Mother-Cold-To-End-All-Colds, Weekend Ski Widow, The G. D. and A General Absence of Perk

You’ll notice my last post is backdated a little over a week. That’s because by the time I got off of the plane I was literally on the verge of collapse from both exhaustion and what was soon to morph into ‘the mother-cold-to-end-all-colds’. It started Monday, 9 days ago with a sore throat so horrendous that I finally broke down and started popping Tylenol. This cold, this ‘mother-cold-to-end-all-colds’ and has since taken on every single manifestation that a cold can possibly manifest. It’s hopped around from my throat, to sinuses, to my nose, to my chest, back to my throat, to my nose, last night, I woke up and my eyes were crusted shut, I mean really… I haven’t had a voice for three days, I’ve spent at least 4 days (if not 5) on the couch. Oh yes, and it’s also hopped to my husband, bless his heart… Speaking of... allow me to digress for just a moment…

So – it would be super easy for me to say, “well, if you hadn’t spent all day Saturday playing in the snow maybe you wouldn’t have gotten sick,” but the truth is, that would sound catty and I would be nagging and – well – I’ve already said it. (I was in a mood). Truth is, for the most part, I’m totally fine with becoming a weekend window to Hunter’s new found obsession – Skiing. I’m super thrilled that he’s embraced the local past time and is spending so much time outdoors getting fresh air, hanging out with new people and developing a new skill. Notice I said skill – not hobby. The thing about Hunter is that he’s incapable of having a causal hobby like say knitting is for me … where ½ way through I decide I’m pretty much over that red sweater I spent the last 6 months on, so whatever, maybe I’ll pick it up after I finish this book. No, Hunter doesn’t do causal. After his 5^th weekend out, he came home and announced that he had conquered the green and moved up to a few blue runs with some success. He followed this by saying “if I keep going like this I’ll know how to ski pretty soon”. It was then that I realized he had been infected. His drive had taken over and there was nothing I could do about it. Still I said, “you just told me that you skied some blue runs today – doesn’t that pretty much mean you know how to ski?” – wait for it – there we go – insert incredulous look here. “No,” he says, “I mean the goal is to ski blacks.” As if everyone knows this. Though it was pointless, I couldn’t stop myself “actually, I think for most people learning how to ski, the goal is to successfully get down the hill without significantly injuring yourself and if you can do so vertically its like a double score.” But it was too late. I could see the visions of two black diamonds dancing in his head. Yes, I’ll admit – I’m a smidge jealous, having to sit this winter out, but its also very exciting. Plus, at least its a seasonal obsession.

In other news… as a follow up to Ahhhh Sugar Sugar I did get a diagnosis of gestational diabetes. So far, well, I mean… I’m not going to sugar coat it (tee hee) it sucks. What pregnant woman wants to be on a strict diet of lean meats & veggies with occasional splurge of whole grains and fruits when pregnant???? I mean – my favorite past time is watching food network and baking. I’ve been indulging in fresh cherries with yogurt as “desert” at night and that just got nixed. I’m also set for weekly Dr. visits and weekly ultrasounds from now until d-day. At least we’ll fill up our ultrasound dvd and will be well acquainted with little moon pie when she arrives. Speaking of, upon finding out the diagnosis my dad suggested that we might want to consider a new nick-name. Poor child probably is not going to end up with her daddy's metabolisim. Truth is, ‘mother-cold-to-end-all-colds’ and diabetes aside, all signs point to a very healthy baby and a slightly inconvenienced mama so I really have no complaints. If there’s one thing this experience has taught me, it is that with the proper motivation, any amount of self restraint and accomplishment is possible, so 9 more weeks of salads and turkey bacon are really not a problem – as long as someone hooks up some Tulie’s upon my arrival home. Seriously. I mean it about the Tulie's.