Tag Archives: Friends

Oct31

Socks has a blueberry!

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I’m behind on my Baby-Socks update. Halloween got in the way!

We didn’t have our phone call until Friday, and it was short as I needed to get our Halloween costumes together. So, my update will be a bit short this week.

Socks had another ultrasound done, and got to bring home another photo. Due date is confirmed at June 14-15. Currently, the wee one is the size of a blueberry! I love the way her baby books give her fruit similes.

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She was shopping for a ‘pregnancy journal’ but they weren’t very good, nothing like what she wanted. So, she bought a new Moleskine and started her own. She works on it when watching TV, until she falls asleep… she did say she’s not as tired as she was, but still much sleepier than pre-Booberry. Nausea isn’t too bad, but she gets grossed out easily – even at cartoons. No cravings, really, but she not very interested in food right now. Except bacon. Mmmm, bacon! That in itself is a bit strange as she doesn’t eat bad things like bacon very often.

Her mom is finally reacting the way she was expected to all along – going bananas! Mr Socks (Bear), who is normally very shy, is telling people about their pregnancy all the time now. He’s even having conversations with male friends about “birthing plans.” I wish I could have eavesdropped on that conversation! Bear is also making sure she gets enough iron, because she can’t take those ginormous iron horse-pills right now.

So, over all – everything is fine, baby is perfect, she feels great, and her boobs have gotten 15 years younger. Yay for perky boobies! Enjoy ’em while they last 🙂

Oct20

Socks has a sweet pea!

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Ooo, lookit me, blogging on the night of Oirish Tirsday instead of waiting until tomorrow! Socks had stuff to do, and I’m suffering a hangover and wanted an early night, so we only talked on the phone for 2.5 hours. Yes, that’s a short call!

iDJ is still broadcasting his live radio show upstairs, and the floor is shaking, the walls are thumping, and he is singing. Oh dear. Sounds like Testament is on now, so he’s really rocking out!

I had to go up and share the fun, it was indeed Testament, Trial By Fire. Yay! I’m a metalhead, and really like it when he gets in a bit of old school thrash during his show. The next song was Megadeth, Wake Up Dead – oh yah, baby!

Our neighbours must hate us on Thursdays.

Anyhoo, Socks had her first obstetric appointment today! Everything is fine and good and normal, hooray! She is six weeks along, and the due date is June 14. There’s another ultrasound in a week to confirm this, but we’re pretty sure that’s accurate, since every moment has been planned and documented by Mom.

Wow, I got to call her mom! This is so strange and new to me, and I’m not even centre stage here. But I can only write about my reactions, right?

Socks had an ultrasound today, and got to see her baby for the first time. She said her first reaction was “Oh my god, its real!” Baby is TINY, the size of a ‘sweet pea.’ I had to ask for clarification on how big that is – bigger than an orange seed, apparently. BabySox is currently developing a jaw, cheeks, kidneys, and has the barest beginnings of ears, eyes and a nose. Pretty cool, eh?

Socks was so happy to see the living proof, too. So very happy that she got all three doctors in the room excited and happy along with her. Even the student (that she gave permission to attend) told her congratulations. Aw! She really made me giggle when she told me that this tiny dot is the cutest baby ever, with the most beautiful heartbeat! There’s a good mom in the making. It is fascinating to see Socks change the way she thinks and feels so fast. She admits that if you told her a week ago she would think of such a small, unformed thing as beautiful or cute, she’d have laughed you out of the room.

She’s sleeping a lot, and just starting to feel a little whoopsie at times. Oh, the fun is just beginning! I bet she names the toilet, because she’s gonna get so intimate with it they should be on a first-name basis. She’s also craving savoury food and not sweets, and meat more than she normally would. She’s already a fantastically healthy eater, and it will be fun to track cravings. Doritos are apparently off the menu already, and Swedish meatballs are on. For now…

Love you, Sweet Pea! Thanks for bringing me along 🙂

Oct19

Wine sucks

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I have to write something! I’m sitting here, just goofing around fingerpainting instead of putting words on paper. Um. Pixels on pixels? Just what the hell is it called when you write digitally, anyway? We need new clichés.

