My New Baby, Part Deux

Heyas,

Well, the naming situaton resolved itself, finally. I really, really did not wanna call that boy Max. Naming animals is a very picky process for me, as I'm firmly convinced that animals should have names that fit them, as well as hold some meaning for their human companions. Any road, I was having a fun night with D tonight...just trying to figure out what the new furball is, exactly by entering various dog breeds into Google images and trying to find puppy pix that resemble him. I mean, he's obviously a bona fide Heinz (y'know, 57 varieties? Yes, I'm a dork), but we finally decided he's mostly Golden Retriever (with his coloring, head shape, and fluffy coat) mixed with Border Collie (ears, muzzle, and general attitude and intelligence). Found some pictures of Golden/Border mixes that look just like him and the other two in the litter.

So...plus side, both breeds tend to be incredibly sweet, smart, and loyal, as well as great family dogs. Down side....Border Collies are very intense. Very, VERY intense. He'll probably require a lot of stimulation and entertainment. Which will be good when I have the Imp to run around with him, but will require me to become more active than I currently am. Which isn't a bad thing, now that I think about it. Hehe, can't wait to take the little guy to the beach!

Any road, so after our totally scientific and not at all subjective diagnosis of what his parents were, we're clicking through a website that literally lists thousands of dog names and calling out random ones that appeal to us.

Milo
Lancelot
Radar
Finley

And then all of a sudden, I come upon it. THE name. The perfect name that suits him just right, fits ME just perfectly, and is so blindingly excellent that I can't believe I had to find it on a website instead of it occuring to me right off the bat.

So, my new baby's name is officially: Tarot.

Score :)

On the Imp-front, I'm going to make an appointment with my OBGYN on Monday...I'm going to go ahead and start my paperwork with Midwest. I'm not sure when exactly I'm going to try again. I might end up waiting 'til next summer after all...it would give me a chance to get some excess weight off (I'm healthy, but I'm a very large woman...it sure as hell wouldn't hurt anything). Plus, I think I need a checkup anyway...I've had the weirdest sensations in my pelvic/abdominal region lately. Things just feel...tight sometimes. Like there's something hard in my guts...but things don't feel hard when I press. It happens frequently enough that it feels weird to sleep on my stomach anymore (and I'm an avowed stomach-sleeper)--not painful, just strange. Weirder still, I've been having the most bizarre gas pangs when I turn on my side...strongest I've ever felt in my life. Last night, it was like someone had reached inside my guts and was walking their fingers up and down my lower ribs and hip...like hard. I'm kind of worried, actually. My sister has IBS and was diagnosed with Crohn's this year. *sigh* That's the last thing I need to deal with right now.

If it ain't one thing, it's another, eh? At least I'll have a cute puppy to snuggle with soon.

My New Baby

Heyas,

No...not THAT baby. I am still working logistics on the Imp-front (and kind of getting pissed off at my possible KD, 'cause he keeps joking around with me--'you know, between the two of us, the kid'll be a picky eater,' but still refusing to give me a straight answer as to whether or not he'll do it...and I know in KD-land, that's pretty much guyspeak for 'I really don't want to' and I totally understand and respect that and am making other arrangements anyway...but a simple yes or no would suffice. I hate coy bullshit.)

But ANYWAY....

Imp, my love, you are going to grow up around animals from the very first. Mommy is a bit of a 'rescuer' and has two cats that she's adopted over the years. Well, all right, Arwen just appeared on Mommy's front porch and adopted her, but Mommy went to the animal shelter for Micah. And there's our family dog, Lucky, but he lives with Grandma and is most likely not going to be around long enough for you to remember, as we got him when Mommy was in seventh grade. Incidentally, Lucky will be the gold standard by which Mommy measures all other dogs in our lives. Best. Dog. Ever.

That said, though, the other night, Grandma was driving home from her job and came upon a truly heartbreaking sight. Three puppies, abandoned on a busy highway, miles away from civilization, busily tearing at a deer carcass someone had hit. Grandma talks a hard game when it comes to animals, but she's a softie. The pups came home in her car...muddy and bloody as they were. Two were adopted out easily enough, but one they could not find a person for.

So, of course, Mommy stepped up.

I like the idea of you growing up with a dog and by the time you're here, he'll be trained and out of the underfoot all the time stage, but young enough for you to have many years of roughhousing with.

And it doesn't hurt that he's cute as a button, very cuddly and easygoing according to my sister, and already showing signs of the kind of intelligence that makes Lucky such a great dog. The vet puts him at about six weeks and he's absolutely adorable.

But damned if I can think of a name for him. The vet says he's some kind of Golden Retriever mix (though I think Yellow Lab is more likely). Ordinarily, I'd pull from whatever TV show I happen to be insanely devoted to at the time (ie, Arwen was adopted during my Lord of the Rings phase)...but nothing's jumping out at me now. I hate, hate, HATE common names and am not overly fond of human names for animals, either (though oddly, he kind of looks like a Max to me, which gets strikes on both counts).

So far I've got a list that looks something like this (and having said I really don't like human names for animals, it amuses me to no end that this little guy keeps inspiring them):

Max

Remy

Sylar (I do like Heroes, even if the show has lost its damn fool mind this season)

Jasper (roomie is a Twilight fan)

Jinx

Reid

Gideon

Loki

Riley

Quinn

Harper

Shay

I really don't want to name him Max. Everyone has a dog named Max. 'Tis annoying.

But isn't he sweet?

To Tammy....

'Cause I know she drifts through here sometimes, and I love her dearly for it and all her just general wonderfulness, and because I can't seem to figure out how to make google ID me to post on her blog...

I just wanted to add another voice expressing how very sorry I am that you're going through so much. You've been on mind almost daily since I read your post about what happened. I don't pray in the traditional sense and I think it's pretty obvious that our spiritual perspectives are somewhat divergent, but for you and Mark I've been praying with every fiber of my being that this will someday (SOON) be okay for you and you will be holding your peanut.

Lovies,
Elfgirl

You Know What? This Elf Says She Makes Her Own Destiny

Heyas,

You know what Universe? I'm having my baby. I don't care how long it takes, or how many other BFD's I have to endure, or what paths you lead me down...I'm having my baby. My Imp is going to be so loved and so cherished and I will be a Kick. Ass. Mom. That was a hell of a rollercoaster you put me on this summer, and I hated damn near every minute of it for the uncertainty, the weird feelings, the freakin' NAUSEA for a month straight, and I loved damn near every minute because for just a little while I tasted a bit of what it'll be like when I have my Imp. And that's worth anything.

So there. You messed with my plans a little...and I'm sorry to say that for a little while I forgot that I'm pretty damn good at rolling with whatever punches you throw my way. I'm having my baby. And maybe it won't be all neat and well-planned and deliberate. But it'll be me and my Imp and that'll be enough. I will make it work, and I will make it work well.

And I believe that there are forces guiding what happens, and some things may or may not be meant to be. But I also believe that I myself am a proactive force...I do not have to sit here and let things wash over me. I am ready for my Imp. I am ready to love and care for and be responsible for my Imp. I don't believe that I would feel these things if there was not a path somewhere that would bring us together. I'm having my baby.

Now, witness me going out and making that happen.


So, yeah, now all I have to do is join in a funky dance around a dining room table and I'll have met the girl-power-oh-hell-YEAH quota on the Lifetime Movie Event scale. But you know what? I'm tired of being depressed and wishy-washy over this whole thing. The BFD fiasco and then all that shit with NW Andrology (and some personal stuff that I just don't wanna talk about online) really messed with my head for a while. I see signs in things, you know? And I really thought that all this was a sign that the Universe just wasn't down with my plans.

And then I remembered that that's not the attitude that I've ever approached anything with. Fall down seven times, get up eight; what does not kill us only makes us stronger; etc, etc, etc. I've never in my life just rolled over when something doesn't go exactly the way I wanted it to...just tilted my head and looked for the new perspective that'll get me where I'm going. So the summer birth thing didn't work out...I guess that just means I'm meant to be one of those Moms who throws awesome classroom birthdays. A Halloween baby...how appropriate would that be?

So yeah, I'm going for this. Taking a couple of months to explore options...I actually asked a friend of mine if he would be willing to be a KD and he's mulling it over. If that doesn't work out, I think I'll go with Midwest, and maybe just go all out and do IUI this time. But I'm going to have my baby. Full speed ahead and damn the torpedos.

Things this Elf is looking forward to: Thanksgiving! Home, home, home, home, home!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: State-mandated writing tests that require seventh graders to type an entire essay in seventy minutes when they don't start 'keyboarding' classes until high school.
Pretty boy of the moment: Matthew Gray Gubler (aka, Dr. Spencer Reid on Criminal Minds)...which really blows my mind. He looks almost anorexic...I desperately want to take him home and feed him a proper Italian dinner...or six.

But yeah, afterwards, I'd totally hit that. ;)

Adventures in Getting One's Head On Straight...

Heyas,



I'd like to take a moment and just say....Tammy, I want to be you when I grow up.



Well, maybe minus the interest in Precious Moments, 'cause frankly they kind of creep me out a little. ;)

In Lowe's of All Places

Heyas,

So, the red haze of utter fury that had enveloped me last week has lifted somewhat. I'm still pretty convinced that NW is incompetent at best and underhandedly spiteful at worst...Marina emails me with a thoroughly polite message that basically boils down to they have no idea how someone could've been looking right at my file and not told me that it had been declared closed. And also that they HADN'T filed a police report on me because the dewar arrived the day after they had called about it and so they didn't pursue it. Also didn't have any idea how someone could've told me that it HAD been filed. Also, best of luck, don't contact us again.

Call me picky, but I fail to see how a company that appears to have ONE customer service rep answering the phone (at least, I talked to the same person every time I called) could have absoutely no idea about what the guy was saying.

