But, this paper dress doesn't match my shoes

I had my 4 week post-partum check up today and while sitting in the waiting room I had the strangest feeling. I. Missed. Being. Pregnant. Thank God I got the prescription for birth control because who knows where my brain is at. How could I, the woman who was basically pregnant for two years possibly miss it?

So anyway, what is up with those damn paper dresses they make you wear? There I was sitting naked, wrapped in pink paper (pink!), with breastmilk dripping all over the place. Why can't they let you keep your bra on, at least until the doctor comes in? And why did they have the AC blasting? Didn't they know that I was freezing my ass off? What with being soaked with the mommy juice dripping all over the lovely paper garment, thus rendering it useless, not that it was doing such a hot job keeping me covered anyway.

I know that my doctor has seen worse come out of me than breastmilk. But, it's a little degrading sitting there trying to hold a conversation with someone when all you can think about is the liquid gold* being wasted on the linoleum floor. And I know she was having a hard time maintaining eye contact. I so would have too.

By the end of the visit, the front of my party dress was pretty much disintegrated. Oh well, so much for drinks and dancing.


*we call it liquid gold here at Casa De Austin. Why? I can't remember, but it's a funny story.

I can see clearly now (soon)

I'm going to get contacts today. My poor, poor glasses have finally given up the valiant fight after months of battle with a toddler.

It all started in Hawaii. While lounging in a comfy hammock, my glasses were assaulted by ten month old grubby hands. They didn't fair well. In fact, the nose piece and eye piece were separated briefly in combat. Fortunately, my sister is handy with super glue and they were reunited. Unfortunately, the super glue trick was a trade I had to learn since the war waged on after vacation and away from my gluestick wielding sister. I'm not as handy as she is, as evidenced below:



Yes, dear internet, I have been walking around with a glob of super glue in front of my right eye for months now. Months! Talk about trashy, white trash. I have no excuse. But see, I hate to spend money on myself. If it were one of my kids, or my hubs, or even my freakin' dog that needed new glasses or contacts, I would put myself into debt. But for myself, nothing. How else can I play the martyr?

S finally got sick of hearing me bitch (well that and the super glue ran out). He has ordered me to march myself to the doctor, get my prescription, and order some lovely contacts. It's been about six years since I've owned a pair of contacts. Let's hope I remember how to stick my fingers in my eyes.

Fathers and Mothers

So, today is Father's Day. And I did what I do every Father's day: I call my mother and tell her "happy father's day, mom."

Yeah, you read that right. My dad hasn't gotten a "happy father's day" out of me since I was about six. That was the year he left my mother, two sisters and me because he never wanted kids in the first place. He missed being single. Yes, you can call him an asshat. I have, and still do on occasion.

My mother raised us girls being both roles, which isn't so unheard of in this day and age. Divorce is a common thing, though I don't think it should be, but really does anyone? Anyway, I think she did a rockin' job. My step-dad helped her through the terrible teen years, marrying her just in time for my thirteenth birthday. God bless him.

My father's role in my life was minimal. He would see us maybe two weeks out of the year, during which time he would throw cash and presents at us as a way to compensate for his guilt. At least, that's what I like to think. Today we have a somewhat easy-going relationship with each other. I call him if the car breaks down and S doesn't have time (or we don't have the money) to fix it. He's the one to call when you need the dough. Unfortunate, but I don't think he sees it that way. Money to him is all-important. But, that's a whole different post.

He's really trying to be a good grandpa. Which freaks me out. It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to up and leave, saying he never wanted grandkids anyway. I doubt that will happen, but the little bitch in my head says otherwise. Isn't family fun?

So, Happy Father's day, mom. Thank you for all you've done for me.

Why I'm going to suck at helping with homework

me: ok, the web address is http, um colon, um backslash-backslash...

S: that's forwardslash.

me: no, it's not.

S: yes, it is. walks over to computer to point out how the slashes are slanting forward.

me: WHATEVER! I can call them whatever I want. Same difference.

S: ...

me: what?

S: calling them whatever you want makes you sound retarded.

me: oh yeah? Well, you are retarded.

S: ...

me: so there.

Stuff portrait friday

Okay, first we have the "what was I thinking" photo. This one is kinda boring. This couch once belonged to my great-grandfather. It used to be pink (think early fifties pink). My mother re-upholstered it to the lovely shade of green it is now (think early seventies green). My father hated to part with this precious gem and asked me if I would take it. You know, to keep it in the family. My only defense is that I was eight months pregnant and it was early in the morning when he asked...


The next photo is of the "something I feel obligated to display" category. There are so many items to chose from in my house. Most of them are my deceased mother-in-laws, so I guess those don't really count as my crosses to bear. Here is a picture of the drawing my little sister drew me about four years ago. She told me I had to hang it somewhere everyone would see and I did. It's in my kitchen. I guess I could take it down since she's 13 now and doesn't care if I have it up or not. Oh, and she lives in Idaho, so it's not like she would know if I had it up or not either...


Finally, "something I have that I'm pretty sure no one else has." This poster (in a frame! So high-class!) came from my husband. He found it in an abandoned apartment back when he managed apartments, way before he met me. It's kinda trippy and he's pretty sure the original owners were heavily into the drugs. Staring long enough at it, you can totally see what he means...

This is entertaining

So, I intalled a stat counter because I'm cool, just like all of you. Well, that and I was super curious to see how some found my blog through searches.

It seems to most popular is I hate my mother-in-law or some other form of that exact sentiment. But, did you know someone stumbled upon me by searching for tingling sensation in the nipple or, my personal favorite, kill piss ant.

I'm so having fun with this.

**oh yeah. Thanks for liking my blogs new clothes. I found the template at Miz Graphics and then changed it up a bit. I'll try to stick with this one for a while, though it's totally addicting.

No news is good news...right?

She hasn't returned my email or even called. This doesn't really surprise me since she is Mrs. Passive-Aggressive 2005. But, I'm itching for battle and the ball is in her court. If I strike again, I'll just look mean and evil.*

I'm sure she's telling anyone who will listen though what she thinks about me now. That's fine, bacause those people will tell me. It's a vicious circle, reminiscent of junior high. Remember those days? Yeah, I thought I was past them too.

The kids are doing well. We bought Lexie a new swimsuit for the summer, and I must say it's quite adorable.


Emmie is growing like a weed.


I'm really enjoying the infant stage this time around. With Lexie I was a giant stress ball, always worrying about if she was eating enough, peeing and pooping enough, sleeping enough, etc, etc. That is something good about having them so close together, you haven't forgotten everything you went through with the first. It's all still fresh in your mind. Linda said it best: you're still in baby-mode. That makes is a little more tolerable. Well, that and the fact that my kids are the cutest damn things ever reproduced.

*at least that's how the rules are in this crazy family I married into.

What is totally warping my mind

is the fact that someone under three feet tall can manage to lose not one, but three remotes. All to three different televisions.

I'm totally blaming S for this one. I know I would never let Lexie play with the remotes. Now the phone, well that's another subject all together.

This means war

Okay, more mother-in-law drama in...

5

4

3

2

1

Omgod, I cannot, no really cannot, stand this shedevil any longer. She has pulled the last straw. I guess she's now angry with me and talking smack about me to anyone who will listen because I a) haven't returned her phone call (because like, duh, I just had a baby) and b) I haven't called her for help. And she knows I need help because, and I quote, "no one can raise two kids that young by themselves."

What. The. Fuck.

She has also turned my father-in-law against my husband, his son. Oh yeah. He is now telling anyone who will listen (and thankfully, they do and report to me) that S is smoking pot (not true) and skipping out on work (true, but because he threw his back out and is staying home under doctor's orders). I don't get this family. Not at all. They are all crazy. Seriously.

I have really opened a can of worms though because I, gasp, confronted MIL in an angry, yet eloquently written email. That's pretty much declaring war in her book. Well, bring it on beeatch. I am so ready.

A little about me

I wasn't tagged but this looked like fun...

10 years ago, I....
1. was a finishing up my junior year in high school
2. worked as a manager at the local McDonald's
3. dreamed of running away from my small town

5 years ago, I....
1. had just started dating my husband.
2. worked as a receptionist at a veterinary hospital
3. dreamed of running back to my small town

Today I ....
1. took a shower
2. tried to fix our printer
3. scrubbed one toilet (one down, one to go)

Tomorrow, I will....
1. be on my own with both kids (my mom leaves tonight...sniff, sniff)
2. think about cleaning the house
3. probably watch a lot of bad TV

3 Snacks I Enjoy:
1. anything chocolate
2. nachos
3. cheese and crackers

5 Songs I know all the words to, even with out the Music:
1. Ice, Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice
2. The Humpty Dance by (is it?) Digital Underground
3. Baby's Got Back by Sir Mix Alot
4. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
5. any song by the Beatles

Things I would do with $100,000,000:
1. buy a house
2. buy another car
3. pay off all debts

5 Locations I'd run away to:
1. Hawaii
2. Ireland
3. Australia
4. Fuji
5. Idaho (only because my mom is there)

5 Bad habits I have:
1. I swear like a sailor
2. I procrastinate
3. I worry way too much
4. I bite my nails
5. I burp...and don't say excuse me

5 Things I like Doing:
1. sleeping
2. reading
3. hanging with my kids
4. camping (as long as there is a real bathroom nearby)
5. riding amusement park rides

5 Things I would Never Wear:
1. capri pants (my legs are too short)
2. two piece bathing suit
3. halter top
4. hot pants
5. moomoo

TV Shows I like:
1. Lost
2. Survivor
3. Amazing Race
4. The 4400

Movies I like:
1. Ocean's Eleven
2. Stand By Me
3. Gone With the Wind

5 famous people I would like to meet:
1. Jesus
2. John Lennon
3. Johnny Depp
4. Angelina Jolie
5. President Bush

5 Biggest Joys at the Moment:
1. Lexie
2. Emmie
3. the fact that they are both napping right now
4. my mom did my dishes
5. and she did my laundry

okay, I'm tagging Linda...YOU"RE IT.

