Monday, August 14, 2006


Sorry for the screw up on the last post. As much as I fancy myself an Internet mom, the blogging thing is still new to me. Plus, as I have mentioned, I am doing this from my parents' house. Perhaps while trying to publish my last post, their modem (which used to be powered by a hand-crank, but recently was upgraded to a hamster running on a wheel) seized. (Maybe the hamster seized.)

So, as for my two-week vacation here at home (or my childhood home, I should say) with my has done wonders for my bruised soul. First, I am 100% blessed with an awesome family. Nearly every member of my immediate (and come to think of it, extended) family is raunchy, funny, kind, perverted, loud and ready to laugh. It's not a Hallmark family. It's more of a Howard Stern family.

Add to that the locale...the shores of Lake Huron. Now, if you have never visited or seen the Great Lakes (and please don't confuse them with the Great Salt Lake of Utah as has been done by a former acquaintance--an Air Force Academy graduate, no less), these are no ordinary lakes. Most people say lake, but they really mean pond. Lake Huron is as vast as an ocean, for all practical purposes. What I mean to say is that you can't see across it and were you to find yourself far enough from shore, you might not be able to see land in any direction. The best news of all is that the water is warm, salt-free and NOT teeming with anything that might take a bite out of your arse if you swim while having your period. So, it's a menses friendly vacation destination. Not that I had my menses while visiting this time. That should be next week, knock wood.

I love coming back home, and it was especially important to me to get home for this trip, not only because I needed to time to heal and rest from my recent miscarriage, but because I had actually planned this trip for earlier in the summer, only to have to cancel it due to the precarious state of that pregnancy. We (daughter and I) spent most of our time with the g-'rents and my sister and her kids, while my brother and his family flashed in and out during the two weekends. Twelve people in a three-bedroom house (read: Aerobed Central). Cottage living, great weather, swimming, skiing, napping and strictly following my FAF plan*. Miraculously, very little miscarriage discussion after my first few days home**.

Now I have to go back to reality. I guess, being a few weeks past it, I'll be in a better frame of mind. (It also won't hurt that we turn around three days later for a week-long vacation with my husband and his family. I'm thinking of taking up vacationing as my new career.)

But still. I think there may be ghosts waiting back there for me. Not to mention my RE.

*After almost four years of scrupulous living, and with the knowlege that I wasn't trying to get pregnant during my travels, I devised a "Fat As Fuck" diet, alcohol and exercise (avoidance) regimen. I have been very faithful to it.

**Except this bizarre conversation that normally wouldn't have bothered me and really had nothing to do with my fertility (or lack thereof). My sister-in-law grew up on a small farm with cows and horses, etc. about ten miles north of my parents. Anyway, from time to time her parents turn one of the cows into, well, hamburger and distribute the end product among relatives and friends, including my parents. Somehow, she revealed that they typically choose mother cows who no longer bear offspring to send to the slaughterhouse. All I could think was, I'd be hamburger by now...


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