I actually do use paper on occasion. Mostly to make a quick note to remind me of something funny, or a good turn of phrase I want to keep, something I want to Google later, or a date of importance. I have a crap memory. I blame it on all those drugs I did in the 60’s. Drugs, at least, would explain why I cannot keep to a single topic in a paragraph. Bad writing? Probably. Do I give a shit? Obviously not. This blog is me upending my cerebellum and splashing around in the puddle.

How many topics did I fit in there? I could have kept going.

Right, notes. I have four from last night, two from conversations with iDJ and two from the KIBIS meeting. One of the ones from my beloved relates to wine, and I have a photo to share, so without further ado, let’s talk about wine!

It sucks.

Okay! The ‘meeting’ was great craic of course. I’m glad we are making an effort to have a get-together regularly. Lawsy me, I do need a social life. We mostly talk about our pets, because we are all animal people and all have at least two fur-persons in our respective homes. Our representative from Italy (hereafter Mrs MMC) currently has way, way more than two, in two countries and at least three houses. Wow! Loads of stories, and despite English not being her first language, she can really tell a funny tale. But I can’t share them, because I wasn’t taking notes. Well, except for those two times I mentioned…

Mrs MMC and I share our homes with menfolk, along with the other animals. We have picked menfolk who are particularly good at letting animals manipulate them. If one of their cats miaows at her hubby he panics, trying to figure out what kitty wants: Do you want me to make you a sausage? Some take out? A curry?

My other note was about when they are at his parents’ house. Now, they feed a lot of local strays, and there are a lot of strays. Mrs MMC catches and has them vet checked and sterilised at her own expense, by the way. Thank you! Anyhow, there are always a rake of kitties outside on the back patio. When the parents aren’t home, Mr & Mrs MMC leave the door wide open and let the furry masses troop in and out as they please.

Right, maybe you had to be there.

Back to wine. Here’s iDJ’s temporary workstation last evening:

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Yes, my Halloween decor is over the top. Feic off. I love Halloween.

Please note he has the essentials: Plastic Halloween wine glass, Mac laptop, and a box-o-wine, all ready to hand. Blargh! Even if I could stand wine, I cannot imagine boxed wine decanted into plastic tastes good. Yes, dear, I know we’re broke (that is for when he reads this and gives out to me for making fun of cheapo wine in a cardboard bottle).

Ugh! Just now: I needed to check the internal temperature on my pork roast. I’m not allowed to bend over cuz of the bad back, so I got on my knees in front of the oven (I’m tall, this put me eye level with the meat thermometer). iDJ starts in right away about how he never sees me on my knees anymore. Like, as in prayer (we are atheist). I told him I was praying to the pork, then wished I never, ever, said that.

Back to wine. See, I hate it so much I can’t even be arsed to keep writing about it for 10 minutes! M’man was giving me stick about not liking wine, and pulled out his old standard, “One of these days. I’ll keep working on you.” This got him a glare of rage and a rant about how, at my age, I fucking well know what I like, and no amount of different colours or flavors of wine was ever going to convince me that wine is palatable.

He kept at me, and I finally shut him up by threatening him with the words that have been uttered many a time since blogs were invented – just not said by me.

“Don’t make me blog about this!”

Oct18

Miss Mildred Fierce has been Brushed!

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Hi! I have a KIBIS “meeting” shortly, so no time for a long post today. However! I have, for your perusal, Miss Mildred Fierce!

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This gorgeous gal is someone I’ve never met, but she always has a kind word for everyone – unless you are a greedy government pig, then: Watch Out! She’s super smart and has more style and class than a room full of Siamese cats.

Oct17

Bird has been Brushed!

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Hi! I have another friend to introduce you to! This is Bird:

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She’s going through a patch so rough, she’s got cactus spines stuck in her jeans. I hoped I could cheer her up a bit, and apparently it worked!

On the technical side, I learned a lot with this one. I really like the new way I did hair, and using color to outline the lips and face instead of just black really worked.

Thank you for modelling for me!

Oct14

Auntie E’s Socks update

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Yay, it’s Hangover Friday, which nearly always follows Oirish Tirsday!

Obviously I’m not going to recount every minute of the several hours Socks and I spent on the phone. But, this is where I’m chronicling my view of Socks’ journey into motherhood, so off we go!