Stuff Portrait Friday

This one's a fun one...


Something you have that you want more of :


Something you have that you want less of:




Something you have that you are completely satisfied with as is:

The Next Generation

I don't know what I find funnier in this picture: the totally uncomfortable smile on my grandpa's face or the attempt to placate Lexie by dangling keys above her head. Fun times at my grandparents house!

My grandparents aren't what you would call kid people. I think they were once upon a time, considering they had two girls, but it's been a while and they are rusty from lack of practice.

Enter Lexie.

Lexie is at that tender age of destruction all toddlers hit about this time. You know the age I'm talking about. If there is something breakable within reach, she will reach it and most likely break it. Seems the grandparents forgot this little detail about kids when they invited us over. It was amusing though watching them squirm and shoot the look to each other whenever they thought no one was watching. You know the look. It says, yeah she's cute but she's got her grubby hands all over our stuff and I hope those grubby handprints will come off with minimal scrubbing. Good times.

It thrills me to no end though that both sets of my grandparents are alive. It's a heartwarming sight seeing them hold my child, knowing that not all that long ago (try 27 years...no, not long ago at all) they were holding me and commenting on how small my ears were.

Stuff Protrait Friday

Got this idea from Linda (thanks)...so, here are some random pics from mi casa.

This is our "we're to cheap to buy a real computer desk" computer desk:


Here are a couple of pics of Lexie's room (which is still a work in progress):




And here are a couple of pics of Emmie's room (used to be Lexie's room and also a work in progress):




And, finally, a random shot of what our morning is like. Notice the look of concentration on Lexie's face:

Got this idea from Linda...so play along.

Copy the questions to your blog and fill them out.


1. Blogger that you most want to meet in person? The list is long and wonderful (pretty much every blog I read, I want to meet the person), but I would love to meet Linda. she's like my online bestest friend. And you know girl I will be knocking on your front door if I'm ever in your neck of the woods.

2. Blogger who makes you laugh the most? Dooce and The Sarcastic Journalist both have the ability to make me laugh long and loud.

3. Blogger whose template(skin) is the coolest? Taylor's new blog is awesome. I love the watermelons!

4. Blogger you can't wait to read a new entry from? Dooce is probably at the top of my list. But, I love when everyone has a new entry. So...blog on, blog on.


edite to add: I don't know why when I hyperlink it crosses it out. I'm sure it's a HTML code thingy, so I guess we have to deal with it.

So many blogs, so little time

I've added some wonderful ladies to my blogroll. Check them out. There is Leah, Taylor, Dawn, Melissa, and a few others*. All of them are worth the visit.

It now takes me about an hour and a half to read through my favorites in the mornings. Thank God for Lexie's 2 hour nap. I don't know what I'm going to do when Emmie is mobile and Lexie is no longer napping.



*if you want your blog removed from my blogroll, drop me an email. If you want to be added, I can do that too!

11 days old and already her first yeast infection

Ladies and Gents, my baby has Thrush. And she's passed it on to my nipples. Yeah, thanks kid. Mommy loves you too.

Thrush sucks.

Damn. That's all I can say. Well, that and Ouch. My poor nipples look like punching bags and the pain is something else. It all started yesterday, right about the time after I was bragging about how easy breastfeeding was going for me this time. See how Murphy's Law works here? No sooner had the words left me lips, I suddenly felt a tingling sensation in my right nipple (and not the good kind either). About two hours later and I was having to bite my tongue during Emily's latch on to keep from screaming bloody murder.

Thrush sucks.

So, now I get to smear goo all over Emmie's mouth and all over my nipples. They say I can feed through the pain, but who are "they" and why do they lie? My plan? Pump and feed with a bottle. Pumping hurts, but nothing like Emmie's jaw working.

Thrush sucks.

Luckily (yeah right, luck!), the doc says it's just started and should clear up soon. But, the pain. Oh the pain. Let's hope I survive.

Thush sucks.


by the way: Emmie's 10 day check up was good otherwise. She's up to 7lb 1oz, meaning she gained about a pound in one week (she had dropped from a birth weight of 6lb 13oz to 6lb 2oz on Monday, the 23rd). She definitely fits into this family with an appetite like that.

What is this little person?

Lexie is still trying to figure out what this little person we call Emily is.

For those of you who asked, they are 14 months apart and I'll have to get back to you on how having them that close together is.

Lex has taken to petting Emmie. It's quite cute, yet can become violent if you don't watch her (think Lenny in Of Mice and Men). She also likes to snuggle with me while I breastfeed, which is amazing in itself because this is the child who wouldn't snuggle for the first 13 months of her life. Suddenly, she's a lovebug. I totally dig it.

Life is pretty good here at Casa de Austin. A routine is emerging and a light is shining at the end of my tunnel. It's looking pretty good.

Tag! You're it.

I am participating in a fun game from Linda and here are the instructions:

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around and look for the coolest book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.

I had to go into my bedroom to find a book and the first one I saw was 1906 by James Dalessandro (it's a novel about the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco).
Here's the fifth sentence of page 123:
The overhead light cast a yellowish glow on the bald pate, dusty traces of dried salt glowing faintly on his thick eyebrows and mustache.

Since I have yet to read the book, I have no idea what this sentence means. I'll have to let you know. I'm thinking maybe earthquake stuff, you think?

Thanks Linda for tagging me. I'm forfeiting tagging, so it's open call. Have fun!

Some proof that as a mom, I ROCK

Today I went grocery shopping. With both kids. By myself.

Now before you go off shaking your head, wondering why I will tell you. S had to return to work today and my mom is scheduled to be here in about 4 hours. And we had no food in our house, unless Poptarts and Starbursts count as major food groups suddenly.

So, into the Snugglie went Emmie and into the cart went Lexie and off my rocker went me. Actually, it wasn't so bad. Emmie is in the lump stage of babyhood, so no worries there. And Lexie loves sitting in the shopping cart growling at people who look at her (S taught her that trick, so cute). The only trouble I had was when I dropped my debit card and it slid under the register. Agh! Fortunately, Grandma Moses happened along and somehow got her osteoporosis-self down to the floor to retrieve it for me. I kept waiting to hear bones crumble (I'd say crack, but I think she was well past that age). Thank God for nice elderly people.

So, our house has food and my mom won't think all I eat is Poptarts and Starbursts and everyone lived happily ever after!


edited to add: yes, I've changes my blog look again. I get bored with the same old, same old. If you think that's bad, you should see my house. I rearrange furniture at least twice a month.

like two peas in a pod

except for their noses, you'd think it was the same baby. Aren't they precious!

If you listen closely, you can hear my sanity blowing in the wind

Surefire way to make your sweet angel of a 14 month old go bad? Bring home equally sweet angel newborn. Guaranteed for a good time.

Wow is all I can say. Lexie is a mondo-brat and I'm not liking it. I find myself wanting to scream at her (like she does to me...Hey, it's only fair) and while I know that's not a good parenting thing, sometimes it seems like it would feel so good. I'm getting really good at counting to 10. Maybe I can find a career in that.

Emmie (still working on that as a nickname, what do you think?) is a dream. Breastfeeding is going well, which is a huge relief off my chest (pun intended, yuck, yuck, yuck). In case you're wondering, I failed at it miserably with Lexie, as mentioned here. I'm happy to say my back is holding on. I'm still not liking the breastfeeding and am waiting for that wonderful moment to happen. You know, the one all the mothers tell you they have. That moment of bonding and closeness.

Yeah um, all I feel right now is the urge to say "moo."

Birth Story (sleep deprivation issue)

Here's the low down on how Emily arrived...As you know I was hospitalized on tuesday. Man, what a drag. Well, friday came and I figured my blood pressure would still be good (even after walking), so I thought (and hoped) I would get to go home for at least a week before induction. The doctor came in and checked me after my walk down the hall and my blood pressure was 170/108...oops. She told me I was having the baby that day.

So, they started the pitocin at about 11:00am and I hung out on that for awhile. Doctor came in at 2pm and checked my cervix and I was 4cm! Woohoo. She broke my water and I nicely asked (begged) for my epidural. It took the doc 3 tries to get that damn thing in. He missed big time and I still have a little pain in my back from that one.

Anyway, epidural kicked in but then around 5:30 it wore off and I was dying. Not to mention the fact that they had 2 emergency c-sections so I had to wait almost an hour for the epidural man. By then I was puking I was in so much pain. He gave me a dozey of a dose and I was numb all the way up to my armpits...very weird.

Around 7pm, I told the nurse I had to push and yup I was 10cm but I had to wait almost another hour for the doctor to make her way to the hospital (traffic and an accident held her up). That totally sucked...it is so hard not to push when your body wants too.

Finally, the doc comes in and three pushes later Emily Lynne was born. I tore a tiny bit and required 1 stitch, but everything else went so well they let me come home yesterday!

Sorry, if this rambles or doesn't make sense in parts. I am suffering from a bit of sleep deprivation. I'll be back soon I hope. Getting used to having two little ones is harder than I thought. I'm dreading my hubby going back to work and my mom going home...agh!

Introducing Emily Lynne

isn't she lovely?

