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Archive for October, 2012

Last week, I dropped my razor twice in the shower, once on each foot. The right foot took it especially hard, and I had to call Chris to help me bandage it (I couldn’t reach it myself) so I didn’t bleed all over the floor.

On Saturday, I sliced through my left thumb while chopping up an onion, and I sliced my middle finger open with a falling carving knife that for some absurd reason I’d decided to keep on the top shelf of a cupboard.

That injury led to a good-sized meltdown that involved somehow finding a way to blame Chris for my decision to store the carving knife in such a dumb spot. I swear I didn’t throw tantrums before (and I wasn’t particularly clutzy, either), but since I’ve been pregnant, Chris has been on the receiving end of a few doozies. And you know what he does when I lose it? He just listens and patiently waits for me to finish. I eventually calm myself down and apologize, we hug, and we continue on with our days.

That’s what happened yesterday. My sweet husband just stood there and absorbed my anger, and once I’d gotten rid of it all, he accepted my apology. He told me: “I understand that you just need to use me as a punching bag sometimes these days.”

Then, today, he insisted on scheduling a prenatal massage for me. I would rather save the money or spend it on the baby, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

In conclusion, I love my punching bag a whole bunch.

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Well, we don’t live in New York anymore. I cried a lot when we left on Saturday, which was surprising, because I hated our apartment so much and was pretty tired of the city, too, but now that we are here, I am so incredibly happy. It’s amazing what three times as much space will do for you. And windows that provide natural light. And the ability to maintain the temperature indoors at a reasonable level.

Also, our neighbors continue to impress us as quite possibly the kindest neighbors in history. Scott down the street stopped by the other day and ended up setting up our gas dryer for us. I am so excited to do 1,000 loads of laundry. I mean it — I’m so excited! (It doesn’t hurt that half the loads are adorable tiny baby clothes.)

I was sad to leave Brooklyn because I’ve lived there for longer than anywhere else since Walla Walla, and we left some very good friends behind. But I think my emotional response to leaving had more to do with all the important things that happened to me while I was there. I received my master’s degree. I found a good, stable job that I’ve stuck with for almost six years. I lived by myself for the first time, in a bargain-bin apartment that quickly lost its charm. I met my husband at that job, and I planned our wedding from that apartment. We made our baby there. Despite my frustrations with that city, New York was very good to me.

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