse, though -- I could have to clean this place up enough to have a housekeeper come over and clean it. ;)

a new twist on basic black

Yesterday I threw on a black t-shirt -- classic, comfy, and one of the very few pieces in my wardrobe that actually fits these days. Within an hour or two of putting it on, I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was horrified at what I saw: big wet spots on both shoulders from drool and droplets of milk in a splatter pattern down my front, all complimented by a smattering of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese stains (the result of trying to eat left-handed while holding a sleeping baby). I remember the days when I could dash out of the house without having to thoroughly inspect myself in the mirror. I never did that, of course, as I've never been one to go out in public in sweatpants or without at least a hint of makeup.

Pre-Olivia, I used to laugh at the Suave "Motherhood" commercial (go to http://www.suave.com/, click Our Story, then Advertising, and watch "Anthem") and think that could never be me. Oh, but it can. And it is. Minus the dog and multiple kids, of course.