The blog about nothing

I find myself saying, "Self, you should blog again." So I log on to my blog, click on "create new post" and then find myself saying, "Ok, now what are you going to write about?" I ponder the recent events in my life that might merit a blog entry and consider other blogger's talented writing (cha-chem, Rachel Ford)...Well, I could write about how our tools were stolen AGAIN Sunday night as well as the brand spankin' new table saw (don't quote me on that exact tool, but I know it was something of great value). You know, that could be a bit depressing, writing about my friends walking around The Land with long faces all day wondering to themselves, "How many times are people going to break into our locked garage and steal our tools?" Or I could write about how our hot water heater broke last week and Marc and I have been thoroughly enjoying the comforts of heating large pots of water on our wood stove for bucket baths, rinsing each other off with tin-cup-fulls of water. Perhaps God is trying to teach us contentment. Or I could write about how our water source got plugged up three times last week and how Marc so cheerfully donned his rainboots and raincoat and ventured up the swollen creek to fix the water line (one time at dusk-what a man!). Or I could write about hearing our baby's heartbeat for the first time yesterday, exciting, but a little bit anti-climactic after driving an hour and a half both ways just to hear thump-thump. Don't get me wrong, it almost brought me to tears hearing my little munchkin's heart beating in my belly, if it only hadn't taken the Doctor so long to find the heartbeat, and then only hearing it for about 10 seconds. I probably would have cried a tear or two if given 10 more seconds of that blessed thumping. But, in reality, I feel that the life I lead is rather boring right now. So, that's why I'm having a hard time deciding what to write about. I guess this is a natural progression into a new chapter in life; I'm becoming a mother. Someone else depends on me to put my needs after their's... I can't just go on the 3-day hike with my friend Laura when she comes home from Montana this month, even though that is (or WAS) my favorite Spring-Summer activity. I can't go skiing with Marc next month when we go to Reno. I fell asleep reading last night at 8:45. And, for some unknown reason, I can't get my gassy, bloated self out of bed before 9:00AM. I know, I know, my body is doing the equivelancy of climbing a mountain every day. But all these minute details make me feel just plain boring these days! I mean, how many times can Marc listen to me complain that my insides feel like the Goodyear Blimp before he tries to pop me with a pin? It's not all that bad, I get used to my "boring" life and I actually enjoy wearing sweatpants to work every day. And it's not every pregnant woman that gets to walk home from the office when she's craving Mac 'N' Cheese. I really do have it pretty good.