I am graceless.

Basically I'm trying to figure out why I ever thought having kids was a good idea.
And if I really wanted them so badly, maybe we should have just adopted them.

I am rarely sick and I hate being that sick person, whiny and dependent. I show up. I power through. I do things I don't feel like doing and get them done and don't complain.

(The DDH may view me slightly differently...perhaps I should amend it to say I don't complain, except to him.)

But this. I'm exhausted. I'm sick. My allergies are worse than ever (turns out Claritin is nowhere near as effective as Allegra. Obviously it's the ingredient that actually works that's harmful to the baby). I drag myself out of bed twenty minutes before I have to leave for work. I sit at work staring at the computer, willing myself not to throw up--or fall asleep. I drag myself home again. I can't stand up for more than five minutes without feeling like I'm going to pass out. Eating makes me sick. Not eating makes me sick.

I'm in a bad mood all. the. time. Every time things get tense with my boss I just want to walk out and quit. Even though he's actually been relatively sane lately and making me feel indispensable. Which makes me feel worse and more conflicted about the fact that I do still intend to quit.

I haven't told anyone (other than immediate family) because I'm scared--scared of how my boss will react, scared that I'll miscarry, scared of being the center of attention when I usually do my damnedest to disappear into the wallpaper--so for all anyone knows I'm just being lame lately for no reason.

I skipped C-Fit yesterday not because I didn't want to work out--though truly I was exhausted and sick-feeling and not sure it would have been a good idea to jump around in a class where, again, I just look weird for not doing everything full out the way I used to--but because I got depressed and convinced myself no one else in the class likes me and they would all be happier if I didn't come.

I just don't want to do this. I'm scared of labor. I'm scared of newborns. I know what I'm like when I'm sleep-deprived, and it's not pleasant for anyone involved.

The DDH is pretty much the best darling devoted husband ever in the history of husbands. Although he admits that he's sad not to have homecooked meals all the time anymore, he doesn't complain about it. He does the dishes and empties the dishwasher and on Saturday he even vacuumed. He hugs me when I cry for no reason and tells me that it's okay for me to complain.

So of course all that just makes me feel worse. I should be better and more deserving of him. I should at least cook him dinner occasionally.

And why should I be whining? So I don't feel great. Tough. Lots of people feel worse. I could be (and, I suppose, at some point will be) feeling just as bad but have a toddler running around I have to care for. I should just toughen up and do things anyway--

But then my head spins and my heart beats too fast and I sit back down before I faint or throw up and nothing gets done and I am the most useless, pathetic weakling ever.

I can find grace and empathy and understand and reassurance for everyone.

Except myself.

I am not actually accomplishing anything.

So I actually cooked dinner the other evening, and it actually tastes pretty good, and I actually remembered to take pictures so I could finally actually update Reality Chef...

...But then I got halfway through a bowl of the leftover soup for lunch today, seriously thought I was going to hurl it back up, and still feel on the verge of being sick. No way can I look at the pictures of the stuff or type up its recipe.

Also I think it would be a little off-putting to put in the description that this food almost made me throw up. But it's good! I promise you'll like it! Really guys, I promise!

Up until now I've only felt vaguely queasy and just had no appetite, but I guess I don't get to entirely skip the morning-sickness thing after all. :-/

This is my life right now: lots of thinking and planning but no actually doing anything. Lots of sitting around at work trying to look busy when I feel like curling up and passing out--either in bed or in front of a toilet seat.

Nausea and fatigue, 6; Katie, 0.

I am cooking up a storm: Shrimp and Veggie Rice.

Speaking of having a cold and also too much to do:

Lest you think that all my culinary adventures are Martha-esque (or Alice Waters-esque or smitten kitchen-esque or really anything other than someone who likes food trying to make dinner for herself and her Darling Devoted Husband), I present--shrimp and veggie rice.

I am dressed (don't ask much more of me)!