We certainly think so.

Here she is folks. Born May 20th at 7:54pm. Weighing in at 6lbs 13oz and measuring 20 inches long, she is about the same size Lexie was, which is impressive since Emmie is considered pre-term.

I'll post the birth story in all it's (guts and) glory in a few days. Just know we are home and happy!

Stolen moments

Okay, shhhhh I'm not supposed to be using a laptop here in the hospital, but my dad snuck his in so I could get my internet fix.

Here's the lowdown. While laying (lying...hmmm) down, my blood pressure is PERFECT. I mean perfect like 110/60. WTF? My doctor didn't believe the nurse and insisted on coming in to see for herself. Quite funny. So, the plan is to have me rest up in Chateau Antepartum Ward. We'll do some more bloodwork and blood pressure checks after I walk around a bit tomorrow night. Then, friday we re-evaluate the situation. I still want to induce next week (when I hit 37 weeks), mostly because I'm freaking out being away from Lexie (oh, and S) for so long. I hate depending on others for help and this is simply killing me. Thank god for my step-mom and friend Linda. They have both met the challenge of taking care of Lexie while S is at work.

Okay, enough from me. If the nurse catches me with this electronic device after I just begged and she still said no, I don't know what will happen.

Next time you hear from me...

I'll be a new mom, again!

I'm being admitted to the hospital tonight for the remainder of this pregnancy. Good news: baby isn't breech anymore! Bad news: my blood pressure is holding steady at 180/108.

I'll miss everyone and will be going crazy without internet. See you in a few weeks.

The Casserole Party

It was a blast. In total, we received 12 casseroles all frozen and ready for consumption once Monkey makes her debut. It is a great party idea, especially for second-time moms. I figured I just had a baby last year, there isn't much I need, but food is always welcome. Now, my cooking after the bambina comes will be cut in half. Yay, for the casserole!

It was also nice yesterday because I got a mini-break from Lexie. Lord, I love that child with all my being, but sometimes a momma needs a vacation. S was kind enough to take the day off of work and watch her. He even got up with her in the morning so I could sleep in. Bliss.

A perk at the party was Alana. She's one of my step-mom's closest friends. She also happens to be a retired L&D nurse and is married to a high-risk pregnancy doctor (his official title has escaped my pregnancy-scattered brain). I got to chat with her at length about my fears of breech births, versions, c-sections, you name it - we covered it. She agrees with my hopes of scheduling a version then induction immediately after. I guess that's standard procedure for her hubby. I feel more confident now in my choice and have a feeling Dr. Not So Nice will agree with me.

So, that sums up my Saturday. Hope all of you are enjoying this fine weekend!

I think she's hanging onto my ribs

So, yeah, she's still breech. I think she is trying to crawl (swim?) into my ribcage. It's an intensely uncomfortable feeling. Blood pressure still somewhat high. But, we have a tentative plan...

I go back in Tuesday for another two second ultrasound to see if Monkey is still breech (we're laying odds on it being so). Then we have the "discussion" with Dr. Not So Nice about versions and inductions. What I want to have happen is this: schedule version for about 37.5 weeks, then if successful induce right then and there. No worries about fetal distress and I get to have my mom there for the birth. The Nurse Practioner I saw yesterday said that's the way she would go, but of course I have to talk it over with a doctor. And, of course, Dr. Not So Nice is the only doctor open all next week for appointments. Ugh.

So, that's what is going on in pregnancy land here at Casa de Austin. Stay tuned for baby shower news tomorrow evening. This should be fun. My step-mom is throwing me a casserole party (where everyone brings a freezable casserole instead of a baby gift) and I insisted she NOT invite my mother-in-law*. Now, all should go well as long as MIL doesn't get wind of it.



*for those of you new to my story, here is an example as to why my MIL is not invited.

Yeah, this isn't going work out for the best

New pregnancy symptom: eating anything not nailed down as fast as one can shove said anything down one's throat. Then, complain loudly for approximately two hours. Rinse, repeat.

I don't know where the food is going. I don't even think I notice what I'm eating. Well, yes this morning I did notice that I had Fritos and Toast with a tall glass of Dr. Pepper (the yummy vanilla-cherry kind..mmm). And I am noticing now that I'm having animal crackers (shared with Lexie of course) alongside a Jimmy Dean breakfast sausage sandwich for my mid-morning snack. I shudder to wonder what lunch will bring.

It's like I can't stop. It's like I'm making up for the lack of appetite I've had up until now. Seriously, two weeks ago you'd be lucky to get two full portioned meals into me. Now, you're lucky not to lose a finger in the process.

My little dolly, er....girl

her first ponytail. No, we don't let her drink Dr. Pepper so don't ask.

34 week check up

Well, the baby is breech. Her head is tucked rather comfortably (for her, not me) under my ribcage. Dr. Kinda Nice (there are three doctors at the practice: Dr. Nice, Kinda Nice, and Not So Nice). wants me back next week to check her position and if she's still head up, we will schedule a version for the following week. Fun! Actually, I'm a little frightened and am blaming the Discovery Channel and all their terrifying birth shows where versions go bad.

Also, my blood pressure is going up. Modified bed rest has been order. Yeah, try that with a toddler. This should be interesting. I'm kinda hoping to just schedule an induction date. That way my mom can be here for the birthing of the baby. 'Cause you know, like Prissy in Gone With the Wind, she knows all abouts birthing babies. Yes ma'am. Hee hee.

Ugh

Yes, folks. I am a grumpy pregnant woman. Watch out. Here are a few of the things making want to SCREAM today.

• My guinea pig, Pippin, is whistling for food. Yet, he has food. He thinks he can fool me by covering up his dish with bedding and then act like he's starving. Ugh.
• The punks with LOUD bass lines thumping in their cars. Um, I thought they were lame in high school and my opinion hasn't changed since. Especially since their crap music is making my windows rattle. Ugh.
• Lexie keeps trying to eat dirt in the backyard. Ugh.
• Husbands who can't seem to throw empty milk cartons away. Leaving them on the counter next to the garbage does not count. Ugh.
• I've had the same Wiggle's song stuck in my head for about a week now. Fruit salad, yummy yummy, my ass. Ugh.
• The same husband thinking it counts when he throws his dirty socks in front of the hamper. Hey, it so doesn't. Ugh.

Okay, I'm going to go take a nap now.

Now, where could I get this cashed?

Interesting read this morning on yahoo news.

Tell me something I don't already know. Though, it does feel good knowing that the media is acknowledging how much work staying at home with kids really is.

Adventures in Labor and Delivery Ward Part II

Yup, was there again last night for 3 hours trying to figure out what the extreme upper abdominal pain I was having last night. They think my large intestine is being "squished" (actual techie term, I guess, because my doc used it) between my ribs and my uterus. Meaning, this baby is bigger than Lexie was. Great, just great. They were afraid it was the sign of HELLP. I'm so glad it isn't.

Baby sounds good, she was kicking the monitor almost the entire time we were there. The nurse got mad at me because after 2 hours I disconnected myself from the machines. I mean, come on, I wasn't there for a NST and all we were doing was waiting for my urine test to come back (oh yeah, I have an UTI...FUN!). Why do I need to be on those monitors and forced to lay in some wacko position? I didn't. The nurse disagreed. We had words. I won. S says he so hopes she isn't on when I come back for labor. That would be my luck though.

I'm tired of this. Tired of the pain, tired of the peeing (though after the anti-biotics kick in that should return to somewhat "normal"). Only 7 more weeks. I can do it. Yes, I can.

Maybe I'm amazed at the way I need you

S had just put his sunglasses on and Lexie is amazed. Look! A new daddy.

T-minus 55 days and counting (edited to add my thoughts on lunchmeat)

32 week check up today. Everything is as it should be. Blood pressure 124/82 and I've lost the 3 lbs. I had gained two weeks ago. Hmmm, don't know how that happened. All I've been shoving into my face is lunch meat ans Starbursts (just finished off about 20 of those suckers just now).

Have I mentioned yet how tired of being pregnant I am? I figured out that at the end of all this in a span of 24 months. I will have been pregnant for 18. Yuck.

As I told S, after this one my uterus is on strike!

Edited to add: Anonymous poster brought up some concerns about consuming lunchmeats while pregnant. There is a risk of lunchmeats carrying the bacteria listeria (click here for interesting article). I'm assuming that Oscar Meyer lunchmeat is safe.

Here's the thing about our house

Some of you have wondered why we don't just move? Some of you have even said you would move if in this house. Well, here's the thing. Rent here is freaking CHEAP.

See, S's boss owns this house and likes to rent it dirt cheap to his employees. For that we will stay. Just to throw some numbers out at you...We were living in a 850 sq. ft. Townhouse for about $1200 a month. That's considered reasonable for the area we live in (I know, I think 'reasonable' my ass too). That townhouse had two bedrooms, 1.5 baths, and a kitchen only one person could be in at once. FUN! The house we are in now is about 1600 sq. ft., three bedrooms plus den/office, 2 baths, and a kitchen the whole family could do a jig in, if the need should ever arise. And, we're paying about $1000 per month. The house three doors down (hmmm, speaking of three doors down, whatever happened to that band?) has the same floor plan and I know they are paying about $3500 per month in rent. Yeouch!

So, for now I'm willing (somewhat) to put up with all night porch lights and driveway blocking. We've been here a year and hopefully won't be here longer than another year. The goal now is to move to Idaho, where houses are cheap and the land is pretty (why do I feel the urge to belt out a Guns-n-Roses song all of a sudden?). Plus, my mom lives up there and ever since I became a mom, I've missed her most terribly.

