Growing Stuff

 
We’ve got this garden, see, in the corner of our backyard, right? I take absolutely no credit whatsoever in its development, except to say that when Caleb asks about or suggests certain things to put in it, I give him the obligatory "Sure, sounds great, fine, whatever." And as of right now, we’ve got onions, onions, onions, and berries. Granted, most of the berries are still green; just give us a week or two. Caleb and I sampled the 2 lone strawberries that were red–they had to be the single most delicious things I’d ever put in my mouth. Mia’s been dying to try a blueberry, but those are still only half the size of her little pinky fingernail. And our blackberry bushes are going ape. It’s going to be a great summer.
 
Sure, he’s planted other things; some I’m not so thrilled about (okra) and others that I can’t wait for (tomatoes, yellow squash, jalepeno peppers). Last year our garden turned out so many tomatoes and peppers we just couldn’t keep up–until Caleb took it upon himself to learn to "can" things–they should actually call this process "jarring" because that’s what it is–and no, apparently it’s not just little old ladies in West Virginia who do it. And while the pickled okra isn’t exactly my cup of tea, I’ll eat the hell out of some homemade salsa.
 
Caleb spends…a lot of time out in the garden. If he’s not gardening vegetables, then he’s gardening flowers. If he’s not doing that, then he’s mowing the lawn. Or weed-eating something. With him being home everyday, the yard is looking gorgeous. Yesterday, in an attempt to help him out, I tried to weed-eat stuff. I mostly just ate up the little plastic-y do-hickey wire-thingy, and my hands are still numb and my ears are still ringing, but the area around Mia’s playhouse is somewhat trimmed down now. Caleb has forbidden me to touch any more yard machinery, though…and I’m pretty sure being pregnant has nothing to do with it.
 
After I was told to "put the weed-eater down right there and step away", Mia and I decided to relax in her nuclear-orange pool. (The neon-blue pool blew away in a freak windstorm. We looked all over the neighborhood and couldn’t find it anywhere.) I don’t know how long I was out there, but I am fried to a crisp today. My face is red, and of course, Caleb, Mia and Cheyenne are all bronzed to golden perfection. I have a check-up today with New Doctor; after the lecture that I’m sure to get, I’ve got a laundry list of questions and complaints but mostly complaints:
  1. Contractions–they suck. Hard. Make them go away.
  2. Feet–mine are starting to swell up like balloons. Freakishly big balloons.
  3. Water Breakage–highly over-rated. Can’t you just break it for me? (if it hasn’t already broken on its own, and no, I can’t tell.)
  4. Hands–my left one is constantly going numb for no reason and I don’t like it.
  5. Eating–I’m a big fan of it. I’d like to do more of it. But I feel like puking even after the teensiest meal. I couldn’t even handle my customary chocolate syrup with ice-cream last night.
  6. Peeing–are you authorized to send me home with catheder and a baggie taped to my leg?
  7. My butt–it hurts.
  8. My legs–they hurt, too.
  9. My back–don’t even get me started.

Well, what do you know? I couldn’t make it to 10. Hmm. I’m sure I’ll come up with something by tomorrow. Unless, of course, we have the baby today. In which case, just because it’s Cinco de Mayo (Happy Cinco de Mayo, by the way), I’ll feel compelled to name him Diego for real, and then expect people to believe that we’re really not Mexican. Really. Not that there’s anything wrong with being Mexican. Or Native American. Or Sicilian. Or anything else people assume my husband and daughter are. When Mia was a baby, everywhere we went, people asked "Is her daddy Mexican or Indian?" A lady at the library got downright pissed off when I told her "No, honestly, she just has brown hair and brown eyes. She just does for no reason."

Oh, yeah, and speaking of judgemental people–IS IT A CRIME FOR A PREGNANT WOMAN TO BUY BEER? Do you see a pregnant woman with a 12-pack at the grocery store and automatically assume she’s going to chug the entire thing by herself or something? If I were drinking and I ran out of drink, a pregnant woman seems like the most logical person to make a beer-run. I’ve been the chosen one the past 3 weekends–and everytime I stand in line with that box of Keystone, I get these God-awful glares of disapproval–little old ladies, cashiers, drunk-off-their-ass construction workers–their eyes all seem to say "Doom on You"…O, those horrible, evil eyes of utter hatred and death…

…Please, people. I’m too busy burning myself with sun to worry about getting trashed on cheap beer. Besides, it’s not like I could keep it down even if I wanted to…which, God, at this point, do I ever want to. That said, I think I’m going to let Caleb handle the beer-buying until I’m a little less with-child.

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About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

5 responses to “Growing Stuff

  • Joell

    Mornin’ chica!  Hope "New Doctor" treats you well today and answers all your questions and gives you a sticker and a lollipop…all after your lecture of course. 😉 
     
    With my first pregnancy, I had what they call a ‘high tear’, so I wasn’t sure if my water had broken or not.  It was like this…woke up in the middle of the night to pee (as per usual when you are 9 mos preg) and even though I was done peeing, the trickle trickle didn’t stop.  So, I woke up hubby and said, the very cliche "It’s time" and off we went.  My contractions didn’t start till a few minutes later.  Second baby, total opposite.  Had the crazy explosive pop and then gush of the breaking water after I had been having contractions for a bit.  That was FREAKY, let me tell you.  Don’t you hate when other people tell you their pregnancy stories??
     
    I wish my hubby loved working in the yard like Caleb does.  I mowed last week and weed-eated (is that even a word??).  I don’t mind it so much though.  Now I’ve just gotta get me some flowers set out and get it all looking summery and pretty!!  Love this time of year!
     
    Hang in there sweetie, Diego will be here soon. 😉
     
    PS Don’t be hatin’, but my niece was born yesterday afternoon. 

  • C.C.

    The beer story makes me laugh!  When we lived with my mother during my pregnancyI used to get sent to CVS for wine.  The dirty looks abounded!  After one visit, I noticed they had not rung up the bottle at the advertised sale price.  So, back I went a couple of days later, massively pregnant, to make a fuss about the incorrect charge.  The manager looked horrified the whole time I was trying to explain the problem.

  • barnyardmama

    This is good!   I’ve heard that the not-eating thing comes right before you deliver.  Your body is purging to get ready for the big moment.  As I’m fond of saying over here, not that I actually got to that stage, but I’ve read about it!
     
    KM

  • Michael

    I think people would have been more approving if they saw you purchasing a nice bottle of wine?! 😉  Liquor snobs are everywhere!!  We are anxiously awaiting Diego’s arrival!

  • C.C.

    May we see some garden pictures?  Please?

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