Mostly this week has been very boring, clothes-wise, but here's what I wore Sunday, a tank-top dress over a long-sleeved shirt, with tights and boots:

Bonus dog-butt in the picture.

I liked it. I love this dress in the summer--it's knit and comfortable and cool. It was nice to wear it over a shirt and not to have to worry about it gaping and showing off the girls too much.

That's my perennial problem with tops: If they're long enough and fit through the middle, they are made for much more...well-endowed women than I. Other women have problems with their busts popping out of too-small tops. I have a problem where the tops just gape open because there's not enough to fill them.

Sigh.

Anyway. I love this look on other people, but I'm not sure it does me a lot of favors. I would ask your opinion if I could actually be bothered to take better photos, but so far the phone camera and the dusty mirror are it (I lack a tripod and also the motivation to ever upload pictures from my normal camera).

I could, I suppose, at least dust the mirror.

Anyway. On Anne at The Modern Mrs. Darcy's recommendation, I recently bought Tiny Twig's e-book The No-Brainer Wardrobe. I've been scanning through it and I'm excited to actually whip my wardrobe into shape and put together some nice outfits and and and.

BUT.

I think I'm trying to do too much. I've been cooking like a fifties housewife, doggedly cleaning and organizing the house every day, working out four to five times a week, reading two books a week, at some point still going to work and choir practices and meetings, and it seems like I never get around to the gardening tasks I need to be doing if I'm going to justify the fact that I spent eighty dollars on seeds and another seventy-five on supplies, not to mention an hour expanding the darn thing, and the prospect of fencing in the new bit looms large.

I am trying to clean and organize my trainwreck of a house, have a magnificent vegetable garden, cook every meal from scratch, and figure out a polished and shiny-fun wardrobe?

It's just not going to happen.

Not all at once, anyway.

And I've actually been pretty good about chopping things down into little pieces and just doing a tiny bit every day (yesterday I cleaned my microwave! And the day before that, the range hood!), but I've added too much to the to-do list and a) it's getting overwhelming and b) one of my Major Important Goals for the year (the garden) is getting neglected.

All that to say, I'll keep trying to hit my goal of one nifty outfit a week, and I'll keep trying to cook at least three meals a week, and I'll keep trying to work fifteen minutes on the house every day...but hopefully you'll be seeing some gardening progress posts soon, and those tasks need to come before the fun fashion stuff.

Ugh. Being a grownup is hard.

Also I have a miserable chest cold and my lungs feel like they're on fire and I would be tempted to see a doctor about that if I had $25 and a boss who would let me off work. Oh well. Hot tea FTW.

I am dressed (don't ask much more of me)!

For something different, here's a pants outfit that I actually rather liked.  

I think I mentioned that I have two pairs of black slacks and two pairs of gray. Here's one of the gray (not that you can really tell), with a blue blouse and a navy cardigan (both of which I got with mad sale/couponing skillZ at Old Navy) and my nifty long necklace.

You can't tell in the first picture but the blouse is actually a pattern. It's also an actual blouse and not just a t-shirt. I liked it enough to buy two, this blue-on-blue one and a black-and-white one.

Black and white version. Ignore the fact that this
is the most unflattering picture ever.

I didn't get any pictures of my skirt outfits ONCE AGAIN. Nor did I take a picture of the dress I wore yesterday. SIGH. Photodocumenting fail. Still, I am managing to keep that little mini-resolution, which is nice.

I like the cardigan/blouse outfit. It felt put-together and like an actual outfit instead of just clothing. Yay. The big necklace is fun, too, though it gets in the way sometimes.

Anyway, as you can see from the background of the first picture, this is from last Wednesday, when Babydog Beagle was sick (the giant crate in the background). I missed out on a lot of sleep Tuesday night and was bleary-eyed and running late Wednesday morning.

This could have been--and would have been, in the past--a terrible clothing day. BUT as part of my new organizational routine, I decide what clothing I'm going to wear the night before, which meant I already had the outfit, including jewelry, all picked out and ready to go. I know it's trite, but that has made such a big difference. It really helped me keep a positive outlook all that worrisome day.

