Monday: Bitterness and Woe

So, a few years ago, I read this great series of books by Sandra Gulland, who is an expert on Josephine Bonaparte, the wife of Napoleon.  The first book in the series is titled "Tales of Bitterness and Woe", and I often use it as an epigram for my darker days.  It is a wildly dramatic metaphor when compared to Josephine.  Her bitterness and woe was that her first husband was killed in the revolution, she was imprisoned, she went into early menopause because of malnourishment in prison, met Napoleon, and became his wife. Then, she struggled with infertility and Napoleon made her have a series of fertility treatments that seemed to entail being dunked in and hosed down with ice water.  When this did not have the intended effect (!!), Napoleon left her for a 17 year old, and she really had no choice but to stand placidly by lest Napoleon punish her terribly or stop supporting her two children from her first marriage.  Then all her teeth fell out.

SO, clearly, when I say "bitterness and woe", I really only mean that I have been further confined by my confinement. I have had to sit on the couch all day needlepointing and watching a very uplifting documentary on Bill Cunningham. I am not even remotely approaching Josephine's problems.

Anyway, Bill Cunningham is the street style photographer for the New York times.  He was born in 1928 and is maybe the most pleasant, humble, principled creature about whom I have ever watched a film.  He is just a lovely man with a little old camera and a bicycle that he rides all over New York.  I loved it!!

Thursday: Small Walk, Small Swim, Church Social

Confession:  While I am writing this, I am watching The Beaver, with Mel Gibson who is totally redeeming himself with every word of this film.  I am loving it, and Jody Foster is totally cute, and I have not seen her be cute for years.  

This morning, after popping Sloan the Younger off to nursery school, I headed into the doctor's office and then was able to get to the gym for a stroll on the treadmill, and then I swam 2100 meters at a slow crawl.  I made it to nursery school to pick up Ivan.  We had a little Curious George time at home, before getting ourselves together and heading out to the church social.  

Now, Ivan was excited to hit the church social, as he got to play in the church nursery with other kids.  I was excited to hit the church social (actually called the Women's Sherry) because everyone brings an appetizer and it is a total smorgasborg of homemade appetizers.  Someone actually brought bacon wrapped club crackers which I have not seen since I was a small child, but which are three kinds of delicious.  Now, what I actually ate a good bit of was the smoked salmon, the fresh veggies and these basil, goat cheese, tomato things that were just so delicious.  There were two full tables laden with appetizers, and I circled all night.  

On the way home, Ivan and I drove to Krispy Kreme.  He chose a jack-o-lantern donut and I chose a chocolate iced kreme filled, which are my favorite.  I had sort of been craving it for a while, and I am glad that I made the effort to satisfy that situation.  It was crazy delicious.

Finished The Beaver while typing.  It was an unexpected finale, but still a real cinematic treat!!

Wednesday: I Spoke Too Soon

Look how Ivan and I have the same ears

I promise never to mention potty training to you again.  It will not happen, I will not do it.  You will be in the dark forever.  Maybe when you are 92 you will wonder to yourself, "Did that Young Sloan ever take to the indoor plumbing?", and I just won't discuss it.

This is because; we were doing well; we fell off the wagon after the great pregnancy drama of two weeks ago; we recovered; and then we fell so far that I was beyond consolation, and now we may be on the up and we may not be, and I will never speak of it.

Anyway, I take some comfort in the fact that a lot of things went south after my emergency pool drama.  Soemone stopped potty training, someone started climbing out of bed at 3:00 in the morning and clinging to me like a spider monkey, and someone started rejecting his bedtime and insisting that there were monsters.  Sort of sadder still, someone wants to be carried and held, and I really cannot do either thing.  Aaahh, the heartbreak that appears to be ensuing in the process of adding a new member to our family.  It is rather tragic and adding to the burden of my worry and guilt.

At the very least, the Sloan home is baby ready.  The trundle bed mattress was accomplished today, and now there is really only the finishing touches on Ivan's new sleeping situation and a few bedding choices.

