I did something.

Something I thought I could not do.

All by myself.

And it feels good.

I have moved my blog!

For a while I have been feeling the urge to get away from Blogger and learn more about how to really customize my site. But I just felt so clueless. Really, I am an html dummy, through and through.

I had looked into some hosting companies to see what prices would be like to start my own blog, one that was powered by Movable Type (the stuff the cool kids use). The cost seemed reasonable.

Yesterday, just for fun, I wanted to see what domain names would be available, should I decide to move.

I tested out www.kickyboots.com

And it was available.

I took that as a sign.

So, I paid my money, got a few emails from the host and set to attempting the creation of my new page.

I wanted to wait until it looked all polished and jaunty and unique and smashing.

That has not happened yet.

It's still pretty bare bones and cookie cutterish.

I'm hoping to make it better each day. So far, I've added links and manipulated my sidebar a little. It may not sounds like much, but it's a big deal for an internet fool like myself.

I hope you enjoy the new site! Update your links and I hope you enjoy my debut at www.kickyboots.com

I am feeling much better today. Still stuffy and needing to snort and hork every few minutes, but at least my brain isn't clouded with mucous any more. I can actually focus on the tasks at hand and think about what to make for dinner tonight. Last night as I laid sprawled on the couch, all I could think of was how a slurpee would make me feel better. The cool, icey goodness would soothe my throat and the sugar rush would give me a dose of energy. So I begged Steve to drive to 7-11 and get me one. After some prodding, some puppy dog eyes, and a slight guilt trip ("I'm sick. And pregnant!") he hopped in the truck and got one for me.

I've got to milk the pregnany card for all it's worth. Only 9 more weeks of being doted on and blaming my chub on the baby. Soon everyone will be oohing and ahhing over the cutest baby the world has ever known, and I will be forgotten.

The novelty of being pregnant has worn off for me. I am still awed by the alien movements in my abdomen and how miraculous it all is, but the initial thrill of "Look at me! I have a bump! It's cute! Touch the bump! Unless you're creepy! Look, I'm blooming! I'm round and adorable!" has diminished slightly.

I now look in the mirror and stare at my swollen tummy, thinking, "Yep. That thing is huge."

I am just feeling more and more ready to actually meet our baby girl and wrap her up in her new, soft quilt and change her pooey diapers and put her in a white onesie and take her to the beach and go for walks with her in the stroller while she looks at the clouds for the very first time.

There is the sound of heavy breathing.
And it's coming from me.
Because my nose is so clogged all I can do is pant from my mouth. I caught Steve's cold and it's been hanging on for dear life. I started getting a sore throat on Saturday and now I'm on day four of sinus congestion, bleary eyes, a cloudy head, and a short fuse. It's one time that I don't enjoy working with people, because everyone who comes into the office or calls me on the phone exclaims, "Oh, do you have a cold?"
Yes. Yes, I do.
I appreciate their concern, but when you hear it dozens of times a day all it does is remind you that yes, you feel crappy, and yes, you're still at work even though you'd rather be sleeping the snot away.
I only worked until noon today then swung by the video store and made a pit stop at Shoppers Drug mart for some Vick's VapoRub to smear on my raw nostrils. Upon coming home I heated up some leftovers, dragged my body pillow out to the couch, lubed up my nose with the sweet burn of eucalyptus, and didn't move for the duration of the afternoon. It was nice to relax, but now I just feel kind of yucky, like I should fold some laundry or go for a walk, but I don't want those things enough to actually do them.

"Good morning, Summerland Baptist Church."

"Hello there. I just threw up and need someone to bring me some ginger ale. Canada Dry."

Will do.

I field some of the strangest calls here. Fun times.

This weekend Kristin and Martin came from Calgary for a visit. Though the journey was long and their stay short, it was a wonderful treat to see them. This was my second time meeting Martin; the first was back in November at a time when he and Kristin were "just friends". They have since started dating and it was so great to see how gently he touches her back, how they're always cuddling and whispering to each other, and how happy he makes her. She deserves it.
It struck me how much things have changed since the onset of our friendship. We used to be ratty-haired little kids munching on popcorn while watching Full House and now we are grown women with lives taking shape. Kristin will be graduating from university next year and I'll be bouncing a baby on my lap in no time.
WHAT THE HECK?
On Saturday we had Jen and Jordan over for a BBQ with Kristin and Martin and it was so nice to sit on the deck, enjoy good food, watch Abby be a ham, and see the sun go down on the orchard.
I did nothing to deserve this: a wonderful husband, friends who love me unconditionally, a view of the lake, a baby kicking me in the ribs as I type this.
But I'll take it.
All of it.
And be very, very thankful.

