Pregnant Weirdo

I had a dream last night that I was helping Paris Hilton clean out her refrigerator in her backyard. Her mom poked her head out the door and told her she was going to make some Ramen Noodles for her, and she said, "OK! As long as their not the kind manufactured by FOX News!"

Then the loudspeaker came on (in her backyard) and asked for volunteers to work at the hospital, but any volunteers needed to have a "small hip."

????

UMM.

Oh and yes, the dream continued as I was in the top 5 of American Idol but I was going to purposely tank my performance by singing "Love Shack" because I didn't want to win.

Love... In the Blogosphere

I woke up to some serious blog love this morning, what a nice surprise! Stine from A Mother's Home has given me this cute little award and I'm udderly flattered! Thanks, sweetie!! And right back atcha! The best part is, I get to share the love with some of my favorites! So here they are! Mwa!

AnnaMary (I'm in Annaland withdrawl!)

Sparky Duck

Our Story

Don't Call Me Mummy

and of course, Robin !!

It doesn't seem like two years ago.

Sitting at my desk watching the images from Hurricane Katrina flowing endlessly into the newsroom. Completely horrified that this was happening, right here in our country, right before our collective eyes. Absolute chaos. We thought it might happen, but we didn't really think it would. Did we? But when I woke up earlier that morning and turned on the television before my shift hoping that the news was good and that the levees held strong, I saw Brian Williams standing in a puddle of water in the middle of the French Quarter. They hadn't. And the worst was yet to come. Come, it did.

That week, FOX News' Shepard Smith was standing on a bridge where people were wandering around aimlessly trying to find help, shelter, food, water, anything. He was there, a reporter, literally begging the government to respond. Where were they? Where was anyone? There were thousands of people trying to escape the rising water, to the Superdome riddled with filth and crime, people dying outside. Unprepared hospitals. People, children, being plucked from rooftops. Children lost without their families. Homes and lives destroyed. The images were so horrifying that that's the only word I can think of to describe it, even now.

Each tv on each producer's desk has a screen that can watch several satellites worth of video at once of video coming in from all sorts of sources, local Louisiana tv stations, CNN, and FOX networks. No, I wasn't there. But we didn't air everything that came in, and you can believe that what we saw was awful. It's our job to just "turn off" when we're in the middle of a story, and for the most part, we did. We had to. But sometimes you just can't. I saw a producer secretly crying at her desk.

I want to remember everything we saw that day, that week, the weeks that followed, because I don't want to forget the people who died when a system broke down. We were not prepared. No one was prepared. Mistakes were made. People died. And millions of people who lived through it have that terrible story to add to their life experiences.

I believe that when faced with a hurricane, it is each person's responsibility to be prepared themselves. Have a hurricane supply kit ready. Batteries, water, non-perishables, medication, cash, an emergency point person to report to if you are separated from your families, a full tank of gas, clothing, everything you need to survive. Have a plan. Know where your pets are going. Board up. Don't ride out the storm if you aren't prepared to survive it. Leave before the mad rush of people, so you don't get stuck in the traffic jams. Know your travel routes. There are things we must do that we cannot rely on others to do for us in times of emergencies. We must do our part. But even the most prepared people are faced with losing everything. The storms do not discriminate. Our government must do their part, too. When people are dying right in front of our faces, there must be no red tape. It takes a village. For months, even a year afterward, FEMA trailers sat empty while people were still lost and still homeless. This was a true American catastrophe.

A couple weeks after the storm, I had convinced my station to do a walk for Katrina victims. It was called "Hands Across the Gulf." A couple hundred people along with their pets turned out and we donated all the money we raised to the Red Cross, the Humane Society, and United Animal Nations. It was only a few thousand dollars, but it was the best I could do because I had to do something. We had to do something. We're used to bearing the brunt of the hurricanes here in Florida, and now our neighbors across the gulf were feeling it full-force.