In the evening, I was able to swim 2000 meters slowly and carefully at the rec center, with no adverse effects.  So, I can apparently keep swimming, but honestly, I cannot attend swim class at my regular pool  after the events of two weeks prior.

Sunday: Not a Day Off

OH and today was a full day.  First of all, and I have been reluctant to mention it, but in a strange turn of events that I have been powerless to influence, Young Sloan has started using the potty just like he is a regular person with normal indoor plumbing proclivities.  Now, it is probably wildly foolish of me to even speak of such a thing out loud, as I might jinx myself.

We had a couple of days lapse when I was in the hospital last week, and this is largely because in my poolside drama, I snatched Ivan from the pool nursery and put a diaper OVER his underwear for the ride to the hospital.  His confusion can only be imagined, and I am sure he was suspicious of where this new level of potty training was leading him.  It took a while to make sure that we were resuming bathroom habits as usual, and now we seem to be back on track.  We made it through all of church without an accident today, and we went to both animal day, Sunday school and service, so we are on the up.

At church it was animal Sunday, and a woman at church brought a rabbit, a dog, a cockatoo, several turtles, chickens and her goldfish for all the children to see.  It was an impressive menagerie, Ivan was pretty excited, and then went to his Sunday school class without issue.

At home, I had a baby sitter so that I could sneak around the corner to the gym and walk on the treadmill and then swim a mile, monitor how I felt, and report to my doctor to determine if I could continue a modicum of activity.  Everything went well, except that I can really only walk 1200 meters before having to speed walk to the bathroom.  Then I speed walk back and keep walking, and I know I complained about it when running, but the walking just seems so silly to try to keep up that it may not be worth the effort.

Swimming was much better solely for the free pee element of a swim workout.  Though my mile was slow and sad, it put me in such good spirits.  I hope to swim all week.  Though I would like to keep walking in my neighborhood, as it is easier to drop and pee when it become necessary, the neighbors are judging me.  AND, I sort of get it.  I get that after the events of last week, everyone thinks I should be sitting on my couch, regardless of any doctor's release or permissions.  It appears self absorbed, and I really only have very little time left at this point.  So, I will keep sneaking to the gym around the corner, and no one will be the wiser.

Also, today Ivan and I were working on a craft and Ivan told me that I was his best friend.  Thilling!!!  I am sure that this will last all the way through puberty, adolescence, college, and his eventual marriage.

Saturday: My Life is one Big Day Off

When Ivan begins to write his Mommy Dearest/ Running With Scissors-esque memoirs, I am certain that he will start with a story that I realized today is absolutely true:  Every time he gets a Happy Meal, I eat his french fries.  I think there is a possibility that he has never tasted a McDonald's french fry.  He has certainly eaten french fries, just not McDonald's.  He does not even ask about the fries, and he is probably afraid to, because I suspect I start in on the fries with the intensity of a grizzly bear just awakened from hibernation.

Today, in yet another foolish decision on my part, Ivan and I decided to head to McDonald's for an early lunch and some time in the play place, which ultimately went sour as it always does.  I ordered an oatmeal, for a late breakfast and ordered Ivan a Happy Meal for an early lunch, but first somehow, ate all of Ivan's fries.  Does that not sound like the worst carbohydrate combination you have EVER heard?  Fries, then oatmeal.  I mean, I am pretty disgusted with myself, though it was not half bad.  I realize that I am gestating and maybe a gestating person has a higher propensity for odd food couplings than your average person or maybe french fries go with everything and that is all there is to it.

Anyway, our play time went South when young Sloan was given a 15 minute leave time warning, and he climbed the great play place tower of death and refused to come down. This lasted for a good 20 minutes until he finally dropped his guard and slid down the slide where he was grabbed by the ankle, and hustled with many a reprimanding word to the car.  Consequences were administered, and ultimately ended in a pleasant afternoon at home.