The stretch marks? They're here.

Just the beginning hints of them, but there's no denying their arrival.

I was hoping to simply reuse the stretch marks I had acquired during puberty, but my body seems to feel the need to add to my collection.

The scary thing is that I've still got 9.5 weeks to go and my belly is going to get a LOT bigger yet.

Hello, one-piece bathing suits.

Good-bye, low rise jeans.

I think I'm going to dye my hair a shade of mousy brown, get a stylin' mom hair do and buy some tapered, high-waisted jeans.

We donned our swimming costumes and stepped onto the pool deck to see our aquasize instructor limping around with a mop in hand. "What happened to you?" we asked.

"I have a groin injury, " he grimaced. "My supervisor will be leading the class tonight."

Our shoulders uniformly slumped as we realized how much we would miss our good natured, rolly-polly teacher.

Then we saw her.

She came bounding out of the staff room wearing a shiney one-piece speedo bathing suit and athletic aqua socks.

She was ripped.

She was fit.

And she was PERKY.

She introduced herself but I don't even remember her name, since I was blinded by the gleaming smile she had plastered on her face. The class began and she led from the side of the pool, fiercely hopping around, kicking, squatting, punching. We tried to follow her, but she was going so fast! Five minutes into the class we were already out of breath and Jen whispered, with fear in her eyes, "Is this just the warm up?"

Next we moved onto the deep water portion of the work out. Normally we wear floaty belts or take our buoyant dumbells to keep our heads above water.

But not this week.

We were instructed to grab a pool noodle, string it between our crotch and clench it in place.

Neat.

So there we were, the tips of our noodles poking out in front and behind us. (Jen's was the longest noodle and she was quite proud. I had a case of noodle envy as I got stuck with the stumpiest one there. Oh, the shame.)

The novelty of the noodles wore off quickly and we all grew tired of our teacher's squinty-eyed, smile-till-it-hurts approach, so eventually we just kind of floated listlessly and moved around just enough to make it look like we were trying to keep up.

Somehow we survived the hour. The bad news came as we were exiting the pool. "So, I'll be leading next week's class too, until Shawn heals! See you then!"

Mercy.

As the apple trees begin to bud and the valley cloud lifts to reveal the sunshine and the lake warms and the ice cream shops reopen and the days lenthen and the breeze softens, I am reminded of what an amazing place Summerland truly is.

There is something magical about this little town and it is a place I will never take for granted.

Today it's my dad's birthday.

I won't disclose his age, out of respect for the elderly.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAPPY!!

Today my baby brother turns 21!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Steve!!

I am so glad that we are friends now and that you don't throw dinner plates at me anymore. And I'm sure you're relieved that I no longer force you to chew sidewalk chalk then spit it out so I can use the saliva-slicked paste as paint.

Good times.

I love you and am proud of you.

A few months ago we borrowed season one of LOST on DVD from Angella. We were hooked. We would watch four episodes in one sitting, fighting the need to sleep. When we ran out of discs we lamented the fact that we'd have to wait until the summer to catch season two on DVD. Then something great happened...our friends broke the law and pirated the first 12 episodes of season two off of the internet. And then they put them onto our computer for us.

Really, what choice did we have but to watch them?

So, watch them we did.

We just finished the twelfth episode last night and we're now wondering where we're going to get our next fix.

It's funny how I willingly enjoy the fruits of theft.

It reminds me of being in grade school when this guy I knew named Efren would fill his duffel bag with stolen chocolate bars from the Esso. Then he would distribute his loot to all of his friends. Did I stand up to him and say, "I refuse to partake of these stolen goods!"

No.

I took my Snickers bar and ran.

Terrible, I know. Somehow stealing seems so much worse than merely reaping the benefits of someone else stealing.

It's a quiet blogging day today. I have been having some mixed feelings about my lack of anonymity on this site. I have been realizing the risks that come with vulnerability (emotional risks as well as physical). I long for a world where the ability to connect with people results only in good things. And so far for me, blogging has brought nothing but joy. However, I am aware that all it takes is one person to abuse the connection and none of the joy would be worth the pain.

I'm just thinking.

It's good to weigh out the options and decide what is best for me and my family.

In other news, I am safe and sound and happy to be home again. My time away was delightful but the comforts of home are wonderful too. It's good to be back at work, back strolling down main street, back in my own bed with Steve and Rolo.

That is all for now.