Thank you for your concern though. And to Jaynee: thanks for the great idea of parking in their driveway. I told S, and he is salivating over the thought.

How I start my day

Hmm, maybe I need to lay off the Diet Coke?

Won't you be my neighbor

I'm sick of the street we live on. Not only are the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit...think subway) tracks directly across the street to our left, not only is it a busy road where the speed limit is clearly marked 35 yet most losers drive 50, but my neighbors across the street and to our right suck. A lot.

Let's start with the blonde "I'm better than you" bitch across the street. Every morning she stand outside, cigarette dangling from her lips, watering her lawn. All the while glaring at our lawn like it is a personal insult to her just because most of it is made up of weeds. Hey, at least they're green weeds. She then proceeds to bitch loudly about the fact that I don't have my dog on a leash. Never mind that Kaya (the dog in question) is too chicken shit to leave our front lawn. I think she's pissed because I let our dog piss and pooh all over our own lawn. GASP.

The icing on the cake with this neighbor is her porch light. The porch light she turns on at 11:30pm every night, right before she goes to bed. Yeah, so her freakin' porch light shines into my bedroom window all night long. And it's situated in such a spot that it shines right through the hole in the blinds we have up, right onto my face. Son of a bitch.

Now, onto the neighbors next door. They are a lovely family, with very cute kids. Kids that like to scream outside every morning at 6am. But, that's not why they upset me. No, it's the fact that they have like 7 cars and not one of them is parked in their empty garage or empty driveway. No. Almost nightly one of their cars is blocking our driveway, so that I have to go ask them to move it before S gets home for work. Sometimes, S has to ask them to move in the mornings so he can get to work. This has been going on for almost a year. We thought at first it was a language barrier or something. But, I know they speak English. I think they're just dumb. They also have one truck that has an alarm installed that is so sensitive to sound, it goes off every time a motorcycle drives by.

Here's a kicker. They repaved their driveway two weeks ago, and still won't walk on it. It's kind of comical to watch actually. They tiptoe around the edges, teetering side-to-side like they are crossing some narrow bridge 10 miles up. It would tickle me more, but then I think about the cars that should be parked there and I get all mad again.

So, there you have it. My wonderful neighbors. I'm just glad we are renting right now and are not stuck owning this house.

Adventures in Labor and Delivery Ward

Yup, I got to spend 3 glorious hours at L&D yesterday. Why? Because I'm a nutjob.

No, what really happened was I noticed at about 11am that I hadn't felt Baby Monkey move all morning. What a way to get the panic rolling. And rolling it went. I was so hyped up on being freaked out I couldn't hold still long enough to do an hour of kick counts. Maybe 3 minutes would go by, I wouldn't feel anything and then I would start bawling. Have I told you all how melodramatic I am yet? Yeah.

So, I put a call into my doc's office. Dr. Kinda Nice (there is Dr's. Nice, Kinda Nice, and Rarely Nice) called me back and suggested I head over to L&D for a NST (non-stress test). Let the absolute FREAKING out begin.

I called S's work and, of course, he's out on delivery and "forgot" the radio/phone (he does this so they don't bug him...loser). I'm crying and tell them to tell him to meet me at L&D. That'll get him moving. I called my bestest, most wonderfulest friend L to drive me over. I tell her S will meet us there.

Yeah, he totally beat us. Which isn't good, considering her was 30 minutes from the hospital and we were 10. Hmmm, can we say speed?

They immediately hooked me up to the Doppler thingy (techie terms comin' at ya) and after a few heart-stopping seconds, found Monkey's heartbeat. Nice and Strong. Few. Then came the boring 3 hours of non-stress testing. It took so long because they kept losing her on the monitor. I finally found her and kept my hand on the damn thing so I could get out of there.

All in all, I felt pretty silly. But, sometimes you need that reassurance that everything is fine. S congratulated me on making it to 30 weeks before flipping out. With Lexie I freaked about every 2 weeks, wailing and crying that I knew she was gone. Oy.

Wow, she's, like, deep and stuff

Oh Britney, Britney, Britney. What, in all that is holy, does this mean? Does this mean you aren't with child? And so you are poo-pooing on the tabloids for announcing that you are? Do you really think Us Weekly gives a crap about you, as a person. Honey, to them you are a paycheck, a means to an end. *sigh*

And why, why, why do I waste my time going to her site? I can only relate it to driving past an accident on the highway. You know if you see blood and guts that you will be sick, but you can't look away for fear of missing any of it.

It is good to know that she digs People magazine, at least.

She's got a ticket to ride

This is Kaya, Wonderpup, scared of everything (including the camera). She is my first "child" or Practice Kid as my mom called her. Don't let her size fool you, she can put the food away.

She wasn't too sure about Lexie until recently. That's when it dawned on her that Lexie=meal ticket. Oh yeah, you could almost see her little chihuahua brain working out the benefits of having the kid around. The absolute joy on her face when Lexie is placed into her highchair is almost comical. Wait, scratch that, it's pretty damn funny. She does this dance on her hind legs, front paws up in the air, while making this whine of delight that just kills me every time. The only unfortunate of this is that Lexie has learned to throw food directly at Kaya and takes a certain joy from it. Not that Lexie is hurting from lack of food or anything, have you seen her belly?

Another good point of having Kaya around is not having to vacuum as much. Lexie likes to eat cheerios off of the coffee table in the mornings. She also likes to throw them all over the living room. But, there is the trusty Kaya, following her around like Nature's own Hoover. God bless her.

Now I can wear short shorts (weather update at bottom)

So I bought some Nair and let S have his ways with my bushes...er, I mean legs. I think he enjoyed it too much, I kept having to yell, "don't rub it in. You aren't supposed to rub it in!" And, damn if the crap worked. My legs are smooth and irritation free, well the areas I can reach are anyway. Kudos to Nair for finally getting that awful Nair-smell out of their product. And for getting that burn-the-shit-out-of-Christina's-skin formula fixed. I considered myself brave for even trying Nair again after all the trauma I went through in high school with it. But the bottle promised "new and improved" and yes, they did deliver.

Of course, now that I am hair-free, the sun has gone into hiding. So much for wearing those cute shorts I just bought. *sigh* Well, I know it'll be back, I just hope the shorts still fit when it does. Wouldn't that just be my luck. I don't think I'll have a problem though, seeing how they are maternity shorts with that to-die-for paneling we all love.

Pregnancy still moving along. I now have constant heartburn and Braxton Hicks contractions all day long. I never had them (that I know of) with Lexie, so the first few freaked me out. I knew what they were, but still it felt weird. They don't hurt thank God, but annoy me still the same. Only 72 days to go...woohoo!

Holy shit! It's raining so freakin' hard I'm afraid to go outside for fear of being swept away in the downpour. I think God Himself is angry with California. The lights are flickering and I think I heard thunder. Guess I'll just pack those shorts away.

29 weeks, 1 day

Only 10 weeks and 6 days to go. Wow, I can't believe that in that amount of time I will be the mom to two kids. Does God know about this? Does He know how immature I am? He must have way more faith in my mom abilities than I do.

I am so ready for this to be over. I can't reach my toes, shaving my legs is a joke and forget in personal grooming, you know, "down there." S offered to clean me up, so to speak, but I can't say I trust him with a razor near my nether area. It doesn't paint a pretty picture in my head, you know.

Ah well, I'm off to chase Lexie down and once again clean her toys up off the floor. Why I bother with that, I'll never know.

Mama, he's crazy

I don't think I've told you all about my brother-in-law, Dipshit, yet. No, his name isn't really Dipshit, but it might as well be.

Dipshit is a druggie, junkie, loser. I met him the same night as I met S and I don't think he was sober then, and I know for sure he ain't sober now. Back then he was just visiting California. He was married and had a beautiful little girl, Hope. Fast forward a couple years, he is now divorced, Hope is diagnosed with Leukemia and he doesn't seem to care. There seem to be too many drugs for him to do, rather than worry about his 2 year old fighting cancer. Flash forward to today. Hope is in remission (just hit the one year mark!), Dipshit just got released from a two year stint in prison and now he's homeless in California. Wow, reading back on this, I realize how depressing it is. Somehow, S and I are of the weird sort that can find humor in all that is dark...Well, except the cancer shit, that just isn't funny.

He's not allowed in our house, but that doesn't stop him from trying. He's tried crying, begging and even breaking in (to our backyard...He got caught because he got stuck on our fence, quite comical). Well, today marks the beginning of the already downward spiral into what I call "the fruitloop."

I woke up to him knocking on the door. Being the nice person I am, I ignored him. About five minutes later, he calls from the nearest payphone to tell us, "I've left those Tarrot cards in your mailbox." WTF?

I go to look. Sure enough, there are Tarrot cards in the mailbox. What does it mean, you ask? I haven't the foggiest. I called S at work to let him know, he's as clueless as I am. Is there some deep, drug-induced meaning behind these? Probably. Would I need to be loaded to understand? Probably again. Is that ever going to happen? Hell no.

Damn fruitloop.

Be afraid, be very afraid

Please, God, tell me this isn't true. Because if it is, I am going to have to seriously rethink all of my concepts on how this world works and what life is all about. Seriously.

They say it's your birthday (happy birthday to ya)

Exactly one year ago today, my life was forever changed.

Alexis Ann Austin was born at 3:51pm. She weighed 6 pounds 15 ounces and was 19 and 3/4 inches long.

Happy birthday Bug-a-boo!

