The Craft Show: An Exercise in Fun & Sadness

Greetings Humble Readers!
I hope that you're all having a great weekend! 

Mine has been good so far... we had a great time at the craft show and got a few really cool things.  The place was insanely busy, as I expected.  We also spent more money that I had anticipated... but that happens at these things. 

We found Christmas gifts for the parental units (unique framed prints of the word "family").  I got some chocolate covered dried strawberries (for my stocking, Beloved has hidden them away for me).  We got a couple of very cute hats for the Halfling, and this hilarious onesie...

I saw a lot of things I loved, but just don't have the cash for right now.  You all know my addiction to journals and notebooks, right?  There was an artisan who made embossed leather, hand sewn journals.  The books were amazing!  I would actually be afraid to write in one of them tho, for fear of ruining such a beautiful book.

We had a really funny moment... I was standing at a gourmet bakery table, trying to decide which breads I wanted to buy (ended up with foccacia, german rye, and cheesy garlic bread) when Dr. U came up to say hello.  I felt so guilty, lol, being caught buying carbs!  (All the yummy bread is in the freezer now for when this wretched GD goes away.)

We also had a sad moment.  There is a local company that makes slings that I have heard really good things about.  I was in contact with the owner about a month ago, asking about plus sizes, and we sent a few emails back and forth.  She told me she was pregnant, expecting her third, but that she was struggling and may end up on bed rest.  I had told her our history, and told her that I would be praying and hoping all would be well.  When we got to the Bab.yro.o booth today, she was there.  I introduced myself, and she teared up.  She told me that she had just lost her little Sophia two weeks ago.  She shared a sketch that she had drawn of her daughter.  It was beautiful and so sad.  I'm very sorry to say that there is yet another new member of this awful club.  She was really struggling to hold it together and sell her products.  I did end up getting my sling, but mostly I just spent my few minutes with her, listening. 

There were so many incredibly talented artisans there.  And soooo much dangerous food to sample.  I'm proud to say that my blood sugars have been in line all day.  I even managed to stay away from the samples of english pudding with butter rum sauce. 

The only challenge of the day came after we had lunch.  My right hip didn't like how I had been sitting while we ate, and I ended up limping along for the last hour or so.  But I still had a blast.  And then we came home and I took a long nap.  :)

Tomorrow is another busy day.  We're heading to my MIL's after church... the dresser and change table are painted and we are going to pick one of them up and get it home.  And then there's a football game to watch... those Roughriders had better win tomorrow.  They've lost the last three in a row.

The Hobbit In Hiding

Good afternoon Humble Readers...

I'm here.

Not fallen off the end of the world, not the latest victim of H1N1 or a balrog, not gone on a life-threatening quest to destroy the source of all evil.

I have been hiding in my hobbit hole, eating, reading, watching garbage tv, and, oh yeah, going to work. Days have gone by without much to mark them except a dull feeling of sadness.

We talk about hope a lot in the ALI community. To hope or not to hope. Hope that by this time next year I'll be a mom. Hope that this will be the last month I spend a small fortune on hpts. Choosing not to hope because the let down at the end of each unsuccessful cycle will possibly be less (yeah right).

I don't know why, and really I don't want to think about it too much, but my last cycle was funky. The only times I have ever been 3 days late was when I was pregnant. Maybe it was the travel, maybe it was the exercise I got when we were on vacation, maybe it was just one of those things. It doesn't really matter.

What matters is that I need to move forward. To be able to look at this cycle with the same hope I had for the last one. I feel almost like I did after our second loss. The sight of a pregnant belly the other day made me teary. That feeling that this is NEVER GONNA HAPPEN is just a bit too big to look past like I normally do.

By nature, I think I am a pretty optimistic person. I'm too naive sometimes, too trusting, but I would rather see the good in people than the bad. I would rather hope than not. I expect the best, and usually I can handle it when the world doesn't quite live up to my hopes. It's just taking me a little longer this month to get back to that hopeful place.

I don't know what is bothering me more... the fact that my hopes were dashed for another month or that I can't quite grab hold of that hope that has been my life preserver through these last two years.