tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-340181802024-03-12T20:25:55.416-04:00The Mis-Adventures of Captain PoopyChristie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.comBlogger342125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-86158878386442254002008-02-22T16:28:00.002-05:002008-02-22T16:35:16.497-05:00Extreme Makeover Blog EditionIt's time to retire The Mis-Adventures of Captain Poopy. But I'm not going away! I'm just giving the blog a makeover. It's been an adventure for me, too, but it's time to change the focus now that there is more than one Captain Poopy. (In fact, mini-Poops could very well get the title "Captain" for all of his little baby explosions and subsequent outfit changes.)<br /><br />So my return to the blogosphere won't be here, it'll be at my new home, <a href="http://www.babytealeaves.blogspot.com/">Baby Tea Leaves</a>. It's not quite finished yet, but it is up and running and we're getting there. So please stop on by! I've missed everyone so much!Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-90759344782386436282007-12-19T13:27:00.000-05:002007-12-19T13:49:17.157-05:00Captains Log #1The ship has officially sailed. I'm finally taking a breather. But a quick one, because the little one's gonna be nipping at the boob any second. I remember now why people always say God makes you forget the bad stuff about the whole labor/newborn thing because if we remembered it all we might choose not to continue to procreate. Not that I'm not loving life right now, it's just hard to see through the fog that is sleeplessness, sore boobs, patched "parts" (and by the way--every girl part I have has some sort of ointment-slash-pad on it) and unwashed hair. But seeing that I remember very little about Aidan's labor pain and infancy and as I look at those tiny toes poking out from underneath the blanket in the bouncy chair, I know that this too shall pass.<br /><br />Little Ryan isn't latching well. It got so bad that I had to call in the milk maid support people to come help me. A lactation consultant sat with me for hours yesterday looking at what is happening, and apparently the little guy just doesn't want to open up wide enough. We have spent hours and hours trying. I hit my breaking point over the weekend when Evan walked in and saw me bawling during one of our terrible nursing sessions. He sat down and immediately tried to console me and start helping me fix things, and with a very caring and helpful look said, "Do you want to call a lactologist first thing in the morning?"<br /><br />A lactologist! I stopped crying for a second and burst out into hysterical laughter while he just sat there with a blank look on his face and I know he was thinking, "what on earth did I say?" Leave it to him for some comic relief. That's why I married him.<br /><br />So it's been one day and he's still not latching perfectly but I already see an improvement. I am so thankful. Needless to say, it has been an incredibly busy couple of weeks. Evan was home with me the first week and my mom was here for about a week and a half. This week was the first time flying solo and it's been surprisingly nice and peaceful. I took my first trip out with both boys on Monday (just a quickie to Target but a trial outing nonetheless) and it went smoothly. We went out Christmas shopping this morning. Of course the real test will come when Poops has a complete meltdown while we're out, but so far he's been pretty good.<br /><br />This has been a trying time for him, apparently. Unfortunately, he is having a bit of a difficult time getting used to another Poops in the house, he has done some lashing out, he gets this crazed look on his face, the pursed lips and evil devil eyes and I think "Where did my angel go!!!!" It has been somewhat of a struggle. I feel like I definitely didn't do enough research on this ahead of time. He has learned to turn on the breastpump, however, which is both funny and not funny at the same time. So they're both napping and I think I will too. Sleep is just too rare these days. I hope everyone's doing well and having a happy holiday season!! May everyone get their shopping done before Christmas Eve!Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-16359519261094836742007-12-02T23:01:00.000-05:002007-12-03T12:38:11.502-05:00We're Home!Oh, the birth story this time around is quite different from my the birth story of my first. Thank you for all the wonderful thoughts and well wishes. I can't believe I'm not pregnant anymore, it feels so weird! In a good way of course. So it wasn't quite the labor and delivery I had in mind, but the coming home part was nothing short of a miracle. I have lots to write, but my chotch hurts and I'm beat. But here are pictures from the weekend.<br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">So here's what three hours of pushing looks like. Yes three hours. He didn't get the memo that the second is supposed to be easier. Here he is: Ryan James, 7 lbs. 8 oz.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwU7btokVbjWbuWC7axS2-d9NLb8V7QKZ67mkOxXVz0Qs_nlBo6j9fHZy86R4IS-i50yWi5SpehjHwUy1YEuOK-oVUiFbOwZrfNTMVw6QDabW4Av6uaCI_TwE8Iv-DjRIYXPGew/s1600-r/20071130_0011.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139592949475779906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMpre46cMSWTOPt93McGXsY1iXQNYpFfaV_0TCUAN9MGdp4vFYgu13A9YYDR0rz9pWgNluSdWpzWDvxOIUOw8W81_MSWJbk1MP016MaEeg3hFPyaIs3rgzIcadGMIYAr1XcOWvjA/s320/20071130_0011.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center">Poops meeting his baby brother and loving him.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBmt9LiUoW52bbWDgH7a76ctYArYqvLUQYcm4ngN3kU3dxyVr2YH2u335RqD9YVzR0wYfyPaa7KOiQQDagiqdxkXiYrj6nKN6LmrioHfHS_38D_Bh4437JqYpQrN0-oroBJGlow/s1600-r/20071130_0030.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139592953770747218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_N6c4TnFPD9Nwf5Zw5beIu2KXW8HjCJjBVX3xyZq2tr6up9_JO4N87RAFB7Me4Jczb_MFkM1qqA6emkzXt734UV8hs9620AE1X1iTlN36adqdSMVX_DKUnxqij037hBPQhDa97A/s320/20071130_0030.