Magrilless

Less than a week until my “confinement” begins, and I’m at twelve and a third squares. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow where I’ll learn how many more thousands of pounds I’ve gained. It seems like it must be that much in the last two weeks. Even though I don’t look or measure all that differently, I feel a bit different. I’m slowing down, folks! And today when I carried two 7-lb pumpkins out of the nursery, one under each arm, I couldn’t help but think that I looked like I was shoplifting an extra one.

Well, I guess I’m picking up the pace a bit. Already this week I’m at 12 and a quarter. And I learned at my last doctor’s appointment that I’ve gained 7 pounds in the last 2 weeks! That brings my total up to 16 pounds, which we’re all happy with (the books tell you between 25 and 35 is a good amount for an average woman). I was starting to wonder what the baby was growing with.

This past weekend my college roommate and her running buddy came to stay with us for the weekend. They used us as home base while they competed in a half marathon in Boston. Bill and I went up to town with them early on Sunday morning, bundled all up until the sun peeked out, so we could cheer them on down the course.

I had found this race last year and decided we would train for and do, since we would be living right there after all. Well, other things got in the way of that, obviously. This was the first time Bill’s been to a race without participating (not counting the Illinois marathon that we happened to find out was going past our house), and one of my few too. It was a little sad, a little frustrating to not be a part of all the juice and excitement and pride and comraderie. But we got into the spirit of things when we were standing just up from the finish line and saw our girls coming in strong and fast!

Here’s Teresa — she finished 24th out of all the women in the entire race!

And Rachel was running so fast toward the line that she ran right out of the picture before I could snap a shot. I can just make out her left leg here.

They sure earned their medals! Both of them got within at least 2 minutes of their goal times — can’t do much better than that!

And they even had enough energy left over for a rousing puzzle that evening. Not only did they finish a half marathon; they finished an entire jigsaw too! Can there be a better day than that?

Next year, Bill and I will be there at the finish line, hopefully striding across it with as much enthusiasm, Baby clapping for us to run run run!

I am officially 12 squares! So the baby may not be eating me from the inside out after all. Good news, I think.

I’m still feeling pretty normal, overall. Sleeping a bit more and an occasional backache is all I really have to complain about. I blame (I mean thank) the dogs. When the doctor asks me if I continue to go on walks, I always say the same thing: it’s hard to cheat with two high-energy dogs (and only three medium-energy people) in the house all day. Think I’ll make it to 13 squares before d-day?

The other day Bill and I took the poochies for a walk in the Blue Hills. It was a pretty perfect fall day. Warm enough for shorts and a T-shirt while walking, a little breeze, fall colors just beginning to dominate. It had been cool enough in previous days that there were no mosquitoes to pester us or spiders to build their webs across the path.

The trail went up. It went down. It went through foresty forest. It went through piney forest. It went past rocks and ponds. And there were only a couple of other people out. The dogs scampered and snarfed and generally ran amok, obviously enjoying themselves and getting all tangled up in their leashes.

Then we got close to the parking lot on the return loop and I noticed a new spot on Eliza’s neck. Not a spot, it turns out — a tick. And as we were pinching that one off her fur, I noticed another one on her back by her tail. When we got to the car to do the habitual tick check, there was another one on Eliza’s forehead and yet a fourth on a back leg. While checking her belly (where she’s made to stand on her back legs and reach for the sky), I noticed that she’d stepped in some other animal’s droppings and it was all squished between her toes. Ick. No more ticks at least. Then we both looked at Kaibab, black and thickly furred. How in the world do you do a tick check on this dog? Maybe, since Eliza’s definitely getting a bath once we get home, what with all the tickness and poopness, it will be easier to check Kaibab if she’s wet. Then all her fur would be flat against her and we could probably find her skin underneath.

Wrong. What a mess. Kaibab’s fur wet is just a matted ball of harder-to-run-your-fingers-through hair. And even though the bathtub (and me) was covered in tufts of wet black fuzz, I swear she grew more hair once it got wet. So, not easier to do a tick check on a soaked Kaibab. And then she jumped out of the tub and shook and there was hair all over the walls and door and cabinets and toilet at Kaibab level. Once she got out of the bathroom I think she walked around the apartment leaning against the walls too, because the living room was also Kaibab furred up to the suspicious level of her muzzle.

In the end we found and removed a total of six ticks on Eliza and three or four on Kaibab. The bathroom got cleaned and aired. The walls got washed. The dogs smelled like rainbows for a day or two. And we put our trust in the monthly dose of Frontline they each receive.

Just another tranquil autumn day.