July 10, 2009
For the first time in six weeks, the sun has been shining in Maine. And no, that is absolutely not an exaggeration. I can't even begin to tell you how happy and relieved I am to see some yellow light in the blue, blue sky. Greyness wears on my soul, and let me tell you, my soul was dangerously close to kicking my husband's ass. Thankfully--due to the weather and not my propensity toward self control--we're still very happily married. The bliss marches on.
Anywho, we had a big week over here in the Lawson house, so I'll go ahead and catch you up on things:
1. I'm now officially 27 weeks pregnant, and according to most sources, that means I'm in my 3rd trimester. In honor of this milestone, I've become absolutely huge. Here's a story to prove it: There's this creepy guy in my office building--you know, the type who has a weird ponytail, outdated glasses, and is so stinking quiet you question whether or not his lips are sewn shut? Mmm hmm, that guy. But yesterday, when I walked past his door he did a quick double-take, and before his mind could filter his mouth he blurted, "Whoa! What happened to you? You look like you're about to explode!"
I stopped, stared for a second and said, "Ummm. I'm pregnant?"
And he was all, "But what happened?"
So I was like, "Well John, sometimes, when man and a woman love each other very much, they..."
Thankfully this phone rang right on cue, because honestly, I had no idea where I was headed with that story.
2. We actually bought a new car. I'm not lying, it's sitting in my garage. Right next to the '89 Blazer that I love so much.
Jared thinks we're going to sell the Blazer for for $500 in the newspaper. I, on the other hand, think we're going to slap some antique plates on that beauty and start featuring it at local car shows--Bondo, rust, and all!
Official Kelly Blue Book value: $181.
3. Last night, when I brought the new car home, Jared was itching to go for a ride. I, in my infinite wisdom, suggested that we take James to the local strawberry farm--after all, I heard a rumor that they have baby pigs. So off we went, with a four year old boy, a very new vehicle, and light grey interior to enjoy the sight of swine.
When we arrived at the farm and asked for the piglets, the friendly farmer directed us to a big clump of woods, telling us that "The pigs er back thar."
We drove back to the one acre-ish stand of trees and sure enough eight baby pigs came barreling out of the woods and toward the electric fence. Well, seven actually--the brown one just kept on lounging in the food trough.
These suckers were up to their elbows in pure mud, and James was (obviously) thrilled beyond capacity. He leaned over the fence to pat a piglet on the bum, tripped over the electric fence, and landed in the pig mud.
I stood there, silent, shocked, reluctant to grab my child--because hello!, I have no idea if he's a conductor of electricity or not, and I was in no mood to get shocked when I had a perfectly able-bodied husband standing directly to my left.
I was like, "Jared, save him."
And Jared was like, "I think you should save him, he needs his mother."
So I was all, "I'll save him, but next time you want me to touch your you-know-what I'm putting on a pair of wool socks and rubbing my feet all over the carpet before I do it. That way you'll know how your kid feels."
I won. Jared picked him up. Turns out the electric fence was off, thank heavens, stars, and goodness.
So now, we have a sweet new car with an iPod jack and the scent of piglet poop.
It's good to be a Lawson.