Uh oh. Still two weeks away from surgery and the baby thoughts are taking over again. Checking Bab.ycentre boards, looking at IF blogs when I should be working, thinking of knitting baby blankets. I was doing so well, I don't want to fall into that vicious circle until there is actually a reason.

I'm really looking forward to this weekend. It will be our first of the last seven weekends where we will be home. Well, not true, a couple of weekends ago we were home but it didn't count because Mr. M's sister was visiting from Ontario. It hardly counts as a weekend off when you are dragged from mall to mall (ugh) and to the Cal.gary Stam.pede (twice!). I will clean my house, I will weed my vegetable garden (properly) and Ms. O will be selling lemonade tomorrow.

I can't even explain how happy I am to have her back. I'm not myself without her around. I drink way too much when she isn't here. What do you do when kids aren't around? Go for beers, of course! One night while she was away I was pushing dinner back more and more until M. M said he was starving, why didn't I want to eat? I said I didn't know what to do after dinner, I was afraid to eat. He suggested I give him a bath and read him a chapter of Ha.rry Po.tter.

It's not that I don't have a life outside of her but it interrupts the progression of the day. If I don't absolutely have to do something, it seems I choose to start a fire in the backyard (in the fire pit, I mean) and crack a beer instead. Laundry? Pffft. Go for a walk? As if. None if it is quite as much fun without her following me around talking non-stop. Even a trip to the bookstore wasn't the same without her. Some of my friends complain that daily chores are more difficult with kids, waiting to go for groceries until after their husbands come home and so on. I've just never really felt that way. Granted Ms. O was a really quiet baby so I never did have to deal with the screaming baby while in line behind 20 other people. Even if she did cry in line it didn't bother me. I'm sure everyone else in line didn't feel the same way but like I said to one grumbling gum-snapping 19(ish) year old in line at Supe.rstore "Babies cry".

Well, I'm rambling now, I should go.