Well, I feel like I've been called out, thanks to
Fr. Athanasios.
So I could maybe link to
my other blog, the current subject of which is due in September, God willing.
Recently, I've been doing the pregnancy thing. I'm not sure why it's called "morning sickness," since the medical term seems to be the Latin for "vomiting of pregnancy" (charming, eh?). In any case, I seem to be sticking with my father's joke: "Well, it's morning somewhere." Consequently, I have not been doing much of anything. I have only just started to feel better ... except that whenever I *do* start to feel better, the rest of the day goes downhill and my husband has his moaning wife back again.
My birthday was this past Friday. My husband had already gotten me the totally awesome present of the first two
Monkey Island games, and baked the usual Lenten-chocolate-cake-and-icing-from-scratch which looks lumpy but tastes wonderful (well, it's chocolate). My mother, with true insight, got me a duct tape wallet kit. Fr. James gave me my husband for the entire afternoon, which we spent watching basketball on television (and computer). I treated myself to attending the Akathist hymn at church in the evening.
Hopefully, my husband will post a version of his sermon from yesterday on his blog. Meanwhile, I will take another moaning break with some ginger ale. I mean, get back to cleaning the house. (How did we get so much stuff packed into what's going to be the baby's room anyhow?)
Labels: cleaning, family, friends, sick
