There is nothing new to report on the “trying to conceive” (TTC) front, aside from the fact that I am now on cycle day 13 (CD 13) and my lower back is killing me. I’m not prone to back pain and I haven’t been lifting heavy objects (as I usually completely ignore any and all physical activity) and the pain, while considerable, is pretty localized to just inside my two hip bones and doesn’t feel muscle-y, if that make sense. (I had to stop myself from writing “the pain is pretty localized to just medial to both ilium,” although I didn’t do a very thorough job because I just wrote it anyway.) I’m thinking this is either a Clomid side effect (as in: it is melting my insides) or a sign that I’m about to ovulate. Again, it could either be one thing or something completely different. So much certainty.
Aside from beginning the use of Clearblue Digital Ovulation Tests this week, I have also started itching to get out of Southern California. Big time. At the risk of sounding like I’m trying to Single White Female Fertile Myrtle, her decision to move somewhere less expensive, less crowded and hugely more scenic and adorable is making me jealous. Plus, she’ll be renting a house more than twice the size of ours here for about $600 less a month. My cousin fled Santa Monica about eight years ago and now owns a fabulous house next to pumpkin patches, apple orchards and blueberry farms. Also, they actually have fall and snow eventually, which is nice to fantasize about since it’s been 102* here for six weeks.
It’s all really exciting to think about, but in reality, I’m not sure I could ever really make such a huge move. I had the incredible good fortune to grow up five minutes from my mom’s parents and now they are two of my best friends. My grandma’s sisters, my great aunts, are my favorite drinking buddies. I’m sure I would still have adored them had I grown up farther away, because they are fantastic, but I’m also sure I wouldn’t be as close to them. Now that I’m (hopefully) on the road to pregnancy, I’m not entirely convinced that moving my children a plane ride away from all these people would improve our quality of life.
However, on days like Friday, when a wildfire broke out on the most congested freeway in LA at rush hour and closed down most alternate routes out of the city, thus making my commute of seven miles take two hours, I am ready to pack a bag and book a flight.
(In my defense, no people were injured and no homes were damaged, so I feel justified in my complaining.)
The husband and I drove down to San Diego on Saturday to have lunch with his mom and her fiance (whom she originally met and fell in love with 43 years ago – it could legitimately be a Nicholas Sparks novel) and just as I was about to pop an edamame bean into my mouth, I noticed it came with a friend:
Lesson here: always be on the lookout for edamame worms. I didn’t even know this was a thing.
I wore a cheap watch that aggravated my nickel allergy and have had this rash for three days:
Finally, on Saturday, our dog had apparently had it with our cheap blinds and our reluctance to commit to curtain rods, so she made the decision for us: