The Mis-Adventures of Captain Poopy

Extreme Makeover Blog Edition

2008-02-22T16:28:00.002-05:00

It'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.)

So my return to the blogosphere won't be here, it'll be at my new home, Baby Tea Leaves. 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!

Captains Log #1

2007-12-19T13:27:00.000-05:00

The 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.

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?"

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.

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.

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!

We're Home!

2007-12-02T23:01:00.000-05:00

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.

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.

Poops meeting his baby brother and loving him.

A sleepy boy.

Going home day.

Does life get any better than this really?

I've sprung a leak!

2007-11-30T01:28:00.000-05:00

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.)

We're headed in. See ya on the flip side! Wish us luck!
XO

She's gonna blow!

2007-11-26T09:35:00.000-05:00

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!

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.

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!

Family portrait

2007-11-17T15:26:00.000-05:00

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).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.

Prayers for Preemies

2007-11-14T15:12:00.000-05:00

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.

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.

Confessions of a pregnant wife

2007-11-12T21:13:00.000-05:00

The sexiest thing I've heard from my husband in a long time:

"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."

This more than excited me. I wish I were kidding.

Still no baby

2007-11-11T21:16:00.001-05:00

And 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.

The Pooping Place

2007-11-11T21:05:00.000-05:00

Guess 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.

Yes, he's doing exactly what you think he's doing. I recognize the pattern now. Apparently a boy needs his privacy.

Update-Still nothing

2007-11-09T08:59:00.000-05:00

We 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!

WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

2007-11-05T00:00:00.000-05:00

Guess what today is?

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.

If I Only Had a Brain....

2007-11-03T09:35:00.000-04:00

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!

HAPPY HALLOWEENIE!

2007-10-31T00:00:00.000-04:00

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:
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!

Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh (that's my ghost sound)

2007-10-29T23:48:00.000-04:00

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.

Ghosts lend spookiness, spice to Utah sites
by Christie L. Hill Associated Press

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.
"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."

That's typical, according to Salt Lake City psychic Margaret Ruth, whose morning radio show frequently muses on the otherworldly.

"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."

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.
"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.

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.

Is the story little more than the overactive imagination of youth?

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.

The ghouls aren't confined to This Is the Place.

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.

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.

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."

Anyone can attract ghosts if they want to, Ruth says before adding a warning: "Most ghosts are really, really boring."

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.

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."

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.

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."

Anyone who's heard the tape agrees it's bizarre, a little creepy. Then again, it is Utah, where ghosts wander freely.

Or do they?

A Full Nine Months

2007-10-29T09:11:00.000-04:00

No, 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.

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.

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.

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!

Eddie Vedder

2007-10-22T16:47:00.000-04:00

Raise 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 old. 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."

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."

Yes, I'm crocheting a blanket at the moment.

Press the full button!

2007-10-22T13:58:00.000-04:00

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.

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.

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.

The Triad

2007-10-13T08:45:00.000-04:00

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.

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.

Where's my shoes??!!!

2007-10-07T21:02:00.000-04:00

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:

So that's where they were! Now where's my cat?

I'm in a quandary. (Scroll down for Heads or Tails)

2007-10-02T08:19:00.000-04:00

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.

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.

Heads or Tails: Stack

2007-10-01T20:25:00.000-04:00

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?

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.

1. Diapers! (of course.)

2. Boxes of decaf tea (chamomile and Sleepytime) that my sister-in-law got on discount from the military base for me (thanks!!)

3. New baby clothes for littler Poops. He can't have alll hand-me-downs.

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.

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?

6. A stack of books on my desk that are my life; the AP Handbook, my pregnancy journal and planner.

7. Gift cards. (Ooh la la!)

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?

9. Coupons which I always leave at home and allow to expire.

10. Labeled boxes underneath my bathroom cabinet for hair stuff, face stuff, foot stuff, nail stuff, etc. etc.

Don't forget Heads or Tails Tuesdays at Skittles Place! Anyone can join in!

No Longer the University of Southern Florida

2007-10-01T14:02:00.000-04:00

Obviously as a USF alumni who graduated in what feels 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 Southern 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 Tampa 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.

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 anything 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.

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.

Sorry, I am here. Really I am.

2007-09-26T22:21:00.000-04:00

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.

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.

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!

The Haircut

2007-09-20T20:59:00.000-04:00

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!

Poop Catchers: A Review

2007-09-18T21:30:00.000-04:00

One thing we go through like water is diapers. And believe me, we've tried them all. There is nothing worse than when a diaper "fails" and we have to change his clothes, his sheets, his crib bumper, and head straight to the bathtub for a full-body washdown. After a lot of trial and error (and a lot of grossly failed experiments) our biggest success has been with Pampers Cruisers, but they are seriously expensive. So when I was asked to give Luvs' new "Bear Hug Stretch" diapers out, I couldn't help but think I'd probably get through one day and head back to Pampers. Boy was I pleasantly surprised!

The big fat tabbies close up tightly and hug his legs nicely. The diapers are built just as sturdy as Pampers and are extremely absorbent. We went through the entire 40-pack without so much as a single leak! I was very impressed, but most of all, I was impressed with the price. The only thing I have a little bit of trouble with is actually finding them in the store. Luvs says they'd like to price a 40-count at about 8 bucks, although I saw them for $10 in the one store I did happen to spot them in (but they didn't have my little guy's size). However, the Pampers 46-count is about $16, and the Luvs are just as good. I will be on the lookout for these and as soon as I find them, I will be switching. It's worth it. The newborn sizes aren't out yet, but they will be in December, just in time for my other little guy's arrival. Sweet!

Best Part Husband

2007-09-18T21:03:00.000-04:00

OK what wife on this earth doesn't want to see this on her birthday???

(Hint for men: NONE!) I'd say husband did good. This beautiful necklace was inside of it:

Me=very happy. Thank you husband and babies!

I'm losing count

2007-09-17T08:22:00.000-04:00

I am 32 today (Happy Birthday to me!) and I have an e-card from Kelly Clarkson telling me so. My day is complete.

Yes, I am lame. I am 32 and I am in the Kelly Clarkson fan club. I had to join in order to get an update on when her canceled show would be rescheduled, because I had tickets for her show that was supposed to be two weeks ago. It was rescheduled (as the fan club notified me thank God) but it was rescheduled for 5 days after my due date so I guess I should just let this one go. No Kelly Clarkson this time.

Anyway, what a lovely birthday present I got this weekend! A little bloggy love, first from The Rising Blogger for my post on September 11th, which was really sweet especially because I had misgivings about writing it at all.
And the second from Bankerchick over at Bankerchick's Scratchings, who gave me this (thank you!!!):

Isn't that the sweetest ever? The good thing is, I get to pass this on! And you know that giving is so much funner than receiving so I am giving this to Skittles (even though I noticed she has already gotten it!) because she is just so darn stinkin sweet (like the candy!), and to Jenmomof4 at The Wilson Six because every month she "pays it forward" and gets other people to too with her random acts of kindness! I just love random acts of kindness and because of her, probably dozens of people are smiling and saying "That made my day!" just because a random stranger did something nice. I love that.

So I am just going to kick back and relax today, despite my dirty floors, and bask in the sound that is the best birthday present ever, of a little boy in a monitor with a tiny little voice saying "Momma" over and over again and "Da-dddy" and "Hi!" while playing in his crib and not taking a nap.

Take a Bite out of Boob Class

2007-09-15T08:40:00.000-04:00

I went to "Breastfeeding 101" last night with a dear friend of mine who is also pregnant, sparing my husband from such details as cracked nipples and cabbage leaves. However, when we were walking up to the classroom at the women's hospital, by the sheer numbers of men in the room, I was sure we were about to walk into the wrong class, like "childbirth" or something. But no, it was correct. And my surprise didn't end there! No, it didn't! Not only were the men vigorously taking notes on things like how long a woman has colostrum and when it turns to breastmilk, and details on the La Leche League, but most of the people asking questions were actually the men! I was astonished! And I can't help it, but part of me was even a little jealous. Then I thought about it again and decided I really don't mind owning the information myself and not having my husband standing over me with his notebad saying "Honey, I think you're doing that wrong."

But there were times in the class when I knew full well that it was best that I went with a girlfriend rather than my husband, because we probably would have been kicked out of the class for being the most immature adults in the room. Like, say, for instance, when the instructor brought out the little stuffed boob that looked like a burger with a nipple on it. Complete with a pull-cord which I must admit I spent half the class wondering what on earth the pull cord did, like did the boob say something when you pulled it? Or did it vibrate? (Later, I found out when you pulled the cord, it inverted the nippy to show what happens when a woman with inverted nippies tries to breastfeed -- kind of a boring toy now, but definitely useful). Anyway, that's neither here nor there. It was when she was demonstrating the latch that I know my husband and I would have completely and immaturely lost it. Because she likened how an infant tries to latch onto the boob to how an adult would eat a burger, and proceeded to turn the flat stuffed boobie sideways and take a bite. I'm still laughing thinking about it now.

So yes, my friend and I were the only ones in the class who already had kids but were taking the class anyway. But I had a lot of questions this time around because I didn't get a chance to take the class last time before Aidan was born because he was early, and I wanted to prepare better for breastfeeding this time around and try to go a little longer than I did with Aidan. Although I still have a slight problem with the idea of a person who has never given birth or breastfed teaching a breastfeeding class. This was the case last night and it was the case as well during our childbirth class. But I guess there's enough science behind it to for someone to teach that part of it. Still, I always feel like it's like a journalist reporting about a hurricane while standing in the sunlight under a bright blue sky rather than being knocked over by the sheer wind and rain.