I know that even two years later, people's lives are still shattered. So if you have a moment, please keep them in your thoughts on this day, this anniversary, or say a prayer for the people still living this terrible nightmare. And don't forget to prepare. There are still more than two months left of the hurricane season and we know what can happen.

Fodder

Today was one of those news days that made me want to be back in the newsroom again. From Michael Vick to Alberto Gonzales, a local electrical plant explosion, Nick Hogan's car accident here in Clearwater, it was one of those days where the newsroom would have been buzzing. I must remember to always preface statements like these with the fact that bad news does not make me happy, it is just one of those facts that when news is breaking all over the place, people in the newsroom are literally running around like mad trying to figure out the facts, trying to turn around video, trying to get people to different places, phones are ringing off the hook, the bulletins are flying across the wire on the computers, video is flooding in from all the different networks, press conferences are happening, and the adrenaline rush of all of that is always somewhat stimulating. I miss that part.

So what did I do? I was leveled with a migraine for most of the day and thankfully Poops took a long afternoon nap so I snoozed with Serendipity on in the background. Life sure is different.

Well our long "to-do" list is widdling down finally. Hence the reason for my computer absence. My parents have been over and we've arranged our new "library" in our office. It's always been a dream of mine to have a library, which in my house really is just one wall of shelves that we put up, but man is it fabulous! A place to put all our books! All of them! I have a row for "chick-lit", adventures (Harry Potters, Lord of the Rings, Michael Crichtons, John Grishams), cryptology (yes, husband has enough of these to support an entire "section" of them), sports, travel, how-to's, college textbooks, journalism-type stuff, and a sorely lacking "classics" section which I am obsessed with building. Oh, yes, and the purpose of the library/slash/office space is to have a place to put all the crap that is in the future nursery. Really there is a reason for the madness. Eventually we'll start on the nursery. Hopefully before he is born.

Has anyone watched that show "The Pickup Artist" on VH1? I'm dying here. It's a bunch of geeks in a reality show trying to score with the help of some guy code-named "Mystery" who I can't help but call "Chris Angel Mindfreak". Tonight, the geeks are kissing peaches for practice. It's about to come on and I am torn between this ridiculous train wreck and the fact that I will feel dirty and embarrassed watching these tools make fools of themselves. I may have to flip it on and watch it through my fingers for a second before I can't take it anymore and have to change the channel. One week to go till the 3rd trimester begins! I am mentally taking the pregnancy now in increments. When I was at 22 weeks and sparkles began, I thought, ok, let's get to 28 weeks. When that's up, I'll think, ok now to 30 (just to be in the 30's), but now that I'm 27 weeks, I'm thinking only 10 weeks till full-term!

Heads or Tails #2: Luck

This week's Heads or Tails theme is "Luck". And you call it luck, skill, whatever you will, but my longest ride with Lady Luck was in, yes, of all places, Vegas. Our trip didn't start out lucky, however, because our plane was overpacked, we were bumped off the flight and because of it we missed a whole day and a half of our three-day trip through Salt Lake City to see my friends on our way to Vegas. But once we got on the strip, things changed. I didn't do well in Roulette. Or slots. It was when we went off the strip with a friend of my husband's (by the way he was my fiance back then) to a casino with $5 Black Jack. We planted ourselves in our seats from 7pm until about 2 or 3 (????), slogging down vodka and cranberries. I am not sure how much the boys walked away with, but I know I beat them both. I won about 500 bucks! (This is a record for me -- luck is not usually on my side when it comes to winning things).

We were there for New Year's, by the way, and Anna Nicole Smith was the MC at our hotel's nightclub and I had a pink fuzzy hat and boa.

(By the way, head on over to Skittles' Place to join in with us every Tuesday!)

