It has been an, "Oh, Baby!" sort of month around here so far. Lisa, travel companion extraordinaire on the trip to Poland in May, 2008, gave birth to her first child. (Another couple who were among the five short-term members of that team welcomed their first child as well. Forget fertility treatments. Go pray for Poland.) Lisa and husband John's daughter is quite possibly one of the most prayed for little girls ever born. Over the weekend, another friend had her fourth daughter. The first three are wonderful, and one can only imagine this latest little one will be equally so.
All this to say, tomorrow night is barbecue chicken night around here. Yummy for us. There will also be enough to provide John and Lisa with a meal or two, and John with leftovers for his lunch Thursday. The same offer of a meal delivery has been extended to the second set of parents reaping the rewards of a pregnancy well-spent. The kitchen, and quite possibly the whole house, is going to smell like a barbecue restaurant. The fridge already looks like one with all the goodies marinating on the bottom shelf.
I? Am hoping to enjoy the dinner, too. At least part of it. Final results from yesterday's ultrasound are due today, but based on not ending up in the E.R. over the weekend (Thanks to the super yucky liquid + rice + applesauce diet of the past weekend and fasting Monday until 2:00 p.m.), my M.D. seems to think this could be the second self-resolving gall bladder attack. Not in the mood for abdominal surgery, at the moment there is willingness to acquiesce to the less stringent dietary restrictions in place.
Teensy Confession: Okay, someone might have inhaled a Three Musketeers yesterday that is definitely not on the list of okay foods, but it was likely a one time thing following the general lack of calories over the three days preceding. Rationalization is sometimes an art form.