Dang it. I had some grand plans to walk to Olbrich Gardens today via Monona Drive, go through the gardens and walk back on the bike path. It was going to be a nice long walk to enjoy the beautiful summer day. Except, Morella just started her afternoon nap at 1:40. I was hoping she would sleep while I was pumping, and then maybe later on take a short evening nap. Sigh. I guess I can use this time to tidy up around the house, wash bottles, freeze milk, make a bottle…do the dishes. Nutz. Why can’t someone else do the dishes?

Before her nap and after her bottle I felt like going outside and just walking slowing on the side walk. We walked down to the end of the block and back to up a few houses. I noticed that the Japanese Beetles are back. They must have all emerged over night because there weren’t any yesterday or the day before that I noticed. I need to go downstairs and find our bug traps and set it up before our Birch trees get decimated like they did last year. Stupid bugs.

Pluto has an ear infection again. I should have figured that out two days ago when he sat beside me on the couch and he smelled like dog. Stinky dog. Which is unusual, especially since he had a bath less than two weeks ago. Hm maybe that is how he got it – from swimming. In any case, one of his ears looks broken and he shaked it all time. Tim is going to have to take care of that…tonight. I think he also needs to start working on his nails again because the clacking has increased since his last nail trim.

While I am talking about cats — Migo is now skinnier than ever. But she is still active and looks like she is eating, and pooping and peeing okay and sleeping fine so I guess I shouldn’t worry until I can see her entire skeleton. She is such a good kitty. She loves Morella and comes to get pets from her all the time. Today I gave her some kitty treats while we were in the kitchen even though she totally ganked a piece of cataloupe from my bowl this morning — twice!

This weekend was pretty good, Sunday could have been better as it was the second day in a row that Morella has been boycotting the bottle. Sigh. We stayed around the house most of the day. I took her outside to blow some crappy bubbles for awhile, and then we all took a nap and then headed out to the dog park for a walk. It seems to happen 50% of the time that as soon as I get there, I have to go pee. There isn’t a bathroom that is close to the dog park so you pretty much gotta suffer. Sometimes (shh, it’s a secret), I run off and do as the roman dogs do behind some shrubbery — which I HAD to do when I was pregnant) but it was too busy this time for that to happen.


Got sidetracked doing the dishes, wiping off the counter, making bottles, cleaning up messes on the floor, doing a load of laundry — I still have some more thing to do like hang up clothes on the rack, bring up the diapers and sort them, and hang up the bug trap. But I couldn’t let this post be abandoned!

Anyway to finish yesterday off, everyone went to bed early but me. I felt like a bad Mom for Morella not eating enough — feeling like maybe I am not trying hard enough. The pizza I made for dinner sucked (I don’t like the bread machines dough recipe, I should find a new one) and I started to feel anxious. Oh I forgot to mention that we bought dog food for Pluto before going to to the dog park. I took Morella in and weighed her again on the pet scale and she registered 15 lbs and 4 oz. That means she only gained two ounces in two weeks or so. An ounce a week! That just threw me for a spin, which of course later devolved into a tornado of anxiety. I feel like I am the only one who is concered about this weight issue and her lack of interest in food. I feel like … that one actor who I don’t like that much who is in Elf, and Blades of Glory — uh Will Ferrell. Anyway I feel like when he said in Zoolander “I feel like I am taking crazy pills!”

Um. What else. I actually have lots of thoughts rumbling around up there today. One of which is infertility and talking about how a baby was conceived. I guess when I talk about Morella, sometimes I feel compelled to say “We had some help” in getting her — especially if the conversation is relevant like the person implies it was a shared bottle of wine, an accident while on vacation, or a ‘we decided it was time and got lucky on our first try.’ However there are a lot of women that don’t like to admit this and take offense when someone asks if they had help. I guess that might be more common in cases of multiples and advanced age — but isn’t it better to admit to it? I mean, by not talking about it isn’t that perpetuating the feeling that IF (infertility) is something to be ashamed about?

I know I was desperate to hear stories of women who had or needed a little nudge in the right direction to get that bundle of joy. I remember thinking that we were abnormal and somehow failures for not following the happy norm of love, marriage, house, dog and kid. I thought infertility treatments were only for the rich, the old and the biologically handicapped (same sex marriage, cancer survivors, rare cases like missing uterus’s etc). I didn’t think it could happen to me and I would have loved to have met someone while going through this, in real life, would have meant a lot. I am grateful for the wonderful community of women I have found online who went/are going through the same thing. I don’t know what I would have done without them.

Anyway. That’s what I was thinking about while doing dishes. I guess, I am also willing to say we needed help because I want to convey just how much this baby was wanted and that she was no mere “accident.”

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