Beachin It & Sparkle Folo

There is one great thing about these progesterone shots, and that's the fact that my doctor's office sees a heck of a lot of me. Once a week, sometimes twice (if I have a normal appointment scheduled separately.) My doctors and nurses seem as alarmed as I am, and aware. Blood pressure yesterday, a wonderful 113/65. Sweet. No other symptoms so far and hoping to keep it that way. But we'll be watching. I am feeling confident.

Of course, today will be a whirlwind, as we're off to the beach! And I am not yet packed. In fact, I'm doing laundry as we speak. I've done a really good job of preparing, haven't I? And I have to clean up a bit, too, so that we can come home to a nice clean home when we're done. (Oh yes, Robin, it's Lido Beach!) There will be shopping on the circle, for sure.

Plus, we will be taking our new minivan with us! HAHAHA! We are officially minivan owners. I never thought I could feel cool driving a minivan, but that pretty, sparkling midnight blue color was lookin sharp (to me). The real clencher was when I was blasting our rock station on the way home from picking it up and "Let the bodies hit the floor" came on. There I am, rocking out in the minivan to this crazy song like a headbanger. Driving a minivan. I don't have pictures of it yet, but I'll leave on a couple pictures from this week that cracked me up. I will try to blog from Sarasota this week, I hear there's wireless somewhere in one of the buildings. Have a great weekend!

Trying to fill some big shoes

Daddy playing human robot guy with a box from a present we opened
Baby Robot Poops

Sparkles

It's amazing how a cute little word like 'sparkles' could be so horrifying to me. I had them yesterday. I was standing there at the bathroom mirror, just about to reach into the drawer to get the toothpaste and brush my teeth, when there they were. For about five seconds, tiny, bright white flashes of little fireworks going off around my eyes. It sounds mundane. Lots of people see sparkles; but these are unlike any sparkles I have ever had. They're not auras before a headache, little tiny dots of light or any of those things that your eyes normally do. I can't explain it, only to say that I don't have a good 'history' with these kind of sparkles. Last pregnancy, I had them for the first time at 28 weeks and a few weeks later I was on bedrest with the early stages of preeclampsia. After I had them the first time, I thought them odd. Pregnancy deals one with many different pains, many of them which are normal and many of which are not. But most people are more aware of their bodies during pregnancy and if you're like me, we look up every single little pain and symptom on the internet. When I googled "flashing lights" and "pregnancy" or "sparkles" and "pregnancy" it took me straight to the preeclampsia website. I had never heard of preeclampsia before, so I quickly thought I was being a neurotic, paranoid pregnant woman. Whatever, that won't happen to me, that's ridiculous, I thought. Shortly afterward, my blood pressure went spiraling out of control, my body swelled up with so much water I looked like a human water balloon about to pop, and I was put on bedrest.

I spent this entire pregnancy thinking that everything was ok, "as long as I don't see sparkles." So when I saw them yesterday, I lost it. I am in a panic. I hope to God that I will look back on this post and think to myself how lucky I was that nothing came of those sparkles. But I very much believe that we know our own bodies and the things they're trying to tell us and I have a bad feeling. I won't lie. I'm terrified. I'm summoning all my angels and God Himself, to help me carry this baby to healthy full-term or longer. And if it can't be that long, please, let's just make it to the 30's.

Thursday Thirteen #30

OOh my tt is turning the big 3-0! How nice! Well, we're off Saturday for a week at the beach, so here are:

13 things I'm looking forward to on beach week

1. Driving there in our new minivan. Yep, I said it. We're just waiting on our specific color to come in from another dealer and the deal will be sealed. You're looking at a future minivan owner. That's another post for another day.

2. The gorgeous change of scenery. Who doesn't just lurrve stepping out onto the beach every morning? Waking up to the sun sparkling on the ocean and watching the sun go down every night over the water. Ahhh. Serenity now.

3. Trying the local British tea room. Purely for research purposes. (Suuuuuure!)

4. Wearing white pants. Florida breaks all the white pants fashion rules anyway; people wear them in December and it's no big whoop. But wearing white pants is still so touristy to me, and when I put them on, I'll feel like I've come down from up north instead of from just an hour away.

5. Poops at the beach. He's just so darned cute in his tropical-wear. If only he'd just stop eating the sand.

6. I live an hour away, and I have never been to Sarasota's beaches. Isn't that ridiculous?

7. Spending time with the family, of course, all relaxed and sun-kissed.

8. Getting a floppy hat and some cute little beach wraps. Although they will look more like mu mus on me rather than cute little beach wraps.