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a></p>A sleepy boy.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLBZDEK1S8cqGSrcVPu5US6oLOf5KBKdB1nL-57biIjZnJYrJouFwkwaa_w554vkVbDEZrH6TpSknmyaR7wTcy4tElgSCN2UMG_cH7oNKH0VOvnbQvPLXx_DNsheL0xlJzr9BNg/s1600-r/20071202_0047.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139592966655649138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjro3jI4YI8e_BAUHsc96o3EpHxPqQL65mfBfyAx49Rs4y7NmKXMIavC_xWIfc4oGTjrixBxR6gA0UMvt4VucaaXW-SBp2IPPuv9l6PVrdxFyGTQfYfNsF2EKvYlhIc82bJRQvAKQ/s320/20071202_0047.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a></p>Going home day.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDcVmoGgzFe4H9QiEcDoq5j0W44pob1IAgEZLVr52WGeBumBa5cgBRIusinIPdLwzjMZa5WFwwVG-ZFn12mX4UCBwqlnDeZy2enfPjNQZawv8DF4UyRgyA0FYTF8a7eSTsQrfjfA/s1600-r/20071202_0074.JPG"></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139605443535644114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUNfl8LrbAskTdpltlxxajhYGiV5vSrU36lCVqz7P_xon9D2T-gIuo12ZeA48ezUqtBikE_4c11R6ZO4NBT67cMAKQ4UB_lLQxhLUvri6QRVebBPPp4VslKGQQMSO7sTdmG5Wtg/s320/20071202_0045.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">Does life get any better than this really?<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139605439240676802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLz2JTFJRG_9uwR7n95rA8isSV1c7rFtunW_b3xwj8YtHRHbRxNbxkIklLNDndc35p83NMxCr-DSSk1GlaCUKxDFf3wmMfhVypssX4Zp_42PNrNw1ILN2XGe6FRdsFrlyiGG_gLg/s320/20071202_0075.JPG" border="0" />Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-59349527282982812012007-11-30T01:28:00.000-05:002007-11-30T01:30:21.818-05:00I've sprung a leak!My water broke! My water broke! (Yelled in the tone of Jerry Seinfeld's dad yelling 'my wallet's gone!' when he couldn't find his wallet at the doctor's office.)<br /><br />We're headed in. See ya on the flip side! Wish us luck!<br />XOChristie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-26779594594797409562007-11-26T09:35:00.000-05:002007-11-26T14:31:18.840-05:00She's gonna blow!<div><div><div>Would you look at that ticker! ZERO day left! We made it!! At last check last Wednesday I was already 4 centimeters, I guess the "Braxton Hicks" I've been having have actually been productive. The problem is, I had them again (faker!) on Thanksgiving and again last night, ten minutes apart (faker! faker!) but they eventually tapered off and I fell asleep. Again. I worry though that if these sporatic contractions are actually working, that I'll be driving down the road at 8 centimeters and have the baby on the side of the road. What to do! I'm about as big as a house now and haven't felt much like writing or doing anything much for that matter, so Happy Belated Thanksgiving everyone!! I hope everyone had a wonderful dinner, wonderful bird, and wonderful family time!</div><div></div><br /><div>We had a good old fashioned Publix Thanksgiving dinner, didn't really make anything except for a couple a sides and a pie. We just re-heated an already-cooked turkey and all the fixins from Publix and we had mostly paper plates and cups. I know, so very redneck sounding but the key was to lay low this time and if there's any year to do it, it's this one for me. We'll dust off the china next year. So now the waiting. I have to say, if I had to choose between early arrival and waiting, I'll wait. Thank God my little guy hung in there. I figure while I'm feeling brazen I'll post a picture of the alien belly.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137232611936418306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-y2xqjFxdPd5IFTdw-cEP4WBWF2gCxnbPpR82h7whI4rC00ZnuGTkPAPtJV3OAAl0239Z-RBOr7g4g7qiOO5LT9TEwuldF34Wf7WTHKKOR_9tSLFeH4UF-e4j0fVGr4IUhiQlqw/s320/belly.jpg" border="0" /><br />And we'll offset that crazyness with pictures of the nursery. I did end up going with Dr. Seuss and it was so fun! I still want a small rug for the center of the room and I still want to paint a small little something over the crib, but other than that, it's done!<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137232783735110162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39lK7eq62vb1zdgFutsFRfl6uouz9k1HtFB7O3Uq47Vi7s_G94BSAqUVaPxkp5FOb9KDCwYGJPwFtWw5bXUfb7tp6wUY5NzlMDuEBXltlpCZ_p04UhHkNcC9niwyUYtXiiQc5tQ/s320/seussnursery.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MKNwdq6Y2oUxcXAA-BvluISrkzZGoyQeE6MX8rPe_P4ZKmSZQr3Lh5NqKNe3KrJoKSfzU9sk0qWdKFtliCGS9oc_JSFMZvOd0Gu_sIZtP_udbyTUMN-sMijDfp-oBOKFgcw8ug/s1600-h/seussnursery2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137232788030077474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MKNwdq6Y2oUxcXAA-BvluISrkzZGoyQeE6MX8rPe_P4ZKmSZQr3Lh5NqKNe3KrJoKSfzU9sk0qWdKFtliCGS9oc_JSFMZvOd0Gu_sIZtP_udbyTUMN-sMijDfp-oBOKFgcw8ug/s320/seussnursery2.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNM8UffKryu-17x0kY6fmg7Jv1qtki43XTJXwvspxEnAe-GUo9F6gSRXZ5wpyH0wnGt3iE7I0c_UGer4k-GnRgAPqK7oSEj7yrmNUlnzNXilGf6nz4quIrcWtM7mFxufrhAHJZQ/s1600-h/seussnursery1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137232788030077490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNM8UffKryu-17x0kY6fmg7Jv1qtki43XTJXwvspxEnAe-GUo9F6gSRXZ5wpyH0wnGt3iE7I0c_UGer4k-GnRgAPqK7oSEj7yrmNUlnzNXilGf6nz4quIrcWtM7mFxufrhAHJZQ/s320/seussnursery1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div></div></div>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-3193706232565493952007-11-17T15:26:00.000-05:002007-11-17T15:44:20.285-05:00Family portrait<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXBBdJMMpKDopvSTFQGJn8ieJY3O4BrxeSTqUrjNwyJyAa-kDkgup6dInQ-Ta3bcOapBk8dfFXXDv0KIGVR4b1vEwcCh-4JRqvEfiHdYEvbxCuOIrYctkqZ4YrUuydChrTb6KbQ/s1600-h/punkinpatch.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133909781294235762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXBBdJMMpKDopvSTFQGJn8ieJY3O4BrxeSTqUrjNwyJyAa-kDkgup6dInQ-Ta3bcOapBk8dfFXXDv0KIGVR4b1vEwcCh-4JRqvEfiHdYEvbxCuOIrYctkqZ4YrUuydChrTb6KbQ/s320/punkinpatch.jpg" border="0" /></a> It's a few weeks after we made it to the pumpkin patch but I was so excited about it this year because last year Poops was teensy and the pumpkin patch meant nothing to him. But this year, he had a blast running around in the pumpkins. We ended up carving the pumpkins a week before Halloween which was nothing short of disastrous. First, the Poops Pumpkin, which was of the smaller variety was too hard to carve. You couldn't even get a knife in it. We got as far as carving off the top, but drawing on the face. We call it "Sylar Pumpkin" (which makes sense if you're familiar with Heroes and what the villain Sylar does to his victims).<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133911490691219602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzWd6W5eJd7KuOpdV8znxttTWsYc7nayvPXk3dNt0-syyrpm6yBZEuljbeffkVfcTUijuUDMk46YU4l2adg3Ltd2ZOZaXVofmm0-pPwRycDBW-wNnypDAn9zGEw1i3quSbh7WsQ/s320/sylar+pumpkin.jpg" border="0" />Anyway, we successfully carved the Momma and Daddy pumpkins which were very large, and we used a tiny gourd for the tiny baby and put the whole family out on the wall in front of our house. Of course, it hadn't rained in months, but it rained the night I put out the pumpkins and two days later we had pumpkin mush running down the wall. The pumpkins began caving in a day later and sadly, never even made it to Halloween. Oh well! Note to self: put out pumpkins the day before Halloween.Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-64734941731123823312007-11-14T15:12:00.000-05:002007-11-14T15:36:48.062-05:00Prayers for Preemies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEf396HPZO6oGXyg14F2OQctiBZiw9HRSjwVH8sdV86yb2i9ZzEUVemN5kt14yrvNBcjkSzjLYBDnnDZsgxGImQRWShuC7shd4SPOf7Bf46UnRYoLq-OLPPXUD7Vf6mYNsPSlkLg/s1600-h/IMG_1151.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132797141521921730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEf396HPZO6oGXyg14F2OQctiBZiw9HRSjwVH8sdV86yb2i9ZzEUVemN5kt14yrvNBcjkSzjLYBDnnDZsgxGImQRWShuC7shd4SPOf7Bf46UnRYoLq-OLPPXUD7Vf6mYNsPSlkLg/s320/IMG_1151.JPG" border="0" /></a> <div>I can't let this month go by without mentioning that again it is Prematurity Awareness month this month. Ironically for me, or God granted, it is also the same month that I am will be having a full-term baby. Something that at one point in my life I thought would never ever happen. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God and all my angels for the people, the love, and the beauty in my life. Especially for my little preemie and his little brother who will grace our lives soon.</div><br /><div></div><div>And as I reflect on Prematurity Awareness month, I think about the dear friends and family I have who also have preemies, or once were preemies themselves. I am saddened that millions of other families have and will endure this experience. That a mother must experience the pain and the overwhelming guilt that, for whatever reason, her body didn't hold out for the whole length of pregnancy. That a mother has to fear for the life of her precious baby for however long. That a mother won't get to hold or see that precious little face when it joins this world. That a baby must endure pain and surgery, arriving too early for its little body to exist without it. That a baby must spend its first hours, days, or months alone, in a tiny isolette, without being held or comforted by its parents. I mourn for these families' pain and their personal losses, whether it's a baby or the experience of having a joyful birth experience. I pray that the mommies will realize and accept one day that it was not their fault. I pray that one day we will find out why more babies are coming into this world too early and that one day we can stop it. All of these families are in my prayers this month and every month, every day. Please say a prayer for them today.</div>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-46890544840058760942007-11-12T21:13:00.000-05:002007-11-12T20:40:34.574-05:00Confessions of a pregnant wifeThe sexiest thing I've heard from my husband in a long time:<br /><br />"So, after we put Poops to bed... " (puts his arm around me while standing in kitchen and says lovingly), "I'll run a mop through here."<br /><br />This more than excited me. I wish I were kidding.Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-51178722687146302322007-11-11T21:16:00.001-05:002007-11-11T21:24:12.033-05:00Still no babyAnd I really didn't expect one, except that for a second time this week he has kept me up for hours and hours with contractions. He had me so convinced that I started my "labor project" which is baking chocolate chip cookies. The rule is, start the cookies and when they start burning that means it's time to head to the hospital. From 2:30 in the afternoon contractions came regularly, anywhere from 15 minutes to 5 minutes apart, but not consistently 5 minutes apart. So at 8:30 when they got the teensiest bit stronger and about 8 minutes apart, I started baking. I finished baking. I finished watching a movie. I had showered and dried my hair. We cleaned and finished packing. Everything is by the door. I got tired. Fell asleep around 1. Woke up at 9 this morning and not a single contraction for the rest of the day. Faker! Faker faker faker! So now I have rebought chocolate chips and added a package of brownies for good measure which I fully expect to bake while this little guy fakes me out a few more times and my husband and I will gain 20 pounds each from fake labor.Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-78153244152832252142007-11-11T21:05:00.000-05:002007-11-11T21:13:48.462-05:00The Pooping PlaceGuess it's time to start thinking about potty training. If you look really closely near the chair you'll see a little boy thinking real hard.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_5k8KMVs5u_kzjuXKMfqf_MTb3oAvkdT1EScjIW8tUuMFzFxTWk3k1ybjE1BM0zL05nPRsl32gTEGA3RD6FQYy_PQ3nRrvVev-B3AgUsJ54wzHNUx5hE2ts0yilNiJ_ud7RgBw/s1600-h/20071104_0017.