This and That

Thanks guys, your comments really keep me going.

I am going to lighten up again, with an account of my somewhat humdrum (but occasionally entertaining) life.
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I fell asleep again, right before Dancing With The Stars. D'oh!

I can't even blame the progesterone. Ok, body, what gives?

I woke up and had one cat (Mr. Crankypants) on my chest, and the little one snuggled up behind my head. Freaks. They're like little heat vampires. Maybe that's it, they are sucking the energy right out of my body. I totally would not put it past them.

By the way, Play-Skool? Thanks for twisting the knife repeatedly, every commercial break, you LINT LICKERS.
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I had a pretty good day today, Play-Skool nowithstanding. I had a free day (and potentially, another one tomorrow. Yay!) I have been working on going through our cabinets, and I have gradually been using up stuff in the freezer and making room for my fall accumulation of Ziplocs full of frozen soup. I like to pile them up in the freezer like gold ingots.

I also made some breakfast bars as kind of an experiment. I need to tweak the ratios, but they're really pretty good, but a little too crumbly. As a hand-held snack they're not perfect, but thrown into some yogurt, and I am a happy camper. Hooray for domesticity!
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The Man: "I don't feel very well."

Internal Me: "Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

External Me: "Like how? Like the flu, or like a cold?"

The Man: "Like.....like...."

This is the part where he turned green before my eyes and ran for the bathroom. I could hear the retching all the way through the house, and it was possibly the most awful thing I have ever heard. My tummy twinged in sympathy.

I am a crappy nurse, especially when barf is involved. After we repeated the drama a second time, I asked, "It's not the flu, is it?"

He's military, and they all get flu shots, no question. Ok, so food poisoning? But....

Me: "Well, it can't have been dinner...because I made that, and the energy bar you had when you got home. And you said you hadn't eaten all day. Maybe you're sick?

The Man: "Chicken..........BURRITO." He hung his head and looked clammy.

Me: "What chicken burrito?"

As it transpired, he made a burrito for breakfast this morning, and left it in the car and then ate it for lunch.

That thing must have seriously been toxic, because I just now hear him getting up for his sixth round of retching, poor guy.

I have made ginger tea, and put a big bowl and a glass of water next to the bed. I have a feeling that I may be heading out to Walgreens shortly for some Pedialyte. That's about ll I can do, besides patting him gingerly on the back between sessions, otherwise we will be puking in tandem.
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I got two e-mails this week. One from my sister, inviting me to visit her for a weekend in SF. It will hopefully be the first weekend in November. YAY!
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The One Where I Say A Bunch of Stuff that Unintentionally Came Spewing Out and Might Get Deleted In The Morning.

The other one was from a friend whom I miss desperately. She was the first person I ever knew who was infertile IRL, and the Clomid worked for her right out of the gate. We would talk for hours. She lives out of state now.

But I can't e-mail her back. And the reason why is a tragedy unto itself. It doesn't help that she has four-year-old twins, and she always seems to put them on the phone, but the biggest reason is that I went to visit her when she still lived in Cali.

Her husband made a pass at me on the third night of a five night stay. While I was on the couch, and his mother-in-law was in the guest room, and the babies were about a year old. He had just come home after being out of town for a month.

We had all gone out that night to celebrate, and had a lot to drink. I was sleeping on the couch downstairs. While I blame part of it on the fact that there was alcohol involved, in retrospect, I can recall that he bought quite a few of the rounds, and his wife drank so much that we had to help her up the stairs.

I have the sick feeling that this was brewing for awhile, and I was just in denial about it.

I woke up to the feel of big hands stroking my legs and feet, and someone murmuring that I was beautiful. It took a minute to register that while I had been dreaming about my husband, this wasn't him. All I could think of at the time was that he was risking so much, and why? I was pretty out of it at the time. I told him to go upstairs to his wife, and he went.

My friend and I went out to get Starbucks the next morning, and I thought, "This is it. This is my chance to tell her. Oh God. How can I bring this up? Is she going to blame me?"

That's when she started telling me about how uh, energetic he was with her last night. And how happy she was that he was home. How she had missed him, and how she loved having her family back together again.

And all I could think of were those beautiful babies. If I had that, would I want to know? It's not like anything actually happened.

I chickened out. Her Mom left that night, and I moved to the guest room and locked my door. I spent the rest of the trip avoiding the drinks he tried to give me.

I can't stand to think of it, and I feel so guilty and awful every time I try.

And I have never been able to relax around any of my friends husbands after that.