In Other News:

My church workout classes officially begin today. This is good, because Zumba last night about killed me, and before my Christmas relaxation break I had been getting pretty peppy about that Zumba. I'm excited for that, though not for the pain I will probably be feeling tomorrow.

Choir practice also begins and kids, I just cannot shake this stupid voice issue. I guess it was adrenaline that got me through the Messiah, because it came right back and I croaked most embarrassingly through our Christmas program. I fear that I might need to look into food allergies or something, but since I suspect this will mean giving up cheese and ice cream I am incredibly hesitant. I don't know what else could be causing this sort of long-term slime in my throat, though.

Babydog Beagle seems all better and is greatly enjoying being fed giant amounts of food to fatten her up. Her crate is still upstairs and Labbydor has been enjoying having the door to that room open so he can sleep on the human bed all day. Yes, I know, I'm a terribly interesting person with all my dog stories, aren't I? ;-)

I am getting tired of cleaning up messes.

I was going to post yesterday about how it looks like Babydog Beagle is all better, yay.

But then she was sick again last night. Not as badly as Tuesday, but still. Came home after dinner to a mess and she woke us up in the middle of the night with another. Poor thing.

I'm also feeding her as much as I'm feeding the Labrador to try to fatten her up. I'll probably put her back on a boiled-chicken-and-oatmeal diet this weekend. Sigh.

In other news, I finally mailed my Christmas packages and a first round of Christmas letters yesterday! Nothing like procrastination, amirite? I told everyone to consider them Epiphany presents.

Speaking of which, happy Epiphany! Christmas is now officially over. Time for the decorations to come down. But maybe I can manage to hang on to a bit of that Christmas spirit.

That's certainly what I need.

It's Wednesday, so theoretically I should have a What I Wore post up, but the only picture I've apparently taken and uploaded is a singularly unflattering one of me in a blouse and slacks--a blouse I like enough to own two of, mind you, but still. I hit my goal of a fun skirt outfit last week, but apparently failed to photodocument the event.

Instead, I will tell you about the beagle. Skip if you're squeamish. It will be safe again after the second picture.

The patient.

I came home yesterday to an awful stench and discovered the poor thing soaking in a crate full of diarrhea. I dragged the crate outside and released her into the yard, and luckily the DDH came and valiantly cleaned the crate and the beagle and then the carpet when she ran out of the bathroom after her bath and did it again, on the carpet.

Thank God for the DDH.

Anyway. We finally let the poor sad sick beagle back into the house. I tried to fence her in the kitchen so at least additional messes would be on the linoleum, but no. She climbed over the fence, cuddled up sweetly in the chair, then got up and promptly voided a greater volume of mess than I thought her entire digestive track could possibly hold.

Sigh. She seemed ok the rest of the evening...till she woke us up at 4:30 in the morning with a huge puddle of mostly bile on the floor by her bed. And then, after we got everything cleaned up and were starting to drift back to sleep, with a giant puddle of bile all over OUR bed.

So after cleaning it up and changing the sheets, we stuck poor beagle in a different crate for the rest of the night.

She was very upset when she didn't get breakfast this morning.

Brother and sister.

I'm worried, because she's also lost quite a bit of weight recently. We had cut back what we were feeding her because she was getting fat, but somehow in the past month she's become gaunt. We've been feeding her more the past couple weeks, but now this...I don't know. The poor thing. And I don't know what to do. A vet bill would eat up pretty much the entirety of our savings account...but if she is still sick tomorrow, that's what we'll do.

Labrador is adorable, very concerned that his little-big sister is sick. We put her crate upstairs because it's warmer but left the door open so he could check on her. We have learned the hard way (our back door no longer has a door jamb from Labrador height on down) not to separate them while we're gone.

So this is not the post I wanted to write today. It's not about What I Wore or about my new planner system or how I'm doing with my new goals for the year. It's just me worrying about my poor sick babydog and letting you know how absolutely awesome my DDH is.