First off, just for you, Socks – ask him!

I’ve not laughed so much or so hard on the phone with my girl for a while, for obvious reasons. But this time I nearly peed myself, and I had to take notes. They don’t make much sense, now, but I’m not pregnant and so can drink all the rum n Pepsi I want. At least I can read my own handwriting for a change.

So! Socks hasn’t been to the obstetrician yet. They want her to wait until she’s a bit further along, and will listen for a heartbeat and do an ultrasound then. This is scheduled for next Thurs, so waiting for the next phone date will be stressful for me. Do I need to say that it is much more stressful for her? At this point, the positive pregnancy results are all from home based pregnancy tests.

A lot of them.

Because she’s been peeing on a stick every damn morning for a week, just for something to do! Just to see the line get darker every day. I find this hilarious. My mental-picture-generator is in overdrive with this one. I see the garbage can in her potty overflowing with empty boxes and used tests. I also wonder if she’s saving them? How tempting, for someone like me who saves sentimental stuff. How horrifying, for someone like her hubby, Bear, who had to ask her to move the DRY pee-test from the side of the bathroom sink as it was freaking him out.

Wow, is he in for a wake up call! What if it’s a boy, and has the skillz to pee straight up, into daddy’s eye, during a diaper change? Ok, don’t even tell Bear that this is quite possible.

My other good note is a direct quote, “I love my life, and I want to fuck up every aspect of it.” it would take too long to explain the context, but I love that sentiment so much.

She’s also got some loot from family and friends: a high chair and crib, both too old to be sold due to modern health and safety laws. Still okay to be gifted, though, and the numerous babies who survived these dangerous, well-loved and well-made, wooden items can attest that they aren’t bits of furniture that are actively out to murder babies. We also agree that anyone stupid enough to let a baby’s arm or leg get trapped in the bars of a fold-down crib railing probably shouldn’t be procreating in the first place. I think it’s great she’s got heirloom items that will suit her style, personality and height (sorry, had to!) so well.

We’re also trying not to worry about the fact she isn’t barfing yet. Apparently, you only start doing the morning technicolor yawn after so many weeks of being preggers. But, as she says, she’s a pukey person. Hey, I didn’t say that, she did! Anyhow, being prone to yarking in general, and not yarking yet, is slightly concerning. Not everyone barfs, but it seems her family all did. The female ones. When they were pregnant. I felt the need to clarify that because my mental picture factory is playing again: everyone gathered round the table for a holiday feast, each with a bucket-in festive colors!-by their side. Oops, grandad lost his dentures, better get the tongs!

Well, if Socks wasn’t puking before, she probably is now.

Sorry, grandad.

Oct14

I’m feeling visual tonight

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I’m having more fun putting up pics tonight than writing, sorry. I bored myself with the baby oil & dog food post, I think.

So, here’s some more of my digital art. I’m using Brushes for iPad, and it’s all finger painting: you cannot use any other tool but your finger to draw with. Great fun! This is my friend Ineedahome. She lives in Alaska, and the photo I worked from was taken while she was on a moose-hunting trip in the Yukon. When I saw it on FB I had to draw her.

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This gal is awesome! She’s super creative: amongst other things, she does guerrilla knitting, collects and cleans skulls, writes, sews, and loves zombies. I’m forever grateful to have met her in a Florida Wal-Mart and being brave enough to make friends. I’m also happy to live in this digital world where two former Floridians that now live in Irleland and Alaska can talk and share our lives daily. Love ya!

Oct12

Real stuff has been going on

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Huh, I can ramble on about nothing in particular with ease, but I’ve had real life fun stuff happen, and I don’t want to try to put it into words! Strange! So I think I’m figuring out what parts of me I want to put on here, and which ones are for FB.

That said, I had a great, great night last night with the Kiltimagh International Blow In Society, or KIBIS. Yes, I made that up. Yes, I meant to put ” women’s ” in there, but I can’t figure a way to make a decent acronym that includes a W. KIBIS sort of works. It could also be a C instead of a K for the town, or even CM. We played around with CMWIBIS, but that looks really Welsh, and I don’t know of any Welsh women, locally. CIWBIS? Ugh, this is hard 🙂 Ideas, anyone?

