Sick Leave

I stood by the door with my finger and thumb held to my face.

"rrrrrrrriiiiinnnggggg"

He was on his stomach on the bed with some books and he briefly glanced at me. "Hey." Is what he said.

"rrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinng" I said again.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his finger and thumb, checked the caller I.D., decided not to answer, and put his hand back in his pocket.

"RRRRRIIIIIINNNNNG" my call got more impatient. He sighed.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hi, is this Mr. Holbrook? Hi, this is your wife."

"Oh, hi wife!" he said into his fingers.

"Hi, I'm calling in sick. I've got this headache?... If it's okay with you, I'll be spending the rest of the day on the couch not doing anything."

"... Okay, I'll just be here in the bedroom, studying."

"You can manage okay?"

"Sure. Take some medicine."

"Okay." I agreed. "Sorry I didn't finish the laundry," I threw in for good measure.

"Kiss kiss," he said. (Not very professional.)

Then we hung up and I took up camp on the sofa.

What I did while I did nothing:
~ Finish Season 3 of Arrested Development (raging crush on Buster Bluth)
~ Catch up on 30 Rock episodes
~ Find some new blogs I am obsessed with
~ Remember at the nick of time to take my vitamin
~ Let Petey out to pee a bajillion times. Boy is his bladder working!

Now, let's talk about a raise, Holbsy.

My Mister

On Friday night I got all dolled up and The Holbs took me as his date to his MBA Graduation Banquet. We looked awful cute together (B picked out a tie to match my dress, all by himself).

We were there because B was awarded the Distinguished MBA Scholar award. 

Pretty proud of that turkey.

I thought my shoes looked cute tonight.

And then he bought me a soda pop. 

 I know, what a guy.

Now, just one more year of law school to go!

Official MBA Graduation Photos, by Troy
(I can't vouch for any of the faces made by The Holbs below.)









Thanks, Klika!

Post Script: We found out today that The Holbs got the Campus Judicial Officer position he wanted for next year. He's on fiyah! Now, get me pregnant already!

Second Sunday In May

Well, it is Mother's Day again.

Ugghhhhhhh.

Last year I survived the pink carnations in Sacrament and the "Would you like a flower, Sister Holbrook?" by reminding myself that it was my last year. My last year as a not-mom. We had just decided we were ready for fat babies. If nothing else, I was sure to be at least pregnant by the time Mother's Day rolled around again, no sweat! Also I used that giant pink carnation as a weapon in my Primary class, bopping unruly ten year olds on the head and shaking its pink petals in boys faces when they talked out of turn. I was basically beating my kids with Mother's Day. Because that is basically what Mother's Day does to me.

Mother's Day, my old nemesis.

As usual in times of turmoil, the day before Mother's Day found me contemplating in the sun perched upon my hammock. Good as a therapist, the sun is. My eyelids were red with sun when the husband stepped into the glare, casting shadows all over the hammock and interrupting my absorption of Vitamin D and the Earth's wisdom.

"I got you a Mother's Day present. Do you want it today, or tomorrow?"

"Umm..."

"Okay, I'll wrap it now!" And then he ran back into the house.

The sun blasted back on my face and I glanced down at Barnaby, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay! Come inside!" The shadow was back.

On the table sat a bright green package with a little blue bow. Inside was Pinnochio and Sleeping Beauty, to add to my collection of Disney movies for my someday kids. Good job, cute husband.

Then The Holbs casually pointed out that oh, there was another gift by the hydrangea.

And there it was.

A baby just for me.

I had always told The Holbs that when we had our first baby we would buy us a big mama camera, just like I had always told The Holbs that when I got pregnant I would quit my job. Looking back I recognize the error of my ways. Too much pressure to put on a poor uterus. I kind of like this new philosophy.

Later that night as I listened to a message saved just for me on my cell phone from my mother, calling to tell me that I was in her heart this weekend (get that, my mother calling me for Mother's Day), that's when I realized it: I sure am loved.

Happy Not-A-Mother's Day to me.
Here's to next year.

natalie, a time line

The Stats

i found some of my old photos the other day.

well, now we are all caught up.

PETEY

Test results came back on the stones removed from Peter Pan's bladder and it is not particularly good. His stones are calcium oxalate, which means they cannot be dissolved through antibiotics, and our best bet is to try and keep them from coming back. 50% of dogs who've had these stones removed will get them again. Best case scenario, he is on his pricey new doggie food with urine tests every two months. Worse case scenario, the food doesn't control it and we have to add a potassium pill, and if that doesn't cut it, he gets ultrasounds and catheters to flush out his bladder while the stones are still small.

Either way, we have a sickly doggie.

It breaks my heart but we are ready to do whatever we can to keep this pup as healthy as could be.

I went back through all our old photos today and found a few of my favorites of Mr. Petey the Pan.

Such a sweet, weird little turkey, this one.