That's life, I guess.

I am sick.

Look! The sun!

Blargh! My mood was lifted yesterday by:

1. A brief bout of sunshine.
2. Accomplishful shopping (bunny litter, present for brother, cocoa powder, dog treats, wine).
3. Lovely chat time with a good friend.
4. Oatmeal-parmesan crusted chicken tenders and homemade honey mustard sauce (plus frozen veggies; real homemade food FTW).
5. Bonus that the food was lovingly made from scratch by the DDH (I did the dishes).
6. Wine.
7. An episode of Grimm.
8. YouTube videos.

But I woke up this morning with a miserably sore throat, and now I'm hacking and coughing and blowing my nose and generally obviously Have A Cold.

And I'm all out of Throat Coat tea. Sadness.

And the church choir's Christmas performance is tonight. Double sadness.

Here's to a miraculous recovery during the workday. Sigh. I'm never sick, and here's two bad colds within a couple weeks of each other.

I thought I had taken pictures of at least one of the various outfits I wore this past week, but apparently not. Rest assured that I am continuing to meet my goal of wearing something fun at least once a week. Because I know you were very concerned about that.

So instead I'll leave you with a picture of last night's dinner. Noms.

I am tired.

I am tired. So very tired. I get seven to eight hours of sleep every night, yet somehow each morning I can barely drag myself out of bed, I wander through the day in a haze, I fall asleep on the couch after dinner. Ugh. I blame winter, a lack of sunshine, too many sweets, and a pervasive depressive malaise that no amount of Christmas lights seems to dispel.

I can't do much about the winter or the lack of sunshine. Obviously I need to eat better rather than just munching on Christmas noshes, but it's a vicious cycle, isn't it? How do I get the energy to cook something healthy when my brain's too foggy to plan properly and there's an exhaustion in my gut that feels like the rods holding me upright have snapped?

I don't know if that visual makes any sense but it's how I feel. Hollow in the gut; surprised to still be standing or sitting upright.

Just in general I haven't been able to marshal my thoughts long enough to plan anything out or get anything done. My to-do lists aren't getting done because I don't have any to-do lists. Weird.

I need to sit down and make lists and plans of attack and goals and generally get my life in order, but I just don't want to do anything and I don't have the energy to do anything except sit in front of my computer at work and cringe every time someone walks by in case they want me to do something or notice that I haven't really been doing anything. I just barely have enough energy to drive home without letting my car crash into the highway walls and stumble up to my bed or the couch and just lie there, staring at nothing.

I have made approximately three million (well, maybe more like ten) trips to Target (and other stores, but mostly Target) within the last five days because every. time. I go. I forget something I needed to get. I stand in the middle of the aisles for fifteen minutes chasing down my scattered thoughts, trying to make mental checklists I can check off, asking myself if there's anything else I need so I don't need to come back during the craziness that is the week before Christmas...every time I conclude there's nothing else, or I think of one or two things and I grab those...and every time two hours later I realize, oh, I need that and I didn't get it.

Sigh. And it's that vicious cycle thing, not having energy to get stuff done or eat well leads to having less energy because I've been eating junk or being demotivated because nothing's been done. I just see all the decisions that need to be made (to I go to the pet store or the post office today? do I get the brother a WalMart or Target gift card or something else? do I get this Christmas stationery or that one or just some cards?), all these countless little not-really-that-important decisions--and I just refuse to make them. I go and hide on the couch and stare at the tree with it's pretty lights and shiny ornaments and refuse to decide anything.

Things have been done. I've written some pompous little antiphon blog post things. I cleaned the kitchen table and counter and actually am keeping up with the dirty dishes etc. I cleaned off the coffee table last night. I cooked and ate some Swiss chard. I got the dogs' picture taken with Santa. I've gotten and wrapped gifts for parties and made snacks for parties and attended parties.

