We made it through Christmas with no hospital visits, no running away, and no physical wounds. I'm calling that a success. I'm so glad it's over, now I just have to get through New Year's. I can't believe it will be 3 years since we said goodbye to Aiden, and I can't believe I'll be so heavily pregnant when we mark the date.
I've been in such denial with this pregnancy I only last week decided that I should tour hospitals and look into hiring a doula. I hope I can find one this late. I took the Bradley classes with Sunshine and found them extremely helpful, but when it came down to labor I didn't use a lot of what I had learned because there wasn't someone calm and detached there to remind me what to do. My husband tends to freak in hospitals no matter what and seeing me in such pain completely panicked him. He was less than helpful for most of what was a long and difficult labor. I'm hoping to avoid that this time around because after 2 episodes of months long back pain following epidurals, I am desperate to avoid meds this time.
Anyway - my title is a project I'm going to be working on shortly. Turning my cute, fluffy, murdering tabby cat into a pair of warm fuzzy slippers.
**warning - if you don't have a strong stomach, don't read this. I'm not kidding.**
I was having trouble falling asleep (hence the blogging at midnight) and tossing in bed when I heard my cat's collar bell ringing constantly, along with ominous choking sounds. I leaped out of bed, thinking he had gotten the collar caught and couldn't get out of it. On the way to the light my heel hit something squishy and warm. I flipped on the light to see massive piles of puke all over my bedroom carpet. I was just in time to save my pajama bottoms. As I went to clean it up I checked the, um, contents. This is the cat that once ate fishing line and had to have surgery that put us back a grand, so I wasn't taking any chances. The first pile was red and bloody with lots of black globs so I was rather alarmed. Until I noticed a tiny rack of ribs still intact. My murdering SOB of a cat had eaten some poor small fuzzy woodland creature and then come inside to deposit all the bits on my carpet. Awesome.
I can't believe I managed to clean that up, let alone examine it, without tossing all my cookies. Sometimes it pays to be a biologist. We tend to have strong constitutions. I am going to attempt to sleep now, but you can be sure I'll be taking a flashlight if I have to get up to pee.