Lexie's birthday bash

Here she is in her lovely party dress. Pay no attention to the tennis shoes on her feet. Mommy (wait, that's me) forgot to buy party shoes. Oops. This is the only time she smiled all day. Let's just say parties aren't her thing. After about two hours of her screaming and crying I decided I wanted a new kid. One that never throws fits in public. Do they even make models like that?

More on Terri Schiavo

Okay, so S doesn't agree with me. The man I'm married to and have child(ren) with is an asshat. Really.

How could he think it's cool to just yank away a persons means of nutrition? Blah, he pisses me off. I told him I can't talk to him about this anymore because otherwise I will kill him. And I would totally get away with it because I'm pregnant.

Terri Schiavo

So, I guess I've been living in a cave for the past ten years, because this is the first time I have heard of Terri Schiavo. I seem to recall hearing something about them wanting to pull "the plug" and thinking, ah just let 'em. Little did I know that "the plug" in question was a feeding tube and not life support.
What kind of man is Michael to do this to his wife, seriously? Just divorce her and get on with your life. It makes me so sick. I saw clips of how she is now. Yes, she is "not all there" but the woman made eye contact with people. She smiles. How could these people let her starve to death? Men condemned to death row die with more dignity and humanity than this.

Let's pray this latest battle in congress favors this woman and her amazing parents.

Will this post?

I know many other blogging people out there are having trouble with Blogger, so I won't go into my sob story. Just know that this is my fifth attempt at posting.

My birthday was a good one. We saw the film Hostage which was good. Bruce Willis is aging rather nicely, thank you very much. His daughter Rumour plays his child in the film. She's in a total of like 10 minutes of it, but those 10 minutes weren't bad. I think she was in Striptease with Demi, am I right? Anyway, it felt weird being away from the house for 4 whole hours without Lexie. I mean, S and I have been gone from her before, just never both of us together. I must say, I can get used to it.

I was a little bummed that this is the third birthday in a row that I haven't gotten to have a margarita on. Each time I've been pregnant. If I had known the pregnancy during my 25th birthday was going to end so suddenly and sadly, I would have had 14 margaritas (I meant to type 15, but 14 came out and I figured if I had changed it to 15, all of you would think I was a lush or something). You know, my ex-SIL actually said she didn't see anything wrong with having "a" drink while pregnant. Yeah, this from the woman who smoked pot every day of her pregnancy and on the weekends treated herself to a White Russian. Um, I don't think I'll be taking baby advice (assvice) from her.

Lexie did great with her babysitter (my step-monster...er, I mean mother). M (as she will now be called) was great, only commenting on the disarray of my house 3 times, instead of her usual 20 comment visits. That must have been her present to me.

Happy Birthday to ME!

Yes kiddies, it's my birthday. So everyone gather around and someone strike up the band...
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday dear Christinaaaaaaaa
Happy birthday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Thank you, thank you. What fun and exciting things have I planned for my glorious day at turning 27 (years? gulp!), you may ask? Well, let's see. I had a OB appointment at the butt-crack of dawn, then after that unfulfilling (except we are now onto appointments every 2 weeks...it's getting closer to that time folks) experience I was subjected to needle pokes and blood-letting every hour on the hour for three freakin' hours. Yes, the 3 hour glucose tolerance test. Let's cross those fingers and hope I pass.

Tonight, the husband-unit and I will venture forth into that grown up world of dinner and a movie. Sans baby! I am so excited I could just poop my pants...ew, which I think Lexie just did. But, that's okay because tonight I'm going to see. A. Movie. Which I haven't done in over a year. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a crappy butt to attend to.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I've decided to go with a pink template for my blog. I've been feeling very pink the last few days.

Also, I think my computer thinks that my eyesight is going bad. When I logged on this fine and sunny morning, all the letters and pictures were bigger. I know you can change them like that on purpose, but I have done no such thing. Like I said, my computer must just be worried about my eyes. Hey, at least something cares.

Miscellaneous Poopoo

I've decided to bite the bullet and buy me some shorts that fit. You know, like maternity shorts, for pregnant women. Jeez, I keep forgetting that I am, in fact, pregnant. I keep catching myself complaining to S about how my clothes don't fit or how tired I am. He just looks at me and says, "duh, you're pregnant." And every time I swear you can see the light bulb go on over my head and I'm like, "ohhhh, so that's why ______(fill in blank with obvious stupid answer)."

There ain't nothin' like having a rambunctious almost-one year old to chase around to make you forget everything else going on in your life. Lexie's new favorite activity is to stomp around in circles on the back patio, screaming at the top of her lungs. Great fun! She looks so damn cute though in her little (well, not so little...She wears a size FIVE!) sandals.

I've actually enjoyed living in California for the last few days. Eighty degree weather will do that to you. I just don't understand how last week it was forty-five out and raining cats and dogs. Now, you would think it was June.

So, a blast from my past called earlier this week. Jenn, my best friend from high school has just moved here from our hometown in Washington. What a trip. I haven't seen her in almost 6 years. She'll be coming to the bash known as 'Lexie's first birthday party,' which is actually just an excuse for me to have all of my friends and family come over and eat yummy food. I'm so excited. Now I have another friend near me. That brings the total to about 2....Okay, that sounds even sadder now that I've written out.

Well, I guess I should go enjoy the sunshine while I can still move around without waddling.

Huh?

Some observations made by yours truly today :

• none of my shorts fit. Seriously, I am walking around in a pair of jean shorts zipped maybe half of the way up. And here I was all excited about the sun coming back to California.
• The older your child gets and the more variety of food she eats means the stinkier her poop is. Goodness me!
• If you forget to feed your guinea pig for one day, he will bite you when you reach into his cage for his food bowl.
• Every time I clean the bowl of my beta fish (which is basically a decorative living thing), he tries to commit suicide by jumping. Every. Single. Time.
• Thinking about doing the dishes doesn't get them done.
• The same thing goes for the bed getting made.
• Don't leave your water glass within reach of the baby, or you will find crackers floating in it.
• Did you know Dr. Pepper and Diet Dr. Pepper have prunes in them? Yeah, it never really mattered to me either until yesterday when I drank like 7 of them. I don't think I need to share the details of that adventure with you.
• But I will share with you the wisdom of buying quality toilet paper.

Here comes the sun (do do do do)

If you've seen any weather reports recently on the "wonderful" state of California, then you know we have had rain, rain, and then some more rain. The last couple of days though, there has been this bright shining object in the sky. It's bright out and warm. I think it's the sun, but I haven't seen it since last summer so I am not too sure.

I am so freakin' relieved that the weather has changed. I was seriously going crazy, staying indoors day after day after day. It sucks not having a car and not being able to walk anywhere. But, these past two days Lexie* and I have gone for more walks than I can count. She digs it, I dig it, everybody is happy. Our walks aren't too exciting, usually just to the corner store or the 7-11 for a slurpee (I crave their Crystal Lite Raspberry Ice majorly). Lex seems to like slurpees so she doesn't complain.

Her first birthday is in 18 days. My baby will be one. The big oh-one. I am feeling so melancholy over it. I find myself dragging out the photo albums and crying over how small she was. My husband just smiles and, I know, is thinking to himself that his wife is looney. Who knew parenting would break your heart?

We're planning a party for the 20th, and I am praying that this weather stays put until then. If not, you can find me in the backyard, shaking my fist and screaming into the heavens. Yup honey, your wife is loco.

*I've decided to use my daughter's name from now on. She is too young to request that I don't and my whole family knows about this website anyway. My dork of a husband still doesn't want his name used though.

Shamelessly stolen

Yes, I'm a thief. I stole the following list from Kris (Hi Kris...don't hate me). But, hey, she stole it from someone else. I just had to post it 1) because every single one is true (for me) and 2) it made me feel old. Were the 80's really that long ago....