But I haven't mailed packages to my parents, siblings, and friends. I haven't written or mailed a Christmas letter or Christmas cards or Christmas anythings. I haven't cleaned out the bunny's cage because I haven't gone to the pet store to buy more litter. I haven't made presents for the office (granola, I was thinking granola). I haven't wrapped the DDH's gifts or our roommate's gifts or the in-laws' gifts or or or.

And the thing is I'm not stressed about it, because I don't have the energy to care. And you don't stress about things you don't care about.

I am playing catch-up.

Because missing two days of work and three days of house maintenance means mountains of to-do lists everywhere!

The house that Jon built.

We had a successful and enjoyable trip to Illinois to visit the DDH's extended family. Unfortunately, I spent Wednesday night/Thanksgiving sick as a dog, assuming dogs are sick with feverish colds and noses that won't. stop. running. So I did not at all enjoy the time with that portion of his family in the beautiful house his uncle built, which is a shame, but how many people noticed when there was a shiny new six-month-old to play with?

Not many, thankfully.

So I didn't really taste Thanksgiving dinner (which is a great way not to overindulge!), but I mean it looked good, so I'm sure it was (this also saves me from the inevitable comparisons of other people's food with my mother's. Bless her, she's ruined me).

Actually, plates of mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes,
and cranberry relish don't look at all appetizing.
Enjoy this photo of the pre-food table, instead.

Suffering from snot-induced insanity, I agreed to tag along for a midnight round of Black Friday shopping. And enjoyed it, of course. My arms were sore for the next three days from standing in line holding a giant box of Pyrex for two hours. But hey. PYREX. FOR CHEAP.

Yeah, that's my Healthy Thanksgiving tip list:

1. Be sick so you don't feel like eating any food.
2. Lift weights in the middle of the night.
3. Sleep for ten hours straight + lots of naps.
4. Still manage to gain five pounds.

Anyway, once I awoke Friday afternoon, mostly cured of my sickness, I quite enjoyed the rest of the day hanging out with his family (a smaller portion of it, as we had moved over to his cousin's house). The DDH spent all day helping his little second cousin build a GIANT Lego Ninja temple thing, which led his mom to drop lots of hints about what a wonderful father he'll be (that was actually sort of what the whole weekend was like with his mom, whom we drove to and from Illinois. "So when are you going to have kids? Don't you want a baby? Look at this cute little baby. Don't you want one? When do I get to be a grandma?" blah blah blah. I mean, I know that comes with the territory, but srsly).

Also I may have impulse-bought the dogs matching penguin Christmas sweaters.

The drives there and back were pretty unfun, though. I was stuck in the backseat and woozy with imminent carsickness. For ten hours. Each way. Blargh.

Aaaaaaand, bonus to never having taken the lights down last Christmas, we were able to just plug them in and turn them on Saturday night when we got home! So at least the outside is decorated. The inside looks like ten boxes of decorations threw up on the living room table...that will be this evening's project.

So excited about carols I can't even tell you.

Despite (or maybe because of?) being sick for fully half the trip or more, I am back feeling rested and finally excited for the Advent/Christmas season. I've been too stressed and drained recently to be feelin' it, as they say, but I think I've gotten a bit of an attitude readjustment and am looking forward to the fun stuff. Yay.

This might have something to do with it. :-D

I am fighting off a chest cold.

But I'm losing.

This came out of the blue. I was hit by a nice juicy cough last night while watching Castle and thought, uh-oh. And sure enough, I almost slept right through my alarm this morning, completely glued to the bed, with that weird heavy wet ball in the middle of my chest that means I'm sick.

Ugh, my lungs hurt. And I can feel that exhausted achiness creeping into my bones.

And you know when you can just taste the mucus hovering at the back of your mouth, overflowing from your bronchial tubes?

Yup.

Good times.

At least my nose isn't running (though now that I say that, it will be), and since the boss is out of town it's actually warmer than 55 degrees in my office, so that should help.

Gallons and gallons of immunity-boosting tea, a fuzzy scarf 'round my neck, and either soup or a nap for lunch.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.