1. I don’t have anything to say.
2. There. Now that I got that off my chest maybe I’ll come up with something to talk about.
3. Oh yes. Let me tell you about Mr. Handsome’s odd behavior. I better start at the beginning.
Mr. Handsome works with a guy named Tim. Tim is young; Tim is bald. Tim likes my cooking; Tim is cool.
Tim’s wife was pregnant with their first baby up until this Monday when her water broke. (Well, she didn’t have her baby right then and there—it wasn’t actually until the next day that the baby got borned, but you know what I mean, right?)
Anyway, Tim and Mr. Handsome were at work when Tim got the call, and Mr. Handsome later reported that Tim, a normally measured, careful worker went all wonky, banging things around, rushing, and jittery as all get out. Mr. Handsome dropped Tim off at the end of the work day and then came home and told me all about it.
And then he told me all about it again a few minutes later.
And then he set about worrying that Tim’s wife would end up with a c-section because she was being induced.
And then he ranted against inducements and medicine in general, and (loudly and angrily) mourned our culture’s dis-empowering view of childbirth. (He didn’t say it like that exactly—he doesn’t use words like “dis-empowering” in his regular, ranty old speech.)
He wouldn’t shut up about the baby. His enthusiasm was sweet and cute.
And really, really odd.
First thing the next morning, he-who-does-not-care-about-email made a beeline for the computer. There was an email. Tim had a baby girl and there had been no c-section. Mr. Handsome relaxed a bit. And smiled.
And then the next evening, over our supper of leftovers, he announced that he had stopped by Tim’s house on the way home from work. He said—and this is my husband we’re talking about, a man who (unsuccessfully) put his foot down after two kids, a man who is not inclined towards lovey-dovey-ness of any sort—this man said,
“That baby was so cute! She had a whole bunch of hair and was so pretty, and she just laid there. It was enough to make me want another baby! What do you say, kids. Should we get another one of those?”
The kids stared.
Mr. Handsome continued gushing like a geyser.
“And Tim and Virginia, they were glowing. I mean, when Tim walked across the room”—and Mr. Handsome walked his fingers across the table top to demonstrate—“his feet never touched the ground! And Virginia was sitting on the couch but there was this whole cushion of air under her. It was amazing!”
Never before had I heard Mr. Handsome talk like so. Not about our babies, and certainly not about anyone else’s babies. I still can’t make heads or tails out of it.
And I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I might never be able to do so.
4. And no, that story was not a roundabout way of telling you I’m pregnant.
5. Yesterday I made an apple pie and dumped the flour all over the floor.
6. Today I made apple dumplings and I didn’t dump any flour.
7. But I feel kind of dumpy nonetheless.
8. I’ve been rather uninspired in the kitchen. No obsessions, no fancy/weird/new dishes brewing. I’ve been feeding my family things like Farmer Boy Pancakes, spaghetti and meatballs, roast chicken, sloppy joes, meat and cheese sandwiches, and baked oatmeal. They’re thrilled and I’m bored.
9. Mr. Handsome is figuring out that he’s lactose intolerant. He’s been cutting back on dairy, switching from regular milk to lactose-free milk to soy milk. He feels much better off dairy, but I’m not 100 percent sure it’s really the problem.
See. he has a habit of imagining ailments and illnesses with wild abandon. He says things like, “I didn’t sleep well last night. It must’ve been the popcorn I had before bed.” Or, “I didn’t sleep well last night. It must’ve been the ice cream I had at supper.” Or, “I didn’t sleep well last night. It must’ve been because I was hungry when I went to bed.” So I don’t pay him much mind.
(In fact, when he told me he thought he had cancer ten years ago, I laughed. So he went to a doctor shortly thereafter and then promptly had surgery because he did indeed have cancer. Let me tell you, he’s milked that attachment injury for all that it’s worth—and then some. But still, I don’t listen to him. I’m a cold-hearted woman.)
Regarding the milk problem, I’ve set up an appointment for him with an allergist. I want to know exactly (more or less) what I’m up against before I revolutionize our diet.
To sum everything up, our diet is kind of in limbo and that puts a damper on my kitchen puttsing.
10. And I’m anxious about my new camera. I ordered it last week, but when I placed my order I learned that the company was on holiday because of Sukkot. (Apparently they’re Jewish.) I keep hoping that maybe they’ll just send out the camera anyhow. I mean, my order was pretty straightforward so maybe it will just kind of happen to get mailed…somehow. Every time the UPS or Fed Ex truck go by, my heart starts to race and I suffer shortness of breath. Then when neither truck stops, I get all morose and sit on the couch thinking how much fun it would be if the camera would just materialize on my lap right now.
This same time, years previous: Peposo (beef with black pepper and red wine)
Love this post. We're having our third kid in a couple of months, and I love seeing how excited my husband is getting about it.
Mountaineer, Um, right. Makin' that change right now.
Inductions? Or, inducements?
You'll love the new camera! It's the one I have…lots of fun! ENJOY!!
You crack me up. I'm sure Mr. Handsome is hilarious in his own right, but your story telling ability had me in stitches.
As for the food allergy thing, I know all about that. We are a Gluten and Corn free family, which is not Lactose, but we can commiserate together.
Lastly, so excited for your new camera. I've got a post up my sleeve about my newest camera purchase.
Aunt V, You make a good point re the age thing.
About the one flip-flop thing: it was Thursday that I took that pictures, and on Thursdays I only wear one flip-flop on my left foot. On Tuesdays I wear one only on my right foot. It's a balance thing with a side of weird.
Seriously…THE FLIP-FLOP IS RIGHT THERE BESIDE MY FOOT. The flour landed on my right foot and I took off the flip-flop to shake it out and then hobbled over to get my camera and returned to take the picture, never realizing the loops my one shod foot would send readers through. From now on, I'll keep my shoes on when snapping photos!
#1 … I don't have anything to say either.
#2 … Unless you want another child… I'd stay away from Mr. Handsome… but if you do… it sounds like he's in heat…Did I just type that?
#3 Why are you only wearing one flippty flop? Is this part of your new belly dancing routine?
#4 I didn't know you had tile floors in the kitchen… interesting.
Cute flip-flops! I didn't see the second one until I looked at the rug three times. I find that food allergies really put a kink in my cooking. I hope they are not *real* and you can go forth with reckless abandon in your kitchen. Male behaviour is about as easy to figure as Mandarin Chinese in Iowa. And I hope the camera fairy delivers your new camera today.
If I'm figuring correctly, the "young" Tim that you're referring to is only about 1 1/2 years behind you.
There's this great Irish movie called The Snapper in which the father of a pregnant teenager suddenly becomes a lot more interested in pregnancy and birth than he ever was for his own children. A little distance without the intense vulnerability of "my own experience" can shed light on things we thought or felt all along. Pretty interesting.
Well that's a roundabout way to find out that the boy I used to babysit is now a father. That's exciting!
That is so cute what your husband said. 😉
I like lists.
I LOVE the Mr. Handsome story. It's so interesting. Male behavior. Interesting and mysterious. I guess New Baby Love can sweep up the best of us.
You take great pictures. Excited for you and The New Camera!
Nothing like the feel of a home with a new baby in it…
well I'll be jigdammed. I think I know the happy family! Although the grapevine didn't tell me about the baby yet.