9. Restaurants.

10. Finishing Harry Potter. I have been avoiding all reviews and reports on the book like the plague. LALALALALALALLAALALALA! I can't hear you!

11. Sleeping in.

12. Just sitting. On the beach. Just me and my I-Pod.

13. Not wanting to come home.

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Bye Bye Baby Mullet!

OK. I gave in. I don't know why I was so emotionally attached to Poops' hair. I think it may be because he had so little of it for so long; he was practically bald until a year old. I remember him in the little isolettte after he was born with only the tiniest bit of hair around the outer perimeter of his head, and the whole middle was bald. He looked like an old man whose name should have been "Ira", with hair that had receded to just the very back and the sides. Since then, I was hoping the hair on top would grow in like the hair on the bottom did so we could go get an official "all over" cut. But it didn't happen. It just became a mullet, but I refused to see it. And despite the urging by all of our family members, including husband, who talked about his mullet every chance he could, I was staying strong: no cut just yet. Weeks of this went by. That is, until I put this little basketball outfit on him with cutoff arms and he looked like he should be on an episode of Cops. Fine. The mullet had to go. But I did save it, because that's what one has to do with the first haircut, of course. So, gratuitous first haircut pictures.

Baby Mullet Before










Baby Mullet After


And while we were at it, Putty got her huge coif cut too; there she is down there looking smooth and dapper, I might say. Ohhh that's a face only a mother can love!

Life, Love, and Irish Soda Bread

I just finished reading a wonderful book called "Recipes for a Perfect Marriage". The stories of two Irish women's lives, loves, and marriages. The author somehow creatively matches up Irish dishes and the amount of work you have to put into them, to coincide with these women's marriages. Each chapter begins with a new recipe, which seems to mirror exactly the new phase of life and marriage for each of these women. The novel was less about the perfect marriage than it was about all of the different type of loves that people fall in throughout their lives; mother love, sister love, parent love, friend love, self love, passion love, and finally, husband love; things that make a marriage perfect, including all of a marriage's imperfections. My favorite passage in the book was the author, Morag Prunty's description of a mother's love, which I would never have understood if I read this book just two years ago. I found myself getting all misty and I just had to share it:

"No matter what wisdoms or tricks for happiness you learn, a mother worries every day of her life for her child. A wise one will pretend to let them go to keep them, but it's just a sensible lie. Motherhood is a sweet, sweet suffering; a joy today is marked by fear for tomorrow and a craving for yesterday."- Morag Prunty.

I highly recommend this as a read. Although I must warn that many people who know me well have looked at me sideways when seeing the title, as if I had a "how-to" book in my hands, so be prepared to rattle off something like, "No worries, marriage is fine. This is a novel."

Awwwww Shucks!!

I don't know what to say! Thanks, Stine! My favorite Norwegian blogger over at Mother's Home! has given me a badge I'll wear proudly. I started reading her blog when she began her quest for a million bucks through pay-per-post, and have come to find out we've got quite a bit in common, including the sisterhood that is being a preemie mom. So, thank you, Stine! I'm honored!

Now I get to nominate some of my other favorite chickadee bloggers:

1. Ok so her blog has sat idle while the world waits for updates on her and her soldier who recently returned home, but here's to my sister at Old Man Hancock along with a plea to return to telling her story as a military wife. She's my favorite person in the whole world. And not only did she relay the hardships of having a husband over in Iraq, she was a channel for people to show their support to every soldier, not just hers. She rocks.

2. My girl, Robin, at Welcome to My World cracks me up every day. She is the uber-motivated, uber-crafty, multi-tasking, how the hell does she do it all wondermom. Then, somehow, with two kids and 500 jobs that she happens to love by the way, she still finds times for the occasional random act of kindness. If we lived closer than, say, across the country, we'd be great friends in real face-to-face life too, I can tell.

3. Michelle, at Fluttering Butterflies, besides the fact that her blog is just so pretty, she's an American mom with a sweet tooth for good old American candies, living on the other side of the pond. Love her blog. Right now she's nursing a cold. Hope this cheers you up!

I've got more but I have to sleep, it's so late. Part Deux tomorrow! Thanks again, Stine!!

Baby's a Hobbit!