Whatever.

I'm still angry, but there's nothing I can do now. I'll look into Midwest, but there still remains the fact that I made a very strict pact with myself that if I wasn't pregnant by September, I'd put it off another year. Stupidly, I didn't realize how hard that would really be.

Unfortunately, it hit me in a very public place today.

I'd said that a part of me always suspected that something was wrong with the South Africa BFP (hereafter called BFD...Big Fucking Disappointment), but well, Imp...the rest of Mommy had gotten pretty used to the idea that she was going to be a Mommy. And I was out with Auntie D today, and we stopped in Lowe's...and they already have their Christmas stuff up. And Mommy had to laugh, because it's not even Halloween, yet...but then she started roaming the Christmas aisles because she loves all things Christmas. The ornaments, the lights, those little Christmas Villages you can build out of models that light up and move...she can spend hours just looking at them. She even found some adorable ornaments based on the claymation "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" movie, which she loves.

And standing there in that aisle with a plastic Rudolph in one hand and a plastic Clarice in the other it suddenly hits me that I would've been picking out the Imp's stocking this year, and everyone would've given me baby stuff for Christmas and we would've been so excited that the Imp would be here next Christmas. This would've been the last Christmas before I went from "I" to "We." And the one failed try is nothing next to what some of the women I've come to know have been through...I'm not even sure if it was an actual miscarriage or a chemical pregnancy. I know that I don't have much room to complain...but it still hurts. And it hurt even more to think that because of someone else's "I just don't know what happened" I wouldn't be able to try again until next year.

So there I am, Rudolph in one hand, Clarice in the other, crying my eyes out in Lowe's.

I don't want to wait for a whole year. It surprises me how much I don't want to wait...now that I've actually made an attempt, the desire to be a mother is like a living, breathing thing inside of me. I have good, solid reasons for insisting on a summer birth, but it's hard to remember them right now. My sister, C, says I shouldn't wait, that I should just go on trying until I get the Imp...after all, other people don't plan their baby's due date and they're not dropping dead in the streets. Other teachers have done the single mom route and not bothered with timing it for a summer birth.

But I want to get back to Ohio, Imp, so that you can be close to grandparents, cousins, and aunts from the very first. I don't know if it's the brightest thing in the world for me to go into a new job and then go out on maternity leave in my first year. I don't know that I want to put you into daycare or leave you with relatives that young. I just know I want you here, with me.

What should I do?

Universe Says, "Fuck YOU, Elf!"

This is a vent. And a rant. And I'm not going to be polite.

Barring a last minute miracle, I'm out for the next ten months. I have never been so fucking incandescantly furious in my life. NW Andrology can go fuck itself. I'd heard stories about them fucking their customers over, but I hadn't realized they were quite so spiteful about it.

Full disclosure, the start of was my fault. In the whirlwind of getting moved into D's house and getting packed for Africa, I kept forgetting to send their damn dewar back. I ended up mailing it on the day we left, and the freaking FedEx return label was lost somewhere in my move and my stupid town doesn't have a FedEx station anyway, so I sent it UPS. And then I was driving through backroads with no cell signal and on a plane for twenty four hours and then I was in Africa, and I forgot to call them to let them know that the dewar was on its way back. And then I get this email while in Africa saying that they haven't received their dewar and I emailed back with the details of the UPS tracking number and whatnot. Three days later I get a nastier email threatening to file a goddamn police report on me for grand theft! I email back the tracking number again, and the thing was scheduled to arrive the next day, so all was well. I even fucking CALLED them from South fucking Africa to confirm the dewar had arrived safely and get the total of late fees I owed. Couldn't pay it right then, 'cause a charge in the US when I was supposed to be overseas would've shut down my bank account. But I fucking asked them if this would affect my ability to make future orders, and the guy says "There's no notations on your record, but check back later." Fine.

So I get back from Africa, and the first thing I do is pay them. And I ask again, will this affect my ability to make orders? "If we haven't sent you a letter or email, then no, you're fine." And you know what? No letter or email. I got a bill for the late fees, which said nothing about my account.

Called them AGAIN last week, to check donor statuses and asked them AGAIN, because I was feeling paranoid, and was assured AGAIN, that since I paid the late fee, all was well.

Called today to make my order, and am told, "We shut down your account, and oh, by the way, we filed a police report on you."

A fucking TWO MONTHS after I sent the fucking dewar back.

I'm a teacher. A teacher who wants to get a job in another state next year so I can move closer to my family. A police report filed against me is major, major shit on my background check. Oh, but the best part? I called my town and county police AND sheriff's offices and they've never even heard my name before. Or of NW Andrology.

So. NW LIED to me, repeatedly, about the state of my account. LIED to me about filing a police report on me. And oh yeah, since they didn't see fit to inform me that they didn't want my business before I actually tried to order sperm, it's now too late to try to find another bank. I'm due to ovulate this weekend. Fucking. Bastards.

And you know what? I wouldn't have even been all that upset if they'd just been upfront and said they weren't going to deal with me anymore. I broke the terms of the dewar rental, they have every right to refuse me future service. I understand that part. What I don't understand was why I was told, repeatedly, that I'd still be able to order.

Fucking. Bastards.

Throwing It All in the Air and Letting the Universe Sort It Out

Heyas,

Well, after a couple days of hard thought and a few deep conversations with my mother and D, I've decided to try again this cycle for the Imp. I feel like I should be putting more thought into this and taking more time to fully process the fiasco that was the first attempt...but honestly? There is none. It's try now or resign myself to wait a whole other year and I just can't bring myself to do that.

Maybe it's not quite as healthy an approach as I should be taking to this...but I can't really make myself care. I know I'll spend the next year regretting it if I don't do this, and if it doesn't take, I'll know that the Universe just has some other schedule in mind. But at least I'll have tried.

So. One week to pick another donor, buy him, and get him shipped. It's too late to start my Evening Primrose Oil and get any real benefit in the CM, so I went out and bought a bottle of grapefruit juice today, and will chug it down with gritty determination. I really hate that stuff. It always feels like it's eating through my stomach lining.

Called NW to get its available donor list, and have at least narrowed things down to three possibilities--94G, 280, and 434. I think it'll probably go down to 94 and 280...434 would be my last choice of those three. I'm kind of afraid to get my heart set on any of 'em, in case I call next week and they're sold out or something. I'm almost tempted to just be all "I don't give a shit, I just want a baby!"...but I really should put more effort into it than that.

*sigh*

On the plus side, I'm hoping if I can get to that point where I'm not focusing on it so much, it'll just happen. Whatcha think, Imp?

Not sure how to feel, not sure what to do...

Heyas,

Well, no sense beating around the bush. There will be no April arrival of the Imp. Blood results from my doctor came back negative and the Crimson Avenger put in its appearance with a true vengeance this week. Near as my doctor can figure, it really was a chemical pregnancy or an early miscarriage that gave me my South Africa BFP. Or just sloppy labwork on the other doctor's part...frankly, I'm not going to make a call to Cape Town to find out.

So, no last minute miracle for this Elf. Did some crying, did some irrational anger, did some lying in bed staring aimlessly at the ceiling...but I don't think I'm truly grieving this as a loss. It's over, it's done with, there was never anything I could have done to change it, and c'est la vie.

Fair warning, I firmly believe that if you can't laugh, all you'll ever do is cry, so I've developed an ability to be flip under any circumstances. It's my coping mechanism, don't judge me.

I don't believe my Imp died inside of me. I believe that the vessel being created for my Imp's beautiful soul was somehow wrong, or never truly existed in the first place. I will create another one, and my Imp will be with me.

I did break down and tell my family, which in retrospect I wish I hadn't done. Now they're all worried that I'm not "dealing with it" or talking about it enough. I dunno...as hopeful and happy as I was, there was always some part of me that was holding back on the true joy I know will be waiting for me when I have the Imp here. Maybe there was some part of me that recognized something wasn't right all along. I'm usually better at listening to those deep-rooted instincts, but I think I can be forgiven for ignoring them this time.

So now I am faced with a quandary. Apparently the late, weird period last month was the actual miscarriage. This month was my normal flow (nice of my body to get right back on schedule like that, after driving me nuts with the 1st TTC attempt, no?). My doctor couldn't find any particular reason I should wait to try again. If I did this cycle, I'd have a potential due date of late June/early July...not as ideal as April/May, but not unacceptable like August or September.

If I don't try this month, it's another school year before I can try again.

Imp, my love, I'm realistic. I'll never be able to afford to stay at home with you full time...and I don't know that I could be happy in a career other than teaching, which doesn't lend itself to working in the home. I'd gladly make any sacrifice for you, your happiness will be worth any price to me, but I've seen what happens when people force themselves into molds that don't fit them. I won't give you a mother who doesn't know enough to take care of her own needs and happiness in addition to yours. The months after you're born will be the only ones where there will be no other demands on my time than you. I won't deprive us of that.

It would hurt so, so much to wait again, though. I don't know what to do. I have only a couple of weeks to decide, if patterns hold true.

I dreamed of you again the other night, Imp. I dreamed of holding you in my arms, tucking you into bed, listening to your laughter. Even dreaming, I felt such a swell of love and joy. I almost cried upon ralizing it was just a dream. I want you here so much, but I'm afraid that I'm not thinking clearly, that my heart is overwhelming my judgement. My heart's never led me wrong before...but now I'm afraid. I only want what's best for you, Imp. I don't know what to do.

I'm Not Dead Yet....