Settled in to watch the third installation of PBS's Prohibition series.  It is fabulous!!!

Sunday: Confinement Drama

Ooooh, Confinement drama.  I had this fabulous swim on Wednesday, only to get out of the pool and have all sorts of unfortunate confinement emissions make themselves known on the pool deck.  After a call to my doctor, a friend schlepped me and Ivan to the hospital, where I sat around with my parents hooked up to heart and contraction monitors.  There were many invasive things that happened, before I was carted off to ultrasound.  Post-ultrasound, I was discharged from the hospital, asked to keep an eye on myself, and said to call back if confronted with anymore confinement drama.

Now, I retrieved Ivan, packed him off to stay with my parents, and arrived home where I sat on the couch peacefully for ten full minutes before, OF COURSE, having more confinement drama.  I received a mandate from my doctor to head BACk to the hospital where I spent the night being monitored before being discharged again on Thursday morning with bed rest instructions.

I have sat about the house, watched a four hour documentary on Napoleon, needlepointed my life away, and visited with friends who were kind enough to bring some amazing food.  I made it through yesterday with a positive spirit, but today is the day that I realized that I was not a strong person.  Four days into bed rest (and really only partial bed rest, I can move back and forth between the bed and the couch and shower once a day), and I am at the breaking point.  My nerves are ready to snap, and I feel doomed to bedsores and misery.

Just so you know, Napoleon handled bed rest much worse than myself.  Back to the doctor tomorrow and hoping for the best.

Monday: Swim

This morning, Ivan and I were pretty much on time to swim. We had a bit of fit throwing upon nursery entry, but overall everything went well.  At the pool, I got in 2300 meters, which is a bit disappointing to me.  I definitely spent way too much time chatting today, and I have got to stop it.  I HATE getting out of the pool at sub-3000 meters.  It makes me feel like I have wasted time, which I have.  Now, I will say that I did several finless kick sets, which is great for me to do, but incredibly slow.  So, even though the yardage was shorter, it might have benefited me more in terms of practice.  Still, 2300 meters is rather sad.

At home, Ivan and I made lunch, I performed about one million phone errands, and then after Ivan's nap, ran physical errands.  At home, Ivan and I played frisbee and made dinner.  It was a nice afternoon.

Now, after Ivan went to bed, I headed out to Whole Foods for what are quickly becoming the most expensive and time consuming cookies ever made.  During my confinement, I have had all sorts of food issues, and have had to be careful about dairy and gluten and food dyes and honestly, I am so bored even recounting it to you.  SO BORED.

Anyway, this weekend, I was a reading a really boring blog called The Gluten Free Goddess, and it is all about foods that you make to substitute for real foods as it appears that I am never going to get to eat another cookie in my life.  I found a recipe for the best, chewiest chocolate chip cookies ever.  They are dairy and gluten free, and I have been salivating for them.  I was determined to make them even if I had to mail order tapioca flour.  The ingredients were things I did not know existed, like sorghum flour and again, I am bored even tell you this.

So, I put in an initial ingredient search at the local Publix, where I found half of the ingredients.  Then I searched Whole Foods for the rest of the ingredients and I am going to have to substitute coconut flour for tapioca flour, but whatever.  Surely it will still work out.  I thought the cookies would be made on Sunday, but ingredient acquisition has honestly taken up my whole weekend and Monday night.  Also, regular all-purpose flour like the good people at tollhouse recommend is cheap, friends.

When you start buying Xantham Gum, things get really pricey, really fast.  However, I have four weeks left of my confinement, I do want some cookies, and everyone is going to have to get over it and let me throw myself into baking on a bizarre level.

Also, I had these amazing gluten free cookies while I was in Montana, and they were honestly better than anything I have ever had, I felt fine after eating them, and there you are.  I clearly need these cookies.  Alas, now that I finally have all the ingredients, it is too late to do anything, but tell you all about it, go to bed and get to this cookie business tomorrow.