Tails: September 11th

2007-09-11T08:52:00.001-04:00

My mom asks me why it's been six years and I have never written about 9/11. I know why she asks me. I was living there at the time. But for some reason, I think that being there and living through it for me is so much smaller than the people who really lived through it, those who lost people they knew and loved, who literally ran for their lives that day, who were trapped buried underneath the rubble for days, who jumped from the inferno, who witnessed fear at its most basic, primal worst, who fought off hijackers, who sat helpless while terrorists ravaged through our hearts.

I lived in Queens, just on the other side of the river. I took the F-Train to work at my job at Fox News Channel every day and I was running a little late that morning. I was supposed to be in early to cover someone else's shift at 9:30. It was just past 9 when my phone rang and it was my mom who said, "Turn on the tv."

I saw the smoke coming from the World Trade Center and thought, "Shit." There were only preliminary reports then and at that time it was being labeled an accident; a small plane that went off course. I knew it was going to be a busy news day even if it were an accident, so I just said "Gotta go! I'll call you later! Love you." Hung up and ran for the subway. What a morning to be late, I thought.

I got onto the train and for the next hour and a half I was stuck on the subway underneath the East River on a trip that only usually takes 25 minutes. I was pissed. I thought the train was having problems. I thought I was in serious hot water, late on a breaking news day. Great. No one on the train knew what was actually happening. There's no cell service down in the tunnels. The conductors said nothing. It turned out the train I was on was one of the last ones into the city for the next few weeks.

As the train pulled up to my stop, there were officers everywhere. I ran up the stairs and out into the sunlight, straight down 6th Avenue toward the News Corps building and when I got there, it was under lockdown. Of course, I ran out of my apartment so fast, I had forgotten my I.D. and security wouldn't let me in. I pulled out my Driver's license, my business cards, everything I could to say who I was in a panic and he let me in. I ran in, ran down the escalator and into the newsroom, where everyone was standing, mouths dropped, watching the live news, watching the monitors at their desks as the second tower began to fall. I could not comprehend what was happening. I was seeing only one tower left and now it was falling.

I realized that as I was trapped in the subway for that hour and a half that my parents were probably watching the television, freaking out that while this was going on, I was on my way into the city, and after it all started to sink in, I called them. "I'm ok," I said. "I'm below ground. We're safe here. I'm safe." "Oh, THANK GOD!" my mom yelled back. I told her I had to go and I'd keep in touch. I logged in on the computer and my e-mail was flooded with subject lines "Where are you?" and "Are you ok?" from friends and family who live far from me.

Bulletins were crossing the wire, planes were missing everywhere, we realized we were under attack. The newsroom was both completely numb and chaotic at the same time. We didn't know the scope of this yet. This truly was worst case scenario. We didn't know if the world was going to end as we knew it, whether this was the just the beginning, whether there would be bombs, more attacks, we didn't know anything. But we had to find out. It's what we do. Turn off. Work.

I worked until 2 in the morning that day and had to come back in by 7 a.m. That was pretty much my schedule for quite some time. The subways and bridges were shut down indefinitely. There was no way I was going home any time soon. I, along with my co-workers, plunged into work. I ended up staying in the city for the next two weeks. Borrowing clothes, yes even underwear, and an apartment from a co-worker, who turned out to be one of my dearest friends, and working around the clock. The only food we had time to get was whatever the channel was providing from some deli.

That summer, it was hot. There was no wind, and a white, chalky haze from the World Trade Centers hovered over Manhattan for more than a month. It just hung there, stagnant. I can't explain the smell even though I remember it so well. The city was the best and worst place to be during that time. ATMs ran out of money. Stores ran out of food. People saluted and waved to the firefighters who drove by with their huge flags waving from the backs of their fire engines. Firefighters drove by and passed out bottled water to people on the streets. Businesses were shut down. New York City was in a collective silence. People were cautious. And at that point ready for anything. Riding the subways or the bus was a scary, but bonding experience. Everyone noticed everything. An unattended backpack. A suspicious face. Suspicious activity. There was no local crime, or at least it felt like it. That feeling of togetherness was overwhelming. The feeling that anything could happen was terrifying.

The friend I was staying with lived a couple blocks from the Empire State Building. There were always threats against the building, which turned out to be hoaxes, but we didn't know that at the time. That skyscraper stared right at us like a giant face through her bedroom window and there was no sleeping. Just in case.

For a while, we ditched our "regular" jobs in emergency mode. Tapes and tapes of video were being pumped in from every network. Every network shared everything. There was news conference after news conference. There were two live cameras on Ground Zero at all times, watching the "bucket brigade", as they called it; firefighters one by one passing bucket after bucket of rubble down the line. When they came across someone who was buried under there, we knew. The firefighters would either break out into chaos trying to free them, or salute, and a few minutes later we'd see them solemnly roll away a flag-draped gurney. Each time, every producer would stop and watch. Many cried.

I only went down to the site a couple of times. I couldn't really bear to. I saw it enough from my desk and heard enough from reporters and photographers who were there. But when I did go, the one thing I remember most about what it looked like was the papers everywhere. There's an old church behind Ground Zero that held services for the workers and was turned into a kind of shelter for them. The entire grounds of the church was covered in papers from the towers. Papers literally everywhere you walked, all covered in a chalky ash. All along the fences there were missing people posters, put there by family members desperately waiting to hear any word of their loved ones. There were impromptu memorials of flowers, candles, and notes in bunches along the fences around Ground Zero. People would pray, all day, all night, and sing and talk, at a park north of Ground Zero, at Union Square, which became a sort of giant memorial and gathering place.

At work, the only time we left the building was to go sleep for a couple hours, but no one really slept. We were all zombies just going through the motions of this first-ever experience for every one of us. Somehow, we all got it done. Through our own personal fear and loss, we wrote, we worked to bring as much of what we were seeing to the world as we could. I never saw more professionalism in my life.

A month later, things were finally starting to quiet. The air was starting to smell a little less, the cloud was starting to lift although there was still smoke coming from the wreckage, and there was a chill in the air. People started to live life a little more normally. Before that point, going out for a beer seemed sacrilegious and besides, there was just no time. But I remember the first time we all got a chance to hang out together outside work and we got hammered. Which was terrible because what happens when a bunch of people who have a bunch of pent-up exhaustion, fear and sadness get drunk? Yes, drunk crying. The whole lot of us.

For months and months, no one could really talk about anything else. And conversation would always turn to "Where were you?"

I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for families, relatives, rescuers, and victims or what it is still like. I can't even begin to imagine it. It was so difficult for me that I saw a therapist for two years afterward. And every year, I cry on the anniversary. I will never forget that 9/11 was on a Tuesday. Today is Tuesday and that is weird to me. I suspect I will talk to my dear friend with whom I shared that time with. We don't talk very much now living on opposite coasts, but we always talk on this day. I was going through my clothes cleaning out the nursery closet a couple weeks ago and found a pair of her pants that I had borrowed when I stayed at her house during the weeks following 9/11 and I finally parted with them. There is so much more to tell about New York City during that time but I don't even know where to begin. All I know is that it was the most terrifying, unifying time I have every experienced. I have never seen so much love come from so much hate. I would never want to be in any other place on that day.

Big baby and a lovely S Shape

2007-09-09T20:25:00.000-04:00

I feel almost ridiculous walking into the gym as big as I already feel like I am. I have officially taken on an "S" shape (where my belly is as far out as my bum). But it feels good when I go so I will trudge on. I feel like it helps my swelling and my weight stay down. What doesn't want to seem to stay down, however, is my awful heartburn. At last appointment, the doctor noticed (as I had) that the baby seems to be a little big. He is crowding all my junk already! Sitting and kicking and rolling all over my stomach, which is creating this horrible heartburn and nausea, the nausea oh so reminiscent of the first trimester. I love him nonetheless, but he's very bony and poky and doesn't seem to want to have a nap. Poops was more floppy and he was on schedule. Up at 6am, again most noticeably right in the middle of the newscast I was producing at the time at 6pm, and a couple big spurts in between. I have heard that terrible heartburn means the baby will have a lot of hair and I've also heard it's not an old wives tale. Which would be really neat to see because Aidan was bald up until just before his first birthday, when all he really had grown was a mullet while maintaining his bald top. Something about the acid stimulating the hair follicles.

So thankfully we got our crib! Yay! Toys R' Us had a shipment between the time I had bought the other one and today and they had three in stock. Of course we dissected the box and made sure that it was intact before we brought it home and it was perfect. Husband is working on it right now. Oh the joy!!

Now, I just can't wait to see Brittany Spears open up the VMAs in Las Vegas!

Don't you just hate it when..

2007-09-08T17:21:00.000-04:00

you find the perfect "something" and it turns out it's the only one left at the store, and you bring it home and you open the box to begin putting it together and you find it BROKEN!

Argh. That's what happened this morning when we opened up the box to the new baby's crib. I have been searching for the perfect little white crib for weeks now and we finally found one, on sale, at where of all places but Toys R' Us. It was the last one in stock. It has a side that pulls down, it turns into a toddler bed, it's real wood and it's white. All of my criteria. (I have found that most white cribs with a pull-down side turn into daybeds. Not "toddler" beds. Go figure. And yes, I need the pull-down thingy because I am super short.)

