Bean Art

A few months back, our friend Lisa's computer died and I brought it back to life. Though they didn't have to, they got us a gift certificate to our favorite art gallery, Local Girl (right down the street in glorious Lakewood, Ohio.) We stopped in today and Jason found this. We've titled it We & The Bean. We're wondering if there's any significance to the two leaves rather than one though...

Stinky Bean

The vet called. Max is fine. No bladder infection, no hyperthyroid thing, no kidney whatever, no nothin. Just attitude.

I sit and stare at him. I'm so tired of soaking up pee every night when I get home. The carpet is crunchy with enzyme cleaner. What's the deal you pisspot?

I search online and, later, my mom confirms, we think Max can smell the bean and apparently he's not too happy about it.

So I start a regimine of extra luv and hope it works.

You Shittin' Me?

Now that we have the okay, we visited the Williams' last night. We took a stack of photos from Christmas, Dad's Birthday and last but not least, the one shown above. It's from New Year's Day. The day I realized something was up and peed on a stick.

Mom went through the stack first. She gets to the last photo, THE photo, and squints. First she guesses tampon instructions. Then she guesses pregnancy test. We say yep. She stands up, starts crying then says, "You shittin' me?" Then booooo hoooo hoooo! (but the happy kind).

Dad said he knew a few weeks ago. I wasn't drinking his beer.

Me and my family = classy.

and happy.

Whough, Whough, Whough, Whough

Today we walked up to our first doctor's appointment. Our new doc rocks. She's no nonsense, sturdy and told me to drink coffee, have an occasional glass of wine, eat chocolate and take as many baths as I want. Whattoexpectwhenyou'reexpecting be dammed. That book can kiss it. I drove myself mad for nothing. Hooray for my reclaimed vices.

She also told Jason that pregnant women are supposed to be gassy. Hormones cause gas. Lots and lots of it. So now he can't yell at me any more.

Then the best part. She squirted some jelly on the belly and used doppler (like dual doppler but without Dick Goddard's radar) to check for a heart beat. The moment of truth.

Here's what we heard {click}

We both laughed. That's 100% joy right there.

WHOPEEDINTHEHOUSE! THAT's BAD!

Today Max and I took the car to the shop then walked the vet's and walked home. He's been peeing (and sometimes pooping) in the house for the past month or more. Even when we're there. He's 9. He knows better. So we figure something's wrong. First we blamed it on Grace (or I did at least). She took it all in stride. It was Max.

So, the vet checked him out. She thinks he has hypothyroid issues. We'll find out next week.

You Need An Outlet

Jason has been saying that for a few weeks now. Especially before we told anyone about the bean. Especially when I was going on 3-4 hours a sleep a night, waking him with tears, asking how long the first three months were going to last. Middle-of-the-night sickness. 2am sickness. My mantra: I will not puke. I will not puke. Then 5 o'clock rolls around again and off to work, back home, fruit for dinner because everything else sounds gross, in bed by 8, awake again by 12.

I do need an outlet.