Blechh. My calves hurt (three charley horses last night--Eric said, "How is that possible when you only have two legs?") and I'm tired and there's a baby bubbling around in my internal organs. The last bit isn't so bad, except sometimes I wish I could make it stop, and the middle one is a good tired; I went out and worked in the garden and the yard a bit, and that makes me happy. Eric was going to mow the lawn, but his shoulder injury from an old car accident flared up again yesterday (possibly triggered by an irritating episode with his mother and her computer) so he's taking it easy. I'm trying to, too. We went to our first childbirth class on Thursday and I walked out of it crying because the relaxation exercise had triggered a whole bunch of unhappiness I hadn't realized I was carrying around. Eric said, "Apparently neither of us are real good at the relaxing thing," but we're giving it a try.
This weekend we intend to unload the bookcases in the office so that we can replace them with the bigger bookcases in the nursery, and make ice cream. Lemon ice cream. Yummy yummy lemon ice cream. I also intend to make another batch of chai, if there's enough cream left. I made some this past week just because I felt like it, and I think I'm getting close to a good recipe. I'd like to have someone else to get a second opinion (Eric's no good because he doesn't like chai), though I'm not sure why when it's my taste I'm trying to cater to. I think. Anyway, books and ice cream ahead. What could be more relaxing than that?
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