Anyway, we open up the nice big box and I'm all dreamy-eyed and excited because we're about to see it all put together, when I spot a huge half-foot-long split and gouge in the wood.

Wah. Wah. Debbie Downer.
So I am about to embark on calling every Toys R' Us in the country to return this one. Sniff.

Oh and ps. On the Dyson

2007-09-05T10:36:00.000-04:00

Yes, Ciara, Yes! Ciara asked me if the Dyson is worth the splurge and I have to say a resounding YES!!! But even better than that, ours was $399 and we bought it Friday. Come to find out that on Sunday, Target began running a special on all Dysons, that if you bought any model, they'd throw in a $100 gift card for you. SO, I waddled on in with my receipt and my pouty face to see if they would still give me that gift card because we bought the vaccuum on Friday and they said yes! Yay! So if you wanna splurge, go to Target and get that $100 gift card while you're at it! Whoopee!

Hello, Third Trimester, My Lovely Friend

2007-09-04T08:29:00.000-04:00

Yay! Third trimester! We've made it! That means 12 weeks left till due date and 9 weeks left till plain-old full term, man is time flying! We had a very productive weekend. Hubby had his "pregnancy support team" shirt on when he tackled our (ok, my) very large list of to-do's on his four-day weekend and he did it with such grace. We cleaned out the guest room to ready it for its paint transformation and while he painted, I finished putting together the office, cleaned out and organized the closets and all of the baby clothes. Meantime, I tested our new DYSON vaccuum cleaner and (yes, I have reached a time in my life when I am excited about a vaccuum cleaner!).

Husband also put together Poops' table and chairs that he got for his birthday and I am so sorry we haven't put it together sooner, he is in love over these things!

I call this masterpiece: "Baby in Still Life: Meeting Adjourned"

Pregnant Weirdo

2007-08-31T16:24:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-30T08:44:00.000-04:00

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.

2007-08-29T13:11:00.001-04:00

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

2007-08-27T20:40:00.001-04:00

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

2007-08-21T08:45:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-16T16:24:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-14T08:46:00.000-04:00

"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

2007-08-13T22:16:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-12T21:59:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-08-12T16:20:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-08-09T11:16:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-09T08:15:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-08T10:19:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-08T09:55:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-08-05T22:07:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-05T21:29:00.000-04:00

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!

Beachin It & Sparkle Folo

2007-07-28T09:51:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-27T08:18:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-25T21:54:00.000-04:00

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.

Bye Bye Baby Mullet!

2007-07-24T20:38:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-23T13:42:00.000-04:00

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!!

2007-07-22T23:12:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-07-22T22:34:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-07-22T21:28:00.001-04:00

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

2007-07-17T08:44:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-16T17:20:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-07-16T15:11:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-11T22:38:00.000-04:00

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.

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

2007-07-11T20:43:00.000-04:00

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?

2007-07-08T20:17:00.000-04:00

Independence Day Pics

2007-07-06T22:19:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-06T21:42:00.000-04:00

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.

2007-07-04T12:21:00.000-04:00

The Pillow Menagerie

2007-07-02T13:19:00.000-04:00

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!

Thursday Thirteen #28: The Visual Version

2007-06-28T09:35:00.000-04:00

Here's the visual edition of the Thursday Thirteen:

13 of my favorite pictures EVER

1. It's a few months past Poops' first birthday, but he found his hat and loves it now, wandering around the house and thinking he's all that while wearing it. He takes on an entirely different personality when he wears it. I think he thinks we don't recognize him in it.

2. One of my dearest friends, Alicia and I, when I went up to NYC to visit my old haunts just after I got married. We have a million pictures of us acting like "An American Gothic". I had an online company stick our faces and bodies into a computer-generated copy of the painting. Similar, no? Haha!

My sister and her husband. This is at Clearwater Beach on Mother's Day a couple years ago when we caught the sunset. I gave this to them as one of their engagement presents, since they never had an engagement photo taken professionally.

4. This is that same sunset. I have this picture hanging in my living room. I love decorating my house in pictures of real life.

5. This one's hanging next to the one above this in my living room.

I love ships too. This was taken in St. Lucia at a wedding of a dear friend of mine. It was a little overcast and rainy, but the vegetation was so beautiful, lush and green there. It was a great trip.

Hubby and Poops at a marina near our house. He thinks his jeans make him look like he has a saggy bottom in this picture but it doesn't! I love the picture. It's hanging in our family room.

The pumpkin family we carved last Halloween. This is the pumpkin version of our family. Next Halloween, we will add another tiny pumpkin.

8. Poops feeding a giraffe at the zoo a couple weeks ago.

9. There were four of us girlfriends who went to the zoo that day. These are allllllll our boys.

10.
My grandma holding Poops for the first time. I love my Grandma. She's 92 and she's still got it all together. She has fewer illnesses than all of us! By the way, she has four children, including my dad and his twin brother, who popped out when she was almost 40! Surprise!

11. I love this butt shot. I just can't help myself. Sorry Aidan!

12. Taken again at Clearwater Beach on a different day, there was an entire tree full of wild parrots. He was sitting there in the grass.

13. Finally, baby "plumber"!! This one cracks me up. Pun intended.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

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Team Baby

2007-06-26T16:22:00.000-04:00

I can't explain this feeling I have, but I have this overwhelming feeling that this baby is going to go full-term and everything will go just as planned, baby bag packed, clothing ready, nursery done, everything. I don't know what it is, but I am entirely 100% sure of it. The only way I can explain it is that with Poops I knew he was coming early. I can't explain that either. I just knew. I hadn't an inkling of any future complications, I just knew he would arrive before his due date. In my head, that meant maybe a week, not six. But early, I was sure. I can't explain why. I even told my best friend this earlier on in the pregnancy and she thought I was crazy. This time is different. I think there is something to "a mother always knows." Hopefully I won't be proven wrong.

I left my doctor's appointment and second round of butt shots today feeling absolutely euphoric. On top of the world. The doctor I saw today is one of the sweetest ones on staff, and she looked at me and said, "We're going for no NICU time this time. None." I then saw the chief nurse who delivered my huge shot (which again didn't hurt--yay!) who was also so wonderful. I felt like I had a team with me for the first time. Like they were all working hard for the same goal I am. I still have questions about the group doctor thing, but you can mark it down in the "pros" list; I have a team. I feel like my team is in weekly negotiations with the evil axis of power we call Prematurity. The talks are going positively and at this time, Prematurity does not want to obtain evil weapons to destroy or even try to intimidate the country we call "Healthy Pregnancy." So if this were a world full of pregnancy politics, that would be the scenario and I have a strong, wonderful cabinet full of smart, worldly diplomats helping me to contain the evil axis.

"Little Sweet Potato" is doing well, strong heartbeat and all, and allowing me some energy and a huge appetite. Which of course was cause for celebration, my favorite sandwich at my favorite place in the whole world. Turkey, fresh mozzarella and tomato on onion foccaccia with homemade garlic aioli and a sweet onion jam. This sandwich is literally to die for and I'm stuffed. My best friend and my sister will be jealous when they read this! Love you! Hahaha. I used to fly in from whereever I was living and have to make time to go to this place for this sandwich on every trip. Now they do the same. It's that good. So that's that. I love this little transition Poops is going through with his walking. It's about time the bottoms of his feet finally get dirty!! The tops of his socks were always the dirty side because when he crawls, the tops of his feet drag on the floor. Just one of those cute little things you notice when he passes another milestone.

Aidan Walking!!

2007-06-24T20:02:00.000-04:00

Here he is!! Proof of walking!! He still doesn't walk by default, but he's gaining confidence with every step. Yay Aidan!!!

The Group Thing

2007-06-23T15:47:00.000-04:00

Two years, I've been with the same OB office now, and I am still undecided about the whole "group doctor" thing. There are 9 in my practice. I have met all of them, and like all of them except one; the one who, when I was bleeding in my 8th week, told me (coldly), "Well, you'll just have to wait it out for the next 72 hours to see if you miscarry," and hung up. Without a goodbye, or a "I realize it's not easy for you to hear this..." or something a little more cushiony. (I need cushion. Sugarcoat away.) The funny thing is, the more I seem to not like her, the more I seem to keep getting an appointment with her. The practice is uberbusy, and they really have to work at getting you in for an appointment. You can request a doctor, but if you're looking for a certain time, you gotta take what you can get. My group has a really good reputation and the women's hospital is down the street. But I've found that not all of the doctors in the practice have the same opinion on everything. So now it's kind of like a personal joke to me, I poll the doctors at every appointment, asking them all the same questions I've asked the others, because I am interested to know all their different answers. Some are passionate about certain foods, others couldn't care less. I've found that two out of three believe whole-heartedly in the progesterone shots I am taking. One said it probably doesn't matter. At my last visit, I found out I was now considered a "high risk" patient because I saw the big red letters splashed across every page of my chart. That's funny, because when I asked the doctor I had in the previous visit if I would be considered "high risk", he said, "No. We don't base a high risk pregnancy on previous pregnancies. And since there are no problems popping up right now, you're ok." I asked a different doctor after seeing my new label on my chart if it was simply because I started the shots, and she said, "No, it's because you had a previous premature birth and you were pre-eclamptic last pregnancy."

Hmmm.