You grew up in the 1980s or Early 1990s if............
1. You've ever ended a sentence with the work "PSYCHE"
2. You watched the Pound Puppies.
3. You can do the rap to "The Fresh Prince Of Bel-Air" and can do the "Carlton"
4. Girls wore biker shorts under their skirts and felt stylishly sexy.
5. You yearned to be a member of the Baby-Sitters Club and tried to start a club of your own.
6. You owned those lil' Strawberry Shortcake scented dolls.
7. You know that "WOAH" comes from Joey on Blossom.
8. Two words: Hammer Pants.
9. If you ever watched "Fraggle Rock"
10. If you ever had plastic streamers on your bikes handle bars and you had "spokey-dokes" or playing cards on your spokes for that incredible sound effect.
11. You can sing the entire theme song to "Duck Tales" (Woo-ooh!)
12. You remember when it was actually worth getting up early on Saturdays to watch cartoons.
13. You wore a ponytail on the side of your head.
14. You saw the original "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" on the big screen and you can still remember the turtles names.
15. You got super excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school*.
16. You made your Mom buy you one of those clips that would hold your shirt in a knot on the side.
17. You played "MASH" (Mansion, Apartment, Shelter, House)
18. You wore stonewashed Jordache jean jackets and were proud of it.
19. L.A. Gear...........need I say more?
20. You wanted to change your name to "JEM" in kindergarten (She is truly Outrageous).
21. You remember reading "Tales of the Fourth Grade Nothing" and all the Romona books.
22. You know the profound meaning of "WAX ON, WAX OFF."
23. You wanted to be a Goonie.....and you still do.
24. You ever wore fluorescent clothing (some of us...head-to-toe).
25. You remember what Michael Jackson looked like before his nose fell off and his cheeks shifted**.
26. You have ever pondered why Smurfette was the only female smurf.
27. You took lunch boxes to school and you traded Garbage Pail Kids in the school-yard.
28. You remember the CRAZE and the BANNING of slap bracelets.
29. You still get the urge to say "NOT" after every sentence.
30. You remember Hypercolor t-shirts***.
31. Barbie and the Rockers was your favorite band.
32. You thought She-Ra (Princess of Power) and He-Man should hook up.
33. You thought your childhood friends would never leave because you exchanged handmade friendship bracelets.
34. You owned a pair of jelly shoes and probably 24 pairs at that.....even in neon colors.
35. After you saw Pee-Wee's Big Adventure you kept saying "I know you are but what am I?"
36. You remember "I've fallen and I can't get up."
37. You remember going to the skating rink before there was inline skates.
38. You ever got seriously injured on a slip and slide.
39. You have ever played Skip-It.
40. You had or attended a birthday party at McDonald's.
41. You have gone through this nodding your head in agreement.
42. You remember Popples.
43. "Don't worry, be happy."
44. You wore like, EIGHT pairs of socks over tights with high top Reeboks.
45. You wore socks scrunched down (sometimes you still do......getting yelled at the younger, hip members in your family).
46. "Miss Mary MACK MACK MACK, all dressed nin BLACK BLACK BLACK"
47. You remember boomboxes and walking around with one on your shoulder like you were all that.
48. You remember watching both "Gremlins" movies.
49. You know what it meant to say "Care-Bare Stare"!!!
50. You remember watching "Rainbow Bright" and "My Little Ponies"
51. You thought Doogie Howser/Samantha Micelli was hot.
52. You remember Alf, the lil furry alien from Melmac.
53. You remember New Kids On The Block when they were so cool.....and you don't even flinch when people refer to them as "NKOTB."****
54. You knew all the characters names and their life stories on "Saved By The Bell" the original class.
55. You know all the words to "Shot Through The Heart" by BON JOVI
56. You just sang those words to yourself.
57. You remember watching MAGIC vs. BIRD.
58. homemade Levi shorts........the shorter the better.
59. You remember when mullets were cool!
60. You had a mullet!
61. You still sing "We Are The World"
62. You tight-rolled your jeans.
63. You owned a banana clip*****.
64. You remember "Where's the beef?"
65. You used to (and probably still do) say "What you talkin' bout Willis?"
66. You had big hair and you knew how to use it.
67. You're still singing Shot Through The Heart..........aren't you?


*is it sad that I just bought the newest addition of this game for my computer. I am so in love with it!

**when I was six, I was madly in love with him. I think this was during his Thriller stage, nose #2.

***I was always afraid to wear these, thinking they would just show off my underarms. I had horrible visions of the hypercolor only showing up under my arms and no where else.

****I was a HUGE New Kid's fan. My walls were plastered with the pictures. I had so many pictures up that I would only dress in the bathroom, because all of those eyes creeped me out when I was naked.

*****we used to wear them over our eyes and pretend to be Jordy(sp?) from Star Trex: The Next Generation. My mother was (and still is) a HUGE Trekkie. I'm talking conventions and everything.

I knew I should have studied

I failed my 1 hour glucose tolerance test. I knew I would, seeing how I failed it with my first kiddo. I hate, hate, HATE the 3 hour test. The lab I go to will not let you leave for any reason, so I have to sit there, bored to tears, for three frickin' hours...again.

I knew I should have skipped breakfast that morning, but when you're pregnant skipping a meal is like being told to cut off a finger. Well, for me anyway. If it ain't nailed down, it's going down my throat.

Well, here's to happy testing thoughts. I go in next week for the 3 hour torture.

In the meantime, would you really want to pull this pen out of your purse at the bank?

No, I didn't think so.

Does it make me a bad parent if...

...I enjoy watching my daughter try to walk away holding the string that is tied to the desk leg (don't ask why it's tied there, I don't really know)? It's just too funny seeing her fall on her butt as soon as the slack runs out. Plus, she's holding onto this little eeyore toy for dear life, and every third fall or so it goes flying out of her hand. The sound she makes when this happens is almost enough to make me pee my pants.

Everybody dance now

all I can say is, I'm glad the mini-cam wasn't around when I was younger or my mom could have done this to me.

A letter to baby bean

Dear Tenant,

I know we went into agreement that you would be living here for 9 months (give or take), but I'm am seriously having doubts. I am currently looking into the matter, but I somehow don't think you are within your renters rights with some of the shenanigans you have pulled.

Now, I have heard a rumor that the previous tenant left the place a little bigger than before. That doesn't mean your parties can be bigger and better. The walls of the place are only so thick and it's embarrassing trying to explain the shaking and rumbling seen be friends and family.

I have received several complaints from your neighbors about these wild parties going on at all times, day and night. Mr. Bladder said he would especially appreciate it if you let up on the body slamming, since you seem to share a common wall. Ms. Stomach (who resides on the opposite side) is in agreement. As for the lovely Kidney couple, their only complaint is the amount of processing they have had to do, due to your excessive use of liquids. I mean, you only weigh about a pound right now, how much water can you possibly need?

As for the amount of food you require, that is no problem, but what you are asking to be delivered is outrageous. I don't like pizza that much, yet you demand it almost nightly. And why can you only have a sandwich from Subway, when we have bread, lunchmeat, and cheese here at the house. And does the strawberry ice cream have to be the most expensive brand? My pocketbook would sure like it better if you could choke down the generic. I know, I know, the food was part of our original agreement, but seriously! I think it's time you looked for a job.

My husband (daddy) just looked the lease over, and wants me to remind you that there are only 16 weeks left. But, if you feel the need to move out sooner by a few weeks, it would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you,
Management (aka mommy)

mmmmkay

So, I've been thinking about that damn article for like three days now. That's a record set for amount of time a subject has spent in my head.

When I first read about over-achieving moms, I felt this twinge of guilt. Like, maybe I am a giant loser because I don't do and don't plan on doing any of that crap for my kids. I'll say it first, I am the laziest of moms I know. So far, I have lucked out because my daughter is very self-suffient. So much so that if you try to play with her, she gets pissed. I've been very happy with that.

Then, I got to thinking (this happened about three days ago...See the connection?) what if she's self-suffient because I made her that way? I mean I've pretty much let her do her thing since coming home from the hospital. She was (still is) a big sleeper. Fine with me. That meant I had more me time. I can never get enough me time. But, what if she had to adapt because of my laziness. Is this possible. I really don't think so, I think it's her personality. But still. Should I be planning play dates and gymboree class and swim lessons and future ballet classes and karate and...and...and?

When I stumbled upon the slacker mom article I felt liberated. Yes. Finally. I don't need excuses any longer as to why my house is a mess. As to why my baby is still in her jammies even though it's three in the afternoon. As to why I'm still in my jammies at three in the afternoon. And this is totally how I want it. I want my kids to be self-suffient. But, if this next one pops out demanding my attention and time 24/7 that's okay too. I'll give it to her.

Because that's the kind of mom I want to be. One who gives her kids what they want, and doesn't shove a million and one activities in their faces. If I'm unkept and wild looking, it will be because that's what I want, not because I don't have the time for me.

Age of the slacker mom

In light of the recently published, Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the age of Anxiety, which is featured in Newsweek, I offer this.

That is the type of parenting I'm all about, ladies and gentlemen. Call me selfish, call me a slacker. I don't give a damn. I just don't see how running yourself ragged for your kids benefits the family.

I think getupgrrl said it best.

Oh those low-down, no-good baby blues

Reading Linda's post today got me thinking about my baby blues, and how I thought they would never end. My blues seemed to drag on and on. I think they only hung around for about 6 weeks, but it seemed forever at the time.

I tell all of my expecting friends that there is a difference in having and baby and having a baby. When you are pregnant, everything seems surreal. You have these wonderful fantasies about how life with baby will be. You just know that your husband will do half of the work, you will look beautiful and your baby will be perfect. Happily ever after, right?

Then the baby is born.

The first couple of days are great (if you happen to have a "normal" birth). There are nurses helping you 24/7 and meals are delivered to your bedside. Your husband is a rock, running about getting anything you desire. Everyone who stops in tells you how cute your child is (and you know they aren't just saying it, and they don't just say that to all the patients...wink, wink). Then your doctor breezes in, tells you that you all look great and you can go home!

Then you get home.

As soon as your mother goes home (if you are so lucky to have her help the first few days), all hell breaks loose. The house is a mess. You are a mess. The baby won't stop crying. Hubby went back to work. Your MIL stops by to tell you how everything you are doing is wrong. And trying to keep up on that damn feeding/urinating/defecating chart is like doing advanced trigonometry when you really, really suck at math. On the days you are brave enough to venture past your front yard, there is petrified spit-up on your blouse and your hair doesn't need holding gel with the amount of grease in it. Yet, when other women ask you how it is to be a mom, you grit your teeth and answer, "great! I'm loving every minute of it." Heaven forbid you actually tell the truth. They might take your parental rights away.

But, honestly, it is worth it. Looking back, I wouldn't change a single second. How does that saying go? That which doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. Amen, sister, amen.

Sick again (or 'An Ode to Nyquil')

I have strep throat. How I got it, I don't know. I mean, I never leave my house. The only other person I have had face to face contact with besides S and my baby is the mailman. And that's always a quick "hello, hi, how are you?" But, maybe he is delivering more than just bills and junk mail. Maybe he takes secret pleasure in getting a lonely SAHM sick. Waah!

I look like Frankenstein, my glands are so swollen. My nose decided to stop working today, so I sound wonderful. Whine, whine, whine. I really hate being a grown up while sick. I just want my mommy. I want her to come take care of me.