After sifting through the results that were googling "11 inches" this week (a frying pan, windshield wiper, a lock of hair donated by a little girl, and footwear) my favorite was the Sam Gamgee action figure. I figured after last week's debut as a mermaid, I'd choose something a little less estrogeny. So this week, I've got a hobbit action figure in my uterus.

Look Out! Pregnant Girl in the Front Row!

I had a terrible decision to make last night. As we walked into the venue where my favorite band was about to perform, and we happened to be among the very first few through the door at a general admission concert, my body in all of its wonder just drifted along to an empty spot along the front row, center railing. That was my spot. It called to me. My husband, however, who was looking at the very few seats in the back because he was worried that I might want to sit at some point, was, to say the least, none too pleased. I really had to make my case for this. (And by the way, since when have the effects of concert-going on one's hearing become an issue to my husband, who I've recently discovered is a 55-year-old man trapped in a 34-year-old man's body!?)

So there I was. I was seeing my favorite band ever, 5 months pregnant and belly a-bulging, and there was a spot in the very, very, front just for me. Not close the the front. The front. It was like the front row parted just for me. Literally. I cannot explain fate. So recap. I can stand in the dream spot. OR. (and here's the decision part): Anticipate the fact that there will be pushing, shoving, possibly moshing, the need to piddle at least one time during the night (AT LEAST!) and several hours of standing. Not to mention the monstrous speakers staring at me at eye-level and the potential of various clouds of smoke wafting in my direction, i.e. tobacco, potpourri, and that "other tobacco" that isn't quite legal.

I chose the front row.

Go ahead. Judge away! Yes, on paper it sounds crazy. But I'm pregnant, not disabled and last night, I shook hands with my favorite lead singer of my favorite band and I rocked out like a teenager. My method: I was able to maneuver my arms around the front row blockade in such a way that, if necessary, I could guard my precious belly with my arms. Also, husband was directly behind me and provided a very protective barrier around me. He also loosened up after two beers. I think I even caught him having (dare I say it!?) fun! (Egad!) And, to boot, thankfully most of the people directly surrounding us were aware of my pregnant self and even better, the only people moshing/slash/fighting were a couple of past-their-prime-stuck-in-the-80's-hairband-era-dyed-blonde-broads who were scolded for fighting by bouncers and Kevin, the lead singer himself, from the stage in the middle of a song. The second-hand-smoke was kind of a problem, but I was able to hold my breath as the pot clouds moved by. I won't lie. There were only two times in which I re-thunk my decision. The first was when we overheard a group of people talking about how there were not one, but TWO, opening bands. Yikes! I realized I was in trouble with the pee part right then when it was 7:30 and Candlebox was probably not even coming on until 10. And then, when husband left to use the restroom right before Candlebox came on, there was a rush of people mushing up trying to get closer and I thought, "OK. This is bad. Not only will husband not be able to protect me from the possibility of moshing, but I will certainly be squashed." But he returned about a minute after I thought that and all was ok.

I do admit that the pee part became a problem during the encore of Candlebox because the baby began continuously kicking at my bladder, but they had sung all the songs I had gone there to see already anyway, so we left about 5 minutes early. I was satisfied. Big time. And sweaty (sweat moustache was out in full force in all its glory in the summer humidity). And I was spent. I realize it was a gamble, but I really saw the chips in my favor and I don't think I could recreate a scenario as perfect as last night's experience, even if I tried in the best non-pregnant circumstances. The concert gods were watching.

So some good news, especially for you Anna Mary (and boy did I miss you there last night!!) Candlebox is releasing a new album next year and I will be as excited about its release as I was for the latest Harry Potter installment. Woohoo! They played a couple songs off of it, and I can tell you, it is good stuff. It is not at all like the sad failure that was "Happy Pills", their second album, which I think I may like just one song from. They took their time with this one, so it better be good. By the way, I didn't see this coming, Candlebox has lost the long-haired grunge look completely and now looks like a morph between The Killers and a Euro glam-band. But it was good for me. Almost 15 years later, they still rock.