So, as a journalist, I can appreciate the group thing because it is like getting a free second opinion at every visit, and from this, combined with my own research, I can flush out my own opinion. It's important to be your own advocate, after all. And it's a little scary to wonder that if I had one doctor, with one opinion, forever and ever, would I be getting the right care? On the flip side, that doctor would know me very well, instead of the nine doctors who randomly get me and have to see my chart to remember my name. And again, on the flip side, I could know my one doctor really well, but on "labor day" he/she could be unavailable and I would deliver with some doctor I've never met ever. Oh the quandry. I just can't figure it out. I do like the intimacy of just one doctor. But I do like the fact that no matter what, in a group, I will know my delivering doctor, whomever I get. I guess I wish that as a group, they were more unified in their answers and views, even on things as simple as which herbal teas to avoid.

So here's the question, because I am so curious to find out what you other mothers out there think.
Please leave me a comment and tell me what you think!

ICE CREAM ICE CREAM!

2007-06-22T14:39:00.000-04:00

You may know this about me, but I am obsessed with ice cream. I wish I weren't, but I just give in to it. This week, it's Klondikes, but next week, who knows? It's ice cream roulette. Anyway, the wonderful also-pregnant ladies at 5 Minutes for Mom are hosting another round of contests for 4th of July, and one of the prizes is an ice cream maker! Yummy! Sign me up for that! Head on over there and check it out -- and the best part is, you don't have to be a blogger to win anything! Good luck!

Thank you ma'am may I have another!

2007-06-21T15:19:00.000-04:00

In addition to grass day, don't forget, yesterday was also "butt shot day". Yes, how exciting for me. At least I had a new yard full of green grass to look forward to when I got home from my Dr's appointment. I am happy to report that the shot, as scary as the crazy ridicu-needle is, (have I told you how long this thing is???!!!) did not hurt one bit! It actually hurt more to get blood drawn for tests later on in the appointment. All that worry for nothing. I have no problem whatsoever, driving in every week to get that shot. None. It was almost a pleasure. As long as the needle is, it's actually very skinny, and the skinnier the needle is, the less it hurts, no matter how deep it goes. I hadn't thought of that. But honestly, when a doctor calls a shot "painful", you start to panic. Doctors are known for saying "This won't hurt a bit". So when they actually say the word "painful" you're looking forward to a kind of torture. But no pain whatsoever. Very excited about this fact. I also was happy to learn, that despite my growing chest, which has hit the "d" mark by the way (yayyy!!! Pregnancy is great!!), I actually lost two pounds. How can that be? There is no shortage of Klondike Bars in my freezer, I can tell you that much. My little weightloss means I have only gained 3 pounds this pregnancy. Sweet! I have found, though, that when I eat my meals the same time I feed Poops, I'm so busy prepping and cutting for him, and eat my meal in between feeding him, that it takes me longer to eat and I get full much faster. I wonder if that's it. He's been using the fork very well, but it requires me to "load" and "reload" it for him. I remembered a few weeks back thinking that I have really embarked on the "mom eats last and when she does, it's cold" phase of life. Like in A Christmas Story, when everyone keeps asking for seconds and the mom doesn't get a bite in edgewise. (Ralphie says something like, "my mom hasn't eaten a hot meal in years".) I have already had that experience when we were at a gathering a couple weeks ago where I was so concerned about everyone else eating that I made a plate for everyone else, but by the time I got up to go fill up my plate there was nothing left. Oh the joy! I digress.

We find out if it's a boy or a girl on July 11th!!!!!!!! Three weeks!!!! Holy crap!! I'm really excited. I guess I have a feeling that we'll see a tiny little "something" between its legs, but I can't figure out if that's because I'm so used to everyone in my life saying "it's a boy!" or not. But either way, I have nursery-theme contenders for both, so I am really excited to get started on that room. Of course, it would really be nice to be able to buy the beautiful dresses I see in the little girl's department around Easter time (cute little tiny shiny shoes and hats and tights my God!) but if not this time, I can wait. If it's a boy, we'll probably go for the tie-breaker. But any way it goes, ever, we will be blessed. Happy First Day of Summer everyone! Here's to a very, very, slow-slash-non-existent Hurricane Season!)

Loooove... In the Afternoon

2007-06-21T14:37:00.000-04:00

OH how I've been waiting and waiting and waiting. Two years, and finally, we have grass. Yesterday was officially, Grass Day. There's nothing more exciting than knowing I can just go outside and play with my little boy, in my yard, sans fruit trees, sans anthills, sans bugs and spiders. This day has been a culmination of work and money and sweat and dirty fingernails. Unfortunately, this isn't a true before and after photo session; I wish I had taken more pictures of the "real" before, right after we bought it, which contained fruit trees, a giant, scary, ominous pine tree, tons of ferns and jungle-like foliage, and of course, dead grass. (Somehow, the total "girl" in me saw past all of that, and saw the potential of the house when we bought it.) Anyway, I'm so excited I just can't contain myself! Here's our new backyard. We had it leveled off a little because it was very slopey before and there were once three fruit trees in the back that came with big giant spiders that liked to come inside the house to cool off. We got rid of those (and subsequently the spiders--thank God. I'm an arachnophobe would you believe). There was also a big black, deteriorating porch surrounding that slab, but we took it all down. We intend on screening it all in again one day, correctly, but for now, we'll probably just put a table, chairs and umbrella outside with some lights and a couple a tiki torches and enjoy the openness. Also, we added that fence you see all the way on the right.

BEFORE/AFTER

More Backyard (from the other side)

BEFORE/AFTER

And here's the front yard. I so wish I had taken the "real" before pictures. There was a ton of crazy ferns and foliage covering the left side of the yard up near the house, under that oak tree you see there and my mom and I dug through it all and got rid of it. We also took out a giant pine that was in the middle of the yard that was starting to die and was a lightning rod. It's literally like a normal yard now! I'm so proud. It feels like Christmas.

BEFORE/AFTER

Tiny Kicks and a Couple Steps and a Fall

2007-06-17T21:55:00.000-04:00

I cannot confirm this, but I believe I have felt the official flutter of "Large Onion" and this time I am quite sure that it wasn't gas. With Aidan, there was no question. He kicked me hard. I was on the phone with my mom and he kicked me and really didn't stop till he came out. But with this one, it's not as clear. It could have been gas bubbles, but really I don't think so. I think it was flutters. Cute cute cute baby flutters!! And while Poops still isn't officially walking yet, he did cross the living room on his two very wobbly legs to me today!! He gets too excited and basically ends up tripping over himself usually, but he made it this time! And I burst into tears and hugged him so hard! And turned to joyous husband and said "Happy Father's Day!" How fitting.

Thursday night, however, was a heartbreaker. Husband and I went out to get him some new clothes and we got a phone call from my mother-in-law who was watching Poops. Now, she never calls us while we're out so we both knew something was up as soon as her number popped up. She called to report that Poops had a fall, face-first onto the fireplace hearth. His first big fall and his first shiner. Right under the eye. It could have been so much worse and of course, for that I am thankful that it is what it is and it's already healing nicely. But every time I look at it, that shiner calls out to me, tauntingly, wagging its little shiner finger in my face, saying "Bad mommy! You didn't order that fireplace cover yet! Bad, bad mom!" Ugh. Poor Poops. My heart hurts just thinking about it.

In other, very exciting news, sod is now going in Wednesday, the same day of my next doctor's visit and the first butt shot. So, I get a shot in the tuckus and by the time I get home, I'll have a lawn! Bonus! I hope everyone had a wonderful Father's Day weekend! We sure did around here! This year was golf year for husband (last year was bbq year--I don't know what I'm doing hitting the two big guns so early! I'm in trouble for next year!!). Anyway, he got lots of golf stuff and played a round of golf and we had lots of family time and yummy food. Happy Father's Day!

2007-06-17T21:51:00.000-04:00

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO MY DADDY AND MY HUSBAND, MY TWO FAVORITE MEN IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!

AND A VERY HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL THE OTHER DADDIES OUT THERE! LOVE AND BLESSINGS TO ALL OF YOU!

The Yard Makeover

2007-06-14T09:36:00.000-04:00

Is officially set to begin today! Excavators are coming to rip up the existing lawn that is filled with anthills/brown patches, the new fence is going in and the ground will be filled with fertilizer to accomodate the impending new grass. Unfortunately, "Grass Day" is being postponed to Monday (which makes Sunday "Grass Eve) because things just happen that way. So this time next week, I will be posting a slew of pictures to include my new yard. This is so much more exciting for me than it is for you, I know. I apologize. I never knew there would be a time in my life that I would salivate over things like a yard, a knitting class, or an afternoon tea, not to mention get excited about a poopy diaper or making my own baby food, but alas, this is me. I don't even ask anymore. I just embrace it.

All of these renovations, along with Poops, and the cleaning on top of it has made me a bad blogging buddy, and I'm sorry! I stink! By they way, still no walking yet. Poops is now 14 months old and I think he just plain old refuses to walk because he crawls at such a lightning speed and I don't think he thinks he could ever walk that fast! People tell me all the time that I'll be sorry I wished for walking, but honestly, I don't think he could possibly get much faster! He's into everything already! The only difference would be that I wouldn't have to carry him everywhere. What a convenience to be able to put him down and have him follow me from the car to the house with all the groceries! Of course, whatever his pace is, is okay with me. But I wouldn't mind me some walking about now!

Day of Rest

2007-06-13T14:39:00.000-04:00

I'm taking the rest of the day off. Since Sunday, I've been going at 110 mph, painting, cleaning, painting, folding, painting, cleaning, chasing. The floors aren't done (of course--that's my story) but the bathroom is! Yay! Just need hubby to put up the new mirror/slash/medicine cabinet and it will be complete. I love it!! Painting projects are never as simple as they look. Anyway, how much do I love random acts of kindness? I was running through the grocery store today and was at the very end of my list with my full basket, Pampers and all, and about to make a terrible decision to purchase an Entenmann's crumby cheesy something, when an old man walked up to me, said hello to Poops, and said, "Wow! Looks like you've got a lot of groceries!" And then handed me his $5 off coupon. He said he used a few this week already. It was the sweetest thing ever! And to boot, he saved me from making a poor caloric decision! It just warms my cockles. It seemed like everyone who was out and about was just buzzing and bustling with smiles and happiness. So nice. I'm off to nap while I can.

Step One

2007-06-11T21:09:00.000-04:00

Is done. They have poured the concrete to extend our back porch. This is very exciting. Oooh and they are preserving some of the "leftovers" from the previous residents for me, a beautiful pygmy palm tree (it's little) and a few very leafy plants with large red and green leaves. There was a whole "greenhouse" thingy in the back that was overgrown with ferns and old, moldy stones. It was charming at first and seemed to have potential, but the screen and the frame around it were all disgusting and harboring possible insects, so we removed it to extend our existing patio. Anyway, the plants that have nicely survived will go in an area tba of the newly landscaped non-brown-patch lawn to be put in next week. Yes, next week now. I was crushed at first when they pushed it back (I mean, how cool would it be to have a new lawn by Father's Day????) But the excavator bailed at the last minute and now our landscaper has to bring in another one to do all the grating (so exciting, isn't this??) before they can lay the sod (we have a very slopey backyard that we have to level off a bit). I have taken quite a few "before" pictures, but I am actually a little embarrassed by our terrible lawn, so I will post them when I have "after" pictures so I don't have to be as embarrassed. Anyway, enough about the lawn. Let's talk about the inside of the house. I know, so riveting. But I am entirely consumed by fixing up my house right now! It's absolutely crazy! I will be sitting here, trying to relax, taking a break, completely exhausted, but the molding will be calling me from the bathroom, "Paint me! You just painted the whole rest of the bathroom, and here I am, old and off-white and I need a fresh coat! Paint me now!" And I will have to answer the call. There is just no other way. So my bedroom and bathroom are in a current disarray from said painting. I wanted the bathroom "spa-like" like the cover of a Real Simple, baby blue with white trim. I bought new fixtures, towel bars, shower curtain rod, got rid of the old yellowing medicine cabinet, painted the bathroom, the closets, the ceiling, the molding and the cabinets, (oh! and no worries about a pregnant woman painting--I've taken many precautions including keeping it all very well venthilated, wearing mask, fan running, lots of breaks, and no sleeping in my room with the master bathroom's fumes leaking in). And after one more coat of paint on the cabinets and a few touch-ups, I'll be ready to officially move everything back in! Very exciting. Also, my mom and I went to tea on Saturday, which was a lot of fun. We love to visit tea rooms so much (this one was probably our least favorite of the bunch) but afternoon tea really is so much fun and so girly. To the place's credit, they did have hats and feather boas for us to dress up in while we drank our chocolate-vanilla-coconut tea. So before I bore you to death, which I am sure that I am, I will head off to read other blogs and then paint that second coat that's calling out to me as we speak. Hope everyone had a great weekend! One more week till sod and butt shots! Yippeee!

Happy Friday

2007-06-08T08:46:00.000-04:00

It's one week before what I'll now call "Grass Eve". Next Friday will be Grass Eve and Saturday will be Grass Day. This is a monumentous occasion for me, the fact that we're getting grass. We're going to have a yard that doesn't suck!! I don't know if you remember or not, but last October right around Halloween, I did a posting about how one of the neighborhood kids called our house a "ghost house." A little girl had left her umbrella in our yard and my husband was in the driveway as she went by on her bike and he asked her if it was her umbrella. She said, "yes! thanks!" and my husband overheard her tell her friend the following as they rode away: "Wow! Someone does live there! I have to tell Billy it's not a ghost house!"

Egad. My worst nightmare. We were the ghost house in the neighborhood! How mortifying!! We realized we had spent so much time working on the inside that we had to really get moving on the outside too. Boy are kids honest! That was quite a motivator. Well since then, our home has gone through quite a metamorphasis. We've painted it a pretty yellow instead of a crappy old cream/brown, and we painted the shutters white. We got rid of a very scary tall pine tree that was dying and trimmed back all our trees. We cleaned out the yard completely so that all the ferns and overgrown brush were eliminated. Now, it's a cute house with very crappy grass. Brown dead patches and weeds everywhere and ant hills, and very little actual grass. The heartbreaking part of it was two years before we moved in, the previous owners had actually put in all new sod. But it wasn't taken care of and the weeds and ants took over. I don't know why I didn't see this as a problem when I fell in love with the house; in fact, I overlooked a whole lot of flaws that my husband and I have had to fix over the past two years. I just don't know what it is, something happened when I walked through the door for the first time with the realtor. I thought, "This is it. This is the house." I could just tell. I don't know why. I went home and went to bed and planned out how to decorate every room in my head (and it is turning out just like I pictured--by the way). But boy did it need work. The carpets needed to be ripped out (my husband put down more wood floor), there was wallpaper everywhere, literally, (the doors, the sockets...), there was wood paneling in one room, the skylights needed replacing, we had to tent the house for termites, fix the roof, boy this is a long list of stuff. But I loved the layout. I loved that you had to step down into the living room. I loved that there was wood flooring in the family room. I loved that there were three large bedrooms, and the master bedroom was more like a "master wing" than a room. I loved the split floorplan. And I loved the location. Right in between my work and my husband's work. And near everything, malls, Target, good schools, the beaches, a great church. Our little neighborhood had a Main Street, with lots of trees and a cute little historic downtown area. And despite all our work, a lot more has to be done. This weekend, I'm giving the master bathroom a long-awaited makeover. The guest bathroom still has to be done (I flushed yesterday and the toilet handle broke off). We need to update the kitchen. Then little stuff, like fixtures and bookshelves.

I guess I grossly underestimated the amount of money we'd have to put into this house. My husband may secretly want to kill me. But I really do love it here. I love that we've transformed a ghost house into a cute little home. And next week, we'll the yard to go with it. I feel like all of our work (and money!) is finally paying off. After this, we can take our time on all the other stuff. It's a home! Finally!

Thursday Thirteen #27

2007-06-07T08:26:00.000-04:00

It's not the holidays or Thanksgiving or anything, but for some reason (maybe because of the hormones) I've been feeling especially nostalgic and thankful, which is why I'm writing this TT about:

13 Things I'm Thankful For

1. Life. I love life. I'm lucky. I've had a great time so far and I've done everything I have wanted to and in the right order. Now I'm working on fulfilling another life-long dream (to be revealed at a later date) that I am so excited about! It has a little something to do with another couple things I'm thankful for: my mom and a cup of tea. Life is good.

2. Lipgloss. Not a day without it. Beauty in a tube.

3. Being able to stay at home. I was watching the noon news a couple weeks ago, longingly, thinking of how I missed news and covering trials and big stories, and the rush. Then a second later, I look down and Poops takes a step toward me. A step I'd have surely missed if I were stuck in that stuffy, noisy old newsroom!

4. Living in Florida. I love it here. The beach is beautiful. Occasionally when you drive across the causeway, you can see dolphins swimming alongside of it. I always look for the dolphins. Although rainy season is about to start and those afternoon lightning storms and downpours are a killer.

5. My mom, dad and sister. They're some of my favorite people in the whole world. We're all a little bit crazy and I love it! That's what makes us a family, right?

6. Moving back to Florida! I spent a lot of time away but always knew I'd have to move back when I settled down. Your turn, Aunt Anna Mary! (my sister).

7. A yard. Next week we will have a pretty yard! We've done so much to our house on the inside (turned out to be a bit of an 80's fixer-upper) but now it's time for some grass! I will be able to take Poops outside to play and sit outside and have coffee and not have to see ant hills, dead grass patches and weeds!

8. Klondike Bars.

9. Flowers. I just bought the most beautiful bouquet with orange roses and they opened up and were spectacular! Oh, I so can't wait to start a garden that by the way, I will vow not to kill.

10. Nesting. I'm running around like a madwoman obsessively putting finishing touches on our living room, bathroom, and office. Hanging pictures, putting up curtains, cleaning out closets. Seems a little early for nesting, but I guess if I get things done now, I can relax later.

11. That second trimester second wind. It is here! Sweet!

12. My babies. I'm about to be a mother of two. Holy Crap! What a ride this is.

13. Saving the best for last: my husband. A lot of people do not believe in soulmates or "the one." I do. I believe we were made to fit together. I knew it 11 years ago when I met him and I know it now. He makes our family perfect.

Peanut Butter Jelly Time Peanut Butter Jelly Time Peanut Butter Jelly Time

2007-06-06T09:47:00.000-04:00

EEK!