Heyas,

Sorry I've been MIA lately...got back from Africa safely (heh, funny story...I actually managed to delay our flight for almost forty-five minutes. And not by doing anything cool like tangling with TSA or anything. Nope, when we were booking our flight and filling out options for our in-flight meal, I was like "Hey, D, wanna try some of these special meal options?" argument being that it would be fresher and eh, what the hell, we were paying exhorbitant fees anyway. Any road, D got vegetarian, and I, stupid Elf, went for Kosher. Well...apparently they had a hard time providing kosher plane food on the day we left, and nobody thought to come and ask me if it was okay not to have kosher food until they'd exhausted all other options. I'm not Jewish--and honestly don't mean to be offensive or anything--and so of course I was like, "yeah, no problem"...but they waited for 45 minutes to come ask me that. So. Yeah.)

Any road, I'd be posting updates and doing "X Weeks Pregnant, Only X Weeks To Go!" counters, but truth is...I'm scared. I'm going to see my doctor next week to get it confirmed for me if the Imp is really here. For those of you not aware...I got some really inconclusive HPT's, and had a strange discharge that was NOT my usual AF, and finally went to a doctor in Cape Town and got a positive blood test.

And I want to believe I'm pregnant...I *feel* pregnant, if that makes any sense...but I'm still scared that it's just all in my head.

So...not blogging my pregnancy until I'm SURE the Imp is here.

Keep your fingers crossed for us, eh?

What....the....FUCK?!?!?!

No Africa update today...I just need to vent.

Three and a half weeks.

Twenty four days.

Not bothering to calculate the hours, minutes, and seconds.

But for the past three and a half weeks, there has not been a SINGLE day that I have not felt as though my world would be much, much better if I could just throw up, at least once or twice.

I'm not sick. I know I'm not sick. Maybe if this had started after I got to Africa, I could convince myself of food poisoning, but no...this was going on before. Three and a half weeks to be precise.

And my back still hurts.

And the girls still twinge off and on.

And smells are getting to me like I've never experienced before in my LIFE. Seriously...PIZZA was getting to be too much last night. I LOVE pizza. And I'm tearing up at random moments over stupid stuff. And my Coke suddenly tasted like potting soil the other day and WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!?!?!

I HAD my period this week. Somewhat. It was weird. TMI alert...but frankly, I bleed like a stuck pig. Clumps of tissue, bright red flow for four to six days, I have to change the pad at least two or three times a day. This past week? Four days of what was basically brown spotting. I could've worn the same pad the entire four days.

Except that would be gross. And smelly. Ew.

And I'm really, really trying to convince myself that it's all in my head...but I've never felt like this in my life. I shouldn't be having symptoms after I got my period, should I? Seriously, someone help? Should I go to the doctor?

Needless to say, this is seriously freaking me out. I don't know what the hell is going on with my body, and it's driving me insane.

*breathes deep*

Elfgirl's Adventures in Africa, The Return

Heyas,

Well, the country is still incredibly beautiful. D and I are still having an incredible time with our volunteer program. The kids are amazingly well-behaved...it's all "Yes, miss" and "No, miss" and "Excuse me, miss" and my favorite, "Does Miss have children?" (not yet, sweetie, working on it ;) )

Apart from our placement, D and I are just trying to experience as much of the culture and the country as possible. We're going down to the southernmost part of the Cape tomorrow, literally the spot where the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic meet. Supposedly, there's literally a line in the water where you can see the two waters clashing. I hope to get some incredible pictures.

Oh, and we get to see penguins. Gotta love the penguins!

D and I are planning on going up to the top of Table Mountain on Sunday...I think that's going to be an absolutely breathtaking view. Can't wait to get a few shots of that...I'm going to have so much to show my kids!

Some more pictures...Castle of Good Hope, the oldest building in Cape Town:





Another shot of Table Mountain:



And tomorrow, I hope to upload some shots we got from the Botanical Gardens we went to the other day. Lovely, lovely flowers, even in the dead of winter.

On the Imp-front...

I'm officially late.

Not REALLY late, but late.

The girls are killing me, the, ahem, nipple area is looking swollen and dark, my back hurts, it's still REALLY mucus-y "down there" and I'm still getting flashes of nausea.

I'm upgrading from "hoping, but trying not to get my hopes UP" to "cautiously optimistic". I have another three days before I can really say I'm LATE, late, so I think I might test this weekend.

What say you, Imp? Are you here?

Elfgirl's Adventures in Africa, Part Twee

Heyas,

Oh...that's twee as in Afrikaans for "two"...not twee as in "that's so twee!"

Hehe, I'm learning Afrikaans.

I'm really having an amazing time. We've been on a couple of city tours with the company sponsoring our trip...one to the "tourist" side of Cape Town and one trip to the actual townships where people live...what used to be the "colored" and "black" sections of Cape Town during Apartheid. Incredible, incredible experience. Heartbreaking, in many ways--there is absolutely no reason that such poverty should exist in the 'developed' world. But that's partly why I went on this trip...I want to see everything, experience everything, the good and the bad.

I can already tell this is going to be a life-changing experience. As part of my volunteer work, I'm assisting at a local primary school (the kids are roughly equivalent to 4th grade)...today was our first day, and D and I arrived at the school only to discover we're not going to be assisting with the class...we're going to be TEACHING the class.

Yeah, they literally gave us some lesson plans and left us there with thirty South African children. They all speak English, thank God (and I'm really jealous and impressed that all of these kids are at least bilingual already!), but it was a bit of a challenge. Fortunately, D and I have both taught primary grades before, so we were okay with the curriculum...it's not so different from the last time I taught fourth grade actually.

D and I are going to have a good time there, I think. And we've got soooo much planned in our free time. We're planning a trip down to the Cape of Good Hope, and we're going on an honest-to-god safari in a couple of weeks. Yes, the volunteer work is our primary focus, but we also want to see the 'tourist' side of Africa...anything we can photograph and bring back to our students. :)

Speaking of, here's a picture of Table Mountain that I took the other day (D and I haven't made it to the top, but you can be sure we will before we leave).



I HOPE that worked. Got lots of other pictures...but it's taking a long time to load, unfortunately.

On the Imp-front...I'm officially ten DPO and desperately telling myself that I can wait a few more days to test with my CBE digital test. I'm thinking of running out to a pharmacy tomorrow or the next day to get a South African version of the cheapies...but I dunno.

I'm still sick to my stomach (though it's more in the mornings now than throughout the day, so yay), but have still not actually puked. Cervical discharge continues to be sticky/wet and copious. Looking at my FF chart, I've literally had nausea every day since after my first insemination, cervical mucus of some kind every day since I've inseminated (which has never happened before), and cramps and tender breasts multiple times since insemination.
I'm pretty sure my nips are changing color as well...or at least getting a little swollen and darker around the edges.

Dare I hope?

How much of this is in my head, Imp? The nausea I really can't explain and the CM I really can't explain. Neither of those symptoms are anything even remotely resembling typical for me. I've never had cervical discharge like this, and I can't remember ever being this sick to my stomach for this long without puking or actually being SICK sick.

I'm hoping, Imp. I'm really hoping. AF is due in two days, but up to a week later would not be unreasonable going on my last two cycles. However, those were two cycles where I was literally sick to my stomach with stress every day for several days in a row (bad stuff went down at work...but it's okay now). I just don't know.

But I think I'm gonna find a pharmacy tomorrow.

Elfgirl's Adventures in Africa

(pictures to come once this Elf figures out where the USB port is on this computer)

Heyas,

Greetings from Africa!

'Twas a long and harrowing journey...seriously, the worst plane trip I have ever been on. Sooooooooo LONG.

Well, I haven't really had any adventures, yet. This was my first full day here and was mostly spent doing orientation for the volunteer work I'll be doing whilst here. We did have an incredible bus tour of the area, and I got some breathtaking photos. Really incredible scenery here...will definitely post pictures.

D and I had a layover in New York for the night before our flight to Africa. Hoofed around New York--went to the Empire State Building and Central Park...then spent a lovely evening literally sleeping on the floor at JFK (hey, that's eighty bucks we would've had to shell out for a hotel that we can now spend on stuff for our classrooms). The floor of JFK is quite comfortable as those things go...very clean, nice and cool. The sinks in the bathroom were deep enough that I was able to duck my head under and wash my hair in the morning, so I felt halfway human for the REALLY long flight to Africa.

Did I mention that flight was long?

Also made a tactical error in ordering a Kosher meal in-flight. I'm not Jewish, but I like the food they serve and frankly, it tends to be fresher and better quality if you "special" order. No offense to Judaism.

However, the easiest kosher food to serve in plane-format? Fish.

More specifically, canned tuna. You know, that stuff you're supposed to stay away from if you're preggers? So, I just munched on crackers and fruit and was utterly starving by the time we got to the site we're staying at.

Dumb move, Elf.

On the Imp-front...I still don't know, but am cautiously hopeful that if I'm NOT pregnant, my body is doing a damn good impression. Cervical mucus continues to be present, but drying into a more sticky and whitish discharge. The girls have been getting progressively tender, and I'm noticing some definite darkening of the nipple area. And I'm. Still. Sick.

Incredibly nauseated...like, constantly. If I don't eat REALLY regularly, it gets worse, but it never really goes away. However, I've had none of the fever or puking that would actually indicate a stomach bug. Also had some major heartburn after lunch today...and let me tell you, I can count on one hand the number of times I've ever had heartburn. Barbecue chicken and salad ain't gonna do it to me. But yeah...motion gets to me (who never gets motion-sick), smells get to me (who never is upset by any but the most disgusting smells) and I just generally feel sick to my stomach.

So, Imp, what'll it be? Is Mommy psyching herself out something fierce, or are you in Africa with her? I'm hopeful...but won't be testing for another week. Still scary stuff.

Adventures in Knocking Oneself Up, Part Trois

Heyas,

Isn't it sad that the only reason I know how to say three in French is because it's part of the phrase that means threesome?

Anyway.