An Obsession Revival

Recently, I was disheartened to hear a dj on the radio describe my favorite band as "one step away from working at the 7-11" after playing one of their songs. Oh it's so sad to see your band go from on top of the world to barely breathing. My favorite band in the whole world is Candlebox. A lot of people make fun of me for this but I don't care. What's any band without their die-hard fans, right? Besides, their song "Change" was a huge part of my college memory. Anyway, they're coming back here and I'm seeing them on Saturday night! At least they're still doing shows. The last time I saw them was something like 8 years ago; I was a single, skinnier version of myself and it was at the same tiny venue I will see them at on Saturday. The lead singer, Kevin, waltzed past me in his cowboy hat (usually I am not a cowboy hat person, but the rocker cowboy thing is acceptable to me, i.e. Richie Sambora) and actually looked at me and smiled and I have retained that memory in a glass case in my head ever since. I've seen them play 6 times and the only thing that would complete the experience would be if my sister were there to share it with me. I think she has seen them with me all of those times minus one. And by the way, if you're not sure if you've ever heard them, it's the first song on the MP3 player on this blog. Most people don't know them by name, only by song but don't worry, I am not offended. So for this week, this wonderful, wonderful, Candlebox week, I salute you, dear Candlebox! I will be there to support you, standing by your side like I have all these years, and trying to keep you from that interview at the 7-11.

My son is a mermaid

I didn't see this coming! Every week, I get a little ditty in my inbox from babycenter.com with updates on how big the baby should be and what my body "should" be going through, how much weight I should be gaining, yada yada yada. And I look forward to these updates not only because they are "refreshers" for me (being that I just had a baby just over a year ago), but also because they have humorously compared the size of my child to a fruit or a food, which not only provides for me a good picture of how large the baby actually is (i.e. raspberry, kiwi, lime, large sweet potato), but is just plain funny to me. Well, when I hit 20 weeks, it stopped! Now they just tell me how big the baby is in inches! How boring! And what a debbie downer. So last week, I made it up. Baby was something like 6 1/2, so I googled "6 1/2 inches". It doesn't take a genius to figure out what I came up with. And yes, I didn't use that, but it was hard to find something that people, including me, can picture so I used a "travel coffee mug" that I found, which you may have seen up top on my little ticker thingy. So since babycenter has let me down a little, I'm gonna mix it up myself. I'm just gonna google the inches every week and see what I come up with. Believe me, there are a lot of knives, hacksaws and speakers that come up on the search. PAGES of them. But eventually, I found this little gem when I googled 10 1/2 inches.
A mermaid statuette. 10 1/2 inches tall. Isn't she cute? I am sure that it probably weighs more than the baby, which is now just about a pound. Hmm. How to account for those other seven.

I've been tagged!

Oooh a meme! I've been tagged by Skittles with a meme originating from The Freelance Cynic and this one's about my groanings. Affectionately called:

The Moaning Meme

4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the earth.

-Mushrooms.
-Any commercial involving foot fungus or diarrhea.
-America's Got Talent.
-Spiders.

3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently.

-Drive like maniacs or do 30 in the left lane.
-Talk on their cellphones incessantly and unabashedly.
-Work as a salesperson or in the service industry and still hate customers and refuse to provide good customer service. Where did good customer service go?!!?? (Boy do I sound like an old lady.)

2 things you find yourself moaning about.
-The HEAT, my God, the HEAT! (And subsequent sweaty lip).
-Please rain. Sod is looking crunchy.

1 thing the above answers tell you about yourself.

-I really should just stay inside this summer.

RULES:

Link to the original meme at freelancecynic.com so people know what it's all about!
Be as honest as possible, This is about letting people get to know the real you!
Try not to insult anyone - unless they really deserve it or are very, very ugly!
Post these rules at the end of every meme!

Today I'm tagging:
Robin at Welcome to My World
Sparky Duck
Don't Call Me Mummy
ChupieandJ'smama
Michelle at Fluttering Butterflies

Have fun! Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful.

Thursday Thirteen #29

So if you happen to scroll down to see our latest sonogram, you'll see a very telling picture. IT'S A BOY! There are, without a doubt, a twig and berries there. So in all our excitement, this week's tt is:

13 Things About Another Boy

1. I have one already. I feel like a baby boy expert.

2. Of course, since all babies are different, I am quite sure this next one will knock me off my cocky high horse and have colic, be a picky eater, and cry all the time, all those crazy things that we thankfully avoided with the first. No! I am not wishing these things on myself. I am using The Secret right now to retract my order from the universe.

3. With a boy, I don't have to explain to my husband the "wipe front to back" method of changing a diaper.

4. I am honestly afraid of having a girl. I know what I did to my mom. It wasn't all that long ago. I was a caddy brat. When I have a girl, I am quite sure she will get me back. 10-fold.