I so wanted to do a tt today

And I would've had a great one. 13 things on my to-do list! But I would rather do a Thursday Thirteen when I have time to visit everyone, and besides, who are we kidding? There's way more than 13 things to be done! However, I am spent. I haven't had any energy whatsoever to do any nesting (unlike last time when I nested so much I tore my cartilage in my knee cleaning the closet. Oh, and it was around this time in my pregnancy too and wasn't it a pretty picture seeing a preggo writhing around and crawling toward the phone (which took 30 minutes) to call for help. Anyway that required surgery. So much fun.) So I had to ask, why on earth am I being robbed of my second trimester second wind that we are all promised? (Maybe someone up above doesn't want me to tear any more cartilage.) But I am told that the butt shots make people tired and that's the biggest complaint and I believe it. But I feel like a loser! I want to nest. I have the desire to nest. But alas, I am not. So now I'm calling in the reinforcements. I have a mental deadline here in my head that goes like this: there are three weeks left before the third trimester. Anything can happen in the third trimester, but what will definitely happen is that whatever energy I do have will be zapped. I've already started to do the pregnant waddle. So wouldn't it be nice to get everything finished in the next couple weeks so I can rest, and God forbid if something happens I'm ready? (Yes, my hospital bag is already halfway packed and will be done before the weekend is over, but this time I want to be prepared for anything that comes our way. This is me, not taking any chances!) Anyway, the reinforcements are here: my good old mumsy and pop. I love them! They're here today and tomorrow and we're plugging away at all the things I need repaired and removed, so I can clean out that second bedroom. I am so thankful for their help. It didn't seem too bad until we started it all, and now I am officially overwhelmed. Things always look worse before they look better, I know. But that's where I am and that's what I'm doing. If you have any motivation vibes, feel free to send them my way!

The Jeep's Last Ride

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." - Semisonic, "Closing Time".Today is the beginning of a new Tuesday meme invented by Skittles, who we all know from the wonderful "Skittles' Place." It's called "Heads or Tails" and the first theme for the first installment is "Beginnings". Which is fitting, because today is the first day, a beginning if you will, of a new life, a "me" without my Jeep. Now you may say, "So what? A car is a car!" And that may be so. But really, it's not the car. It's the experience. It's the period of life that is over for me, while a new one is beginning. The Jeep wasn't just a dream car for me, it was a symbol.

Four years ago, I was at a crossroads in my life. I was working at Fox News in New York where I had been for 5 years. I loved the company, I loved my co-workers, I loved my friends, but I no longer liked my job. I am known for the two-year itch; if I don't change jobs, I must add or change responsibilities somehow (hopefully through a promotion) sometime around the two year mark. That had happened for me pretty easily up until that point, but now there was no where else for me to go. So I started sending out resumes. Evan and I were dating long distance, so I thought my options were open. I could find another job or even head back to Florida for grad school. But when Evan and I spoke, it was clear that we weren't ready to take it to the next level yet, so moving back to Florida didn't seem like a good idea. I got a call back from the Associated Press, for where else, but across the country in their Salt Lake City bureau. In Utah. The job was perfect. And when I went for the interview and stepped off the plane with the mountain ranges all around me and the sparkling lights of the little city sitting in the middle of it, I fell in love. When I got back to New York, I must have known what my decision was, but I cried all night because I knew I would have to say goodbye to New York City, and when you move up there to "make it" and then decide to move, there is a little piece of you that thinks maybe you're a failure for having to leave. But I packed up my studio apartment on 49th street, said goodbye to my neighborhood, my job, my co-workers, my friends, my favorite bars, my corner deli, my favorite restaurants, and I boarded a plane with my cat and headed out west.

And I bought a Jeep. A yummy, green, 4-wheel-drive Jeep Wrangler. I spent hours and hours just driving around Utah with my music blaring, having no idea where I was going. Just to explore. It was gorgeous out there. The Jeep got me safely down a frozen mountain after covering an avalanche story until midnight. Took me camping in the red rock canyons of Moab with my new friends.

Took me to Ogden where I ran my first 5k with Evan. Took me and my cousins to see the Great Salt Lake, which is that beautiful mirror you see behind us.