Well, nearing in on a week since my first insem. I don't know how it's going, really. Sometimes, I'm very optimistic, sometimes I think there's no way I'm pregnant right now. Normal, I suppose, but yeesh, very emotionally yo-yoish. Still not hitting the hyper-stressing out that I was expecting...but I teeter in between feeling like I got the Imp on the first try, and feeling like there's no way in Hell. I'm also consciously trying to be pessimistic, I guess, and telling myself that I'm being ridiculously overconfident in assuming I could ever have that kind of first-timer luck. This way, if it doesn't take, I won't be too devastated (I hope), and if it does take, it'll be a wonderful surprise.

Symptom-wise...I just don't know. There's been some tingling in the girls...definite moments where I've brushed up against them and been like "Whoa, ouch!". But I don't think there's been any swelling or darkening of anything. I'm feeling like I'm hungry more often...but as erratic as my eating schedule has been with trying to get a classroom put together and an apartment emptied and cleaned, I don't feel like I can trust that feeling. Temps are unreliable as well as my roommate keeps the house much, much warmer than I'm accustomed to...my BBT is always up from what it usually is, 'cause my room gets so damn hot at night. I'm slightly encouraged by the fact that my 'active' body temp seems to be up, even when I'm in an air-conditioned place...usually it hovers in the low 97's...lately it's been consistently almost 98.

I'm really scratching my head at the mucus in the ladybits...I've *never* had mucus this long. Since I started keeping track, I've had two or three days of barely-there 'slime', a day or two of REALLY heavy 'flow', and then maybe a day of the barely-there stuff again. Toilet tissue has been very mucus-y for going on eight days now. WTF?

One thing that is kind of encouraging me though...I feel *sick*. Nausea has been almost constant since a couple days after my first insem. At least once or twice a day, I feel like I'm thisclose to vomiting, and it never really goes away, but never gets bad enough to puke. I think if I was actually ill, it would've gone away or I would've paid homage to the porcelain gods a few times by now...stomach bugs don't last very long with me at all (hell, ordinarily I'm literally fine and dandy once I actually vomit). Also...last night we had Chinese, and the smell of D's sweet and sour pork actually got to me for a minute...it was really unpleasant.

Now, if any of you knew about me and my love affair with Chinese food, you would know that the idea of me not finding the scent of Chinese food appealing is, like, getting into Sign of the Apocalypse territory. I may not enjoy *eating* every type of dish, but I looooooove the way it smells.

But, then I think, "Am I psyching myself out?" I'm very good at stuff like that.

So...I dunno, Imp. Are you here with me? Are you not?

AF is due August 8th. I think I'm going to wait to test 'til the 14th, just to be sure.

Scary stuff, Imp...it'd be really cool if you could start rooting around here a bit...give Mommy some more concrete signs.

Adventures in Knocking Oneself Up, Part Deux

Heyas,

So, officially done with inseminations...I need to send my dewar back tomorrow and just sit and cross my fingers. Two days past positive OPK, three (or four, depending on how you count midnight insems) days past the first tryst with my trusty syringe. So am I one, two, or three days into the TWW? I'm thinking I'm going to test on the 14th...that'll be about three days after the earliest AF is due this month.

So far...eh, I don't know, it's not like I thought it would be. I was sure I'd be driving myself crazy, second-guessing even the slightest twinge, stubbornly trying to resist the urge to buy a pregnancy test even when I knew damn well it would be too early to even think about testing.

But it's been surprisingly....not like that.

I don't know if it's an instinct, or a feeling, or what, but I'm not stressing about this. Not to say I "feel" pregnant...but more that I feel my body knows either way already and is just going with the flow until my mind catches up. I'm hopeful, oh GOD am I hopeful. I've been feeling weirdly nauseated for the past two days (just barely, you know? Constant, low-level queasy with occasional flares into "man, I wish I could just puke" territory...but I never get the flood of saliva in the back of my throat that always heralds a technicolor yawn.) but am logical enough to know that such could simply be a manifestation of my wish to be feeling symptoms. Even if this DOES work, I'm still a few days away from actual conception or implantation. *shrugs* The tricks our minds can play on us, eh?

Doesn't stop me from fantasizing about seeing a little smear of brownish-red when I hit the ladies (in 15 years, I've never 'spotted' before AF) or making a grab for the little paper bag during my plane ride next week (been flying since I was six, and never been airsick).

We shall see, Imp, we shall see.

I do like feeling as close to you as I have these past few days...looking down at my stomach and thinking that somewhere, one of Frozen Boy's little swimmers could be burrowing into that tiny, tiny cell to create you. You're such a real person to me already...I can't imagine actually feeling you growing inside of me. Incredible.

I'm doing a lot of visualization, a lot of meditation...imagining you, wondering what it'll be like to be pregnant with you. Sometimes I think I want to test for you the very single instant I could reasonably do so.

Sometimes I think it would be better to wait a couple more weeks, until I KNOW that it's not just that AF missed the bus or something. I don't know...I'm going to bring a test to Africa, regardless...but I don't know when I'll use it.

Adventures in Knocking Oneself Up

Heyas,

So, just swung the legs down from my second insem...huzzah, huzzah, one more to go. 'Tis definitely been interesting. I was honestly expecting this to be harder...I mean, I had visions in my head of something along the lines of the Lucy and Ethel comedy hour...exploding vials, embarrassing stains, weird noises...

Well, okay, maybe not weird noises.

That calls to mind some somewhat disturbing imagery.

But yeah, was totally expecting this to be difficult. Instead, I've found it to be remarkably straightforward to get the now-unfrozen Frozen Boy from little vial to syringe, and syringe to ladybits. So far, the biggest deal has been when I realized I'd forgotten to turn the lights out for the one I did at midnight the other night.

Well...maybe it would be better to say that I forgot to take into account that I would want the lights out...'cause really, how can someone not notice the lights are on? It's pretty obvious, what with the utter lack of darkness and all.

Any road, I was lying on the bed with pillows thrust under hips (and really, how much elevation is enough? Like, do I have to be doing a yoga headstand, or can I just tilt them a little?) and I realize I have no way to turn the lights off. And naturally, once I realized this, I REALLY wanted the lights off.

Fortunately, I managed to solve the problem with a rake.

Yes, there was a rake in the bedroom. See, I'm moving into my friend D's house and I was staying in her little tool room/guest room while what is going to be my bedroom was in total disarray.

Yeah, I don't know why there's a tool room/guest room either. Seems like an odd combo.

Any road, I was able to grab a rake off the floor and use the handle to hit the light switch. I also managed to hit my head with the handle while setting down, but that was inevitable anyway. Large blunt object in the immediate vicinity of this Elf? Oh yeah, something's getting hit.

So, that was my first insem, done twelve hours before I got the actual positive OPK. Then, I got my positive OPK yesterday at noon and just got done doing the second insem today at noon. I think I'll do the final one at midnight tonight. *nods decisively* Two midnight insems, eh Imp? The hour when the veil between worlds is thinner...I like it.

Had kind of a cool experience right before I did the first insem. I'm teaching myself how to do Tarot readings this summer...well, not so much teaching as trying to learn all the meanings of the different cards, since the actual reading is just meditating on a question and then interpreting what the cards tell you in relation to that question. For instance, the Death card could come up in the position that relates to future outcomes. If the Death card is upright, it symbolizes change, transformation, and beginnings/endings. If it's upside down, the reverse meaning comes through, which is stagnation, dead-ends, misfortune, etc. If I was asking a question about my career, the Death card in the future happenings position might symbolize a change of jobs or a promotion, or it might indicate taht staying in my current career would make me unhappy or bring about some bad changes in my life.

Sorry. Mini-lesson. I'm a teacher, can't help it.

Any road, I'd been doing a reading (naturally, the question on my mind was if I was going to be successful at this ttc thing on the timetable I was hoping for) and gotten kind of frustrated because I was having trouble with interpretation. Frustration and impatience are bad things to be bringing to a Tarot reading, so I decided to just clean the cards up and go do something else until I was in a better frame of mind. Anyway, as I was about to put the cards into the box, I muttered to myself, "God, Grandma, help me out here...I just wanna know if this'll work out or not." I've spoken about my grandmother on here before...I talk to her a lot, asking her for guidance, asking her to watch out for me from the other side. Anyway, right as I said this, and I mean down to the very second I finished my sentence, my hand spasmed or something, and suddenly half the deck started to slip out of my hand. I managed to catch it before the cards fell, but I ended up holding the deck awkwardly with my index finger between the two halves of the deck. Because of this, one of the cards in the half I'd almost dropped was exposed. Out of order, and face up instead of face down like I thought I'd stacked them. So there staring up at me is the Star card. The meaning of the Star card varies slightly depending on what interpretation you're reading, but all interpretations agree that there is nothing negative associated with this card. It's divination is of good things happening, dreams coming true, help towards a goal. It's one of the most spiritual and beautiful cards in any deck. In the deck I have, the interpretation is very focused on achievement of goals and dreams, of things happening the way you want them to, though not necessarily immediately.

Needless to say, the incident excited me.

Mommy has some non-traditional beliefs, Imp. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to raise you Catholic, the way I was. I don't go to church much anymore, I but I really think my early exposure to the church gave me a strong moral foundation that has served me well over the years. I just also believe in other, older traditions and spiritual paths, and will let you choose your own as my mother let me. But I do believe that there are ways to connect with the energy of the universe, and that that energy can tell us things. So, Imp, I hope this energy is telling me that your going to be with me soon. I really hope you come to me this time, in no small aprt because the timing of your birth would be FANTASTIC if you started to grow inside me this month. I could have a long time home with you after you're born. But, I really feel that at least now I know that you'll be with me no matter what...so if you can't come this time, that'll be all right.

I just really hope you come this time :)

If nothing else, I don't wanna risk scratching my ladybits with the syringe the way I did that first time the other night. Hurt like no one's business when I peed for two days after (though everything's fine now).

