Having already endured an extremely trying pregnancy as Mommy’s dopey sidekick (9 weeks of bed rest, 5 of them in the hospital), I’ve got to admit that I’ve been surprised at how hard this pregnancy has proven to be. Not only has it caught me off guard, but it’s also caught Caroline off guard. Neither one of us are sure why it’s surprised us, though. After all, at age 41, neither one of us are exactly spring chickens anymore. And our four kids pretty much stomp out any youthfulness that remains on an hourly basis.
But I’ve often found that I learn the most during times of great difficulty. So I’ve vowed to learn all I can about my wife’s pregnancy this go round so I can help make it as smooth as possible. Earlier today, I’ve shared five things I’ve already learned. Now it’s time to cash in on two of them.
If you read my post from earlier today, you’ll know that my wife’s current ice cream obsession borders on violent. She remains in a constant and fearful state of what’s best described as ice cream anxiety whereby my lovely is virtually certain of its absence. So what better way to placate this fear other than to make the damn stuff myself?
In so doing, surely I’ll gain some brownie points. Don’t those sound good, by the way? All pipin’ hot next to slowly melting snow cream?. And when she finds out I consulted her girl, Paula Deen? I smell an HOYA. (Husband of the Year award.) Only one problem. We’re like the only place in the world where it’s not supposed to snow. Which is too bad, such is Caroline’s current ice cream craving.
But, in case you’re craving ice cream and happen to be sitting beneath a blanket of snow, scream for your husband real quick. Tell him Pauala’s got a little chore for him. That’ll require gloves. And pants. According to her, this is what he needs to do:
8 cups snow
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Place snow or shaved ice into a large bowl. Pour condensed milk over and add vanilla. Mix to combine. Serve immediately in bowls. Boom. Done.
Well, I’m glad that worked for y’all, but remember, all we’re getting down here in beautiful Knoxville, TN is a bunch of rain. So I won’t be able to cheer up my beautiful wife with homemade snow ice cream. But, I have learned another thing about her pregnancy — namely that I should never impose a time limit upon her when she’s shopping for maternity clothes. Sadly, I did just that this weekend while we were down in Atlanta.
In my defense, I didn’t say a word until midway through the third hour. And I never asked her to stop. I merely asked her if the time she had left was the equivalent to, say, a sitcom or a full-lenght motion picture.
I know. I’m an idiot. But I’m idiot with a good heart. Today I called the store she left “abruptly,” and asked about a certain pair of jeans and a top she had tried on but didn’t buy. She was worried they were too much, but I didn’t think they were. I was sad when I realized she purchased them.
So I bought them. And what’s more, the nice woman is sending them overnight for free, thus enabling me to provide my wife with a random act of kindness. No. It’s not a bowl of ice cream.
But it’s still pretty sweet. Don’t you think?
Is your husband hooking you up with any random acts of kindness during your pregnancy?