Yep, it’s getting pathetic over here

You’d think I’d be getting tired of the belly kicks by now. But I am NOT. They are still so amazing, I love them.

This weekend A. and I painted the kid’s future room: a pale green called Sea Breeze or Coastal Keg Party or something evocative of beachy, sandy fun times. It looks pretty good, although my cutting-in skills are sorely out of practice. Sadly I had nearly as much gross-out fun just washing the walls with TSP–a more disgusting bucket of used water was ne’er before seen. Then I made one-hour rolls and watched The Skull (as recommended by Mark Gatiss) out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t bad. And for a brief time, you might be able to watch it too, here:

The Skull Starring Peter Cushing with a Small Yet Pivotal and Ominous Role by Christopher Lee

Some non-baby related tension did happen over the weekend. While making dinner, A. and I were treated to five whitetail deer in the backyard. They ate some birdseed and added more poop, and made some beautiful bounding leaps over the neighbor’s fence. About half an hour later, thinking they were long gone, I took my paint buckets and rollers outside to wash with the hose, and brought Clio with. “No leash,” I said, “Because I trust you!”* I was spraying away at the bucket when something moved in the neighbor’s yard. One deer was still there, munching on berries or leaves or something, and it saw us, and it ran. And Clio was off after it.

It was dark. Clio has dark fur. People sometimes drive like idiots in our neighborhood. So I ran screaming after her. Probably scared the crap out of the neighbors, if they could’ve seen a pregnant lady in paint-spattered clothing with paint-spattered hair and rain boots running through their yards. I ended up a couple blocks away and yelled into the darkness and tried not to burst into tears, because though Clio has many strong points, recognizing
A) her name
B) my voice
and that
C) a combination of A & B means she should come

are not among them. But lo! Just as visions of vet calls and trips to Kinkos for LOST DOG posters began to percolate in my head, I heard a jingling. “Clio?” And she ran out of a yard across the street, straight toward me, like she actually recognized her name, my voice, and that she should follow both. (Although she might’ve been hungry.) We arrived back home at an empty house–A. had run out the front door after he heard me take off like a maniac, but he came back after he heard my calling stop.

So we should probably invest in a fence sometime soon. Yes, homeownership greets each new life problem with a corresponding expense disguised as a solution. Curse you, fake adulthood!

*Actually as you will see, this should read, “Because I’m a silly ass who does not understand dogs! At all!”

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