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"In this tempestuous, havoc-ridden world of ours, all real communication comes from the heart."

- Etty Hillesum

March 29, 2006

And then Blue said, "Let there be light."

We live in a really nice house. I mean, it�s nice enough that I never actually thought I�d live anywhere quite this nice. When we were looking at houses, my attitude proved that I�m so not a girly girl. I hate shopping. And house shopping was no exception � I was so tired of looking at houses I kept saying, �that one�s fine� � �that�s great� � �that one would be fine.� Until we got to this house � my husband actually dragged me out that day (Blue: �I found one more, come on, I think we�ll really like this one ...� Me: nooooooh, I don�t want to look at another house!� *whine*) and the second I set foot in the house and looked around I started getting all teary eyed. �We can afford this house? Oh my god. I love it I love it! This is *the* house!�

So it�s a great house.

But even though it�s really the dream house it�s not perfect, right? There are a few things I�d change if I could, but most of them have to remain part of the house�s charm.

One thing, however, was changed last night, thanks to my fabulous, wonderful, loving, awesome husband.

You know how when someone builds a new house, they can have lots of choices? Carpet, paint, trim, what faucets they want, light fixtures, yada yada, the list can be endless. So the people who originally owned this house had generally decent taste, except when it comes to the kitchen and the light fixtures. I always found the main light fixtures to be cheap and ugly looking � (although I don�t remember being critical of them until after the house was officially ours � haha). But seriously, I�ve whined to Blue about the light fixtures on and off four a year and a half now � I believe that at least once I�ve told him I hate those light fixtures �with the fire of a thousand suns.�

A few weeks ago Blue and I were taking a road trip and we stopped at a Dairy Queen to get something to drink. As we walked in, I noticed something familiar. I couldn�t put my finger on it.

�Honey,� Blue said. �Look! Our kitchen light fixtures!�

�GAAAAH!� was the noise that came out of my horrified mouth. Over every table hung one of our light fixtures. �We are getting rid of those cheap motherfuckers as soon as we get home. I swear to all that is holy.� I muttered to Blue.

He thought it was the funniest thing he�d ever seen � I was mortified that the light fixtures in my house can also be found in Dairy Queen and (we�ve also found out) your local Denny�s restaurants.

Last weekend we went shopping for a lawn mower and we wandered down the light fixtures aisle at Lowe�s.

�That�s it!� I said, pointing excitedly to the display. �We�ll put this one over the kitchen table, and these two over the island with the stove.�

So we found some gorgeous light fixtures and bought them. (Of course Blue had to point to another part of the aisle and say, �Let�s buy that one!� as he was pointing to the same damned ugly DQ/Denny�s fast food crap light fixtures that already graced our kitchen. �Knock it off, Funnyboy,� I replied.)

I came home from a VERY long and emotional day yesterday to find that Blue was in the final act of hanging our new light fixtures!

And they look mah-velous, dahling. Absolutely mah-velous.

I am sitting at the kitchen table right now, occasionally looking up and smiling at my fabulous new lights. Aaaaah.

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Today�s the day.

I�ve got to go and get showered and get ready to head to the outpatient surgery center, where two of my previously-frozen but now thawed-out multi-celled children are waiting to burrow into my uterus.

Oh yeah.

First, a little valium to relax the cervix (and the patient�s mind). Then, 8oz of water to partially fill my bladder. Then, a walk to the OR. Then, they�ll strap me down into the lovely gynecological knee-stirrups (the kind that do not let you move or wiggle around). My fabulous, naked cooter will be facing the door so that every doctor, nurse, tech and embryologist who comes in the room can take a peek (why? An extra form of torture for the patients, I imagine). Then the doc will come in and, if he is anything like he was the last time, he will forget that I have a face and he will immediately talk to the cooter as he begins his work.

First a speculum will be inserted (size extra large, ouch � apparently they only stock speculums that fit cavernous cooters at this surgical center), and then a catheter with two embryos will be inserted through my cervix and guided via ultrasound to a spot near the top of my uterus. Then a little whoosh-whoosh and they�re in, baby. Or babies.

Then I wait until April 7th until we know for sure whether or not it worked this time.

I�m obviously optimistic, or we wouldn�t be doing this. However, the real voice in my head is saying, �Eeh, it won�t work. Don�t worry �bout it. Life will stay normal and you�ll stay non-pregnant forever.�


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Last Few Entries

Back? - November 10, 2007
Just a break. - June 19, 2007
Caddy day in the pool. - June 05, 2007
Sleep! And sleep, and sleep! - June 01, 2007
Happy days are here again ... - May 30, 2007

� More about Etty Hillesum, the woman in the photo.