Crap, I should explain ‘blow in!’ that is what you are called when you are clearly not from Mayo, but have made it your home. I was the senior blow in last night! No, not cuz I’m old, kiss my arse. I’ve been here longest. Sheesh, I thought you liked me.

Anyhow, KIBIS was attended by an American, a Canadian, and an Italian. We also had my dog, who is American in breed name but is in all actuality a Galway Girl. Technically still a blow in. We had Canadian cookies and American beer, and tears of laughter that were 100% Italian.

Both boy cats and the boy iDJ were upstairs. We weren’t being sexist, it was their choice. More cookies for us!

If I had been taking minutes of the meeting, they would have been covered in snot from me laughing so much. I did make one note: Vegetarian Irish Wine Drinking Cat. Imagine that as an accurate description of one of our many, many pets, and you’ll have an idea of what we talked about all night!

We really hope to have regular meetings, and possibly expand our membership to include Japan and Slovakia. As long as they like animals, of course!

Here’s the three gals having a sickening love-fest on the couch. It’s hard to say which one is smiling the most!

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Oct9

Socks, part deux

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***Some of my readers might know who Socks is, from other social media outlets. Please keep any comments about the content of this post ON this blog, and not elsewhere. I have her permission for this post, but we all know this is an anonymous blog for the moment, right? Thanks, y’all!

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So, I’ve been putting this post off since I started the blog. I feel I have to get this out before I can forge ahead and talk about stupid things again.

I think I made it clear that Socks is damn important to me. She’s my inspiration, not only for writing, but for anything creative. She and I had great plans for a mutual project, and I never even started. See, I was journaling, but stopped, and that was part of the project. My blog is my new journal, in a way that seems to work better for me. Therefore, I need to hold up my end of our joint writing enterprise, and talk about babies.

Travel back to January with me. Socks and I are having our weekly blab-a-thon, and the topic of kids comes up. She’s been thinking about them, about actually having one! Well, this is new. We’d decided ages ago that they are too much work. They make a lot of noise. They cost a lot of money and time.

But most of all, they…leak.

Fluids.

And solids.

All the time.

Now, I’m not bothered by this aspect of children. You just deal with it, and hope like hell you have a good washing machine, cuz that sucker will be running daily for years. But Socks? Not so much.

Ever seen one of those funny video shows where someone is lying on the floor (usually dad because men rarely think ahead), holding a baby over their head, bouncing it up and down, and laughing? And then junior pukes rancid, lumpy, half-digested hot milk DIRECTLY into daddy’s mouth?

Right now, somewhere in the world, my BFF barfed up her last meal just from reading that. There is very little chance of her dealing well with this happening in front of her. Even clear baby drool makes her go totally phobic.

So, of course, when she starts talking babies I remind her about the fact that they leak. Because I’m not having kids, for my own non-fluid related but equally valid and well-thought-out reasons, and I sort of don’t want her to turn into Just Another Mom. I’m a selfish bitch, and I don’t want her to change. Because I’m an honest selfish bitch, I tell her this. She agrees, whew! Barf, and the chance of her turning into someone different, someone …. well I hate to say boring, that’s not the best word. Someone that is no longer ‘Socks’ and is just ‘Mom.’

Yes, I KNOW how that sounds. Bear with me. Anyway, crisis averted.

Except… it isn’t. Despite my attempts to hog her whole life, she talks to her hubby about why they decided not to have kids.

Turns out, he thought she didn’t want them, and she thought he didn’t want them. And they both DO want them. Well, now, don’t I feel like a jerk. Game on!

So, not to go into too much detail, plan Team Building was instigated. How cute! Awww, I love these guys.

I was the only other person who knew they were trying to get pregnant. Loads of reasons, mainly due to her wanting to surprise a certain family member with the good news. Because I was the only person not actively involved in Team Building, Socks and I wanted to come up with a creative way to record how we felt during the journey.

As I said earlier, I totally let down the Team. I’m not sure why. Maybe I was in denial, maybe I was too stuck in my own head with my own issues. Maybe from 3,000 miles away, it didn’t feel real. But, I never wrote one word. See ‘selfish bitch’ above.