At the end of that very eventful year, where I learned all there was to know (at the time) about myself and my ability to start over in a completely new place, Evan proposed. And that Jeep took me, my cat, and all my stuff all the way across the country again, back to Florida. We were ready.

I hadn't a clue when I got into my lease where I'd be in 4 years from then. I am shocked when I look back and see that I have moved, gotten married, had a couple jobs, bought a house and had a kid. So when I turned in my Jeep, I had a few tears. Not because I am unhappy now. Quite the opposite. That Jeep has been there with me when I discovered myself. When I cried listening to "Here Without You" by Three Doors Down while missing Evan. When I just went and sat in the back of my Jeep, taking pictures of my feet, pondering life while looking out across a reservoir with the snowcaps behind it.

And now the Jeep, and the symbol of my identity, has been replaced with a big, blue shiny minivan, a symbol of my new identity. A beginning of my new phase of life. Where will I be when this one's paid off in a few years? I don't know. All I know is this: I have no regrets.

Vacation Pics

I finally found the camera cord so I could upload our vacation pics (it was hiding behind a couch cushion-the spider probably took it.) So here are the highlights, albeit two weeks later. :)
The first one is the view from our room. It was raining, of course. Good for sod at home, bad for beach vacation. But I got to read a lot of Harry Potter while stuck indoors while not getting skin cancer from too much sun (I get terrible burns). Anyway, why wouldn't it rain for at least half of the beach vacation? It's Murphy's Law.

Here's Poops' little girlfriend who stayed down at the other end of the balcony from us, she was the cutie with the wagon. They kept giving each other kisses when they first met and holding hands walking up and down the balcony. Too cute. This one though, he looks like, "What the heck is happening??"

I have a million kooplazillion pictures of Poops with his new little wagon but I chose the blurry one. The blurry makes me laugh. It is blurry because because he is literally zooming around the place at warp speed dragging this thing around and I couldn't get a non-blurry one until he was at a complete stop, which wasn't very often.
I love this picture of him at the beach. This is also the photo where I thought, "Wow! What a cute picture that is!" Followed by a panicked "Crap! He is much closer to the water than my little lens shows!" Followed by a pregnant, non-flattering, bathing-suit sprint. And you know how I feel about those.

Magical Baby

I'll continue Pottermania gladly with our weekly baby size update, which happens to be 13 1/2 inches, the size of this very special wand belonging to Professor Snape that I found online. Which means, magically, three more weeks until the beginning of the third trimester! Woohoo!And might I take this opportunity while I am at it, to say what an awesome book number 7 turned out to be! Action-packed from the very first page! My only regret is that I had to read it when I had little spurts of time, but boy would I have enjoyed it even more if I could sit there and read it for 10 hours straight without having to put it down and obsess over what was about to happen until I could pick it up again. Great book! Ms. Rowling has truly outdone herself this time! Feel free to air all your spoilers now, I finally know them all!

FAMILY ANNOUNCEMENT!

My loving sister, the one from Old Man Hancock after just over one year of marriage, has announced to the family, that she... has just given birth to A NEW BLOG! Hahaha! Betcha thought I was gonna say something else! Since the focus has changed just a bit now that her hubby is home from sunny Iraq, she's got a new URL over at Life as a Corps Wife, so hop on over there and pay her a nice housewarming, and while you're at it, you can wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! YAY ANNA MARY YOU'RE BACK! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! LOVE YOU!

Intruder!

