Bleegh

I have gagged, loudly and fully, at least six times in the last 20 minutes. And I don’t like it. Not at all.

There’s nothing that makes you feel more attractive than suddenly throwing your head to the sky, feeling your guts heave, and making a horrible, guttural “Bleegh!” sound. (Unless it’s making that noise while sporting brown-red leprosy ears courtesy of the hair dye job of the day before.)

The whole state of affairs is particularly annoying because I’m thisclose to being 15 weeks pregnant and, my goodness!, the nausea is supposed to be gone by now! But, no. It lingers. Kind of like the stink from under the covers when someone decides to let loose with a Dutch oven.

{Yes. I’m talking to you.}

So you don’t think the evening is only full of things that make me hurl, I need you to know my husband is in the process of MacGyver-ing the t.v.

A few days ago it started to whistle. I can only imagine what the dogs were feeling because the whistle was so high-pitched I considered tearing my eyebrows out in frustration. But I controlled myself.

Lizard did a little research on the World Wide Web, the place of massive amounts of information, and found the squeal was a sign of bad power something-or-anothers and we should expect the t.v. to quit working before too long.

“Before too long” = 8 hours.

So we’ve been without a t.v. for a few days, waiting on the power something-or-another parts to arrive.

I’ve had to face my addiction to t.v. and the sweet silence an episode of Clifford the Big Red Dog or Go, Diego, Go! can bring to my household. Not to mention my withdrawal from the questionable reality television shows that make up our evening: Gold Rush, Biggest Loser, The Bachelor, etc.

(Oh, the shame of confessing these cinematic guilty pleasures.)

Back in the day, when I was a naïve mother who knew everything about child rearing, I believed t.v. would rot a child’s brain and it must be avoided at all costs.

Then came the day I turned it on and found The Backyardigans. I noted my child’s interest. A plan began to form.

A child, safely buckled in the high chair with a wad of meltable Puffs bought me 25 minutes of time. Time that could be used to shower. And the stench of me… well, cleanliness seemed worth it.

Fast forward to the 17 hour treks we made several times a year to visit family. With very few reservations we buckled our kids into car seats, popped in a movie — or two or three, or six — and we travelled the interstates in quiet abandon.

And now. Now I’m had to realize I am definitely using the t.v. to help me through the day. We use t.v. time as an incentive for completing household chores and homework. I use it as a way to get some quiet time.

I just like t.v. I don’t want to, but I do.

And my husband is in the process of enabling my addiction once more. I love him even more for his actions. His beautiful, blissful, loving action.

That requires a soldering gun and a power something-or-another.

Love it.

That’s all that’s on my mind tonight. Hope all is well for you. I’ve been loving the jokes in the comments, so go read the comments from the last few days and then submit your own joke!