My heart actually, physically feels fuller when I talk to my brothers. I just Skyped with Gregory, Elissa and Kamryn and my night is now made.

What a long night it’s been. I think I spent three hours writing and editing an article for work. I felt a lot of pressure on this one and was basically scared to take a step forward. It’s due tomorrow by end of business and I’d say it’s 90% finished. I just have to go back and read it with a fresh set of eyes.

I’ve felt really rushed these past few days and, truth be told, I ought to be doing anything but writing in here. But it’s cathartic, so it’s how I’m choosing to waste my time.

I should actually be packing for a trip that I’m very anxious about. We’re going to see my parents, which means an eight-hour car ride. I hate car rides. And we’re bringing the dog whose longest ride in the car was just over five hours. He hated it. And when we get there, we’re going to have to board Murphy because we forgot about my parents’ cat. Murphy wants to eat cats. And then I’m going to have to deal with nasty glances and rude comments from my mother about my obesity and greasy hair. And I’m going to hear how lucky I am to have Allan and that I need to do something about my appearance to keep him.

But the bright spots are that I get to see my father who never says anything about my appearance and tells me how lucky Allan is to have me. And I’m going to go to New York City with Allan – his very first trip into that crazy city.

But, yeah, I’m not nearly packed enough to go. And I’m not in the right mental state to go, but go we will.

You know that U2 song, Sweetest Thing? I remember listening to it a long time ago, hearing the line, ‘blue eyed boy meets a brown eyed girl’ and wondering if that could be my future. I am a brown-eyed girl, after all.

And sure enough, I met my very own blue-eyed boy. A boy with such beautiful, bright blue eyes that if we have children, I hope they all get that particular gene, the gene that creates eyes the same color as the Caribbean Ocean.

Speaking of children, I wouldn’t normally write about this out of respect for my husband’s privacy, but he told people about it, so why not?

Last week we had a pregnancy scare. Is that still what you call it when you’re married – a scare? Well, regardless of verbiage, I thought I might be pregnant. But I’m not. If I had been, it would have been a shock, there would have been a lot of stressful nights spent wondering what in the world we were going to do, but we would have been happy. Ultimately, we would have been very, very happy.

And the happiness is the surprising part. What a difference a ring makes, right? I’m not a hussy and I didn’t spend my 20’s sleeping with random men, but I’d been through this once before and it was awful. Terrifying. Tear-inducing. The thought of being pregnant in my mid-20’s when I was unmarried and unstable was a nightmare. But the idea of being pregnant in my early-30’s when I’m very happily married to a stable man is appealing. It’s something I’m looking forward to.

This doesn’t mean that we’re going to fast-track the baby making, because we’re not. There’s still a lot we want to do as TINKS (two incomes, no kids) before we start a family. We want to move into a bigger house, we want to go on a few more trips, we want to spend more time together just the two of us, and I want Lasik eye surgery. But I can now say with certainty that I’m excited about having a baby.


Today I saw Jason’s bright red goatee, the one that makes him look like a Viking rather than the giant Croat that he is. And I saw Laurie’s swelling belly, which has grown by leaps and bounds since early May. I saw my father, whose hair was disheveled from a day spent on his boat. I got a tour of Gregory’s new house in Vegas, and I saw that Kamryn still fits in one of her mama’s hands. And I saw my mother cuddling with Gregory’s dogs on his living room couch.

Thanks to a $25 webcam from Target, I was able to peek into the lives of the people I love the most. Sometimes technology with all of its glitches and expense is a whopping pain in the ass, but today it was magic. It allowed me to spend time with my family who I miss more than I could ever adequately express.

You might think that being away from them for nine years would ease the pain of separation, but it doesn’t. Sometimes I think it only gets worse. Especially when new members come into the fold and I don’t have a chance to know them as well as I would like.

Other than Skyping with loved ones, this weekend has been relatively uneventful. We did a whole lot of nothing. Since the next couple of weekends are jam-packed, I’m glad we were able to bum around and relax. After fighting this head cold for almost two weeks (!!), I think my body really needed the rest. I even took a nap yesterday! I trudged up the stairs, crawled under the comforter and passed out for over an hour.

Earlier today, Allan and I met my friend Andy and his new wife for lunch. My friend is a former coworker and he moved to Germany three years ago. He was only here for the weekend, so I’m super glad we were able to squeeze in some time together. Get this: he met his American wife on Twitter and in three weeks she’s moving to Germany with him. She left her job, doesn’t speak German and has only physically spent about five weeks with Andy. It’s pretty incredible what love can make you do, right? It can give you the strength to leave all that you know and leap into a world of uncertainty in order to be with a person who makes your heart skip a beat. She’s a brave girl, that one.

I’ve been sick for about a week now. What I was convinced was allergies was actually a rogue summer cold. And not to gross you out, but I’ve been blowing my nose with consistency for SO MANY DAYS that I’m convinced I have a snot reserve in my ass. Where else could it be coming from?

Allan also has the cold, which, I hate to say, he got from me. It was bound to happen, but I still feel guilty every time I see him sneeze or hear his eight-octaves-deeper voice wish me a good morning.

But I definitely think I’m on the mend. One big indicator is my water intake; when I first started coming down with The Crud, I’d only have a few swallows from my water bottle. But sitting here at lunchtime, I’m already working on my second bottle. I can’t get enough of the stuff.

Perfect timing for the improvement in my health: I have two jobs today. I haven’t had two jobs since the first week of April, and you’d think that I’d be rejuvenated and ready to go! But I’m not. I’m not at all. I usually look forward to concerts – and this has the potential to be a really cool concert – but I’m not feeling it. I’m not feeling the arena anymore. I’m feeling my husband and my dog and a life as an ordinary person who only gets up and goes to one job.


Ready for more blah?

So, I have this beautiful niece, a tiny, seven pound creature who is related to me, and she’s 2,000 miles away. Which means that I’ll see her next to never. And it’s really eating at me. I assumed I’d feel this – a longing to be near her and my brother and sister-in-law – upon her birth, and here it is. Here’s the longing and the sadness and the jealousy of all the people who have already touched her soft skin and smelled her newborn scent.

The earliest I’ll see her is November if she and her Las Vegas crew make the journey to Pennsylvania. If not, I’ll see her in January when Allan and I plan to visit Vegas. So I’ll never see the newborn Kamryn. And I’ll probably never be there for one of her birthday parties or for a dance recital or for a prom. All of which makes me sad beyond words. I really want to know her, but it’s hard to know someone from a world away.