I must literally be eminating "Come to me!" from my very being when it comes to attracting spiders. I do not understand this at all. I am grossed out beyond belief right now and with everything that touches me, I jump and wipe it away quickly for fear that it is an eight-legged freak. Imagine my horror this morning, all sticky-eyed and barely awake at 7 a.m., wearily watching the Today Show as I watch Poops playing on the floor after my husband leaves for work, when I turn my head and get a glimpse of something large and black, moving quickly along the arm of my sofa. I realize quickly this is a huge spider. Almost the size of my palm. I am shuddering as I write this. I want to puke and run at the same time, but alas, I am the adult and protector in this scenario, and cannot call for my husband. The travesty! I am the biggest arachnophobe I know, and last summer we had to spray for what else, but spiders! I must admit we have had quite a long running without a large spider sighting, but still. Why? Why why why??????? I long for answers as I reflect on this terrible irony! So I grab the nearest flip-flop, immediately glad that I am the "leave-my-shoes-around" type. I must strike quickly because the very thought of losing this insect betwixt the very cushions where I nap and sit (quite often) and having to look for it (and even worse, maybe never find it!) is even more terrible than having to actually kill it. So I smash it quickly. Wipe up the legs and the body (gag! puke!) and dispose of them in the garbage can, that I will not touch again because I know what is in it. And what comes afterward, but a tiny tinge of regret for having killed a little living thing, followed by the thought of "I'm sorry, but I do not know your motives!" as if I am speaking to the spider itself, as an intruder. What if it is the biting kind? I cannot take chances here.

But now I have that terrible, skeevy feeling, as if everything around me is moving or crawling. And I dread the thought of having to clean every crumb and move every tiny thing that could possibly be harboring a spider. What's worse than seeing one? Of course, it's the thought that there may be more. I cannot live with this possibility. I must clean and call the bug people and pick everything in sight up off the floor. But alas, I am paralyzed by fear of moving something and having a large, black, leggy body staring up at me from underneath. Oh, if only I were "one" with all of God's creatures.

Thursday Thirteen #31

Oy I have to figure out how to un-skeeve myself out after killing the LARGEST spider I've ever seen crawling up the arm of my couch (ugh I want to throw up just thinking about it!!! Blech!!!) and now I have to try to stop imagining one crawling into my hair from behind me while doing my TT, so here's my lovely distraction:

TT: THE "LIFE TO-DO LIST" VERSION

1. Watch a shuttle lift-off, live and in-person from Kennedy Space Center. None of this "let's see if we can see it from the backyard"-stuff, which, like yesterday didn't work out at all because of the clouds.

2. Go to Ireland. I've so always wanted to go, and with a last name like O'Sullivan, doesn't it just seem silly not to?

3. Take a cruise to Alaska.

4. Go whale watching. Maybe I can do that on the cruise and knock out two in one.

5. Go camping and rafting. I've done these two before, but my husband hasn't, so I want to make sure it's on the list so I get to it again with him.

6. Volunteer for disaster relief. I've raised money by organizing a walk, and I've donated to disasters, but it's just different being on the front lines. Helping. Really helping. This one I'd want the kids to do, too.

7. Go to Australia.

8. And New Zealand. With all that plush green country.

9. And Germany again. I went once in college for an overseas study but I am dying to go back.

10. Show my husband and babies the Indian Reservation where my relatives live. I want him to meet my Godmother and my cousins and feel the spiritual connection and wholeness that I feel when I am there.

11. Watch in person: the World Cup and the summer and winter Olympics. Preferably in another country. If I just do one of these, I'll be happy.

12. Learn how to knit booties. (By November).

13. Open a tea room. And this one is a must.

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!

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Stating the Obvious #355

When something rottenly odiferous penetrates the air from where you are standing, which may or may not happen to be all the way across the kitchen, and you realize that the smell is coming from a tiny butt in a tiny bed behind a closed door around the corner (quite a long way from where you are standing) gather up your Haz-Mat gear. It's going to be bad.