5. I already have a TON of boy clothes. And lots of them are outfits I forgot to try on Aidan and by the time he did, he was already too big for them.

6. Blue infant carrier. Check.

7. Blue baby blankets. Check.

8. Aidan will have a life-long pal, less than 2 years older than him. Yes, I realize this can be good or bad. Hopefully, it will be good.

9. They will go to high school together. They will go on double-dates together. They will team up against their mom. They will have stinky, locker-room smelling bedrooms.

10. But earlier than that, one will push the other, they'll take each other's toys, and still get excited about riding side-by-side together in the little red wagon.

11. I'm so looking forward to the first time Aidan sees the new baby, and he "pets" him and subsequently has to begin to wrap his tiny mind around the fact that the baby is actually coming home with us for good. I can already see the wheels turning.

12. Tiny sibling pictures. How cute is this??

13. Two words: nursery decor!!!!! Which leads me to the nursery poll! Which theme do you like best? I have had them both picked out for months.

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Well----It's a .........

So...I promise I won't "bury the lead" as we say in "news-speak" so here it is.

IT'S A BOY!!!!!!!!!

And if you look closely, there is no question about it. Of course, I added a few arrows to the picture to help make seeing "everything" a little easier, but even with the arrows it really is hard to make out. Without further adieu, here's the view from the bottom: (Sorry, Baby #2, for putting your twig and berries out there for all to see, I hope one day you'll forgive me).

So sorry it took this long for this post, but as you can imagine, it's been quite a day. After the barrage of phone calls to tell our family who was completely busting all morning, I had a lovely migraine that kept me leveled for the most of the day so I had to postpone my own excitement. Absolute elation I should say. I couldn't sleep a wink last night. Not because I wanted today to go one way or the other, I just really wanted to know. With Aidan, it was a joy knowing there was a little boy in there; he had a name and everything, and a little tiny personality. I knew his wakey times and his sleepy times, and he kicked me darn hard. I knew exactly how he was going to turn out and I was right. This one, already, is a bit more demure; very active, but not as boisterous. I think this will turn out to be an asset for him as he battles his big brother. I am just too excited about my little boy having a little boy to play with and grow up with. It just makes me melt thinking about it. Because they're so close together, Aidan will never, ever, have a memory that doesn't include his little brother, and I love that. My best friend's little boys are just a little closer in age than mine will be, and they look like twins. I'm excited to see what this one will look like. And to those in my family, take a look at that profile below! I think I see a little bit of that famous "Hill" overbite!!!!

Actually, these profile sonogram pictures are my very favorite. I just love seeing that tiny nose and head from the side. (Melting again.) And can I just state for the record, that asking a pregnant woman to fill up her bladder so the sonogram can come out much more clear, then making her wait for an hour for the appointment she was on time for is just pure cruelty!? It's even harder to sit and do the pee-pee dance than it is to stand and do the pee-pee dance. FYI. Though the appointment was a busy one, including the sono, the actual doctor's visit, and of course, the weekly butt shot, migraine included, almost everything was good news. The one iffy thing, which I am told is very common, is that my placenta is a little further south than it should be. It's not far enough to be considered "previa" (where it's covering the cervix), but it is further down than is comfortable. But it commonly makes its way northward naturally when the uterus expands, and it already has started making that trek. We will have another sonogram in a month to make completely sure it has done that. I will not worry. Instead, I will pick out nursery decor. (If you're the praying kind, if you could just put a word in for me in your list of prayers every once in a while for the next, oh, say, 20 weeks, I would so appreciate it. Not a night goes by that I don't pray to go another day, another week, another trimester, with this baby. I have resorted to begging. I suppose if the guy above hears a bunch of people asking Him for the same thing, he may be gracious enough to give me a hand and nudge me along to a nice, fat 41 week baby.I've always been a big fan of the "rally".)

Other than that, Aidan didn't quite understand that he's going to have a baby brother, but he does point to my belly when I ask, "Where's the baby?" and say "Dat!" Sometimes he points to my boobs, but I don't blame him. Mommas got a few little bumps to choose from and a little baby can't always discern each bump from the other. Ahhhh. I'm so excited. This is going to be a ride.

Can I Get Some Service Over Here Please?

