I Need an Intervention!

Current "Challenges" (otherwise referred to as "Reasons for Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth"):

• Am deathly ill with some sort of cold/flu going on the 4th day, while also contending with unending pregnancy "morning" sickness that lasts every waking second (not that I'm bitter or dramatic).

 

 

• In a well-intentioned moment of lunacy, decided to contact Colfax and Mash Handmade about restocking jewelry and robots.  Set up appts. for next Tuesday . . . have made nothing for either.

• Decided to meet with website guy next Tuesday as well (nothing like a fully productive afternoon, right?).  Am wondering if I am fit for public interaction.  Do I have complete thoughts?

• Have realized today we're leaving for vacation a week from Sunday, and I still only have 4-5 wearable maternity shirts for a 9-day vacation in sweltering heat.  Have repeatedly shoved thoughts of preparation far into black abyss called my mind.  Maybe I was an ostrich in another pregnant life?

The Baby's First Portrait

Perhaps because I haven't been down to the workshop in a few weeks, my little assistant has turned to drawing.  This is his portrait of me and the baby.

Apparently, he thinks the baby lives in my chin. 

I am currently saying nothing to dissuade him from that belief.  I had boys so that my husband would be the one to explain the birds and the bees. 

I did actually go downstairs and look at my workshop today.  It's a wreck.  Maybe if a magical robot fairy cleaned it, my motivation would be found under the metal shavings . . .

Surprise!

So I’ve decided it’s time to just put it out there.  I’m pregnant.

While unexpected, I’ve basically become used to the idea.  I mean, what’s another, right? Three, four . . . who’s counting?

I am having some trepidation about the sex of the baby, though.  Everyone I know is insisting this one’s a girl, even my husband. 

I am completely, utterly, and absolutely unprepared to deal with a girl.  I mean, what if she doesn’t love my drill press?  What if she wants a . . .(dare, I even say it?) . . . doll?

Can robots and dolls co-exist?

Oh, To Escape from Drama!

Alas, I've been lax about blogging again.

I blame it on the never-ending drama in my life.  If it's not one thing, it's another, right?

I've been thinking about building a secret cabin behind our main tree line where I can hide out for a while.  Of course, this cabin needs to come with fully functioning plumbing (I've been to enough craft shows to abhor the very sight of a port-a-potty), ice cold air conditioning, and plenty of space for all my tools/robot parts.  With my propensity for naps, I suppose it should also include a soft, comfy bed. 

Maybe there'll even be a secret password to get inside.  And a magic refridgerator that is fully stocked with cooked bacon and orange juice.  And a working robot that I can send to the main house as a stand-in wife/mother to ease my guilt. 

This is a good plan.