Well, at least I know the Imp will have my sense of humor...

Heyas,

Okay, Imp, it's time to stop messing with Mommy's head.  She's moving to another house, packing for a trip to another continent, and trying to get her classroom together for the school year.  So far...not too stressful at all, and honestly, she's pretty sure that if she was getting ovulation at the height of the school year, those stressors aren't going to stop her now.  

But sweetie, playing Peek-A-Boo with Mommy's OPK's is not cool, all right?  

Soooooo frustrated.  

I know, I know, it's all part of TTC...and I really should have expected something like this.  But magically appearing and disappearing lines on the OPK?  Really?  Seriously?  You're going to do this to me, Universe?  

I got an almost-really-almost-tilt-your-head-and-squint-'cause-maybe-it-is positive OPK today.  I'm...leery, but thinking it might have been a positive and my body is just screwing with the OPK strips.  I've had cramping for two days now, got lots of clear/white stretchy mucus, and a bit of that sixth sense intuition is pricking at the back of my neck.  

And frankly, if I had a boyfriend, I'd have mauled him a few times by now...the buzzy friends have been getting a real workout.  

TMI?  

*grins wickedly*

Let's see, 24 hours or so past the LH surge, that would put me ovulating midway through CD18.  Early.  But not impossible, considering that the last couple of cycles were a little screwy (I blame massive amounts of stress).  What to do, what to do, what to do...

I have three vials of Frozen Boy.  I'm really considering doing an insem tonight.  If nothing else, I can see what it's like and get any major screwups out of the way.  

Yes, I'm aware that's basically a 200 dollar experiment.

Eh, Uncle Sam picked up the tab for the frozen manjuice.

What?  I bought something!  I totally stimulated the economy with that check!

You're not going to make this easy for me, are you Imp?  I guess I can deal with that.  I like a certain amount of moxie in a kid.  

But really...stop messing with Mommy's OPK's. 

Deep breaths, Elf, deep breaths

I have a 32 to 33 day cycle.

I ovulate on CD 20...sometimes CD 21.

I do NOT ovulate on CD 16.

I have NEVER ovulated before CD 19.

Murphy's Law being a bitch is NOT grounds to assume this will change just for this cycle.

Cervical mucus that is sticky, damp, and cloudy/yellowish is the stuff you get BEFORE the good stuff.

Every month.

If you jump the gun on this, you will be kicking yourself for months.

I know this. I know this. I know this.

I am NOT going to have a nervous breakdown this close to the finish line.

That is all.

I Wonder If Couples Drive Themselves This Crazy...

Heyas,

So, I'm sitting in my half-packed apartment right now, idly surfing the 'net and pretending that my gaze isn't really riveted on the windows facing the street, where Mr. FedEx man is due to pull up today and bring me the Imp's Pop-sicle.

Heh, get it? Popsicle?

Anyway, so I'm sitting here, and just reflecting on everything that's brought me to this chapter in my life...the precipice, the point of no return. All the agonizing, the decision-making, the soul searching...that little flutter of anticipation, the irresistable tug of the smile that breaks out every time I touch something I've bought for the Imp. The late-night fears and doubts that creep in and set my heart hammering; the stab of emotion when I imagine holding the Imp in my arms--it all comes down to this. The first (and last, okay Imp?) attempt to bring my baby into this world. This time next month, I could be going to a doctor's appointment to hear the Imp's heartbeat for the first time. It's amazing to me.

All the things I've done, and thought, and felt over the past year, all coming to a head. I'm going to look back on this someday and laugh myself silly, I know I am. All the hyper-awareness of every twinge, cramp, and temperature shift. Contemplating the contents of a toilet tissue as though the secrets of the universe will be revealed if only I can decide if that is egg-white, or just watery mucus. Frantically crossing my legs in an attempt to hold off the bathroom break for one more half hour 'cause I get my clearest hormone readings after eleven in the morning. Trying not to get ahead of myself, knowing I'm setting myself up for disappointment, but somehow unable to stop the most optimistic hopes from forming. Ridiculously sitcom-like adventures in WalMart.

And that's not even counting the sheer amount of introspection, meditation, and assessment that has gone into even beginning to attempt this. I know I haven't had the heartache and frustration that I know many people have gone through on this path...but though my roads may have been different, in many ways they've been just as rough. Doing this as a single woman was a harder decision than any I've ever had to make, however flippant I may be about the lack of a Mr. Elf.

And now that I'm finally, FINALLY, hitting the last phase of this experience (however long it takes me to get to actual motherhood), it's just incredible to contemplate how far I've come and how much farther I have to go.

You're worth it to me, though, Imp. Worth all this and a thousand times more. I'm waiting for you with open arms and all the love in my heart.

Here.

We.

Go.

I think they heard me three states away....

Heyas,

All right...for those of you who are about to be grossed out and horrified and thinking "my God, she wants to have a CHILD?!" --let me preface this by saying that nothing of this sort has ever happened to me before and will never happen again. Just bad luck, really.

But oh God, I'm on my third bottle of bleach and it still doesn't feel clean!

Got your interest, don't I?

So...I live a couple states over from most of my family, and during the summers I go home to teach at a local university, and see everyone for a few weeks. Fun, right? Okay, thing is, I'm about the most unorganized person on the face of the planet...like serious "Absent Minded Professor" territory. It's a bit of a handicap, but I can usually function. Just...some details get lost, okay?

Any road, so I was really proud of myself as I was packing this year. I remembered my cell phone charger, and my dress shoes for my teaching job, and a few bills I needed to mail before I left. Except one.

The electric bill.

Anyone guessed where I'm going with this yet?

So, I had to head back to my apartment yesterday, and don't get in until around midnight (fuckin' traffic). I haul all my crap up the ridiculously steep stairs that lead to my apartment, wrestle the door open, and hit the switch to turn on my hall light....

And nothing happens.

Oh. Shit.

So, yeah, long story short, my electricity's been turned off.

In ninety-degree weather.

For a freakin' MONTH.

And the cherry on this sundae of stupid-forgetful-dumbassery on my part?

I didn't clear out my freezer before I left...or the 'fridge, except for the immediate perishables.

But you know what? Even not-so-immediate perishables perish in a warm 'fridge.

So, after a ridiculously hot and sweaty night (and not in the fun way) spent in my apartment because I refuse to shell out eighty bucks for a hotel room; and even though I had a pretty good idea of what I'd find, I opened said appliance this morning...

And screamed. Bloody. Murder.

I have NEVER smelled anything so foul in my life...rancid butter, molded Hoisin sauce, sour salad dressing...and sweet baby Jesus, the freezer...oh God, the freezer.

Rotted meat, rotted frozen vegetables, rotted fish...

And maggots.

Maggots. In MY house.

I don't even know how they got into the freezer. But holy crap, it was gross.

Needless to say, I've been frantically scrubbing the kitchen down for hours, now. Full-on hazmat gear...gloves, towel wrapped around the face, mountains of garbage bags. I've gone through two bottles of Clorox Cleanup and am working on the third...and I'm still not sure I'll be able to bring myself to put anything back in that 'fridge. *shudders*

Moral of the story...if you have a lot of things that need doing, and a lot on your mind...make a freakin' list!

Imp, honey, I promise...Mommy is NOT a dirty, disgusting slob. This is a TOTAL aberration.

How Sick Am I That I Thought This Was Hilarious....

Heyas,

So...went out with my sister, C, and her boyfriend/fiance (they're planning the wedding, just waiting for him to officially pop the question) to see Hellboy II, tonight. The movie? MADE of awesome, if anyone is asking. Much, much more fantasy-based than sci-fi/horror like the last one, but the effects were awesome, I love Ron Perlman (heh, I watched him in Beauty and the Beast when I was, like, five), and Hellboy and Liz have the sweetest relationship (won't put any spoilers for those who want to and haven't seen it yet).

Any road, we see the movie and afterwards, we decide to bring home pizza for dinner for my mom and her husband (yeah, messy divorce, both parents remarried, not fun). Conveniently, the pizza place is right next to the theater, so I go in, place the order, but the AC in the building seems to be out and it's FREAKIN' hot here right now, so this Elf, C, and A head two doors down to the little strip mall next to the pizza place with the intention of hitting the dollar store.

And we pass a sex shop on the way.

Now, c'mon people...sex shop, dollar store, sex shop, dollar store...which is going to be the more amusing place to spend twenty minutes?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

So, we go into the sex shop, drop our driver's licenses into the little basket at the checkout counter, wave hello to the ADORABLE baby in the pack n' play behind the counter where his mother (I guess) is working, pause a moment to appreciate just how difficult his future kindergarten teacher's job is going to be, and then peruse the wares.

And you know what we find?

Not just the usual array of bondage gear, tasteless gag gifts, vibes and dildos swollen to truly excruiating-looking proportions, and a rainbow of anal beads...no, we find "Tighten 'er" cream, guaranteed to make your vagina so tight, your partner will think you're a virgin! Right next to the "Anal-ease," enabling you to do it doggie-style in slippery soft comfort.

But that wasn't the best part. Oh no, not by a longshot.

In the back of the store, I found the most hilarious thing ever...the thing that literally had me whipping out my cellphone (alas, no camera, sorry) to call everyone on my call list just to share the absurdity!

I found a set of baby bottles. Real, plastic, baby bottles, with measurement markings, drop-in liners, everything.

With nipples that were shaped like anatomically correct penises.

Imp, I'm sorry, Mommy almost bought you one. It was too funny! Fortunately, I guess, Aunt C vetoed the idea. The conversation went something like this:

Elf: Dude! Scale of one to ten, how screwed up would my kid be if I bought this?

C: Uh, A LOT!

Elf: Oh, c'mon, it'd be hilarious!

C: Dude, no! I forbid you.