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131770789562019490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_5k8KMVs5u_kzjuXKMfqf_MTb3oAvkdT1EScjIW8tUuMFzFxTWk3k1ybjE1BM0zL05nPRsl32gTEGA3RD6FQYy_PQ3nRrvVev-B3AgUsJ54wzHNUx5hE2ts0yilNiJ_ud7RgBw/s320/20071104_0017.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja64BxUTRw7rqIwNTaEQfBsQ6q6ErKyiXpnABtdWcdqKu7ymgcbrp2rJepW-79bWC2yzyxyuNFcVoezI77bQtom_tHt3L2z3GLy2Jfz19Nd_nTy4CgdCsFWeYBD4uFJ6qgufK11w/s1600-h/20071104_0015.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131770536158949010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja64BxUTRw7rqIwNTaEQfBsQ6q6ErKyiXpnABtdWcdqKu7ymgcbrp2rJepW-79bWC2yzyxyuNFcVoezI77bQtom_tHt3L2z3GLy2Jfz19Nd_nTy4CgdCsFWeYBD4uFJ6qgufK11w/s320/20071104_0015.JPG" border="0" /></a> Yes, he's doing exactly what you think he's doing. I recognize the pattern now. Apparently a boy needs his privacy.</div>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-10869789261018029062007-11-09T08:59:00.000-05:002007-11-09T09:07:38.798-05:00Update-Still nothingWe thought Thursday was going to be it. I had contractions from 8 pm until about 2 in the morning, but they tapered off and I went to bed. So, nothing yet. Just waiting now. Maybe I will get that 41 weeks I have asked for! Of all the weeks of pregnancy, this one has been the biggest roller coaster. I have never had so much energy and so little energy from hour to hour. One minute I feel like I will literally fall over from tiredness. So tired I don't want to even take the energy to open my mouth and make chewing motions to eat. Then so energetic that I'm racing around finishing thank you cards, the nursery and laundry. I feel like I am going crazy. My mom has been here, so that has been such a huge help. Happy Friday!Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-66462746571384666392007-11-05T00:00:00.000-05:002007-11-04T20:55:58.018-05:00WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!<a href="http://www.jograham.com/animgall/holiday/party/partyjo/women/jofetti2.gif"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.jograham.com/animgall/holiday/party/partyjo/women/jofetti2.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div>Guess what today is?</div><div>It's time to celebrate, we're full term today! FULL TERM! WE MADE IT! Now, I was pretty excited about making it to a full nine months, but all the way to full term is just a dream. I'm going to log off and pinch myself. If only I could give this little baby a high-five. </div></div></div></div></div>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-72836460231693300492007-11-03T09:35:00.000-04:002007-11-03T09:43:49.538-04:00If I Only Had a Brain....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iePlif9H5SZlyS64iTHQ6Puv4CVrkXUERn-7ZWiFrHTsQEJEU_N-hxQjzYc41Sldageu0HgVK7ffEk6aZyyYZnc0gP5-Qw4rWIbP-_Fo77fxMcsCLG7xJ3bpa_XiUkKuS8M26A/s1600-h/20071031_0001.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128608523820585298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iePlif9H5SZlyS64iTHQ6Puv4CVrkXUERn-7ZWiFrHTsQEJEU_N-hxQjzYc41Sldageu0HgVK7ffEk6aZyyYZnc0gP5-Qw4rWIbP-_Fo77fxMcsCLG7xJ3bpa_XiUkKuS8M26A/s320/20071031_0001.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMtI2j2gqMCMlYf1k3wqojnpJ10dPzC_SXp2H7KxVJ6fQgbX2RaHcoxTsR5p0jMPJJeEGbJp_NaJRSKbc6Vpv9LJNykHr5eZ9koXz2XBn-1Fnbx3imrmYMQp4TRpYS_xoKudwdg/s1600-h/20071031_0005.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128608545295421794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMtI2j2gqMCMlYf1k3wqojnpJ10dPzC_SXp2H7KxVJ6fQgbX2RaHcoxTsR5p0jMPJJeEGbJp_NaJRSKbc6Vpv9LJNykHr5eZ9koXz2XBn-1Fnbx3imrmYMQp4TRpYS_xoKudwdg/s320/20071031_0005.JPG" border="0" /></a> Here's Poops on Halloween as a scarecrow. He's wearing a costume made by my best friend's mother, she did such a great job on it! Isn't that the life, getting carted around and getting candy thrown at you!<br /><div></div>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-44052897510960063442007-10-31T00:00:00.000-04:002007-10-30T20:59:05.198-04:00HAPPY HALLOWEENIE!I was trying to think, how on earth can I incorporate my belly into my costume this year? And then I came up with this:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBinCrkF3_i4KicBykgqCno7HHB6uq6sZzyrwL_QixWrXG93arkNoLVMy3hJQygNCA5IQkp2P2t0OkzBB8awP2Sb6tvgFVZcGy5oOIUZf144s3SqsmboB3OF5Mr0hMinIbj2AMWg/s1600-h/baconeggs.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127296020469633330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBinCrkF3_i4KicBykgqCno7HHB6uq6sZzyrwL_QixWrXG93arkNoLVMy3hJQygNCA5IQkp2P2t0OkzBB8awP2Sb6tvgFVZcGy5oOIUZf144s3SqsmboB3OF5Mr0hMinIbj2AMWg/s320/baconeggs.JPG" border="0" /></a>So we went to a Halloween party dressed as breakfast, which took a lot of coercing my husband (even though, if you ask me, wearing two strips of bacon over a black shirt and pants is really the easiest costume to wear for a non-costume-wearer ever). Poops is going as a scarecrow this year and I'm trying to teach him how to say "trick or treat". We've been practicing, but all he seems to come out with is: "Gank goo!" which is "thank you!" That works too. Happy Halloweenie!Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-51187307719777878012007-10-29T23:48:00.000-04:002007-10-30T09:16:18.046-04:00Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh (that's my ghost sound)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfMl4Gdgh_4IfNN8TVI1WI-90PZlTsgfKNAx2KQiRk7MpRRUjHuOZunSmBTPp1Pq1JpqXURMeMuQgfs9lo_pXR1oVLPaHx87t3r08EQ_71gFDhXDUePZXKLKZKmkUw312oBSijhA/s1600-h/headsortails.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126974808455500034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfMl4Gdgh_4IfNN8TVI1WI-90PZlTsgfKNAx2KQiRk7MpRRUjHuOZunSmBTPp1Pq1JpqXURMeMuQgfs9lo_pXR1oVLPaHx87t3r08EQ_71gFDhXDUePZXKLKZKmkUw312oBSijhA/s320/headsortails.gif" border="0" /></a>OK so I'm bringing out the old "haunts" this Halloween for this week's Heads or Tails. It's an article I wrote for the AP a few years ago about some local hauntings in Salt Lake City, however, the funny part was that I apparently "attracted" a ghost during one of my interviews. The tape really is scary sounding, I played it for everyone in my office and they agree. It is on one of those teensy tiny interview-recorder tapes so I haven't dubbed it over. I did, however, call a priest who told me that I need to get over it. That helped. Anyway, my advice is the advice I got from the psychic in the piece: don't put up your ghost antenna.