Ben rolled up a magazine with the intention of bopping Boo.

KC: Ah! Don’t hit Boo with that magazine!

Ben starts to pick up another magazine.

KC: Not that one, either! No hitting Boo with magazines!

Ben moves towards Boo.

KC: Or with your hands.

Ben moves towards a pillow.

KC: Or your pillows. Do nothing to the cat!

RB: FINE!

Ben bops me on the head with a magazine.

Ben and I made a deal before the baby arrived. We would strive to make Date Night a priority in this marriage. It’s difficult and we’ve only had one “real” date so far. I would like to do something a little different from dinner-and-a-movie. All of my creative juices are just flowing to different thought processes right now. Like how to make my daughter poop regularly without going into diarrhea mode. Any creative date suggestions?

OK, went in to see Sophia like I do every day. Talked to her nurse who says that Sophia is now constantly demanding her bottles at every feeding time. The doctor has moved her to nipple-nipple-gavage feeding rotations and may up her to nipple feedings every time by tomorrow or Wednesday. The nurse thinks that this is VERY possible and could mean that Sophie will be coming home on Friday or Saturday. This is exciting news.

Then we get a call. My wonderful husband calls to say that he can’t come and pick me up from the hospital. Why? That’s right. He thinks he’s getting sick. He rarely ever gets sick but has an annual bout of nasty cold stuff that he’s dealt with for years. It chose this week to show up. He and his daughter both share a talent for Bad Timing as well as having to have one foot out of the covers when they sleep.

Friends and family, I may be calling on you for assistance this week. Please put your tennis shoes on now.

I’m sitting in the office enjoying my pregnancy fueled dinner of pork and beans while watching Law and Order. Again. Some more. I hear my husband began laughing uncontrollably in the living room. He then comes back to the office with a laser pointer on the carpet. (This is the cat’s favorite game.) He is still giggling so much that he can barely get the words out. Finally he sits down and I get the story.

Background: Boo loves that laser pointer. We keep it on the coffee table and she knows it. If you touch that thing then Boo sits up on her hind legs and mews. It’s really very cute.

Ben started reaching for the laser pointer on the table. Boo popped her head up on the other side of the coffee table looking for her toy, mewing expectantly. As soon as her little head was visible, Ben bopped her on the head with a roll of paper towels. She ducked and mewed angrily. He did this three or four times or until the tears from laughing so hard made it difficult to see the cat.

So, to recap, a grown man that I willingly married whose genes my baby girl has already inherited…plays Whack-a-Mole with the cat. I’m a lucky woman.

There are times in a married woman’s life where she looks at her loving husband and can’t believe how lucky she is. I have a lot of those moments. Ben kisses me after every meal I make. He constantly tells me how much he appreciates my efforts at housework and mealtime. He tells me daily that I’m beautiful and funny. He makes me feel like the most special person in his life.

Then there are times where you watch your husband, a grown man, stuff the cat into a box and imitate a jack-in-the-box. Those are times when you have to remind yourself that you willingly went into this marriage and that your child is going to receive half of his genes.

He’s in there gagging at the kitty litter. He’s not happy about the fact that I can’t clean the litter box anymore. Especially since that was our agreement.

He’s so sweet.

UPDATE: After he finished, he said “THERE. The cat litter is taken out. HAPPY?!” Yep. He’s sweet alright.

Kelly’s Inner Monologue from the last 2 weeks:

MONDAY 06/18/07
Ugh…I’m still feeling sick. That stomach bug really had a lasting effect.

WEDNESDAY 06/20/07
Man, I’m tired! I guess the iron and vitamins aren’t cutting it anymore.

SUNDAY 06/24/07
Gee…it’s kinda late. Well, I am under a lot of stress.

MONDAY MORNING 06/25/07
This is ridiculous. There’s just no way.

MONDAY NIGHT 06/25/07
OK…I’ll do it just so I can tell my doctor that I’ve eliminated that possibility.

Huh. OK, that was a fluke.

Um…SWEETIE?!?!?!?!?!

I woke up this morning before my alarm went off and decided to just doze. I usually sleep on my right side facing the edge of the bed. Ben turned over and, while still sleeping, began to stroke my arm. Then he reached further and pulled me back into him. He kept softly snorning while he cuddled against my back.

Reason #452,536,645 why Ben is a wonderful man: Even while sleeping, he wants to be close to me.

Last night, my sweet husband was having serious issues. I tried to get him water, cool washcloths, paper towels and fix the bed the right way so that he could feel just a little bit better. But there is still something that I need to confess. It’s eating away at my soul. Y’all, I have never heard such horrific sounds come from a human being. At one point while fixing the bedspread and turning on the fan…I fell over the edge of the bed and just giggled like a maniac. Because I’m heartless that way. It was awful and I immediately tried to wipe the smile off of my face. Of course, then another “BLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGH” would resonate in the bathroom and I could not HELP MYSELF. Baby, I’m sorry. I still love you and will do anything to make you feel better.

Thankfully, other wives have similar reactions to their spouses.

It’s only one week into my marriage and I’m already considering hanging my brand new husband from the ceiling by his toenails.

Ben and I are both very sprawly sleepers. We like our space. We get cuddly and like to snuggle quite a bit but it always ends up with one of us saying “It’s hot, GETOFFAME!” There’s the other issue. We’re both hot, sweaty sleepers. Now, I’m a hot, sweaty sleeper who likes to keep the room at about the same temperature as Santa’s Workshop. I could leave a carton of ice cream on my nightstand and not see any difference the next morning. Ben likes to keep the apartment warm enough so he doesn’t have to wear clothes and still keep his masculinity intact. (It’s OK, sweetie. BREATHE.)

Usually, I’m first to bed because I get up early. Ben crawls in bed a couple of hours later and shoves me back to my side. Now, once I move, I stay there but Ben keeps creeping over onto my side. He rolls, steals sheets and generally pushes me to the very edge of the bed until my head is resting on the nightstand and my feet are dangling. I wake up nearly every morning teetering dangerously close to cracking my skull on the wall. In the beginning I would tap Ben on his shoulder and gently ask with sugar on top would he mind moving just a little so that I can lay down just a little closer to my side? And have just a little bit of the blankets?  Now I brace myself against the wall and push as hard as I can to roll that sleeping giant back to his spot. Then I yank the sheets back which spins him back even further.  He waits 5 minutes and then flops back not just stealing my space but also planting an elbow in my nostril.  We just have to find a better arrangement.

Maybe tonight I’ll try dynamite.