If I didn’t have Zika before I probably have it now. We ran into our neighbors at the end of our nightly animal-patrol-wagon-ride and stood in the grass for about ten minutes talking while the baby chased their ‘boppy’ (puppy). In that ten minutes I got attacked by all of the mosquitos in South Carolina, and probably some from Georgia.
I used to never get bitten by bugs, I went a whole summer in college on the East Coast with hardly one bite. I come here and I’m getting chased by them in swarms. South Carolina really doesn’t agree with me.
The baby has a complete obsession with her dad this week. It started from a magnet of John as a devious looking kid on his parent’s fridge in Nebraska. She carried around her ‘da-deeee’ magnet like it was her actual ‘da-deeee,’ and now every other word in between ‘boppy’ is ‘da-deeee’ and ‘my da-deeee.’ If John isn’t home, she checks all the rooms for him. When we pull in the garage at night her first word is ‘da-deeee.’ She eats dinner with a picture of ‘da-deeee’ next to her tray.
I’m also in that picture, by the way. But the only one she likes to identify is ‘da-deeee.’
Whenever I tell people this they always reassure me that she’ll like me again one day too. But, honesty, it’s nice to have her focused on someone other than me so I can leave the room for a minute. I realize all this will change when Baby Sweet 2016 arrives. In three months.
We are so unprepared. We literally have four onesies and a pair of socks. At this point with Baby Sweet 2015 we had a nursery, two hundred outfits, bottles, books, baby Ugg boots, blankets…a name. We have nothing. And now John wants to name the baby Ned. And I still haven’t figured out what Ned is short for.
John requested ratatouille this week when I asked him for dinner ideas. I’m not sure he really knew what that was, so I made the most ratatouille-ish ratatouille I could put together in hopes that he would realize he actually didn’t want ratatouille and maybe give me real ideas for meal planning. But then, of course, it was delicious. And extra cheesy.
I finally had an embarrassing pregnancy moment this week. I was running on the treadmill at the gym watching How to Get Away With Murder (which actually gets good the second half of second season, I had completely dropped that show because the first half of second season was awful) and something happened involving a baby. I won’t spoil it if there are any HTGAWM fans left in the world, but the hormones won, and I started choking back a sob. I had to excuse myself from the treadmill and compose myself in the bathroom before returning, fast forwarding through the scene and getting on with my run.
John and I are watching the first Thursday night football game right now–Denver vs Pathers–and it’s just like being back at the Super Bowl. Except not 10,000 feet above the field and not in California and Coldplay isn’t here (thank goodness).
But soon we’ll be close (not at the Super Bowl because we didn’t win the Super Bowl lottery this year) but on the west coast, in Seattle for my dad’s 60th birthday celebration. I can’t wait to get out of the south, to some mountains and trails and west coast food and cooler weather and NO HUMIDITY. I even tried to stay in Nebraska last weekend. I think we’re ready to move.
Have a great weekend!
(Linking up with Thursday Ramblings here.)