Pukey

And I really wish it was me.

Peanut woke up this morning just fine. We all got ready to start our day, and as we were putting on her shoes, she started coughing. That cough. And then out came two little partially digested grapes. On her bedroom floor.

I thought maybe it was just something that had upset her stomach in the morning, since she didn't puke up a lot. So we continued getting ready, and just as we were walking to the door to leave, she coughed again.

This time, I picked her up and ran with her to the bathroom, where she proceeded to throw up her cereal bar, water, and vitamin that she'd just had.

So we called the sitter to tell her Peanut wasn't coming, and I went to put in my absence for the day. Then I took off the clothes I'd just ironed, put them back in the closet, and started my day of dealing with puke every 30 minutes or so.

Poor little thing hasn't even been able to hold down water or ice chips, so around 11, I called our doctor's office to speak with a nurse and see if there was anything to do, since she wasn't running a fever. The nurse told me to bring her in at 2, so I went and put her down for a nap, albeit one that was interrupted every 30 minutes.

I'll tell you this, though. She's gotten really good at throwing up and not getting it on herself.

Someone was smiling down on my as I drove to the med center. We had green lights the entire way, and Peanut didn't have to use the large, plastic bowl I gave her.

The doc gave her some medicine to deal with the nausea, and I gave it to her right after we left. Since she had been begging for water the whole time we were there, I gave her a few tiny sips.

And then my luck ran out.

We hit almost every light red on the way home, and 5 minutes out from the doctor's office, I heard a little squeak of "Daddy!" from the back seat. We were at a red light, and I turned around to see her holding something in her mouth. I held the bowl up to her, just as the light turned green, and she cut loose. Since she hadn't had very much water, it wasn't too bad, but I had to find somewhere to pull over quickly.

When we made it home, she just looked completely wiped out, but she insisted on staying in the living room with me. She threw up two more times, and finally fell asleep on the couch. She's been out for about 45 minutes and...



Nope...there she goes again. That's what I get for even thinking that we were through the woods.

Too much on my plate

About once or twice a year, I'll get this wild itch to do one of two things:

1) Shut it down.

2) Reveal to all of you who I really am and direct you to my blog that everyone else in my life knows about.

I mean, I'd tell ya'll if I decided to stop blogging, but let's be honest with each other here. I haven't been at it all that much lately. I haven't been very good at keeping you up to date with the goings on in the Bridegroom household. And sometimes, I just feel like my life would be easier without having to remember which made up names I'd used for which people in my life.

I reached that point again this past week, since I've started experimenting with Twitter, am trying like hell to keep up with Facebook, as well as my family blog, and a school project for a cousin online too, and don't even get my started on my quest for affordable acreage.

The other night, I didn't even crack the laptop when I got home. And it was bliss.

But alas, I would miss the three of you who read and comment on my ramblings, and somehow it just wouldn't be the same. I mean, where would I go to vent when my wife was acting overly jealous, or some relative of mine needed a tongue (albeit virtual) lashing.

And just like every time I go through this phase, I will promise to try to be better, more consistent, with my posting. Just bear with me if things get a little sparse.

Falling off the wagon

Juice and I spent the weekend looking for land, since we finally got our piece of the settlement from my Grandmother's estate, who died over a year ago. It was a nice chunk of change, and along with our tax return this year, will make for a sizable down payment on the land on which we can build our dream home.

Since we'd had a late breakfast with Juice's father, none of us were really all that hungry as we started driving toward the southeast side of San Antonio around 11:30. After a couple of hours in the car, however, Peanut was starting to get crabby and we figured she might be a bit hungry.

Since we were out in the boonies, we stopped at the first place we could find that had something suitable for 2 year old consumption - Burger King. Are we great parents, or what? Walking in, I wasn't that hungry, but as the smells of charbroiled burgers hit me, my stomach started to growl.

I decided that I'd been good for a pretty long time, so I treated myself to a burger and some onion rings.

And now that I've fallen off, it's hard getting back on. Especially since I'm back at work now, and have to actually think about what I'm going to eat first thing in the morning.

Severely Outnumbered

What a difference a few years makes. St. Patrick's Day used to be my day to go and party (along with about 100 other days during the year). You know, the freckles and reddish-brown hair meant that I had to go and celebrate my heritage my getting as drunk as possible.

This year, I spend St. Patty's Day at the doctor's office, driving around town looking at land, taking my wife and daughter to dinner at a Wingstop that doesn't have a liquor license yet, and I was in bed by 9:30 having drank only 2 beers out of my fridge the entire evening.

Damn, I'm getting old.

So yeah, about that doctor's appointment.

According to the ultrasound nurse, we're having another girl. Now, I know that it's not always 100%, but I got a pretty good look and it looks like girl parts to me too. Of course, as my boss always likes to say, "Let me show you a picture of my little girl," as she proceeds to pull a picture of her son off her desk. So we'll have to keep a boy's name in reserve, just in case, but we're pretty sure.

I just hope PMS Buddy is still around in 12-13 years...with two teenage girls and my wife in the house, I'm going to need it!

Yes, yes, I know it's been a week...

Hi there again. Sorry to leave you hanging.

Sometimes it feels like I just have too many things to juggle. My secret garden blog over here. A family blog over there. A professional blog way over there that's seen better days. Family. Friends. TV shows on the DVR.

And then yesterday, my allergies kicked my ass all day long. I don't get how, when it's raining (finally, by the way) how my allergies can be all allergy-y. I took so many allergy medications yesterday, it's a miracle I could drive myself home from work. I was in bed by 8:30, and slept until the rain started pounding again around 4 AM.

So...what's been going on around the Bridegroom's house lately? A lot.

