June 7, 2010

Hiding: Day 53 -- Condensed Homecoming

1. Hugs, flowers, chocolate, new coffee maker.
2. "We got new bathing suits!" (Read: tankinis I've specifically made a policy against.)
3. Meltdown.
4. Attempt at communication, explanation, resolution with spouse.
5. Fragile resolution: Husband leaves room, depressed wife self-medicates and dissolves into pathetic, weeping wad of self-pity.
6. Compassion, communication.
7. Shared nap for the first time in WEEKS.
8. Woman discovers archeological jackpot: McFaddin Beach, TX (east of High Island).
9. Shared enthusiasm.
10. Excavation trip inspiration? = Something new to look forward to?


The McFaddin Beach Excavation Trip is EXACTLY what the doctor ordered. Secluded beach for miles and miles, well enough west of the oil spill that the kids should be able to swim with no trouble, a heavy concentration of archeological artifacts for Miner and I to beachcomb to our hearts' content, possible camping locale.

What more could we ask for?

I think it's funny our idea of a great beach vacation differs so dramatically from what most people envision. Don't get me wrong -- I love resort style vacations as much as everyone else, but moreso the idea of seclusion and the chance to find fossils and prehistoric artifacts. That makes up greatly for a lack of white sand and piƱa coladas.

The kids are definitely getting their Earth Science.


"Grand Multiparity" - Having had more than five pregnancies; quoted br Dr. R***** in reference to me on the ultrasound order.


Ate crab cakes and cabbage with him at dinner table. Talked about rocks and projectile points. Watched "Wolfman" together on the couch. Talked about dentistry. Now, he's gone, and I'm feeling awfully incompetent and unprepared.

Took prenatal vitamins for 4th night in a row (Good job, 'Ailina). Small responsibility successes.

No goals for tomorrow, except to find out accurate due date.

Bottom line: Feeling better, but damned scared about facing tomorrow alone. And very worried Wednesday appointment won't happen the way I want it to. Irrational fear, probably, but the anxiety is real.

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