Things I haven't Yet Learned

You would think that I would have learned from my first pregnancy that bikini waxing is just not smart in the seventh month of pregnancy. Yes, tis true I cannot see a thing past my belly, but damn, that woman with the wax is just mean. Or so it seems to me. Vanity is not worth it at this point; I don't care if everyone sees hair coming out of my bathing suit at the gym. I can't see it, so screw it. In other Tagami news (nor non-news), there is a lot of racket going on downstairs (and yet, the boy sleeps through it), because our ancient (read, original from this circa 1966 house) heater is FINALLY busting out (by force) to make way for a new one. Kane and I have been living without heat now for five days, which isn't so bad, since we've been using the space heater at night, but it's a bitch to find a good reason to get up in the morning and answer the squawk of my son in the 7 a.m. chill of the Oakland Hills. And now, my one last reason for snuggling underneath the covers is being taken away. On the flip side, our duct work is getting cleaned for perhaps the first time since 1967 (I hope - I better check with the crew downstairs), so we can rule out Legionnaire's Disease among our list of potential ickies. Yeah, "whatever" is right. What a weird little obscure disease my father has to deal with. That, and the form of cancer I can never remember associated with asbestos exposure. Which would be exposure that I had working for the man. But that's another story, and frankly, I feel fine, so it's not even a story. Oh, and Phil is coming home today (yay) from a business trip in Hawaii, where he was trying to square away his uncle's estate (no, he's not dead; just a good preparer). I really think Kane was missing him - either that, or he's going through a weird separation phase, because he wouldn't calm down last night and sleep (he woke up after 20 minutes of being put down and was wailing in a delirious state) until he climbed on top of me and nuzzled his head against my shoulder while we watched the Simpsons and he nodded off. He ended up in bed with me last night, which I'm sure books and psychologists and whoever else will tell me is bad for the baby, but he slept better last night than he has in the past week, and frankly, that meant Mommy did, too. Which meant I put away the application I was filling out to sell him to the gypsies. On to ask the crew if they're cleaning the duct work. I'd try to impress them with my HVAC background, but I'm embarrassed to say I've forgotten a lot of the jargon. And I never got anything about the home units - I just dealt with the big-arsed commercial beasts that needed curbs on rooftops. There - that's what I remember of being a journeyman. You impressed?