Elf: *pouts*

Yes, Imp, Mommy and her sisters address each other as "Dude" all the time. It doesn't matter that we're all girls. It's the standard greeting/identifier. You will understand someday.

So, I walked out of the sex shop without a penis bottle.

And my world was a little darker for it.

Other than that, not a whole lot going on. The car's ignition switch did indeed give up the ghost and I had to have it towed to my mechanic friend. Fortunately, AAA covered the towing fee so I didn't owe anything on that, and the repair is only going to be about 90 bucks. All in all, could've been much worse. I'm stuck driving my sister's car until I can get mine back (should be Wednesday or Thursday I guess), and her brakes suck, so I guess I gotta confine my driving as much as possible.

Heading back to NC on the 21st or 22nd, to get ready for Africa. Heh, get this...I will be returning with ten days to spare before I leave. In those ten days, I will be getting my classroom ready for the coming school year, inseminating, and moving in with my friend D. How's THAT for lots going on?

Shouldn't be too bad, though. Former Marine brat, here, so I've been moving every three years as long as I can remember. Consequently, that whole "moving is the most stressful thing you can do!" schtick has never made much sense to me...doesn't bother me much, and I've gotten to where I can literally break my whole house down and get it packed inside of two days. Plus which, I'm getting rid of most of my furniture (it was all "curbside discount, if you know what I'm sayin') besides the bed and the dresser, and D doesn't live too far away...easy as pie. ;)

Hear that Imp? D will officially have our backs the whole time I'm pregnant with you...so really, there's no reason to wait to come.

Oh, come ON, now you're just picking on me!!!!

Heyas,

There exists, somewhere in time and space, a man named Murphy. A rather jolly fellow, clever and wise in the ways of the universe and just how things work...one might even say the laws of the universe. I would like to find Mr. Murphy, walk with him a while, talk with him a while.

Then I would like to kick him in the balls.

So, I've got a job this summer at a local school...pretty decent money for pretty easy work, and I really enjoy the kids I work with. Ordinarily, I just put what I earn in the summers onto my credit card bills and save a few hundred out to just spoil myself with before I head back to the grindstone of a new school year. Only this time, I was gonna save my few hundred out and spend about half of it on my swimmers and the other half on a nice dinner out with my family, and maybe a swing for the Imp, 'cause I love shopping for the Imp, even if he/she isn't here yet.

And so, I leave my job today, go out to my car, shove the key in the ignition and...nothing. The key will not even freakin' turn. Now, the ignition switch in my car has always been a little finicky. It's probably needed replacing for about a year and a half now, but I've always been able to cajole it into working for me. Not this time. No, no amount of jiggling steering wheel, switching out the key, smacking, bouncing or other movement will get that key to turn. I even tried my grandpa's tried and true method of getting something to work: I pounded the dashboard with my fist and screamed: "C'mon, you son of a bitch!"

Didn't make the key work, but I felt better. Maybe THAT'S why Grandpa does it so much.

Any road, I'm not upset about getting the ignition switch replaced. It needs to be done, and my family has a mechanic friend we take all our problems to, and he gives us a really good deal...the entire bill for fixing the problem is going to be a hundred, a hundred and twenty five bucks, tops. Noooo, what pisses me off is my car couldn't wait 'til I was, oh, CLOSER to said mechanic friend to give up the ghost? Seriously...TOWING the car to this place is going to be the big expense. We have AAA, but it's a good half hour haul from where I am to where I need to be. Stupid, out of the way, rural towns.

I can afford it right now, but holy crap...seems like every time I get even a little bit ahead financially, something happens to suck it all right up. I'm never seriously DOWN money, but my expenses literally seem to grow and shrink depending on how much extra cash I have on hand. Very, very frustrating.

I'm going to try one more time today to get my car started...I'm hoping that if I let it sit for a while, maybe wait 'til it cools off here and the metal contracts a bit, whatever is out of joint will slip back into place long enough for me to drive the car to where it needs to be myself. I'd surely appreciate any crossed fingers/good vibes. *sigh*

Stupid car.

Like Choosing Between a Root Canal and a Colonoscopy

Hello,

So, as you may have noticed from the counter adorning the top right hand corner of your screen...I'm something of a liberal. Registered Democrat since the age of eighteen, veteran of protests, voter registration, etc, etc. I was really stoked this year when Clinton ran (I mean, hey, whatever your opinion of the Clintons as human beings, they know how to govern). And then I got less stoked.

Now let me say, this has nothing to do with race or gender. It's about damn time we had a woman or a person of color (or both!) in the White House. I'm just really, really not sure about Obama. I expect a certain amount of smoke and mirrors, flash-in-the-pan rhetoric...it's just part of the game. I find it extremely worrying, though, that this appears to be ALL Obama offers. Seriously...the man rarely, if ever, provides an actual *answer* to a question. Is he charismatic? Yes. Is he an excellent speaker? Hell, yes.

I just have serious reservations about voting for the man to be the leader of the free world. Just...doesn't seem to be a great deal of practical experience here. And I'd be okay with that if he seemed to make up for it in ability...but no, that seems to be kind of lacking, too.

On the other hand...McCain, though admittedly one of the few Republicans I'd actually seriously consider voting for, is surrounding himself with people that scare me, quite frankly. A McCain administration might have been an okay thing ten years ago...but now I fear we'd just get ANOTHER four years of the mess that the current administration has created. I don't like his stance on women's reproductive rights, gay rights, or the war in Iraq (though I like his stances on the environment and global warming).

Politics is always about choosing the person you think will screw up the country the least (or at least screw it up in ways you can deal with!), but this is worse than usual.

Sometimes I wish I lived in Canada.

In other news, yay, back on schedule for the Imp. Cramping like a motherfucker, but I have never been so happy to see red. I actually did a little victory dance in the bathroom stall this morning, pumped my fist in the air and went: "Yesssssss!" like I was still in freakin' middle school. I shudder to think what the person in the stall next to me thought I was doing.

Oh well.

So, the way this cycle is shaping up, it's looking like I'll be ordering the swim team to arrive on the 22nd, squirting them up the ladybits on the 27th, 28th, and 29th, boarding a plane for Africa on the 31st, and testing my second weekend in Africa. I'm seriously considering devoting some of my suitcase space to a box of Top Ramen packages and peanut butter and just make my own food over there...I really don't want to catch a stomach bug in Africa and get all excited thinking it's morning sickness. Or get morning sickness and have it mask something more serious picked up from the food and water.

I'm also kind of considering telling my program director that I have OCD so they won't be offended if I do weird stuff like skip the provided meals in favor of said Top Ramen.

I haven't decided just how strange this makes me.

Seriously, Imp, do you have any idea how cool Mommy's pregnancy announcement idea would be? Our family would FLIP...it'd be soooo hilarious, and I promise to take pictures of their faces. You will appreciate the entertainment value of this once you meet everyone...particularly your great-uncles, J and A. Oooooh, Imp, PLEASE come first try...you have NO idea how much I want to get Uncle J's goat like that.

Hell, PLEASE come first try 'cause I can't wait to hold you.

Going Ever So Slightly Insane

And that's a pretty short trip to begin with.

So July is here. Officially here. And you know who's officially three days off schedule? Yeah. The Crimson Fairy.

Bitch.

TMI alert, here, loves...you might wanna skip down a paragraph or two.

But seriously! I'm cramping like no one's business, my breasts are so sore that seatbelts are excrutiating if I don't sit it across my chest just right (and don't get me started on the bras...God, I wish I was small enough to go without) and I'm tired and irritable, and I JUST CAN'T BLEED!!!!

*whimper*

And okay, intellectually, I know that the human hormone system is more delicate than one might think. Excitement and stress of actually going for the Imp this month might have thrown me out of whack, I really want everything to go smooth, so Murphy's Law is probably laughing its ass off at me right now, and we've had some lovely family issues going on recently (seriously, it's a sad thing when you realize that you and your 25 year old sister are more mature and reasonable than all of your aunts and uncles...and let me say, money and property do very sad things to people.) and I KNOW that the schedule doesn't matter as long as I ovulate.

This might even work out well...as I'm now due to ovulate, like, three days before I leave for Africa...which would mean plenty of distraction during the TWW, and less time being pregnant in a foreign country when it takes. :) Did you notice the positive thinking there? Also, if it doesn't take, I'll have plenty to distract me and actually might be ovulating late enough in August that I'll be able to try again instead of waiting 'til September.

But it doesn't stop me from wanting to bang my head against a wall. Repeatedly.

Had a lovely Fourth, at least. Went out with my sisters, father, and uncle to see BOC (Blue Oyster Cult, for the uninitiated...they of "Don't Fear the Reaper" fame) and it freakin' ROCKED. Then stayed for the fireworks display in Columbus, which was even more awesome. All in all, a most successful evening.

But I think Food Network has spoiled me. How, you ask?

Well, we went out to Bd's for dinner...which is a great Mongolian Barbecue chain. Pretty awesome food. Any road, we got through our meal and then my sisters and I decided to splurge and get dessert. My sister's order this incredible looking caramel apple sundae, but I'm honestly not that fond of cooked fruit. So me? I go for the ice cream cookie sandwich.

And you know what they bring me?

A freakin' 99 cent ice cream cookie sandwich, still rock hard right out of the freezer and still in a freakin' plastic pouch!

Seriously...no chocolate sauce drizzle? No whipped cream? THAT'S the best you can do?

Maybe a bit elitist of me, but I sent it back. I mean, yeesh, I could have gotten THAT at a gas station. Not restaurant quality.

Yeah. Spoiled.

T-Minus 25 Days and Counting (Roughly)

Heyas.

So...I'm in the official countdown to my first insemination. Just waiting for AF to show up (for, hopefully, the last time for a very, very long time!). And then it's the nerve-wracking wait for the eggie to ripen and release, and the even more nerve-wracking TWW. I'm kind of looking forward to my first TWW...I think it'll be an interesting experience.