<br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Ghosts lend spookiness, spice to Utah sites<br />by <a href="http://findarticles.com/p/search?tb=art&qt=%22Christie+L.+Hill+Associated+Press%22">Christie L. Hill Associated Press</a><br /></div><br /><div>Halloween 2003 is a memory, but the ghosts of Utah past -- some happy, some tortured, some who just can't let go -- continue to haunt, psychics say.</div><div><br />If you believe in such things (recent polls indicate Americans are split on the topic of ghosts), it only makes sense that Utah's rich history is brimming with spirits.</div><div><br />A high-haunt area is This Is the Place Heritage Park, a Mormon pioneer village replica near the mouth of Emigration Canyon in east Salt Lake City, where storyteller Michael Bennett recounts tales about the sounds of "children's voices laughing when there were no children around."</div><br /><div>Bennett's never seen any ghosts, but he's heard enough stories to make him a believer. "I think that there's been enough legitimate reporting of things seen and heard," Bennett said.</div><br /><div>He's talking about the strange occurrences at Brigham Young's old forest farmhouse, reputed to be one of the most haunted houses in Utah. It's hard to miss this pink, two-story, stucco house with a wraparound porch when you drive into the park. The 140-year old home was moved from its original site along I-80 back in 1975.</div><br /><div>The Mormon pioneer's ghost apparently wasn't too keen on the move and stayed behind. The ghost of Anne Eliza Webb Young, Brigham Young's 19th wife, is said to haunt the house now.<br />"Some of the things happened before it was moved that have not happened since it was moved," Bennett said. "There's been a change in personnel."</div><br /><div></div><div>That's typical, according to Salt Lake City psychic Margaret Ruth, whose morning radio show frequently muses on the otherworldly.</div><br /><div>"If I remodeled, I might get rid of a lot of residual energy," Ruth says. "All I'll have left is those who are very attached to the site."</div><br /><div>But whatever lurks in the eaves of Brigham Young's old home these days has frayed the nerves of at least one of the park's guides. She won't set foot back in the home, at least not alone.<br />"In October, in the evenings, it starts to get dark a little early, so if you went up there to close the blinds by yourself, you had this feeling that somebody else was in the room with you," said Pamela Schiess. She was a guide at the farmhouse for two years but has since moved to another job within the park. She's much happier.</div><br /><div>Schiess says it's commonplace for park guides to have ghost stories. Even some of the park's visitors have left the park with chilling tales of their own. A student on a field trip says he once saw a pioneer woman, dressed in pioneer clothing late at night at the park, and when he turned back around she was gone. The area is locked up at night, so there's no way someone could've gotten in, says Schiess.</div><br /><div>Is the story little more than the overactive imagination of youth?<br /></div><div>Consider the supposed sightings of an angry Mary Fielding Smith, widow of martyred Mormon leader Hyrum Smith, who's been seen standing outside her home up on a hill in the park, wagging her finger, annoyed that her house was put there, facing the wrong way.<br /></div><br /><div>The ghouls aren't confined to This Is the Place. </div><br /><div>Workers at the old Capitol Theatre, another infamous haunt spot, have named a live-in ghost "George." And the owner of Cassidy's Bar in Salt Lake City lets an old, attention-starved, emaciated, smoking and drinking cowboy stay there rent-free, as long as he doesn't hurt anyone. The owner said the supernatural bar-dweller once wanted attention so badly, he pushed a piece of equipment onto her son's head, requiring four stitches.</div><br /><div>Skeptical? You're not alone. A recent Harris Interactive poll conducted online shows that Americans are split when it comes to believing in ghosts. The poll also showed those 65 and over are the least likely to believe in ghosts.</div><br /><div>The doubters don't faze Margaret Ruth. "I didn't have to be crowned by the Spiritual Society. Psychic awareness belongs to everybody," she says, "and some people choose to do more with it than others."</div><div><br />Anyone can attract ghosts if they want to, Ruth says before adding a warning: "Most ghosts are really, really boring."</div><div><br />But on one recent day at this reporter's apartment, where Ruth insisted on conducting an interview after sensing a spirit over the phone, Ruth felt the presence of something that was anything but boring.</div><br /><div>With deep breaths and eyelids flitting, Ruth tuned in to the spiritual world and quickly sensed the energy of a woman who died too young, who didn't know she was dead. The young woman just wanted some attention, Ruth said. "I think she was quite attracted to us."</div><br /><div>A playback of the interview tape revealed an inexplicable, bloodcurdling scream that drowns out Ruth's voice as she and the reporter are talking. Neither heard a scream during the interview, and it only turned up on the tape.</div><br /><div>A true believer might say the tape picked up an EVP, or electronic voice phenomenon. "It raised the hair on the back of my neck," said Ruth, after hearing the tape played back, "and that doesn't usually happen."</div><br /><div>Anyone who's heard the tape agrees it's bizarre, a little creepy. Then again, it is Utah, where ghosts wander freely.