9 1/2 Weeks

So, we’re getting there… now almost 10 weeks along and feeling a little better!  Don’t know if it’s a good sign, or if I should be concerned, but the queasiness has eased a bit and I’m now able to eat homemade burgers and chicken sandwiches–boy, have I missed eating ‘real’ food. For the past few weeks all I’ve been able to stomach is fruit (which isn’t a bad thing) and some cereal and toast.  Yogurt was a on/off thing… but now things to be looking up (yea!).

Tiredness is still here, but that’s expected.  Now that I’m only working one job (rather than the previous two) I’m able to allow more time to relaxing and looking after myself.  Again, Carl has been a tremendous help to me by taking care of everything.  I love my man!

I pray I continue to feel better and better, as part of our family is due in in less than two weeks for a visit, and then not long after that we’re leaving on holiday–I really, really want to be able to enjoy myself then!

Plans for the long weekend: relax, relax, relax.  Started it off well with a lovely lie in and now ’tis lunch time!  Roll on lazy Saturday.

Bean with a Heartbeat

Yes, we are expecting! Praise the Lord, we’ve made it further than we have previously and doing well. We’re going into our 9th week now and boy, am I feeling it. Poor Carl, he’s having to do pretty much everything around here at the moment. But he does it with a smile because he loves us so much. I am a lucky girl.

We had an early scan last week to ease our nerves and saw our baby for the first time. It was amazing (understatement of the century)! To see this little bean in your body with a heart about as big as itself beating away… nothing could stop the tears of joy. It was such a blessing to see this little thing that has been making me feel so green and tired!

Don’t get me wrong, we are so very thankful for being pregnant again, but this time around is so different and I must comment. From week 4 I was exhausted. From week 5, nausea–joy. I must be a slow learner, but after a month I’ve begun to figure out my ‘morning sickness’ really rears it’s head in the afternoon/evening. Each day I thank the Lord for this gift (the baby), and I also pray for a easing of the queasiness that has seemed to take over my life. Some days are better than others, so we just look to the Lord for comfort.

If you know me, you know I love food… taste, texture, everything! Thanks to little Bean, I’m pretty much off all foods. Thankfully, it’s allowing me fruit and some yogurt and cereals… but that’s about it.  I’m sure this queasy feeling will pass… and boy, will I welcome that day with open arms, a hop, skip, and a jump, not to mention a big platter of all the foods I’ve missed.

These coming months will be filled with new experiences and adventure, and we look forward to sharing it with y’all. So world, get ready… 3rd try may be the charm. Come December we’ll welcome Baby Sweatman into the world! If you want to see how “Bean” is growing, check out our cool little ticker.

Happy Easter

HE is risen!

HE is risen indeed!

Time

Time… it can work for you or against you.

Ever have those days when time just doesn’t move fast enough for you?  I’m sort of in  one for those situations right now.  In just 6 weeks my parents will be here for their (nearly) bi-annual visit and I’ll have two weeks off from work; during which we’re off on our surprise adventure!  Funny how just when something gets planned, specifically a holiday and you’re in count down mode, everything in life seems to just poke along at dull speed.

For months, my work weeks have just flown by.  Monday came and went, and before I knew it I was again on a lovely, relaxing Saturday.  But now… I’m stuck in what feels like a forever Tuesday.   I know time doesn’t really speed up or slow down… but man, I feel like a child on Christmas Eve thinking ‘morning will never come!’.  But, I’m an adult and I know my holiday will get here when it gets here.

Until then, I shall keep my head down, nose to the grindstone and dream of our time away.  Thank goodness I love my job!

A Bazaar Experience

So today we got out of town and spent the morning in one of  our most favourite villages, Stow-on-the-Wold.  It was a particularly beautiful day, sun shining, 18*C,  slightest breeze, gorgeous.  Couldn’t have asked for better weather.  We had some lovely food, walked about and peeked in charity shops–looking (always) for that unique item that should come home with us, and dreamed in antique shops.

It  seemed a promising day when first we popped into one of the best antique shops, funnily enough owned by two Americans, where I spied a chest of drawers; from 1800′s made of bleached elm, nearly what I’ve been thinking of for when we have the money(!).  It was gorgeous.  Two small drawers on top followed by 3 main drawers below.  Natural looking, not pretentious and glossy, but charming with it’s various limited carvings and key holes in place of knobs.   Going price: £1,285.  Bargain?  Well, as the owner saw us checking it out (again, dreaming) he came over and we started chatting.  He remembered us from our previous visits and said he could sell it for £1,100… yeah, what a deal.  We did not buy it.  Don’t get me wrong… we wouldn’t have bought it as we’re not even close to being in that market.  But, it was nice to feel ‘included’ in that clientele.

On to the next, we popped into a persian rug shop… this is where it becomes bizarre/bazaar.  We only went in to look… again, we’re dreaming and getting ideas for the future.  The shop owner seemed nice, but soon it was blatantly clear he was a typical persian bazaar salesman trapped in an Irish horse-race-betting facade.  He started showing us rug after rug… until Carl found one he really liked and then I found one I really liked.  One of the rugs was £7000… yeah, that’s nearly my yearly income!  (sad, but true story), who knows what the other one was worth.  So, the next thing I knew the guy was asking us to make an offer, he’d  do £1500 for both.  Okay, not gonna buy any rugs today!  After what seemed like hours of thinking, ‘wow, we’d really like to have these rugs’… and also ‘how can we get out of here, we’re really not able to buy anything this pricey’… we were finally able to leave.  Our ‘out’ was that Carl and I needed to give it a think and decide what we’d like to do; fully knowing we’d not come back to the shop and we’d not buy a rug, or two.