When I was younger, she always made me a bowl of poached eggs and toast. All cut up. See, it doesn't taste the same unless you cut the toast and eggs up and mix them all together. It was the best. S has tried making it for me, but somehow it isn't the same. I think he lacks the "secret touch" a mother possesses. Possesses, hmm that was a fun word to type.

It really sucks now because all I'm allowed to take is the horse pill the doctor calls an antibiotic. I open my medicine cabinet and can hear the Nyquil calling out to me. Oh blessed Nyquil, how I miss you so. How I long for your warmth and licorice taste. How I long for the cozy night's sleep you always bring to me. It seems almost unfair that I have only gotten sick these last 18 months while I was/am pregnant. God knows I love Nyquil and this is my punishment for loving it so. I think that it's in the 10 commandments, something about not loving the alcohol-soaked medicine more than anything else. Sigh.

The Grudge

I have to tell you that movie scared the pee out of me. I watched it last night with a girlfriend and honestly thought I would die from fright. We had to pause it after the scary parts just so we could collect ourselves and tell eachother that we were okay.

Movies shouldn't make you have to do that.

Nesting much?

I've been wracking my brain for something to post about for almost a week. It's like all coherent thoughts have left my head. Lately, all I have been doing is cleaning. I think the nesting bug has bitten me. Hard.
It started out as a simple job, "let's clean under my bed." Well, that turned into, "let's rearrange the bedroom furniture." That, in turn, turned into, "let's clean the back porch, the garage, and pretty much everything else in the whole house."
It took me about three days. Now I am done. There is nothing left to clean. So, that means I've moved onto: Project Organize. Now there are piles of photographs all over my newly-cleaned bedroom carpet. Before that I tackled the linen closet and organized the towels by size, color, and texture. Somebody stop me.
S finds this stage of pregnancy amusing. Last pregnancy, it wasn't unusual for him to awaken at three in the morning and find my vacuuming or scrubbing toilets. You know, so that the john was clean for the baby we were bringing home.
I know this is only the beginning. I have four more months of Pregnancy to get through. So, I ask you: Is there a room in your house I can come clean. You know, because I really need my fix.

Well...

to let you all know. IT'S A GIRL. They are "almost 100%" sure. S is already fearing all of the estrogen that will be flowing here at Casa de Austin. I reminded him that he will always have our male beta fish and guinea pig. Somehow, I don't think that made up for it. The due date is still the same: June 15th. As soon as I get near a scanner I will scan in the pictures. Though how those technicians know they are looking at a baby, I don't know.

Ouch

Ouch is right. This is the first mommy-induced booboo for my little pun'kin. That's right, it's all my fault.

Seems she was standing against our front screen door and I opened it, causing her to tumble forward onto the concrete. Luckily (HA!), her nose broke her fall. And broke my heart.

I think my ego was more damaged than her nose. Long after her tears dried up, I was still squeezing some out of my own. Oh, the shame. It also doesn't help that S thinks it's fun to tell everyone that I threw her on the ground, then stepped on her. Revenge will be mine.

Holy Crap, she's walking

Am I in trouble now!

Last night angel-baby took her first tentative steps by herself. While S and I were busy talking. Thankfully, she caught S's eye and he got to witness her first "grown-up" steps. Man, I always miss the big moments. Luckily, she performed her trick once more before calling it a night.

I will admit it now. I cried. A lot. Seems to be happening a lot lately. I feel as though I am in mourning over the growing up of my little girl. It started out as just whimsical melancholy, but has snowballed into pregnant-hormonal depression over how she will never fit in one arm again. How she will never cut that first tooth again. Never take her first steps again...agh, I'm welling up as I type.

I know this is the pregnancy talking. But, it is sad. Who knew how heartbreaking watching your children grow could be. In just a few (yeah like 14-15) years, she's going to be screaming about how I don't understand and how she will just DIE if I don't let her do what she wants. So, I will cherish these sweet, simple, cuddle days. And cry into my pillow.

Pictures

Picassa and Hello are not cooperating with me, so I'll have to show you pictures the "old-fashioned" way. You know, where I highlight a word and you, the loyal reader, have to click on it. Barbaric I know, but what can I do?

So, here is my happy little family. I've cropped it so you aren't blinded by the great whiteness that is my legs (believe me, if you knew how white they really are, you'd be profusely thanking me).

This is my lovely husband S and me. My father thought a picture of us holding the flotation ring would be funny. I only agreed because it hides flabby tummies so well.

And here is our pride and joy. Isn't she just so damn cute, that you could puke? Yeah, I thought so too.

It's good to be back

Thanks to you for noticing I was AWOL. Yes, for part of the time we were in Hawaii, but the rest of my two week absence was due to the fact that S decided to spill water all over our driver for the computer. It didn't like that. So after much swearing and cursing, we are back online. Phew.

I have two weeks worth of blog reading to do and about 100 emails to respond to. I feel so popular. Though, I feel most of those are probably ads for viagra or something.

Hawaii was wonderful. Warm and sunny. And humid...ick! I felt like I was melting half the time. But, overall the trip was great. Except for my stupidity with the language. Seems I've been in California too long, when everywhere I went I hollered "Hola" at the people instead of "Aloha." Oops, hee hee. It made for some nice giggles. That and my sister wondering why we didn't need passports. Wow.

I promise to post some pics soon. Everything else is great. I am now 19.5 weeks along and the BIG u/s is February 2nd. Keep those fingers crossed that the babies legs won't be. Crossed that is.

This can't be good

You know you have a problem when you start thinking Anthony from the Wiggles is hot. It's an even bigger problem when you have dreams with him in them in which you are doing things only you and your husband should be doing.

Don't you need a license for parenthood?

So, I've been reading everyone's resolutions for the new year and I gotta say I am mightily impressed. I gave up on those a long, long time ago. I mean, who was I kidding? I knew by February that all of them would be broken. So, no resolutions for me. Makes life easier, you know?

The sun has finally come back to us here in Northern California. This cloudy, rainy crap was really wreaking havoc on my emotions. Even though I rarely venture past our front porch, just knowing if I did go into the "real" world I would get wet made me sad. Today, I know I can walk outside without fear of wet shoes and soggy hair. That is if I really wanted to walk somewhere (HA!)

I can't believe in about 6 months I am going to be the mother of two (2!!) children. Oh my. I certainly don't feel "grown-up" enough for that. Seriously, I still feel like I'm playing house somedays. S and I fight over the baby's toys (she got this really cool one for Christmas that he and I think is great. Greater than she seems to think). Can you imagine what we'll be like when the kids (agh, plural!) are older and want to play video games, but can't because I have to get to the next level before handing over the controller. My mind can't seem to wrap around that.

We have tooth!

Finally, the little bugger decided to cut her first tooth. And get this...It's her top tooth. Leave it to my child to be abnormal and cut her teeth backwards.

It was great. I didn't even know she was teething. I had been diligently checking her bottom gums every day, searching for signs that there were indeed teeth under them, never thinking to check her top gums. Then, a few nights ago I was tickling her and noticed something poking out up there in gumland. Holy crap, I thought and called S over to investigate (S is now code for husband, I was sick of typing new words for husband and he still won't let me use his name...sheesh).

As for those pictures of terror I promised, well that's a sore subject here. S decided that the only way to get rid of that nasty virus on the computer was to wipe out the hard drive and start all over. Meaning, he deleted all of our Christmas pictures. Son of a... Needless to say I was upset, he was upset, the dog and baby were upset. That will teach me not to backup onto a disk...DOH!

Uh oh

I've had too much caffeine. In fact, I've had so much that it just took me like 30 seconds to type that first sentence. For the life of me I couldn't get caffeine typed out right. The backspace is being abused today, folks.

Now I know some of you are anti-caffeine during pregnancy. Obviously, I am not one of those people. I partake daily in a caffeinated drink, usually a Diet Coke or a glass of iced tea. But, today I went all out and "purchased" myself a buttload of sugar and caffeine from the local Starbucks. It was free because they just opened the store, which is located about 1/2 mile from the other Starbucks, and that one is within view of the Starbucks located in the Safeway. They're taking over the world people. Anyway, where was this rambling going? Oh yes. I'm a bad pregnant person.

Not only do I drink caffeine, I eat deli meat and exotic cheeses too. I eat shrimp (can't remember if that's bad or not. My husband thinks so, I say whatever). I even took advil (that was an accident). I did this all last pregnancy (except for the accidental taking of advil) and as far as I can tell, my daughter isn't suffering due to my neglect.

I hate how certain groups, usually of women, bombard pregnant women with a huge list of DO NOT DO THESE THINGS. They make pregnancy seem like a scary, I don't know how anyone could survive, kind of epidemic. I know there are women out there where pregnancy is dangerous and a delicate matter, but not all of us are like that. I think I can puch/pull a couch 15 feet without killing myself or my child. I know my body and I know how to listen to it. So back off.

I have this friend that I am now afraid to talk to. Everything I tell her I've done on a certain day or occasion calls for her to gasp and/or sigh loudly, then proceed to lecture me on how much harm I may or may not be causing Monkey. It always ends with my rudely asking her how many kids she has had (none), how many times has she been pregnant (none) and then hanging up on her. Bitch. Blah. Yet, I call her everyday. Because I'm a glutton for punishment and secretly I enjoy pissing her off and hanging up on her. So, maybe I'm the bitch. Yay! Being pregnant really brings out the charm.

And I'm still alive

The lines have been drawn firmly in the sand. The future of our family get-together's looks bleak. I should have stayed true to my word and killed her when I had the chance.