</div><br /><div></div><div>Or do they?</div><br /><script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=christieo_7&postid=30Oct2007&meme=hot"></script>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-34142726216327771962007-10-29T09:11:00.000-04:002007-10-29T09:20:17.717-04:00A Full Nine MonthsNo, no baby yet. But it's been a little busy around here lately. The longer I go with this pregnancy, the more I find to do. I had four lists going yesterday and I hope to knock three of them out today.<br /><br />This morning we passed a milestone. I made it! We're 9 months!!! I've never been 9 months before! I don't know if it was the butt shots or if my body just did it on its own, but we're there and it's a miracle. I can't even explain the overwhelming peace I have within myself.<br /><br />Last week I had my last butt shot and the nurse and I had a moment when it was all over and I had made it to the end and we hugged. I felt like I did on graduation day when you realize it's all over and a weight is lifted. My "sack" has moved up, so that's no longer an issue. And my blood pressure is a wonderful 102/70. Now we're betting in the "baby pool" on when he'll arrive. I fully expect now to make it through November to the 26th, but who knows, there is a full moon November 12.<br /><br />That's the quick update. I know I've become a "weekly" blogger recently but I hope you'll still visit from time to time regardless. Hope everyone had a good weekend!Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-58492964195382470882007-10-22T16:47:00.000-04:002007-10-22T16:54:43.660-04:00Eddie VedderRaise your hand if you remember who he is. I had a rude awakening the other day. I was wandering through the mall, looking for some shoes when I decided I was craving an iced latte. And you know those CDs on the counters at Starbucks? Well, I saw one with Eddie Vedder on it. (Lead singer of Pearl Jam. Don't worry- we can 'don't ask don't tell if you didn't remember.) And here's where I'm going to feel really old here. Back in my day, (yes, before cell phones and laptop computers-- sometime in the early 90's) he was a GOD to most girls in college, at least to me and the chicks in my little group. And his picture on the CD here in 2007 was a little surprising. He looked <em>old</em>. Wah! Eddie Vedder looked old! And I was so taken aback by it that I asked the fetus cashier guy if that really was Eddie Vedder and didn't he look old??!!! And he stared at me blankly and said, "Sorry, I don't know who that is."<br /><br />Of course I felt like and old lady-slash-idiot and of course I had to call my husband right away and relay the story, and he just said, "Yes. You're old. Now put down your crochet and walk away."<br /><br />Yes, I'm crocheting a blanket at the moment.Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-57238619231139135592007-10-22T13:58:00.000-04:002007-10-22T14:10:26.353-04:00Press the full button!The worst thing about spending time among a million family members is the tendency to feed Poops everything. It's not anyone's fault, he's a scavenger. He'll go from plate to plate and grunt and go "OOh, OOh!" like a monkey, pointing at their food until they give him some. It's embarrassing actually if we're among non-family and he does this. We've been practicing at home with the whole "No, honey, that's not yours," or "You've already had lunch, let Aunt Clairanne eat in peace." And it works at home, mostly, just not when we're out. Like this weekend. My family threw me a shower on Saturday and my sister and her husband were in town for it, and it was wonderful and beautiful. I actually have some hysterical pictures of us playing games like competing for the first one to put a diaper on made out of toilet paper, or my 92 year old grandmother winning the game where you pass the pacifier from person to person using only a pencil in your mouth.<br /><br />After all the shower-ness, Sunday we were spent. We all layed around like beached whales with football on in the background, awaking only for meals. After dinner, we went to have ice cream at a place called "Wide Licks." Yes, extremely naughty sounding, which makes shoveling ice cream in my piehole that much naughtier. And Poops made his normal rounds, this time with my sister after having gorged himself on chocolate ice cream already, picking on her marshmallows from her ice cream. I thought we had stopped him from stuffing his face in time, I actually had said that I thought he probably had enough ice cream, because he would have definitely eaten more.<br /><br />But I was too late. As we drove home, I heard a cackle type cough, followed by a nasty, stinky smell that could only be throw up, so I pulled over. And on his shirt was a marshmallow still fully in tact. Isn't that lovely.Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-219067227118305932007-10-13T08:45:00.000-04:002007-10-13T14:33:41.134-04:00The Triad<div><div>Have I mentioned yet that two of my very best friends who I have known since the 7th grade are also pregnant? Yep! All three of us. Me, at 33 weeks, Ellen at 20 weeks, and Clairanne at about 16 weeks. It's simply mad! And to boot, we all already have boys. And we may all be having another round of them. The jury is still out on Clairanne, but Ellen and I are having boys. This is what we do. We pump out boys.</div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>Our lives are a far cry from when Ellen was drum major in the marching band and we all wore our tight polyester band-geek outfits complete with ruffle and cumberbund and feathers for our hats in the hot hot sun. (We did have a half-time show that was the James Bond theme and it completely rocked, our awesome drumline included. Sorry, I got all geeked out again for a second.) So yes, we were band-geeks together, but I'd like to call us "musicians." Then we went off to college and got all hoochied out together when we went out dancing and carrying around bottles of vodka (I am so glad we missed the era of camera phones!) We called ourselves "the triad." And look at us now! All pregnated out and married off and adult-like! Yeah right. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118764798022053586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlec1Zh14GFllXID31aSQYBSfDir9BsM1P14_mHGfNxH_a4YThWEAQpkoo_IawX_Ld4WgUc1pnLcKPRDPpF-jT30bZH-UPLN0ATCOUpg6IdE-RAJZkCPkzGykPmRwcuUcaISAj1w/s320/Sept__15th_1.jpg" border="0" /></div>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-66591867685433599162007-10-07T21:02:00.000-04:002007-10-07T21:11:19.966-04:00Where's my shoes??!!!<div><div>Oh just one of the many complications of getting larger by the second is thinking, "I really have to bend down to get that," then re-thinking it for a minute to weigh out the item's actual importance, then deciding against it. I have noticed over the past week that my shoes have been disappearing and this morning when I asked my husband to look under the couch for a missing shoe for me, he pulled out this:</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118766941210734322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4_cS9ehEsX9cWb85ioEuCYTNITk6A72S0-9bPCubUEaCTQDU3JteXiQrQEXf8vgBDGbXeibW5OjmqjjV0R7_i3if_v8S-SpwX3kE5SUjVPANbUuR4XGTXyhQBCyv-VXo2qXQpw/s320/shoes.jpg" border="0" />So <em>that's</em> where they were! Now where's my cat?</div>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-34200692916022170602007-10-02T08:19:00.000-04:002007-10-02T08:42:03.619-04:00I'm in a quandary. (Scroll down for Heads or Tails)I am finding myself in an interesting quandary. When I created this blog just about one year ago, I had a 5 month old. His nickname was "Poops". I did not, however, count on being about two seconds away from popping out another kid the exact following year. So when this one is born, what on earth am I to do about the title of my blog? It's not going to be "The Mis-Adventures of Captain Poopy" because now there will be two Poopies. When I think about adding the littler Poops to the name, I think about the cartoon "Captain Caveman" when it was a second go-round for him on Saturday morning and they added his son to the cartoon. So you would hear him yelling in his caveman voice at the beginning of the show: "Captain Caaa-a-aaaaaaaaaaave-mannnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! (And son!)" So that's what I hear in my head. But that makes no sense.<br /><br />So what am I to do? I guess I can keep the link the same and update the title, or even re-work the whole darned header, but I can't decide which to do. Especially because I want even less to confuse anyone who actually comes here to visit me. So, anyone have any ideas? Or even better, ideas for a title? It is possible that I might turn this into a contest.Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-2790899911242027192007-10-01T20:25:00.000-04:002007-10-01T20:45:09.199-04:00Heads or Tails: Stack<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8_8b5Qf6u5ne6WEIosJbQ0voX_YV5175oSSzdsOJl3xTI1equOjy51ak7jqvysimHQ5BbBFSoNMkJYEVXZPFxC0nYQCMfbFjGj4NiyBCKqSJ8nGxqrrNnEFpQvdf0VIhX1adUw/s1600-h/headsortails.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116533261864070834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8_8b5Qf6u5ne6WEIosJbQ0voX_YV5175oSSzdsOJl3xTI1equOjy51ak7jqvysimHQ5BbBFSoNMkJYEVXZPFxC0nYQCMfbFjGj4NiyBCKqSJ8nGxqrrNnEFpQvdf0VIhX1adUw/s200/headsortails.gif" border="0" /></a>It's "heads" in this week's "Heads or Tails" and the theme is "stack." Which I had a really hard time thinking about because all I kept thinking about were boobs. As in, "she's stacked." Is that pervy?<br /><div></div><br /><div>Anyway, I figured that my life is completely made up of stacks, so I'll list 10 of them lying around my house because that should be pretty easy.</div><div></div><br /><div>1. Diapers! (of course.)</div><div>2. Boxes of decaf tea (chamomile and Sleepytime) that my sister-in-law got on discount from the military base for me (thanks!!)</div><div>3. New baby clothes for littler Poops. He can't have <em>alll</em> hand-me-downs.</div><div>4. A nice big stack of Parent and Real Simple magazines in the bathroom, just in case one might get stuck in there for a while.</div><div>5. A stack of brown leather boxes in the office full of crafting stuff, like scrapbooking paper, ribbon, fabric glue, stickers, embellishments. Which brings me to the question, what is it about motherhood or even pregnancy for that matter that moves a person to wanna craft? I have crochet class with my mom tomorrow night (I am desperate to make a "coming home" blanket.) Where will the madness end?</div><div>6. A stack of books on my desk that are my life; the AP Handbook, my pregnancy journal and planner.</div><div>7. Gift cards. (Ooh la la!)</div><div>8. Christmas cards. Yes! Christmas Cards! I ordered mine already and I love them! Why not get prepared for which will be a completely nutty holiday season?</div><div>9. Coupons which I always leave at home and allow to expire.</div><div>10. Labeled boxes underneath my bathroom cabinet for hair stuff, face stuff, foot stuff, nail stuff, etc. etc. </div><br /><br />Don't forget Heads or Tails Tuesdays at <a href="http://skittles0366.blogspot.com/">Skittles Place</a>! Anyone can join in!