I'm slowly getting things together and ready for the Big Day...I'm giving myself one more weekend and then absolutely, positively cutting myself off the caffeine. I'm practicing contortions with hips elevated. I'm faithfully downing my prenatals, and my evening primrose oil. And I found an oral syringe.

That has attachments.

Seriously, there are attachments on a freakin' oral syringe. It's designed to shove medicine and other liquids down a kid's throat, and it's got three extra attachments that I can screw on to it. There's the medicine cup attachment, and what appears to be a wide-dispersement attachment. Honestly, what the heck would I need a wide stream of medicine for? Whatever, as long as it gets the swimmers where they need to be, I'm good.

For once, there have been very few zany adventures for me to rant and rave about in a blog entry. I mean really, generally with me, hijinx seem to ensue in everything I attempt...but things have been remarkably calm lately. I'm having fun with my sister, as she's planning her wedding and we're going to have a fun girls' day tomorrow, trying out menus at the venue she wants to have it at, and going dress-hunting. She's already got the perfect dress in mind, but she hasn't tried it on, yet. So, we'll see if it looks as good on her as it does on the web.

Other than that, eh, all's quiet on the western front. I hope it stays that way, really...less stress for me means better ttc chances, yes? It's a little hard to believe for me...this time next month, I could be pregnant. Yes, yes, I know the odds and percentages of success, but I'm going to enjoy the optimism of the young and foolish while I can. So, Miss-Suzy-Cream-Cheese, I shall give thee free rein in anticipation for next month...may your relentless good energy encompass everything, and bring me my Imp that much faster.

In lieu of a wild, mildly amusing recounting of the latest episode of the Sitcom That Is My Life, I think I'm going to dive headfirst into a simmering pool of unrelentingly mushy goo. Feel free to head elsewhere if you wish, or at least have a bit of insulin handy.

Dear Imp,

It's incredible to me how real you already are, in my head and in my heart. Sometimes, I sit back and think of you and I smile at the sheer warmth and love I feel for you. My darling, enchanting son...my precious, lovely daughter--whichever guise you come to me in, I can't wait to hold you for the first time. I'm gathering all your necessities, making provisions for your future, and each little deed or purchase makes me feel that much closer to you. I've already chosen your name...Sebastian Gabriel if you come as a boy and Lydia Caitlin if you come as a girl. Either way, I don't care...I just want you here with me.

I hope you have my green eyes and I emphatically hope you do NOT inhereit my height (such as it is). I can't wait to sing to you and read you stories. I can't wait to tote you around your first sci-fi 'con, and I can't wait for you to meet the huge, crazy, screwed up family that you will call your own and will love you beyond all reason. I can't wait to sit up at night worrying about you, about whether you'll be happy and successful, about whether or not I'm doing you a thousand disservices, about what kind of parent I am. I can't wait to support you in whatever you do, and create a peaceful, loving home for you.

I can't wait to give you a brother or sister!

Waiting for you and preparing for you has already been the most wonderful, terrifying experience ever, and I can't wait for the whole thing to magnify a thousand-fold when you're truly here. I promise, I will be the best that I can possibly be for you. I will always strive to be better for you, to give you everything you need and teach you how to be the best you can be.

I already love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life, and I can't wait to meet you, Imp...I hope it's soon.

I Drank Those Suckers Under the Table!

This month's OPK's, to be precise.

Heyas.

*sigh* I'm a pretty clever person...honestly, I am. Not being conceited at all. Comes with that whole "teacher" territory, you know? Thing is, sometimes utterly common sense-type stuff tends to elude me. Another character flaw? I'm kind of paranoid...verging on OCD territory, but it doesn't really negatively impact my life. It's a "check two or three times to make sure the door is locked and the car alarm is armed" thing, rather than a "wash my hands until they bleed" type thing. Annoying, yes, but not bad, per se.

However, when the two tendencies combine....

Take this month, for instance. I KNOW when I tend to ovulate. I get temps, and a definite fade-in of LH on my OPK's that corresponds directly with O cramps, cervical fluid patterns, and my charts. I've got my O narrowed to the same 2-3 CD's each month. I know this.

But I'm trying for the Imp next month...really and truly going for it, and so of course the paranoia kicked in. Do I *really* have it? Am I 100% sure? The inner voice starts whispering, and I start getting less confident, and then the inner voice starts telling me I better make *sure* and how to do that. This would be an excellent plan, except for one thing.

My inner voice is, I think, the reincarnation of Lucille frickin' Ball.

"I'm just gonna test the whole 'fertile week' this month!" says I. "I'm going to freakin' *watch* the positive OPK appear, day by day."

So, I go and buy three boxes of the Answer-brand OPK's (the seven days, not the twenty). And I pee on those suckers three times a day, starting four days before I'm due to O.

Thing is, I don't produce that much pee, usually. My solution? I start drinking a crapload of water...and not just any water. No, not tap water for this Elf. CVS was having a sale on SmartWater, which I quite like.

So I'm drinking water that has been filled with electrolytes and heaven-knows-what-else.

*double sigh*

So, 'round about the third day of doing this, I'm literally raising the glass to my lips when it kinda dawns on me...

LH surge is detected by concentration of LH in my pee. Drinking lots of water dilutes the pee. As well as any hormones that are in the pee.

And I'm working myself into a tizzy because the reliable fade-in has not been reliable this month.

And then I'm like: Damn. It. All.

*triple sigh*

So, I didn't get my positive OPK this month...I *think* I caught the tail-end of the surge after I abandoned the drinking like a fish routine, 'cause I got one test that was sooooooo close to positive I literally had to sit and look at it in, like, three different sets of light to decide...but no, not quite. The next tests were of decidedly fade-*out* nature, and corresponded perfectly with the appearance of EWCM and O cramps, so like I said, tail end. Couldn't temp this month, 'cause my sleeping habits have been all messed up getting onto a summer schedule, and I'm sleeping in three different houses depending on what night of the week it is...with three different ideas of acceptable air conditioning...it's just not worth it to try to adjust.

Notes to Self:

1. Clear Blue Easy Digital OPK's are a must next month.
2. Normal drinking habits only.
3. Test between 11'ish and 8'ish only.

*nods*

Welcome to the crazy world of ttc, eh? Still, if this is the craziest it gets, I shall count myself very, very lucky. I can't wait 'til I try my first self-insem...should be one for the history books. I'm seeing a bit of furtively trying to wash the sheets in my mother's house combined with a little something plastic getting caught somewhere unfortunate.

Speaking of plastic things getting caught in unfortunate places...where do you ladies get your oral syringes? 'Cause WalMart, purveyer of all things needful (and/or stamped with the John Deere logo) didn't have any, CVS didn't have any...well, yeah, they had one, but I'll be damned if I shove that sucker up my ladybits! I don't even own a vibe that big around!

Ahem.

Seriously...where does one get them? Vet's office? Doctor? Can you just go into a doctor's office and ask for a little oral syringe?

In case you hadn't noticed...I'm going just a bit neurotic here. It's just, I'm actually going to DO this. I've been wanting this for almost five years...and I decided that this summer would be the try-date a full year and a half ago. Almost five years just waiting to *try* for my Imp. It's a little overwhelming to actually be *doing*. And yes, realistically, I know there's not a whole lot of chance of this taking the first time out of the gate. It does happen, but that's the exception, not the rule. And I can wait, I really can. I just don't *want* to, you know?

I'm also going to be doing this completely by myself. Not the mothering bit...I mean, yeah, duh, SMBC here...of course I'm gonna be doing it by myself. But I mean the actual insemination. I've decided not to tell everyone when I'm doing it and if I DO happen to get pregnant, to keep it to myself until at least Thanksgiving.

Well, not the ladies on the boards.

But the thing is, I also know that a large number of pregnancies end up in miscarriage. That's why so many women can go for weeks and not know they're pregnant. It just shows up as a late period. I think I could handle it if I lost a baby early on. I *don't* think I could handle my entire family knowing about it. I don't like pity, and I don't like people trying to awkwardly pat my hand and tell me it'll be okay.

And, if I do get pregnant and it sticks...no, WHEN I get pregnant and it sticks...I'll have those few weeks when it's literally my own special secret. Me and the Imp, totally just the two of us. I like that.

So, if all goes well...I'm trying in about four or five weeks. I'll order the swimmers to arrive at the end of the third week (lots of welding places around here I can get liquid nitrogen, and I don't mind to pay a fee to keep the suckers here and handy for the instant I need 'em). Heh, I'll be testing in Africa...I also feel positive energy in that. Being on the greatest adventure of my life and discovering whether or not I'm about to embark on an even greater one.

Plus which, I TOTALLY want to announce my pregnancy to the family by showing them a slideshow/video of my Africa trip that ends with a shot of me on Tabletop Mountain or something, with a total Mastercard caption: "Trip to Africa: $10,000 grant; Bug Spray and Supplies: $100; Telling You There's Two of Us In This Picture: Priceless!"

Seriously, how cool would that be?

Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: July insem! C'mon, Imp, Mommy's waiting!

Things currently annoying the crap out of her: my sister's dog. Housebreak the darn thing already!

Pretty Boy of the Moment: James Roday. Word.

When Elves Dream

Heyas,

When I was twelve, I had a dream that I lived in two houses and my mother's family would only visit one house, and my father's family would only visit the other house. Less than two months later, my folks announced they were splitting up.

When I was 22, I had a dream that I was standing next to my car, on the driver's side. All of a sudden, my vision zoomed in on the driver's side window (like a camera had suddenly gone super-close-up) and I woke up just as the glass shattered. That weekend, my car was broken into via someone wrapping their hand in a paper towel and punching in the driver's side window.

