35 Is An Impatient Number
35 days until we close on the house.
35 days until we move.
35 days until I no longer have to share a tiny tiny bathroom with 2 males.
35 days until we have not just one, but two spacious living areas to relax in.
35 days until we are no longer strapped, strapped, strapped for cash. (Okay, fewer than that, really, because our last day of scrimp'n'save will be 8/31. But I've got a theme going here, work with me.)
35--the age I will be in October. The age at which the medical community decides your eggs have outlived their shelf lives and are suspect. The age at which your chances of having a baby with Downs or some other abnormality doubles.
I'm not worried about that, though. After all, the sperm I'm working with are still under 30, living in their parents' basements and trying to figure out what they want to be when they grow up. I'm more concerned about the actual chances of us spawning in the not-too-distant future.
On the one hand, the longer it takes, the better off we are financially when it happens.
On the other hand, I have all the patience of a boiling kettle. And the irony of conception is not lost on me--when you absolutely, positively should NOT conceive, it's simple. When you want to, it's mission impossible. Hmph. Oh, well. We're having fun working on it, I admit. Work, work, work. :)
Today is Bob's last day of preschool ever. He's been there since December, 2005, when I was at the end of my rope with Bob and wondering if I was going to have to quit my job because there was no place for him to go. The teachers there not only made him their personal mission, they have also become our friends. I owe them--a lot. And that's all I can say about it because I'm tearing up.
We're having lunch at school with Bob today, so I should probably go get some work done. But first--Cabinet Update--I got the paint off the glass (hot vinegar--I swear), and the plan is now to cut a hole in the back to accommodate our non-flat screen tv, which will call the living room home for the remainder of its life. The end.
35 days until we move.
35 days until I no longer have to share a tiny tiny bathroom with 2 males.
35 days until we have not just one, but two spacious living areas to relax in.
35 days until we are no longer strapped, strapped, strapped for cash. (Okay, fewer than that, really, because our last day of scrimp'n'save will be 8/31. But I've got a theme going here, work with me.)
35--the age I will be in October. The age at which the medical community decides your eggs have outlived their shelf lives and are suspect. The age at which your chances of having a baby with Downs or some other abnormality doubles.
I'm not worried about that, though. After all, the sperm I'm working with are still under 30, living in their parents' basements and trying to figure out what they want to be when they grow up. I'm more concerned about the actual chances of us spawning in the not-too-distant future.
On the one hand, the longer it takes, the better off we are financially when it happens.
On the other hand, I have all the patience of a boiling kettle. And the irony of conception is not lost on me--when you absolutely, positively should NOT conceive, it's simple. When you want to, it's mission impossible. Hmph. Oh, well. We're having fun working on it, I admit. Work, work, work. :)
Today is Bob's last day of preschool ever. He's been there since December, 2005, when I was at the end of my rope with Bob and wondering if I was going to have to quit my job because there was no place for him to go. The teachers there not only made him their personal mission, they have also become our friends. I owe them--a lot. And that's all I can say about it because I'm tearing up.
We're having lunch at school with Bob today, so I should probably go get some work done. But first--Cabinet Update--I got the paint off the glass (hot vinegar--I swear), and the plan is now to cut a hole in the back to accommodate our non-flat screen tv, which will call the living room home for the remainder of its life. The end.
posted by Mitzi Green at 7:32 AM
2 Comments:
Wow - you're so close on the new house. And congrats on the last day of preschool. Two and a half more weeks for us on kindergarten. I am so, so ready.
I was pregnant with my kids at 35 and it went relatively well. By the way, your chance of twins also goes up with age. That ought to put you at ease :).
dear joansy,
thank you for striking fear in my soul.
love,
mitzi
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