<br /><script src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=christieo_7&postid=01Oct2007&meme=hot" type="text/javascript"></script>Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-80357529346992551222007-10-01T14:02:00.000-04:002007-10-01T14:19:31.584-04:00No Longer the University of Southern Florida<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wqDVj2gT8rcNQrHpmCIU8QgDeX9NFhxmu8C0i7JJ9R1YJVGBozl16_UY4X7U11jfLKErWwZO2gy005x8Ryj0Jp3b5mZv0ftmLuFlIs3sQGc8Ho8-gAwwGwLf8FhJoG03jpVu3w/s1600-h/usfLogo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116430766764519026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wqDVj2gT8rcNQrHpmCIU8QgDeX9NFhxmu8C0i7JJ9R1YJVGBozl16_UY4X7U11jfLKErWwZO2gy005x8Ryj0Jp3b5mZv0ftmLuFlIs3sQGc8Ho8-gAwwGwLf8FhJoG03jpVu3w/s200/usfLogo.jpg" border="0" /></a> Obviously as a USF alumni who graduated in what <em>feels</em> like 1898, I am proud to be watching a football team that is now ranked in the top 10! Oh how I have waited, even dreamed, about this day! I remember what it was like before the school even had a football team. We watched basketball back then. I also didn't have a computer yet (no, I didn't chisel my essays into stone tablets -- but I did have a "word processor", does that count?) Then, once they had a football team, we were referred to by everyone, including sportscasters, as "The University of <em>Southern</em> Florida," which was just so annoying (it's SOUTH Florida!). But it showed how unknown we were and I was always sad about that. And then, even up to about two years ago, we'd go to watch a football game at Beefs or some other sportsbar (in <em>Tampa</em> mind you! Where USF is located!) and not only would no one in the place know that USF was playing, but we'd have to fight with people (mostly UF fans) to get our game put up on one of the bigger tv's and not the teensy one way up high in the back corner with no sound.<br /><br />So Friday was historic, not just because our team finally broke into the top 10, but most of all, because husband and I were in a bar/restaurant that actually had an hour and 45 minute wait (thankfully we got there before then) and everyone in it was there to watch USF. And everyone in it roared when USF did <em>anything</em> even remotely good. It was amazing. I couldn't even believe my eyes and ears! And the game was actually sold out! I remember watching it on tv when the cameras would try desperately to focus on the little groups of fans scattered around the huge Raymond James Stadium so as to make it look like USF actually had fans. That, or the fans of whatever team they were playing outnumbered USF's. Or, we would actually go because it was easy to get tickets and they were really cheap and we'd be too drunk to notice what the score was or who won.<br /><br />And no, I didn't get to go Friday night and for that, I am sad. I am too bulbous now. But I won't ask for too much. Just the fact that people actually know what the heck school this is is enough for me. Finally.Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-30672740121187344982007-09-26T22:21:00.000-04:002007-09-26T22:39:44.956-04:00Sorry, I am here. Really I am.I am just taking a lot of naps. I just have not been feeling good at all. Baby's doing flip-flops all over my stomach, which is making for an interesting time for any food in there trying to stay down. Yes, I know, TMI. (I bought a cute new pair of pj's the other day that was stained within mere minutes where I spilled my Maximum Strength Gaviscon.) So that, along with the nasty heartburn, extreme nausea, the leg cramps, the headaches and the snoring husband (love you honey!) and you have a sleepless in Tampa-bay, somewhat grumpy "me". But the good news is, baby is doing fine still incubating in there and he's supposedly creeping up on 4 pounds in there, according to latest sonogram.<br /><br />The partial previa I have is starting to lessen, although not very much. My placenta (aka my "sack" as my sister likes to call it-- she asks me often "How's your sack?") is migrating northward slowly (it has moved about a centimeter in the past 10 weeks) and I have another sono at 34 weeks to make sure it's moving farther up. <br /><br />I don't remember being this uncomfortable with Poops the last time around, but they say that God makes you forget the yucky parts so you'll keep on popping out kids. I am convinced that is true. But before I get to thinking, "I still have 9 more weeks to go???!!!" (and by the way, most people--even strangers-- who see my belly and ask how far along I am have no problem expressing their astonishment at the fact that I still have until the end of November even though I look already like I am about to pop) I quickly push that thought from my mind and think I will be absolutely blessed to go another 9 weeks, no matter how huge and uncomfortable I become. I promise I will be around to visit soon!Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34018180.post-91485033869361090662007-09-20T20:59:00.000-04:002007-09-20T21:12:52.583-04:00The Haircut<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIu8qh_AYLOTkUKJCJoDXxGdX_-QEgPTICzqQOy0DWrQrkd6oI5oJpyiiVdcVZ03r-wQvkPSyykHPzYdqOHAS6X_Cgi_WUYyqxUFW_jqS3DCjL4jaLIK8VyVe5BDVWoNppgv2Kig/s1600-h/20070920_0003.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112458510426238498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIu8qh_AYLOTkUKJCJoDXxGdX_-QEgPTICzqQOy0DWrQrkd6oI5oJpyiiVdcVZ03r-wQvkPSyykHPzYdqOHAS6X_Cgi_WUYyqxUFW_jqS3DCjL4jaLIK8VyVe5BDVWoNppgv2Kig/s200/20070920_0003.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYWEXyEmfSNKgn4RlgN6rdb93vzUchV9YcleoZsPIgi1h6SlwzqxD7z8bMBhjvaO43shVKhT9ZKgmW5IrdmsHrGLfyCMUpK-iCSAtbRin6-srLUlX161MLIt6D89EU7bT3C9jgKg/s1600-h/20070920_0009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112458514721205810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYWEXyEmfSNKgn4RlgN6rdb93vzUchV9YcleoZsPIgi1h6SlwzqxD7z8bMBhjvaO43shVKhT9ZKgmW5IrdmsHrGLfyCMUpK-iCSAtbRin6-srLUlX161MLIt6D89EU7bT3C9jgKg/s200/20070920_0009.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq__7lsXUTGGmZb6BoZuZhUrB-P8GyNio30-PS8TMyh9Q16-EqxllXhb69n_zheF3O5RDzbTUjcjokIdoOAI976Fn21VFpRRbHjI_0kbLU_lqFk3bxrmspbc0pUWaZdbm5JWxD-w/s1600-h/20070920_0011.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112458519016173122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq__7lsXUTGGmZb6BoZuZhUrB-P8GyNio30-PS8TMyh9Q16-EqxllXhb69n_zheF3O5RDzbTUjcjokIdoOAI976Fn21VFpRRbHjI_0kbLU_lqFk3bxrmspbc0pUWaZdbm5JWxD-w/s200/20070920_0011.JPG" border="0" /></a>We had haircut #2 today, but this time it was done at a much cuter place (than my house) and by a much better haircuttress (than mommy). Mullet begone!Christie O.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16119774914469200174noreply@blogger.com6