Independence Day Pics

Hope everyone had a blast on the 4th! We sure did! We headed off to the beach where my best friend and her family were staying and we watched the fireworks from their balcony. It was actually quite a show, without the crowds and the possibility of freaked out children crying because of the noise. Last year, Poops was only about 3 months old and he actually fell asleep in the middle of fireworks that were exploding directly over our heads. This year he actually stayed up until the wee hours of 9:30 pm and loved it, pointing and excitedly yelling "Dat! Dat!" Of course, two minutes after we got in the car, he was asleep. Good times.

The Sweat Moustache

I love pregnancy. I love it not because of the tiny little miracle growing inside my innards, which is wonderful and lovely, but because of the gems you learn about yourself whilst pregnant. Your body does things you never thought it would, much of it uncontrollably. Like belching. Or big brown sunspots on your face because your body is producing more melanin than usual. Bloating. And now, enter here: the sweat moustache. Isn't this a lovely little gem? I was getting ready for our usual "date night" Friday night. Nana was over to babysit and I was running behind of course, so my hair was still wet and I had to dry it. And even though we have central air conditioning to battle the 90-something Florida heat, directing a hot wind at my head for a prolonged period of time makes a pregnant woman who is already emanating the heat from the sun, hotter. Much, much hotter. My husband walked into the bedroom while I had taken a break from the blow dryer to see me wiping my bright red, sweaty face off, which now included that lovely little gem of a sweat moustache. I looked like a distressed hog in the middle of a hot flash and he had to ask me if I was okay. Sure I was. I'm just gross now.

I don't remember when the sweat moustache arrived. I never even realized that I never got the sweat moustache before, until it had arrived and I realized how lucky I had been for all those years for not having it. Its arrival now throws a terrible kink in my process to get ready to go anywhere. I shower, like normal, then become a hot sweaty mess again while drying my hair (which is very long and takes forever) and then have to wipe my disgusting sweaty self off to get dressed and put my make-up on. If I make the mistake of putting my make-up on first, sweaty moustache has no regard whatsoever for what I've put on my face beforehand and it comes right through in ugly little beads and erases whatever progress I had made and I have to start over. Only this time, the makeup doesn't stick. Apologies to the dudes who read my blog, I am sure that picturing a sweaty pregnant woman is an attractive thought for you. But this is my latest fascination and I like to share the love with all of the world. There is nothing like the summer heat to make you forget about any insecurities you had about your body. There's no way I'm wearing a sweater or long sleeves to cover up any arm-fat I think I may have. I am one with the tanktop. And yes, I'm going to wear a bathing suit and go to the beach and the pool. There are plenty of people out there who wear a lot less than me and shouldn't, but what do they care? It's in the name of comfort this summer. And minimizing the sweat moustache as much as possible.

The Pillow Menagerie

The Snoogle pillow is officially out of hiding. The Snoogle is the most wonderful invention for a pregnant woman ever. Yes, it looks really funny when you're sleeping in it. And sure, it's like having a third person in bed with you, but the comfort and support of this pillow makes for one nice, solid night's sleep. You put your head up there at the top loop, and that big long part supports your back, and that bottom loop comes up through your legs to support your belly. And the best part is, if you want to turn over onto your other side, you just flip around so that you're hugging the big long part, and your head still rests on that loopy at the top. Ahhhh. The whole sleeping-on-your-side thing is just a big pain for me. I love sleeping on my stomach and my back, so being ensconced in pillow is the next best thing. No, this isn't a paid advertisement, either. I just love this thing.

Funny, funny Poops. I was on the phone earlier while the little boy was playing on the floor after emptying out one of my cabinets. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and started rubbing his eyes-you know, all the signs of nap-readiness. I was getting off the phone soon, so I just let him keep playing. But instead, he crawled into his room and closed the door. He told me.

Anyway, I hope everyone had a good weekend! I got a wonderful dark wood, teak patio table from Pier 1 for our new, grassy backyard that we put up. Half-price--- sweet! I'm looking at it right now. Except of course, that it doesn't have chairs yet. Those will come soon. But I did just order the red umbrella that will come in this week, does that count? I am buying the chairs separate and I know it's odd buying the whole set piecemeal, but I didn't like the sets that were out there. If I liked the table, I hated the chairs and vice versa. I guess this is why I haven't blogged since Thursday. My stories stink. So I'm going to make myself useful and clean the office out. Happy Monday!