Fortunately, I only had fifty-two cents in pennies in the cupholder. Serves ya' right, ya' jackass!

Ahem.

A couple of months ago, I dreamed I had a meeting with my boss, and I was really scared and upset during the meeting, but my grandmother (who passed away this winter) was sitting beside me and holding my hand, and she wasn't worried. A couple of weeks ago, I got into big time trouble with my boss, but it was eventually sorted out that I hadn't done anything wrong and the trouble was withdrawn.

Why am I rambling on about this stuff? I'm sure everyone has those eerie moments of premonition...mostly, it's just our subconscious putting clues together before our conscious mind does, but my dreams tend to come true with a rather startling frequency. The above examples are merely the least strange. But there's a long history of such in my family. My great-grandmother was pretty powerful in some ways...mom swears that great-grandma could see spirits. All of the women in my family have a touch of something like that. My mother and sister are frighteningly intuitive in addition to having the same kinds of dreams I do. Other stuff goes on with us (no, I don't see dead people, but sometimes I think I hear them) but the dreams are the big one.

Now, I don't insist that anyone else believe in that sort of stuff. It is enough for me that I believe it, and I respect others' right not to. But as I approach my first attempt to conceive my Imp, I've found a lot of comfort in what I feel are signs that the universe is in agreement with me that the Imp needs to be with me soon.

Of the brushes I've had with whatever else is out there that my family is so in tune with, my favorite was a dream I had a while back. It started out innocuously enough, with me just sitting at a table somewhere. I had a card in front of me, and in the dream I just knew that the card was from my grandmother. She wasn't at the table with me, but it felt like I had just been talking to her. So, I opened the card, and it turned out to be a Mother's Day card to me from my grandmother. In it was a beautiful message of encouragement...the words escaped me as soon as I woke up, but I remember just sitting at the table sobbing, and feeling such love and support from my grandma. I DO remember, though, at the bottom was a hand-written note that just said, "Pick a good one!" Confusing, no? Except the next day, as I was reading through donor profiles for the hundredth time, I found myself drawn to one that I had previously dismissed, and he became the donor I ordered.

But the dream didn't end there. In that wonderful, abrupt way of dreams, the table disappeared, and I was standing in a store, messing with a computer screen. It took me a moment, but eventually, I realized that I was entering things in an online baby registry and more than that, in the dream, I was pregnant. Not showing or anything, but I knew that I was carrying my Imp inside me, and that it was July (in that odd way where you just KNOW things in your dreams)

Incidentally, Tammy, if you're reading this, this is the dream I told you about on your blog. FWIW, you came up behind me and we started talking, and I remember being so happy that you were finally having your baby. It struck me as odd that you would be in the dream, because at the time, I hadn't really conversed with you at all on the boards, though I'd been a great admirer of the support you so unselfishly gave others. Now, however, I think it was a sign that this summer is it for you...or so I'm really, really hoping. :)

Now, all of this can certainly be explained away with psychology. I won't dispute that. It's wish-fulfillment, and my subconscious working through my regret that my grandmother will never know my baby, and maybe a little bit of my subconscious assuring me that, yes, I am ready for the Imp.

I don't think so, though. Not with what my mother raised me to believe, and not with what I have experienced for myself. And I have no reason for writing this, except it feels good to share positive energy, and as I'm a horrible record-keeper otherwise, I want to keep this stuff as something to remember.

Imp, my love, I'm trying for you for the first time in exactly one month (well, give or take a few days!). I hope I'm interpreting right and you're just as eager to meet me as I am to meet you. I promise I'll be patient and try not to be too hurt if you can't come right away...I know we'll be together no matter how long it takes. You'll forgive Mommy, though, for being a bit hopeful that you hooked up with your great-Grandma out there in the Beyond and asked her to send me a few messages that you're on your way.

Spell That Again Please?

Heyas,

Yeah. So. I have this theory. And work with me here, 'cause it's just a theory...but anyway, my theory is that WalMart is actually an interdimensional gate to the ninth circle of Hell. No, no, hear me out on this. Think about it. Does anyone ever look happy to be in WalMart? Sure, they've got low, low prices, but seriously, look at the people around you next time you're there. Everyone looks pissed off. Or tired. Or both.

Even the greeters look like they can't be bothered, most of the time. And think about the parking lot. Does anyone ever have a good time in a WalMart parking lot? No! Because everyone's jockeying for the same three spaces at the front of the store and everyone else is agry because they couldn't get those three spaces and so have to trek over miles and miles of hot asphalt to be half-heartedly waved into a place where everyone already looks irritated or exhausted. It's full of screaming kids, and harried parents, and bored-looking cashiers, and "sales associates" that really and truly always seem to be just coming off a cigarette break or going on a cigarette break.

So. Hell.

But yeah, can't really argue with the prices.

Oh my darling Imp, the things I am already doing for you.

I got my confirmation email that the Imp's stroller has come in and can now be picked up at the store. You know...the one I got such a great deal on? The one registered to "Elfgirl Sebastian"? So it's hear and available, and I probably should wait another day to go get it because it's already six o' clock by the time the email comes through and it's been a loooooooooong day (okay, seriously, people...103 degree heat plus outdoor "funday" activities for middle-schoolers plus no shade or water stations equals HEATSTROKE!!!! You want me to take my kids OUTSIDE all morning? Are you INSANE?!?!?!?! Thanks for listening to that, I feel better now).

But I'm not a particularly patient person these days, especially when there are goodies involved. So I throw myself in my car and trundle up to the ninth circle of Hell...er, WalMart, browse around a bit (and okay, get a cute little sleeper to add to the clothes collection...it was Tigger! I was weak!), and finally head back to the 'site-to-store' pickup area (formerly known as the layaway area, back when WalMart still did layaway...huh, does anyone do layaway anymore?)

And it's deserted.

"Huh," I think to myself, spying a large sign over a white, doorbell style button on the wall proclaiming: "Please Push Hear For Assistance"

No. That wasn't a typo. *sigh*

But whatever, I push.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And finally notice another, much smaller sign beside one of the little keypads where you can swipe your debit card and enter your PIN, proclaiming: "Need assistance? Touch this screen!"

Well, at least it's spelled right. So, yay, I touch the screen and am informed that an associate is being notified.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And finally "Associate notified. Someone will be with you shortly!"

Well...someone was not with me shortly. Another five minutes go by, and no one appears. Keep in mind, all during this time there are salespeople going in and out of the doors behind the counter. Not a single one of them so much as looks in my direction. And at this point, I'm getting irritated, but stubbornly reminding myself that I worked in retail once and I understand how it is. Yes, yes, I know, they're getting paid to be helpful, but sometimes...the customer really can shove it where the sun don't shine.

I press the screen again. And am again informed that someone is being notified.

At this point, some woman drags her daughter in to go to the bathroom (and I mean that literally...the girl--eh, three, maybe four--is full out on the floor being dragged by one hand, kicking, screaming, crying, and shrieking about how she wants to look at toys, and Mom is promising over and over that as soon as Mommy goes to the bathroom, they'll go look at toys...and I'm sorry, but if I'd thrown a tantrum like that in a public place, my mother would have been dragging my ass OUT of the store, promising over and over again that as soon as we got to the car she would GIVE me something to cry about. Consequently? I only behaved like that in public, like, twice.)

By now, something like fifteen minutes has passed, I've been informed twice by the WalMart version of HAL that someone is "on the way" and I'm pretty sure my ears are bleeding from the sheer volume of the kid's screaming. So finally, I snag one of the endless stream of employees going in and out of the doors to the "backroom" and I'm all, "Is someone on duty, please? I've been here for going on fifteen minutes and your screen has told me twice that someone is going to be with me shortly."

And I kid you not, the lady looks at me and goes: "Oh, I'm sorry! I thought you were waiting for the bathroom!"

Yes. I was waiting for the bathroom.

In the room with absolutely no line for the bathroom.

On the other SIDE of said room from the bathroom.

Practically sitting on the counter of the site-to-store pickup, periodically trying to get HAL to help me by pressing his screen.

God, I hate WalMart.

So anyway, she comes over and boots her little computer up, and is all, "how can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up an order for @#(*@)$(@^%(#*$." (for the record, no I wasn't cursing...I just tried to use my real name to get the order first, as I was on the pickup slip under my real name, and I really wanted to avoid what happened next.)

"I'm sorry, there's no record of that name."

"Oh...well, the order was placed under the name Sebastian."

"Spell that?"

"Sebastian...s-e-b-a-s-t-"

"Wait, s-e-b-what?"

"A-s-t-i-"

"Say that again?"

"Sebastian....S-E-B-A-S-T-I-A-N."

"Huh...I'm sorry, no record...what was the first name?"

"Uh...Elfgirl."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Elfgirl."

*blank look*

"E-L-F-G-I-R-L."

"You...you sure that's the name?"

"Yup."

"Can you spell that again, please?"

"Elf. Girl. E-l-f, g-i-r-l."

"Are you SURE that's the name?"

"Uh, her parents were hippies."

Best part? They couldn't find that name either and had to track me through my phone number. Morons. Didn't even ask me for my freakin' ID...good thing I wasn't somebody who just happened to be reading over someone's shoulder when the email came through, now isn't it?

Yeesh.

But it's worth it, Imp. I have your stroller and your infant car seat all assembled (minimum of swearing...like, only one or two f-bombs throughout the whole process!) and just waiting for you to take your first ride. If all goes according to plan, you'll be in my arms in less than a year (yes, choosing to be optimistic. Sue me.)...can't wait, love.

Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: going HOME this weekend, for a whole month. And after that...AFRICA!

Things currently annoying the crap out of her: WalMart. Obviously.

Pretty boy of the moment: Zachary Quinto. You better not suck as Spock, there, Sylar. Just sayin'.