At lunch, we saw the rug shop owner walk past.  Oh dear… just the direction we needed to go to get back to our car.  Carl said we should go the opposite way and around to get back to the car park, but I chose to follow hobbit logic: ‘the closer you are to danger the further you are away from harm.’. So, I said we should follow the rug guy’s direction  as we’re not likely to run into him if he’s ahead of us.  Yeah, my plan didn’t work.  As we were leaving the cafe who do we run into?  Yes, the rug guy.  All we could do was say our peace and be on our way.  After saying ‘thank you, but no thank you, we were not prepared to purchase anything today’ he offered both rugs for £1000… as he choked on the words.  Again, we said thank you, but we could not buy them today and then we were off.

As we drove home, Carl and I discussed the events of the day; if we had the money we would be the owners of two persian rugs based on the last offer.  But, thankfully we have more sense than money… and we’re doing alright.

Saturdays

What are Saturday’s for?

Many times I use them for cleaning up a week’s worth of living in the house.  Or organising that ‘catch all’ closet that just never seems to get the attention it needs.  Most Saturday’s are for not setting the alarm and easing into my day–I really like that one.  And there have been a few that I sleep all the way through.

Last Saturday was spent entertaining a cat whilst Carl was at a conference in Bristol.  Then on Sunday we cleaned and revamped our bedroom by moving furniture around (my favourite past time).  So, as I promised my wonderful husband (who hates moving and re-arranging), this weekend would be completely about relaxing and watching what he wants (i.e Top Gear…. oh, the joy).

Well, I am a bit cheeky… as promised, we are relaxing.  I did not set the alarm, we’re chilling on the couch with our morning (constant-through-the-day) coffee… but, we’re watching a Golden Girls marathon!  Yes sir!  You heard it… Golden Girls.  I absolutely love that show.  Thank you Nana Paulsen for the introduction way back in the day when I was too young to understand it and watch it, and thank you Bugs (brother, 5 yrs younger) for the endless afternoons in the 90′s of macaroni and cheese and hour after hour of watching it on Lifetime TV.

I have to say, Carl is quite content with this Saturday so far.  He’s such a good man, sitting here on the couch next to me as Golden Girls continues on TV… he’s quietly checking out 1967 Shelby Cobra and 1955 MG-TF (Funny Farm, anyone?) kit cars online.  Such a dreamer… but isn’t dreaming where great things usually start?

So, lazy, lazy, lazy… that’s how I like my Saturdays.  It’s a day of not having to do a thing you don’t want to.  A day where anything is possible and work can’t get in the way.  I may even break my initial decision and venture out into town and poke around the shops… you never know, it might be nice!

Rubbish Collection… yup.

How annoyed am I?  Well, you tell me.

Today is rubbish collection day.  For most people, this event happens weekly.  You make trash, you put it in your bin, you walk your bin to the curb on collection day (if it’s been a particularly  busy week you may have one or two extra bags along side your bin, fine), and viola… you come home from work and people paid to take away your trash have done their day’s hard work.  Now, here in Cheltenham the powers that be decided last spring to change rubbish collection from weekly to fortnightly collection.  Yeah, ding-ding-ding(!) you live in a ‘university’ town people are gonna make a lot of rubbish.  Reconfiguring the collection schedule is not a wise idea.  We’re simply two people and cat… imagine what a house-share of 5 adult students, or a family with 5-7 kids will produce weekly.  Now, collection day only rolls around every two weeks. That’s every 14 days. Twice a month.  Yeah, 26 out of 52 possible opportunities for stinky, funky, sickness-spreading, vermin-attracting garbage to be removed.  Ridiculous.

Well, we did not think it could get worse… how wrong we were.  Today we had a notice on our bin, an official sticker mind you, from the Cheltenham Borough Council saying “YOU HAVE PRESENTED TOO MUCH WASTE FOR COLLECTION.  EXCESS WASTE WILL NO LONGER BE COLLECTED”.  For crying out loud people… we had one extra bag that would not fit in our bin!  Who are they to say how much waste I’m allowed to produce?!?  Next, will they be at the Tesco checkout monitoring how much cosumables I’m purchasing?  Is ‘big brother’ going to watch my kitchen habits to see just what I should/should not be throwing away?!  Seriously?  And have they really, honestly thought through the ‘excess waste will not be collected’?  I’ve got news for them… they didn’t pick it up today… in two weeks time it’ll still be there and they’ll have to take it then.

You think the Council would’ve learned a little something from history.  I mean, come on, the plague… remember that?  Is that where we’re headed again?  Cheltenham is notably one of the posh spa towns of England.  Does the Council really want to purposefully leave rubbish rotting in front of houses?  It may not be warm yet, but give it a couple months… the sun is not going to help mask the stench.  Silly thing is, taxes never were decreased, yet the rubbish collection detail is working less… hmmm…. problem.  We pay our taxes for a reason.  Why is it such a challenge for the Council to make sure a simple job is done right?   I don’t pay them so I can take the rubbish to the tip… forget that!

Annoyed.