We still had our weekly teleconference. I heard about each disappointment when Aunt Flo showed up, that dirty old hag. I couldn’t help, but I mentally changed from being a spectator in the stands into someone that wanted to buy pom-poms and lead the cheers from the field. Figuratively. I doubt her hubby would have welcomed me in the bedroom, even if I was in a cheerleader skirt.

Go, Team, Go!!!

Finally, there was a touchdown, a goal, a try, a slam-dunk. They have a positive result! I got a phone call in the early afternoon. Yay! Now, we can make plans! And great plans they were. The timing was perfect for Socks and Co to tell her family in person, which is exactly what she wanted all along. Just a few weeks to wait. So hard to keep the secret!

It didn’t happen that way. They lost the baby. She had to tell her family the sad news, over the phone. Oh, sweetie.

I cannot talk any more about her loss.

I can say that I now am able to talk about the journey I had the privilege to be a part of. And now, I can talk about it here. Because this is not a tale of sadness, this is one of joy, no matter what else happens.

My best girl is pregnant again!

This time, she doesn’t have to wait until Thursdays to talk about it. She’s got a much bigger support network, and I’m happy about that!

My selfish self is happy to finally want, and need, to record my thoughts about my future niece or nephew. Because if I don’t get called Auntie E, I’ll be grumpy.

Hint, hint 🙂

Oct8

Please meet… Socks!

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Hiiii! I have to talk about a very important subject. Very!

My best friend, Socks! Here she is, as illustrated by yours truly:

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Isn’t she gorgeous on the outside? Well, the inside is so stunning you’ll lose all interest in plastic TV people and shallow fictional characters. I will never be able to do her justice using mere words, or a Brushes finger painting.

But, fuck it, I like a challenge. Here’s the smallest glimpse into why I have the best best friend in the world.

She fell in love with her next door neighbour when they were both kids. She never wanted anyone else, and she never would, or had to, settle for less. They’ve been married over a decade now. He is soooooo lucky.

She’s a fab artist in a bunch of different medium. Mediums? Shit, I thought I knew how to write. Different artistic materials that you use to make artistic stuff with. She’s so good my English fails me 😀 She’s so good she could teach, and has.

She sends REAL MAIL. Not a big deal? When’s the last time you got a real letter or postcard or package? How about one that is an original painting, and tells you how fantastic you are and how much fun the sender had in the act of creating and sending it? Yeah, it’s a big deal.

So far I’ve not gotten personal, but this is: she sends me things all the bloody way over here! It costs a fortune to send silly things like Peeps, or giant candy canes, or Kraft mac n cheese to another damn country, but she does. Things I can’t get here, and I mention without thinking about it… show up on my doorstep. I live 3,000 miles away from anything I ever knew, and everyone that I’ve known longer than seven years. She sends me bits of ‘home’ so I don’t get too sad and lonely. She’s the one who realised that I might need such things in the first place.

She puts up with Oirish Tirsday; our weekly phone call, that goes on for hours. Yes, we’re both married. But some things you can only talk about to a best friend. And she listens, sooooo much better than I do. Hence her sending me prezzies from ‘home’ that I bring up in passing, and immediately forget about.

She’s funny. I get to snort laughter more on an Oirish Tirsday than I do all week.

She’s a genuinely nice person, but not a doormat. She recently had to meet someone that did horrible things to her and her family. I never, ever, would have met with this jerk. Her hubby didn’t understand why she would, either. But because she was incapable of being even the tiniest bit of an asshole, they met…and it was fine. Even, perhaps, good. Wow, babe. You are way stronger than me.

She takes care of everyone, and I mean everyone, in her life. I worry about that, that it is too much for one person to handle. But I’m one of the ones she takes care of, and I don’t want her to ever stop.

There are some, just some, of the reasons why this gal rocks my world.

We talk, obviously, a LOT. About anything. Sex? well, duh. Self-analysis? yup. Art, writing, music, food, pets, our respective menfolk, family, the occult, cannibalism, murder, and poop. Actually, I think we talk about poop more than any other single topic. Hey, it’s a never-ending source of humour!

Back in January, a new topic came up. Children, babies, having them, why and why not. Well, it wasn’t a new topic. But it hadn’t been talked about in ages, because we’d agreed that kids are oooky.

And I think I’ll leave you hanging, here, as there is sooo much more to say still.