RIDICULOSITIES

The other day I sent my husband a little email at work telling him how grateful I am that he has been putting up with me lately. There are a few things about being pregnant that are, well, just plain ridiculous. And since along with being pregnant my brain capacity and recall is in sharp decline, I told my dear husband thanks for putting up with my "ridiculosities." New word. Take it or leave it Webster. Let me illustrate "ridiculosities."

So the other day one of our goats had 3 little babies. Just like she did last year. One was a bit smaller than the others and really weak. Just like there was last year. Here we go again. Since my dutiful husband works during the day, I was sent over to the farm to see if I could get the little runt to latch on and start getting some milk from her mama. Fortunately, I was able to get the mama goat tied up. Unfortunately, I couldn't get her to stand still. No really, just go ahead and get a good visual here. Here I am, trying to hold the mama goat in a corner with my leg wedged in her shoulder. Then with my right hand I grab the wobbly little baby and try to get her to suck, using my left hand to hold on to the mama goat's collar so I don't get repeated blows up the rear from her horns while she is struggling to get free. Obviously mother nature is not on my side here.

Let's break it down.

First and foremost, I'm pregnant. And here in this situation is a cute little brand new baby goat who can hardly stand up who just really needs to drink from her mom. I can still feel all those great pregnancy hormones kicking in here. So what do I do? Well, I give my husband a call of course. And then what do I do? I cry. Yes, I cry. Cry because I can't get the goat to hold still so her poor little baby can drink. Ridiculous. Very ridiculous. The worst part is that despite me knowing it is absolutely ridiculous, I can't help but cry. Jacob was so kind to just let me cry, even though I could sense on the other end of the line he was sitting there in his office at work thinking to himself, "Are you seriously crying? That's ridiculous." Of course being the smart man that he is he would never actually vocalize that thought. It's best that he just kept it to himself. Bless his heart.

If only that could be enough for one good man to deal with in a day. I just had one more little request.

Grapefruit juice.

Aaah, yes. My mouth waters as I think of it. With a little salt. I don't really recall cravings with my first two pregnancies, but my oh my does grapefruit juice ever taste good. The other day I was perusing the produce section of our local Associated Foods store and came across those beautiful yellow and pink fleshed beauties and my mouth began to water. Oh they were divine. So then I decided to juice a few of them. It was sheer heaven. My husband sat on the couch with his root beer float and I sat next to him savoring every last drop of my grapefruit juice. I could read his mind: "that is ridiculous." So, in the next email I sent to him I casually requested he stop off at the grocery store on the way home from work and grab me a jug of the good stuff. I got a call around 5 o'clock as my dear husband is reading me the ingredient labels on half a dozen different juices to find me just the right one. As quoted in The Princess Bride, that is "Wuv. Twue Wuv." But honestly, grapefruit juice? Ridiculous.