My parents are currently living in our spare bedroom, as their lease expired at the end of last month, but my dad was in a boot/cast with a stress fracture in his foot. He really wasn't all that jazzed about going back up north to begin with, so they decided to stay with us for a couple of extra weeks.

Unfortunately, my parents are leaving on Sunday, which is when I start a week off from work. The timing was just bad this year, or else my dad and I would have gotten to do a lot more fishing. As it is, we did get to go a few times over the past couple of weeks.

We also have a sonogram scheduled for next week, so hopefully we'll know soon what flavor of baby we're having.

Peanut is less than enthusiastic about the new child. She is just completely indifferent about it. "What do you think the baby is going to be? A boy or girl?" "I don't know." "What should we name it?" "Not yet."

But today, I had lunch with Juice, Peanut, and my Mom, and a family walked with with a baby carrier. Peanut was beside herself asking questions. "Is that a baby? What's the baby's name? What dat baby doing? Can I see it? Can I see the baby?" Juice looked at me and said, "I hope she's this enthusiastic when ours comes around."

I've been feeling the baby kick more and more over the past week, and it's kind of exciting. Juice and I have been trying to come up with names, and I think we've got at least one or two girl's names hammered out, but we just can't think of any boy's names. That makes me feel more and more like it's going to be a girl. Of course, we'll get to the doctor next week, find out it's a boy, and spend the next 20 weeks trying to come up with something we can both agree on.

Speaking of which, do you know how hard it is to come up with names that a) have already been taken by my rather large family and b) haven't been ruined for us by being the name of a former student who was a total shit? Maybe that's why we're having such a hard time with boy's names. We both taught middle school, and you know how boys are at that age. Ugh.

In which (hopefully) my waist begins to shrink

I am well aware that we're a week into Lent, and while I'm not usually one for following through on the religious rules (moved in before we got married, sex before said marriage, eating meat whenever the hell I want, and a litany of others) I have decided to give up something for Lent this year.

A week ago, I ate my last fast-food hamburger for 40 days. And I went out with a bang...a Carl's Jr. Original $6 Burger.

Originally, I thought I'd give up soda and fast food, but a fella has to have something to keep him sane, right? Actually, I was doing pretty well on the soda thing for a few days until I had sushi for lunch on Friday, and I don't know about you, but I've also been a soda-with-sushi kind of guy. At least when I'm eating it for lunch. Sort of like beer-and-pizza, you know?

But the fast food thing has had some unintended effects. I've had to start planning what I'm going to eat for lunch in the mornings. No more, "Oh, I'll just pick something up," because most of the time, picking something up means fast food.

Now, I did have to set some ground rules. My favorite quick barbecue joint (Bill Miller's for those of you in the area) does not qualify as fast food because the food is slow cooked and cut in front of you. When you order a brisket sammich, they pull out a big hunk of smoked meat and hand slice it right in front of you. It's no more fast food than getting a sandwich at a deli counter. Still, I have tried to stay away from Bill's and when I do go there, I try to get something healthy, like a salad, and don't eat the fries. Fries are fast food no matter where you go.

If there are no other options, and I MUST stop at a fast food joint, I have to have something healthy there as well. For example, the other day Juice was starving and we didn't have time to go anywhere but Sonic. So I bucked up, had a salad, and called it a day.

I'm hoping that they end result will be that I detox a bit from all of the fast food, end up with a little fatter wallet, and a little skinnier waist.

Un-nerved

Our good friend Chica was at an ACTS retreat this weekend. I don't know much about it, other than it's a weekend of soul searching and getting closer to God.

As part of the retreat, family and friends are invited to a thing called "candle light" Which is basically a ceremony for the people in the retreat to see the people who really care for them and love them, and a chance for those family and friends to pray for the people in the retreat.

We decided to tag along with The Mann and a few other friends to show support for Chica. She was taking part in this retreat the same week as her final chemo treatment, so this whole thing was a big deal for her.

We got there early because we heard it would probably be packed, and as we walked in we were greeted with guitar music. There was a trio playing guitar at the front of the room, rather enthusiastically.

As people started to file in, the room started to get warm, despite being in the mid-50's outside. As it got more packed, it got more warm, and things started getting weird.

The guy playing lead guitar (all acoustic by the way), started talking into his Madonna/Brittney style boom mic, but all we could hear was "wah wah wah wah wah wah" ala Charlie Brown's teacher. On top of that, he was trying to talk over a room full of people who were, in turn, talking to each other, which made it hard to even hear the wah wahs. Add to that the bevy of percussion instruments they were handing out to the children who attended (we did not take Peanut because this thing started after her bedtime) and it became a complete sensory overload.

Once the ceremony started, we were told that we'd basically be singing and praying until the retreatants (who had no idea that any of this was going on) came into the room. And here's the thing. I don't mind singing and praying for someone, but I'd really like them to be there for it. The whole idea was to show how much we cared for these people we were there for, but more than half of the ceremony, they weren't even in the room.

When word finally came that they were indeed on their way, was started into this two line song which repeated over and over and over and over until the retreatants came into the room. We must've sang that song 60 times if we sang it once.

Around the 30th time of repeating it, people's fake candles waving back and forth, I startted to wonder if there actually was a reatreat, or if this was some elaborate brain-washing scheme. As it got warmer, I became more delirious, wondering if maybe they were going to force us all to drink Kool-Aid or turn on the gas. Cult like chanting and singing do not sit well with me.

See, I was brought up to believe that church is a quiet place. A place where you can reflect on your thoughs and actions, and this was nothing like that. I couldn't even hear myself think.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour singing the same two lines over and over, the people we came to see finally entered the room. In the end, it was great to see Chica so happy to see all of us. I hope that the retreat gave her the strength and serenity she needed to face everything that's ahead of her. I just don't think I'll be doing anything like that again anytime soon.