One More Mommy

Thoughts of a mom and her husband, son, daughter, pets, friends, job (or lack thereof), house, family, trying to be more ecologically aware...

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Smokey Dog Boobs

I ran into the wall when I was turning the corner the other day. This is actually kind of normal for me, I smack my shoulders on walls regularly because I am in my own world. This time was different, though, because I smacked my boob on the wall. And my boobs, they are really sensitive right now. And apparently, unwieldy.

The second pregnancy is easier in a lot of ways, the biggest being that I’ve already come to terms with having no control over my body. And the things that happen in pregnancy always seem to be a bit WTF? We seem to have passed the queasiness of the first trimester, and now we’re heading into heartburn land. Last night I had my first Tums since the last pregnancy, and they still taste chalky and gross and do an effective job of halting the acid from creeping up your throat.

We have potentially exciting news in that we are taking home a dog for a trial weekend. We met her on Monday and she was sweet, but may try to hurt the cats. She stared at them intently, but didn’t snap, so we just don’t know. I think she’s smart enough to learn that they are pets, too. At one point she had her nose in Moxy’s face, and Moxy being Moxy, he merely puffed up his tail to emphasize his size (you’re 18 pounds, cat, the tail puff is overdoing it a tad) and stood there looking somewhat uncomfortable. Simba, meanwhile, found spots to sit and stare at the interloper from all angles.

Segue. Well, imagine one here, anyway.

This morning The Consultant arrived, as usual, at 8 AM, and took his seat, which is about four feet from me. This was after he rolled in cigarette ashes and then sat in a steam room (AKA his car) full of smoke, because the man REEKED of it. Smoking is something I really don’t get. I admit to having smoked about ten times when drunk. However, there are plenty of things I won’t admit to doing while drunk, so if you’re thinking I’m so awful by smoking after having knocked back a few, you should get back to the cloister because it’s prayer time.

I get that it’s addictive. But I don’t see what the motivation is to START. Especially now, when we know so much about how bad it is for your health. Especially if you’ve ever been around someone who reeked of smoke. The vast majority of people in my age bracket that are my acquaintances do not smoke, and each time I find out someone does I have a mental shock. Because I think they’re stupider than previously assessed.


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