2007-06-05T14:29:00.000-04:00

I got my shipment of progesterone shots in yesterday. I start them next week. I cannot express to you exactly how big the needle actually is. The part that goes in my butt. It is as long, or possibly longer, than the actual syringe part. I have never seen a needle so big in my life. Except in cartoons when the Dr. Frankenstein-type character is about to deliver a lethal dose. For the first time ever, I was thankful that I have a little bit of a cushion back there because if I had a tuckus like, say, my sister (who has none whatsoever) it is quite possible that I could hit an organ. It's ginormous! And I am not a wimp when it comes to shots, either. Since blood disorders run in my family, I had the entire panel done on me during my last pregnancy. So many tests that the lady at the lab actually gave me a "Way to Go!" ribbon. Shots don't really bother me. They're a little uncomfortable, but they're necessary. But this needle is seriously large. And then that got me thinking. Are there small, medium and large needles and the doctor secretly decides which size I should get according to my rumpsize? If I had a smaller tushy, would I have gotten the smaller needle? Hmm. Well if I'm taking these ridicu-needles every week and the baby still comes early, I'm going to be pissed. These are shots on steroids.

Lastly -- A Couple More Pics

2007-05-31T14:37:00.000-04:00

Poops welcoming Uncle Zach back from Iraq!

Poops meeting Auntie Anna and Uncle Zach's new puppy, Humphrey

Here he is having his very first black and white cookie. A first to be documented for sure!!!

Finally, Poops taking a stand on his own! Another first! Yayyyy!!! He was just so darned proud of himself!!

A Mental Spring Cleaning

2007-05-31T13:08:00.000-04:00

I am so in desperate need of a spring cleaning. I have had the hairdo and the spa day, but now I need the 'mental' spring cleaning. You know all those situations that you've found yourself in that you couldn't find the right words to say and you just sort of "let it go"? Or sat there with your mouth dropped open because you couldn't believe your ears and couldn't think up a good reply? But you're still kicking yourself for not saying a word about it, and you continue to replay the scenario in your head over and over again with that brilliant comeback you have thought up for the conversation that should have happened? This is me. I have conversations that I should have had that date back years ago that litter my head to this day. I even have comebacks in my head ready for possible situations that never really arise because I despise the fact that I can never think of the right thing to say when it comes time to say it. I am always stuck there thinking, "this person can't possibly be being mean to me right now, I must be taking it the wrong way." But of course, that person is being mean and I am a complete wimp for not only giving the person the benefit of the doubt, but for not standing up for myself! Exclamation mark!

I am, however, getting better at this. But all of these thoughts swirling around in my head really stress me out and even keep me up at night. In the latest issue of Real Simple magazine, a staple and savior in my life, the writers tackled the issue of a mental spring cleaning and suggested that you write down those things that clutter and fry your mind and throw them away. Right now, I'm thinking of that woman in the hospital last year who refused to sell me a $4 hose for my breastpump because she was helping someone who had an appointment and I didn't. She did, however, get up to help someone else who had an appointment earlier that morning, but again wouldn't take the extra 5 seconds to help me, even after I tearfully begged. I waited an hour, meantime, with my boobs all engorged and busting, on fire and leaking. I couldn't nurse Poops because he was in the NICU and it was shut down because another baby was being flown in, and I hadn't seen him in more than a day because that was the first day I actually had the audacity to actually leave the hospital to sleep in my bed the night before and when I returned, the NICU was closed. (Never made that mistake again by the way.) Damn hag. I had actually begged her to help me and she still refused. And the only thing I could come up with when she finally did sell me that stupid part was "next time I have an emergency, I'll be sure to make an appointment!" Ooh. What a zinger. Doesn't she know it's a women's hospital? And not every woman in there is having the time of her life with a bouncing new baby? And that hormones and milk and estrogen and crying and issues like complications and prematurity actually happen to women who give birth there? OK lady, I'm letting you go now.

Or that phone call I never made to the guy at the dealership who "fixed" our car, saying that the flat tire we had had nothing to do with a piece of wood shoved into the rubber and then didn't bother to re-inflate it for us. He finally did re-inflate it but only because I had to ask him to, but of course the tire was flat a half-hour later. Why? Because the wood punctured the tire, of course. I took it somewhere else for a $25 patch. Am I really as stupid as I look? Oh yeah, I buried the lead. This is the same guy who had to digitize a new set of keys for me because I had accidentally thrown the only one we had out, and the next day the car wouldn't start. After I had it towed back to the dealership, he fixed some new problem that magically cropped up and was "purely coincidence" for $400. Coincidence my ass. Letting you go too, man.

This feels good.

OK, next, my HR person at my old job, who told me I had to come back to work from maternity leave after 6 weeks if I was cleared medically from my doctor, even if my six-week premature infant was only technically age 0. (My return date was his due date). "Yep, sorry!" she said. "That's policy!" Fortunately, I got clearance from the pediatrician who gave me until Poops turned four months old and it turned out that I actually never went back to work anyway. Hence, I never got a chance to air my grievances about how awful she was in the days following his birth. So here it is. Letting it go.

Oh and here's one that's sure to be TMI. Last year, when I was six months pregnant I had to have surgery on my knee because I ripped cartilage cleaning my closet and my knee locked in a bended position. Before surgery, all the patients are lined up along a wall on their individual stretcher, with a curtain to separate you for privacy. There were about 10 patients and 4 nurses. I didn't need any help, except, of course, when I had to pee. So I sheepishly asked the nurse to help me to the loo because how much dignity do you have while lying there, unable to walk, in an assless gown? I must have just looked like another annoying face to her, because she pointed to the bathroom across the room and said, "It's right over there." "Yes," I said, "but my knee is locked, that is why I am here, so I need help or perhaps a wheelchair." (I was wheeled in on one after all.) "We don't have wheelchairs in here!" she barked at me, and then yelled in a huff, "Well, you'll just have to use a bed pan!" Oh how embarrassing. Having to pee on a thing in your bed with a patient on either side of you and only a teensy curtain separating you. Yes, I am sensitive. Maybe too much so. But I will always believe in old-fashioned things like customer service and, when you're a patient, bedside manner. Many people forget that they're treating someone's sister, mother, teacher, legislator, father, brother, grandfather, whatever. These are people, with actual feelings. And in the hospital, most are scared (because maybe they are six months pregnant having surgery) and most don't have much dignity left because they're naked and poked at and need help with simple things like eating, getting up to use the restroom and showering. We may all just be another annoying face to you, but outside of this gown and this bedpan, we are people with jobs and friends, family and homes and real clothes and dignity.

You should try this, this is really working for me!

So I guess that's it for now! I don't really want this to be a blog for my bitch-sessions, but a little spring cleaning doesn't hurt, does it? Now, I'll let these little complaints fly off into the cyber void and I will shove them back out of my mind if they try to return. I guess sometimes I really want people to know that they've hurt someone's feelings--I would really want to know because I would really want to fix it. But since I don't know their names, this is the next best thing. Plus, I am pretty sure my husband is sick of hearing me refer to these things over and over again in conversation (they really do plague me!). But now I find I am a little different, a little more jaded, and a little less confident in humanity. It's such a pity. Now, I get names, and if I am wronged I say something right there and more often than not I surprise myself and find that they've said something that they did not mean in the way that I took it. And if I can't figure out what to say, I call back later or write my signature "strongly worded letter." Which totally makes me feel better too and works! If you have any mental spring cleaning to do, I strongly recommend you do this too, so you can let it all go. It really is freeing! Feel free to do it here, or on your blog and let me know about it (or not). Let's clear our minds, friends! And start over fresh.

Thursday Thirteen #26 - The Comedy of Errors Edition

2007-05-30T18:17:00.001-04:00

We got back Tuesday from my brother-in-law's welcome home party after his safe return from Iraq (Yay!!!) and as much as it was wonderful, there were, of course, a comedy of errors and mishaps throughout the trip, which is par for the course when traveling in my family. So here are:

13 Crazy Things That Happened On Our Trip to D.C.

1. Between my parents, husband, baby and I who were traveling together, we had an entire luggage cart full of luggage. Of course, we realized we forgot one piece of it at the airport after we had arrived at the car rental place via shuttle. Husband had to ride shuttle all the way back driven by crazy man to retrieve it.

2. Had to upgrade rental car to minivan because of all the luggage, a minivan which turned out to have apparently problematic brakes. Every time we stopped or slowed down a terrible grinding sound would roar through the car and the little red "brake" light would come on. Got replacement the next day from company that was less than sympathetic and which did not want to take responsibility.

3. Arrived at my sister's house that night where we were staying after airport/car incident. It was midnight. She left the key in an inconspicuous place for us but it was so inconspicuous that even we couldn't find it and there were no lights on anywhere. After 1/2 hour of looking and 25 messages to her cell phone, we left and got a hotel room at the hotel we were checking into Friday.

4. The room had only one bed. My parents slept in two rollaways that were brought up and we looked like the family of Charlie Bucket from Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, all laying around in different beds crammed into one room like we haven't moved for the last 20 years.

5. I woke up with one of the most horrendous migraines ever on Friday morning, the day we were supposed to shop for my brother-in-law's coming home party. (I think I did not hydrate enough when we traveled Thursday.) Unfortunately I didn't catch the headache with my migraine stuff by the time we had to leave and despite taking it every four hours, I felt like my head was going to explode and I was going to keel over.

6. Annoyed my shopping-partner-mother to no end because I was moving at a snail's pace. Went to Target, lunch at a BBQ place, Sam's Club, Party City and a grocery store. The trip should have taken two hours. It took six. (My dad returned to my sister's house by the way and found the key in the daylight. Exactly where she said it would be.)

7. At the grocery store, in my dazed and confused migraine state, I unloaded all my groceries onto a conveyor belt in a line that wasn't open and stood there waiting for the cashier that never came (in my defense-the sun was shining on the light and made it look like it was on!!). Unfortunately, a few others joined me in line and when I realized it wasn't open, all the other lines that were open had gotten real long and the guy behind me yelled at me, "You made me do this!"