Christmas dinner went well. I brought a delicious salad, just as I was asked too, and managed to avoid any contact with MIL until well after dinner. That's when the gifts came out. My baby received two Baby Einstein DVD's. Very cool. Baby Dominic (her daughter's son, who is 2 weeks old) also received 3 Baby Einstein Videos and about $300 more in clothes and toys. I wasn't minding too much (I was expecting some sort of favoritism to get played out), but when her husband, my father-in-law and father to my husband exclaimed, loudly "What the hell is all this? He's only 2 weeks old. And why didn't you buy more for Christina's baby?"

A hush fell upon the room as we held our breath waiting for her answer. And she didn't fail to live up to her Bitch title. "Well, this is my first grandchild first Christmas. I had to spoil him."

I honestly think she doesn't get it. At all. I mean, does she not realize that my baby is her husband's blood grandchild, but her daughter's son is not? Oh well, I knew it was coming, but I have to be honest about the hurt still being there. Bitch!

Otherwise, the holidays went well. My step-mom and dad had already given us our present (Hawaii...Only 15 day!), yet they still bought us some cool flip-flops to wear on the beach and a kick-ass photo album to store the soon-to-be taken pics of the Island. My family rocks.

Pictures of her first Christmas coming soon. Also, pictures of the toy we got her to torture her with. I know, we should be ashamed of making her cry, but it's so funny!

Merry F*cking Christmas

Oh yeah, I'm in a great mood. Holiday's tend to make me cranky. Especially now that I have Satan's spawn for a mother-in-law. You all know that story.

So, her daughter had her baby 2 weeks ago. He's a cutie, though I haven't been to see him yet. MIL is pissed because of that, thinking I don't care about her daughter, etc... Actually, it's because I had a nasty head cold which I'm finally over, husband is over and same with baby. You don't go see a newborn when germs are visiting your home, everyone knows that except bitch, er I mean MIL.

I got a call from her at 7:30(!!!) this morning to tell me I need to bring a salad to her house for dinner tonight. WTF?!?!? I asked her two freakin' days ago if she needed us to bring anything. She of course said no, and now she's calling me at that god-awful hour to tell me to bring a salad. I told my husband that I can't promise not to kill her. I can blame it on hormones (evil laughter inserted here).

Other than that, this should be a great Christmas. I mean, it's my angel's first! We, of course, spent too much on presents that she'll pay no attention to. But, they all come in cool boxes that I know she'll adore. Pictures promised.

I'm 15 weeks along now. Wow, time is flying this pregnancy. I actually forget that I'm knocked up sometimes. Until, late at night, when I google everything that could go wrong. Then I'm up half the night crying about something(s) which probably will never happen. Good grief!

So, to all of my readers (or is it reader, heh) Merry Christmas. May you kill no one and may you not piss anyone off.

For the love of all that is holy

I really hate computers. Really. Hate. Them. Especially when the only one you've got is infected with a nasty virus that causes your husband to turn all sorts of red and mutter under his breath words you didn't think he actually knew.

It's been a fun couple of days. I didn't realize how addicted I was to the internet until it was taken away from me. By day two, you would have thought my best buddy had died. In a sense, he had. Mr. Internet has kept me sane and in touch with several sane people for several years now (I'm going out on a limb here thinking you all are sane, right?). The pain I felt when I passed by the dark screen of the monitor was real and heartwrenching. Even Golden Girl's reruns couldn't bring me out of my funk. I was forced to clean the house, oh the horror.

But, last night, after many hours of cursing and many shades of red later, my hero, that man I love, fixed it. He tracked that virus down and sent it to virus heaven...er, hell. I knew I was doing right when I said "I do." Now, things will finally get back to normal around here. You know, clothes piled up everywhere, dishes posing as Petri dishes in the kitchen and baby toys covering every space of the carpet, which will need vacuuming. Home, sweet home.

All is good

Had my second OB appointment today. I didn't have to get naked, or half-naked, so that was good. Couldn't hear Monkey with the doppler, but got to see her/him/it? on the u/s machine.

I also got a prescription for the headaches I've been suffering from every night for about a month. I really hope they work. Headaches have got to be the worst thing ever. I used to suffer from frequent migraines in high school and wouldn't wish that on anyone. Well, maybe my evil mother-in-law, but that's a different story.

Christmas is coming along here. We bought our fake tree, I decorated it all by myself (puffs chest out proudly), now we just need the husband to hang from the gutters and put up the lights. I don't see this happening any time soon, and you know I'm not going to do it.

So, that's how thing are here in Casa De Loca. More later...

Wistful Thinking

wishing she was big enough to play outside (please ignore how dirty the window is).

Random Brain Droppings

Do babies have some sort of homing device for danger intalled in their wee little brains? I swear, my daughter can find the lone leaf missed by the vaccum or the one outlet I forgot to plug up in a room filled with toys, dolls, and other baby-friendly gear.

Watching a rerun right now of America's Funniest Videos (I know, I know I have to get a life), who told Daisy Fuentes she had talent? Seriously.

Has anyone really ever figured out how many licks it is to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop? I have tried, but am far to impatient and after 3 licks I chomp into that sucker, only wanting the chewy center anyway.

Did anyone really think Twila would win Survivor? I mean, she pretty much burned every jury member. I'm glad Chris won. And again, this is further proof of how sad my life is. Can you say couch potato?

How come East Coaster's say "standing on line" and West Coaster's (like myself) say "standing in line?"

Fa La La La La La La La La

Well, another cold bites the dust. I swear I'm a magnet for the suckers.

Things are progressing nicely here. Baby girl is growing like a weed and I can assume Baby Monkey is too. I'm sorry for the delay in posting the u/s pics...I have no life outside this house, so that makes contact with a scanner next to impossible. Will work on remedying that.

Tonight is hubbies work holiday party. This year they have chosen an Italian restaurant located in the ghetto. I shit you not. It's in a city called Pittsberg, near a suburb called Bay Point. Everyone calls it Gun Point. If you need more explanation than that, I am jealous of your small view of the world and how it works. The party should be fun. He works for a mom and pop company owned by a loud Irish-Catholic family. Heavy on the Irish. As in, gulp gulp. The liquor will be flowing tonight. And for the second year in a row, I get none. Being pregnant is so much fun.

The holidays are almost here. Meaning it's back to Top Ramen and Mac 'n' Cheese for us. We recently found out that my father is taking the whole fan damily to Hawaii next month. So, it's Mac 'n' Cheese for a while. A long while. Yum.

Sick

Once again I have been blessed with a cold. A real humdinger. I can't hear or breathe. It's a real treat. On top of feeling like shit, my baby girl has this wonderful gift as well. Her face is covered in slime. Snot sucks people.

I will write more when I am feeling better. In the meantime, curse my doctor's office for telling me I can't take any of the "good" stuff. Damn them.

A post with some pictures

The usual way for me to post pictures isn't working today, so I'll just link to them.

I'm feeling recovered from the mondo trip. Idaho was by far my favorite stop, but I learned some interesting things on the way there. For instance, in Montana they really take their beer seriously, and Grandpa Stan takes his dog's home seriously (yes, it is a two-story doghouse). My angel loves car trips and slept most of the way. And in Southern Idaho, they really want you to buy soda (or as they annoyingly call it: pop).

All in all, it was a great trip. Thanksgiving was a blast, mostly due to this...How could anyone resist cuteness like that?

Well, if they're tapered, they must be pleated too.

Hayden, Idaho is a small suburb of Cour d'alene, just a small blip on any map, yet comfy in it's own way. It is also the final resting place for all of those hideous tapered and pleated women's slacks the late eighties and early nineties brought us. If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'.

Wednesday evening I attended a worship service for the holiday at my mother's quaint little church. There was singing, worship, and an actually interesting service on the history of Thanksgiving in the church. It was during the singing that I noticed the epidemic. Up on risers, in front of everyone, was the church choir. And I kid you not, every woman over thirty was wearing pleated slacks. That were tapered. Good grief. So, I looked around and noticed that almost every woman in the congregation was wearing them too. There were blue, green, red, black, and one pair of some gross shade of brown. Then I noticed that a lot of these women were also wearing the old favorite, turtleneck/vest combo. Hideous.

I tried pointing it out to my mother, but she just gave me that glazed over look I know all to well. The look that means she hasn't the foggiest. And that's when I looked down. I looked down to see that my mother, my own flesh and blood, was wearing...Pleated pants. Tapered.

I don't encourage crazy

Well, we're back and alive and all that good stuff. Trip was fantastic.

Montana is a cold barren wasteland of a state. But, now with a casino on every corner. Fantastic. We were there to visit husband's paternal grandparents. His grandpa is a sweetie, who insisted on calling me Chrissy, which hasn't happened since I was six and oh-so-cute. His grandma is a hoot. She suffered a stroke a couple of years ago. It was a light one (is there really such a thing?), and the only after-effects seems to be her ability to be incredibly rude. She gave us the third degree for traveling, by car, this time of year. Nevermind that there wasn't a flake of snow to be seen...

Her: I just don't see how you lucked out. This time of year is horrible for travel.
Me: Well, I guess we're just lucky.
Her: Well, you have to understand when your husband called us, I just couldn't encourage him about the trip. I don't encourage crazy.

And that line became our motto for the trip.

I will post again on the many other stops on our two-week Western state tour later. Right now, there is a mountain of laundry staring me down.

*sidenote: first OB appointment was the day before we left. Baby is where it's supposed to be and looking fine. As soon as I get near a scanner I will share with you the first of many photos of, what has now been dubbed, Monkey (when you see the u/s picture, you'll see why).