I have been out of the house every day this week. In fact, I think I have been out of the house every day since about last Tuesday. 0.0 I dislike this. It makes me tired and crabby.
(Mostly errands, but a couple of doctor's appointments and one visit to family which I will mention right in the next take.)
Last week I made what I intend to be my last "long-distance" trip until next spring sometime, driving the 80 miles to my parents' house for Teresa's 7th birthday. (Yes, I did just drive up there the week before for my baby shower. The gas budget is going to be shot this month.) Anyway, here's a picture of the birthday girl:
Isn't she getting SO BIG? Woe.
And here she is with the present Scott and I got her--we stopped by Wal-Mart on the way into town, because I plan ahead like that. She liked it anyway.
(She is wearing all black because she was dressed as a black cat earlier in the day. I think she pulls it off nicely.)
When we first arrived at my parents', Matthew pointed to my belly and asked, "What's that?" Mom told him it was a baby. He thought for a moment and then pointed again and said emphatically: "Ball."
That night, he woke up crying at 3 a.m. I woke about halfway up and thought in a panic, "The baby is crying! Where is the baby?" Then I woke up all the way and realized that it was Matthew and that he was sleeping in my parents' room, so surely they would take care of him. And I went back to sleep.
|I think this is supposed to be a lamb outfit, but Matthew said he was a bear, rawr.|
On Sunday morning, Mom and Dad went out on a date while Scott and I babysat the littles. (We had all gone to the vigil Mass.) Matthew was up with the sun, so he was wreaking havoc in the family room when Teresa finally woke up and came downstairs.
As soon as he saw her, Matthew yelled "SISSIE!" in the happiest little voice, as if he hadn't seen her in days. It was pretty adorable.
On Monday night, Dad was giving Matthew a bath and as they were drying off Matthew was babbling something about "Mommy, sissie, baby."
"What baby?" Dad asked.
"Mennin, Dott," Matthew replied.
I think he figured out it's not a ball.
|Playing with the trains I got him for his birthday and Christmas last year.|
He recently hit the phase of being OBSESSED with "choo-choos."
I don't think I ever mentioned that my grocery spending for September turned out to be $199.61. Hooray for being underbudget!
So far in October I've spent $198.15. Other than being out of mayonnaise, we're pretty set as far as food goes, too. (I could probably get mayonnaise with that $1.85 remaining, but I am lazy so it probably won't happen.)
I am super proud of myself, by the way, because I have been diligently tracking our spending this month--putting things into the budget spreadsheet once or twice a week, instead of once every month or two. It makes for a lot more accurate accounting, I'm sure.
Not that it really matters; it just lets me know exactly how much of our savings account we're bleeding this month.
(The Medical > Other category is $999.23 so far for October. That is...not exactly a number compatible with our income.)
My little luxury grocery purchase this week was pre-cooked chicken nuggets. I have a major aversion to processed foods, but at this point in pregnancy (I'm TIIIIIIRED and everything HURTS), it isn't really a choice between chicken nuggets and nice balanced home-cooked meals. It's a choice between chicken nuggets and candy or ice cream. (Which are also processed AND which mess with my delicate, insulin-resistant metabolism.)
I ate those for lunch on Thursday after I came back exhausted from grocery shopping, and they were seriously delicious, maybe because they only took 2 minutes of microwaving and I didn't have to touch any slimy raw meat.
On Wednesday my mother called and woke me up in the middle of my nap to ask about a no-bake cookie recipe. I sent it to her, at which point she realized she was out of oatmeal. So I was awoken for no reason.
Except then on the way home from the bus stop later that day I was telling Scott about the dream I had been having when the phone rang. It involved playing a video game, the details of which I will not bother giving. Scott thought my dream game sounded so cool that he spent the entire evening pacing around writing game design notes on index cards.
We are weird but awesome.
I don't have any particular plans for the next several days except going out with my husband (We haven't had our monthly ice cream date yet, and when you're dealing with a thousand dollars in medical bills you might as well throw in four dollars of ice cream...) and making cupcakes. From scratch. To eat with my chicken nuggets. :)
It's kind of the deep breath before the plunge, though, because our calendar for November is already packed with getting-ready-for-baby type events. And I still have half a thought of doing NaNoWriMo, because that isn't so much another obligation as it is forced time to sit down and breathe and do "me things." I might need that in a few weeks so I don't completely freak out about how we're poor and/or how I'll be full-term the Saturday after Thanksgiving and the carseat is in our dining room and the crib is in pieces.
Yeah, not thinking about that.