8. I accidentally took another woman's groceries and headed out of the grocery store the wrong way, knocking into a man's cart along the way like a complete drunkard.

9. Saturday, on the day of the party, we all had forgotten to get directions to the restaurant. An argument ensued between the men about what to do (my uncle: "I think I know where it is, let's just drive and figure it out!" my husband: "We can't be late! We're setting up!" and there were some expletives uttered.) So we decided in the end to have my dad take a cab and we would all follow.

10. Smart, right? But when my dad got out of the cab, we had all forgotten we put the stroller in the trunk. The stroller drove away and we didn't know the cab company's name or anything about the cab.

11. That was my only place to keep Poops when we were setting up for the after-party at my sister's house (or when we went anywhere, really). He got into everything as we raced around to set up everything in 20 minutes before everyone got there. It took a village. I was a sweaty mess.

12. We spent Saturday night and all of Sunday calling every cab company we could find in the yellow pages and talking to our hotel to find out which cab companies work there. My cousin had somehow remembered the name of the cab and it was so small it wasn't in the yellow pages (it was in the white). We left a message. I summoned the universe to deliver the stroller to us, and would you believe, the cabbie called us back Monday (a miracle!!) and brought it to us. Of course, it was about 1/2 hour after we had already bought another one.

13. Finally, why wouldn't we decide to have fish the night before we left to fly home? Let's just say someone in our party had faulty fish and we'll leave it at that. It was not a good day to travel for that person to say the least, and we all had to be out the door and on the road by 4 am for our early flight.

So in sum, it wasn't a trip, it was an adventure! It's a good thing we can all laugh about it now! Happy TT!!

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We're Baaaack!

2007-05-30T13:18:00.001-04:00

As fun as this trip was, it's good to be home, sleeping in my own bed, using my own shower and not eating out at a restaurant for every meal. Ahhhh. Of course, the house is a mess, the laundry is done and in true me-fashion not folded yet, dishes are piled in the sink, you know the story. But it's my house, not a tiny hotel room packed with four people and a baby. Still waiting on second trimester second wind. Has not kicked in yet. Very disappointed. Poops continues to stand and is extremely proud of himself. He's also knocking out another milestone: the garbage disposal that was my son is now becoming a picky eater! I hoped I would never see the day. If he doesn't like the taste or the texture of something, he just sticks out his tongue and lets the food roll right off it into his lap. A lovely new habit. Love it! My dish is becoming a refuge for his partially chewed food.

So the random acts of kindness continued in D.C. for my brother-in-law, even after my last posting. Someone left the book "1776" on their rocking chair out front with a note that said "Thank You" and the little note was a bookmark for a passage they underlined about thanking our soldiers for delivering to us the freedom that we enjoy. I cannot believe the support that they have found in their community, it was just so wonderful that I cannot express my own gratitude for the true loveliness and kindess that people have shown them after such a long, hard road that they both traveled these past 9 months. (Pregnant lady tearing up again).

I told you it was really a sight to behold to see the flags lining the streets for him and I finally have a second to post some pictures of it.

HAPPY HOMECOMING, BROTHER IN LAW!!!

2007-05-28T11:40:00.000-04:00

We're in Washington, D.C. right now and it has been one big adventure to say the least. I alluded to our trip last week but I couldn't say where we were going because we were coming up for my BROTHER IN LAW'S surprise welcome home party and he reads the blog sometimes and I am not a good secret-keeper. It's also why my sister and I have been on blogging hiatus. As always on our family trips, there were a multitude of mishaps which I will blog about later (faulty brakes on our rental car, leaving luggage behind, losing our stroller, etc etc). But there's so much good news, and it is soooo good I must say because I was crying on and off all day Saturday but I am quite sure that it was a mix of hormones and happiness (I can't imagine the sheer joy that my sister and brother-in-law's family were experiencing simultaneously). First, we had a welcome home party with family at his favorite place in the whole world: Capitol City Brewery. He had no idea we were all here at all (along with a news crew!) After dinner, all the women took off early (using excuses like putting kids to bed, letting the guys hang out for a beer, yada yada) and instead we went back to their house to decorate for the after-party to include their friends too. When the guys rolled up with Zach, not only were there flags lining the streets, there was a group of men and women, part of the Patriot Guard Riders, holding flags lining the streets, their neighbors came out and we were all ringing cowbells (more cowbell!) It was a sight to behold! HE IS HOME!! SAFE AND SOUND!! People still walk by and come up to their place to read the banner draped across the front of their condo. It is all so touching. Like the people who come up and shake his hand and say "thank you" to him. And yesterday a woman passing by in her car stopped, put the car in reverse to read the banner outside, saluted from the driver's seat, and drove off. I get tears in my eyes just thinking about it. I don't even think she knew we were watching from inside. To top everything off this weekend, we were all sitting around their new condo and Poops just got up by himself in the middle of the floor and stood for the first time!!!!! No hands! Finally! Now we are just waiting for him to take a few steps.

FOX5 in Washington, D.C. did a story on his homecoming and how my sister coped with his deployment and you can see it here. It really is hilarious! Not to mention, Poops makes his first cameo appearance in the video of the welcome home.

Finally, today is Memorial Day, and as one soldier returns home safely, we must remember the men and women still fighting overseas and the many who have lost their lives. We pray for you everyday and love all of you! Thank you for your service!

Unfair Idol

2007-05-22T23:08:00.001-04:00

I have always been a Jordin fan. Last week, I became a Blake fan. (Obviously so did a lot of people). So naturally I thought it would be a tough race to the finish. Until the last song. I just have to ask (in a very loud voice with a curse word or two placed in between): WHY WOULD SOMEONE MAKE BLAKE SING THAT SONG???? "This is My Now." ?????????? What?????
I wanted Jordin to win but not like this. I really think that giving a Christian-rock sounding song to a Maroon 5 beatboxer is pure sabotage and just plain wrong. This is the type of song that Jordin lives to sing. She, of course, was brilliant at it and she even cried at the end. It was totally her song. It is a girly, voicy song and the only male who would have sounded good singing this song would be Clay Aiken. And you could just tell that not only was it not a Blake song and that he sounded ridiculous singing it (all who were in attendance watching it at my house cringed the entire time), but that he hated it just as much as we did hearing it! I am sad. Blake was completely hosed. I mean, yes, it is a singing competition and Jordin has proven to be the best singer in the competition. But come on! This is a million bazillion dollar show. I am sure that they would have the resources to come up with two songs, one to suit each singer in the finale. Could you imagine if Chris Daughtry was in the top two last season and had to sing that pile of crap? I am finding myself actually typing hard at the keys which means I am apparently more passionate about this than I thought as I punch away. Of course it may be because it's 11:20 and I have to hightail it to bed because Poops is going to be up at the buttcrack of dawn and no matter how often I wake up early I will never ever in my life be a "morning person". But anyway, that's my feeling on the subject. Jordin wins. Blake was hosed. Unfair Idol. And Colonel Randy Jackson looked like he was about to take part in a Civil War re-enactment.

On another note (ba dum chhhh) it's been another really busy week. I had a follow up doctor's appointment today since my high blood pressure two weeks ago which I am happy to report appears to be a fluke, according to today's readings. I have purchased a blood pressure machine and try to take my blood pressure multiple times throughout the day (it's interesting to see my blood pressure after a tiff with husband -- which is surprisingly not high despite the feeling of boiling blood) but it has not been alarming once and that's a good thing. (41 weeks and I mean it!) And, it's the last week of my first trimester (yay!!!! two weeks to butt shots!) and I have only gained 5 pounds despite the consumption of Chinese food, pizza, ice cream, soda, donuts, (please stop me, I'm showing the world my terrible eating) and other indiscretions (yay me!)

I have highlighted my hair and it is VERY blonde in many many places. I have for several years now turned my light mousy brown hair into a red-slash-auburn shade so that is what everyone is very used to. But I have decided I needed a change and I am going lighter and let me tell you, light it is! I have to get used to seeing myself in the mirror. Twice now I thought someone else was walking toward me.

Also, we're going out of town Thursday and I've been getting ready for that. My very best friend and her boys are staying with us this week, so that means trips to the zoo and the beach. And finally, our car is in the shop and husband has started classes for his MBA. It's been crazy around here! We like to lump everything into the same week. Lastly, Poops continues to increase his vocabulary which is very exciting to me. I am convinced (and a little scared) that I may not be able to pick up on this new "baby" language which is really just one sound in a multiple-syllable word. I worry that one needs special hearing to understand it. I watch in awe as other parents listen to tiny voice saying "ed ayne" (what sounds like jibberjabber babbletalk to me) and then say in return, "Yes! That is the red train! Very good!" I worry he is probably saying much more than I can actually "hear". So until I can actually write them all down on a regular piece of paper, this is what I have deciphered so far: Mama (sadly only in association with wanting food or more food), Dada (always in glee. little boogie.), door (pronounced "Duh"), kitty cat (pronounced "Keeeeeeeee!"), sky (pronounced "KYE!"), banana (pronounced "nana") and I think that's it. We're getting there. I have been trying to teach him the following: "Excuse me, Mother, but if you wouldn't mind perhaps handing me another piece of toast at your earliest convenience, I would be most appreciative," but it hasn't taken yet. Another couple months.