Pregnancy Paranoia

I guess it is better to be safe than sorry. Of course, I'm finding it hard to find the line between concerned and paranoid. Around 1 yesterday afternoon, I started having terrible cramps. Then, lower back pain. It was terrible. Then the cramps would get worse and let up, not in any pattern, but the feeling was similar to the contractions I had after my water broke with Poops. So when a couple hours goes by and the cramping is still terrible, I call the doctor, who wants me to come in to triage, just in case. Thankfully, everything was fine. Baby's heartbeat-check. Cervix-nice and closed as it should be. What was it? I don't know. I have no idea. I guess it's another one of those regular aches and pains of pregnancy, like the charley horse I've had in my left calf since Sunday. But I can't help feeling bad about my inner panic. On the other hand, I know I couldn't have sat there thinking, "what if this is labor?" all night if the pain continued. Well, today, I will head back into the doctor for my glucose and sono, a normally scheduled appointment and I'm sure that will go fine. Ugh. I am turning into a cyberchondriac.

Baby's a Wiener!

Well, it's that time of the week again, time to measure the little guy. We're at, oh, about 12 inches long this week, so I figured what's a better comparison than a foot-long hot dog, one of my favorite all-American, baseball game-going cuisines??!! So, in honor of my little man, and the beer I cannot have, here's Bud Light's tribute to none other than, "Mr. Foot Long Hot Dog Inventor". It really is a hoot if you need a chuckle. Cheers, little foot long fetus!

Mr. Foot Long Hot Dog Inventor

Sun, Sand, and Wagons

We're back from sunny Sarasota and I don't know what to do first, blog or finish reading Harry Potter! I'm almost done so don't tell me anything still! (Lalalalalalalal--I can't hear you!) Our little mini-break was quite lovely, I must say, and the Gulf was much rougher than it is up near me. It was Atlantic-rough. I loved it! It made me want to bust out a boogie board and get moving! Only drawback was trying to wade into the water whilst the giant waves crashed into my big belly. I had to throw in the towel a couple of times and take my sad, rejected by the ocean-self back to my blanket. And gone are the days when Poops would sit nicely on the beach blanket and shovel sand into his mouth. Now I'm chasing him up and down the beach. Once while taking a picture of him heading toward the white sea foam, I realized that hmmmm....the lens makes him look much farther from the water than he really is-- which, of course, sent me into a full-out pregnant, bathing-suit-wearing sprint to snatch him up before he reached the ocean. Close call. (Have I mentioned my extreme aversion to running in a bathing suit? Very few people can pull this off.)

Aidan met an older little woman, 20-month-old Ella (Evan called her "the cougar"), who was staying down the hall from us. Oh, that little summer love happened so fast and was full of laughter, kisses, and tears. Sigh. Young love. (Ha!) He's getting quite affectionate now, giving everything and everyone kisses and batting his little boy eyes at all the ladies. Unfortunately, Ella had something he really wanted and having the two of them play together was next to impossible. Enter, the wagon. Once Aidan laid eyes on this little gem, his love affair with Ella was over. We went out to Target to get him one, but even when he and Ella were on the beach with both of their wagons in tow, he still wanted hers. Oh well. A mom just can't win.

My mother-in-law and I left husband at home to head out for tea one day, which was, in short, DELICIOUS!! A little British tea room and I tried real Devon cream for real for the first time because apparently I have been duped at every other tea room visit I have ever made! This was the real stuff. If, one day, I were to, say, open a tea room of my own one day, I would opt for the real stuff. Simple as that.

It did rain quite a bit which hampered our beach-going, but since it's been "rainy season" for two months and there hasn't been a drop of rain until this past week, I suppose it was really because someone trying to tell me that I don't need any more sun and that I have to get some suspect moles checked. Which I fully intend on doing.

Besides all that, I am finally getting some calls back on some freelance writing gigs! Yay! I was starting to believe that maybe I didn't have as much experience as I thought I did and that my resume was crap. I must have sent out dozens of resumes over the past month and when the phone doesn't ring and the inbox is only full of junk from Babycenter and Red Envelope, a girl really starts to wonder. But I got a little gig copy editing and a couple other opportunities abound, so I may just dig this little "work from home" thing. We shall see. So that's been the week! Happy Sunday! Got some butt shots to look forward to tomorrow! Hello left cheek!