Busy Busy Busy

2007-05-18T08:34:00.000-04:00

It's been a busy week! I haven't been on in a few days except to wish the Moms a Happy Mother's Day. We had a really fun one. My mom, mother-in-law, grandma, aunt, sister-in-law and husbands all converged upon my house and we had a lovely dinner (thanks to my mother-in-law!) and wonderful desserts, which the guys made. (My dad makes an amazing rice pudding that I've been craving for weeks!-- And my uncle made chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwiches, and there were tons of chocolate chip cookies the size of my face left over and let's just say there aren't anymore!) Poops got me the most wonderful softy pink robe from Brookstone and a prenatal massage from the spa (which I am sooo looking forward to tomorrow!) How did he know???? This robe is like heaven. I don't ever want to get dressed which would mean getting out of this wonderful robe. If only I could put clothes on and trapse around in my robe all day anyway. And just so you know, anything that is made of a cloth that is purchased at Brookstone is --in one word-- marvelous. Socks, blankets, robes, pillows, all of it. Marvelous. I digress. But I'm sitting in my robe right now, so I'm blinded.

We had our giant ominous, dangerous pine tree taken out this week which I was surprisingly happy to see go (no more sap stains on the car--no more pine needle carpet on the grass). I am not in the habit of taking out trees--quite the opposite in fact. We moved into our neighborhood because of all the trees. But this one was one of the tallest in the entire neighborhood, and it was split at the top and starting to die and with hurricane season just weeks away, it probably wouldn't have made it through a big storm without crashing through our house, so we removed it just to be safe along with tons of old brush. So our yard is now one step closer to not looking like a jungle and I am so excited at the prospect of taking Poops outside to play in the yard. Yes, our grass and yard is such crap right now that playing outside means going to the park. So sad. But we're close. Next step: new sod.

My feelings on the Gilmore Girls series finale: crushed. The episode was good, but I feel about this series finale like I did about The O.C. I feel like Rory and Lorelai are living life right now in Stars Hollow, just as Ryan and Seth are in Orange County, the only difference is we aren't tuned in. I am so invested in these characters that I feel like they are real people living their lives right now, still. I will miss them so.

Melinda! Shocker! I really thought it was Blake.

Happy Friday! Tomorrow it's off to the spa I go and I can't put it into words just how much I am looking forward to it. This particular spa is one in which you walk around in a robe all day long. No it is not my Brookstone robe, but it is a robe and being allowed to walk about in a robe is a dream of mine as you know. And tomorrow's also a big day for my sister! Her husband's big old Marine boots should be on the ground in North Carolina!! She's headed down there to meet him so I know that will be one big-time emotional day for them. Love you guys!

Do You Still Shop In the Juniors Section?

2007-05-18T08:26:00.000-04:00

My sister is taller than me and paper thin. I am not. I got the short genes and the ones that retain everything (i.e. water, calories, the kitchen sink). But I don't have much up top so I can still every once in a while peruse the Juniors section for a tee-shirt. They're much cuter than the ones in the Misses or Ladies section, so sometimes I feel as if I'm caught between worlds and I don't want to let the Juniors section go. My sister of course still completely gets away with full-blown Juniors-shopping because she's in her mid-20's and still tiny. As my 30's were approaching, it used to be that I would kind of tiptoe into the Juniors section and duck my face behind racks while I tore quickly through styles and sizes. Now, I am getting well into my 30's and probably obviously so, so I don't actually go in (that's just silly!), but if I happen to see a cute shirt in the Juniors section that might have piqued my interest from afar, I might be known to snatch it off the rack and run to the dressing room. So the question is, anyone still shopping in Juniors?

2007-05-13T20:14:00.000-04:00

To everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful day off today!!! And Happy Mother's Day, especially to my mom, my best friend, my confidant, the strongest woman I have ever known. I love you, Mom!

Shot in the Butt

2007-05-10T15:49:00.000-04:00

In a couple of weeks I'll be starting weekly progesterone shots that last through 36 weeks or until the end of my pregnancy whichever comes first (of course I'm counting on an uncomfortable 41 week pregnancy this time around--as I have said and will continue saying until my uncomfortable 41 weeks is up). I was teetering on whether I should do this treatment for a while now, but I've decided to go ahead with it. It's a relatively common injection for women who have had a previous premature birth and are on their second pregnancy. One of the doctors in my group recommended it, and I discussed it with another one of my doctors on Monday and we decided, "why not?" I've read a lot of literature on it and pretty much all of the studies, and they all say the same thing: with no side effects, there is really no reason not to do it. Except that the shot is in the butt and it's described as a "painful shot" and I am a complete wimp. But that's really not a reason to not do it. It's just a reason to dislike doing it. But as long as I'm doing something in a situation I have very little control over anyway, I will have to view this shot in the butt as "empowering" and proactive. It's not entirely clear what the progesterone does, but its successes are pretty good, preventing prematurity in about 34% of at-risk women. That's good news.

But talking to all these people about taking the shots does very little to help me keep my positive "let's-go-41-weeks-attitude" at its maximum, peak level. I've gone between speaking to my doctors' office and my insurance company about a dozen times over the past few days and just talking to them makes the possibility of having another premature birth very real. My insurance company is working to find a home health aide who will come to my house and explain to my husband and I how to use the shots, and also someone who will come to my house weekly after week 22 and track my progress and talk about premature labor with me. I understood all of this, was briefly comforted by the fact that there is treatment and help coming right into my house, then I hung up and cried. On and off for most of the day. And I called my mom during one of those "I want my mommy moments" sobbing to her, "I don't want another premature labor..."

If it weren't for my already raging hormones, I probably would not have completely lost control of myself for the day. And worrying about having another preemie will really only increase the stress and the headaches, which isn't good for anyone. But everyone has to have their moments, right? For the most part, I keep that 41-week attitude and I will after today. I promise. Until I am hunched over with my pants down and my husband is jabbing me in the ass with a needle. Quite a visual, huh? For better or for worse!

Contests Galore!!

2007-05-09T08:34:00.000-04:00

Happy almost Mother's Day all you mommies out there! This is super exciting--the wonderful ladies at 5 Minutes for Mom are holding a slew of more contests! Including one for a mommy makeover book, a baby sling, and my personal favorite, an I-Pod Nano and a box of chocolates!!! I've noticed that I'm one of the only ones left with the dinosaur I-Pod Mini and I just got it two years ago! How can it be obsolete already?? I can't keep up. And, well, the chocolates are just a bonus. So head on over there and enter!

He's Comin Home Folks!

2007-05-08T21:24:00.000-04:00

Remember this mug from my sidebar? That's my brother-in-law and he is on his way home! His big old Marine boots are off the Iraqi ground and officially in the air. My sister is so excited she cries at the mere thought of it! (I wish I could hug you right now AnnaMary!) So head on over to "Old Man Hancock" and send her a thought or two. The homestretch is officially here. Can't wait to see you, Old Man! More cowbell!

Fig Update

2007-05-08T20:28:00.000-04:00

So the fig is doing well, growing and beating away. And meantime I am waiting eagerly for that second trimester second wind because this sitting around in pajamas till 3:30 with pots in the sink watching The Holiday is a little over the top. Yep, looking forward to that energy surge. Last year I had so much energy I was cleaning everything top to bottom and while kneeling around in my closet I tore my cartilage in my knee and needed knee surgery in my sixth month. Oh the terror! (It was a lovely sight, a non-showered me, stuck on the floor, six months pregnant, having to crawl to a phone across the house in complete agony.) Fortunately, I had a great surgeon, but what really did it for me was the phone call I got from one of the OB doctors in my group, who reassured me countless times that the baby would do fine in surgery and that the surgery was necessary. (My knee was locked in place by the torn cartilage. Good times.) Anyway, that is the doctor I had Monday at my checkup. I didn't think he'd remember that fateful conversation last year and how he saved my emotional life, but he said it as soon as he walked in and when there's a group of doctors I always wonder who remembers who and what but he did and that's a good sign. The first thing out of his mouth: "Nothing going on besides a bum knee, I hope?" I went on to thank him, endlessly, in person for calling me back when the nurse said there was no guarantee a doctor would be able to call me back even though surgery is scheduled for 7am the next morning (what kind of crap is that?)

Everything went pretty well Monday except my blood pressure which was a little elevated and the first thing I thought was, crap. Not again. Not this early. I am hoping and praying it really was just a fluke. I was coming off a 14 hour migraine, so was the blood pressure still high because of the migraine? Or did I have a migraine because of the blood pressure? It's the chicken and the egg thing. I'm going back to the doctor in two weeks instead of the usual four to make sure, and I'm having to get a blood pressure machine to check it at home myself, but I'm going with the whole, everything is just fine-thing and I'm still banking on a 41 week pregnancy. Yes. We're going late this time. Fig's gonna take his or her time.

And Then There Were FOUR

2007-05-08T20:18:00.000-04:00

Who will become MY American Idol? Every week I sit here and passionately tell my little tale of who's who. It's not even like I can help it. I like this stupid show and I have an addiction. I need help.

Anyway, in the competition that nets more votes than our national elections (so sad, isn't it?) it is a two song night and a Bee Gees night and there are four left. I can tell you right now, I've heard enough of the Bee Gees on the 8 track player in my parents' van that I wasn't really looking forward to the night because honestly the Bee Gees are the Bee Gees and I just feel funny listening to some fetus singing their songs, especially when they are Bee Gees (plural), not Bee Gee, and they even sound like more than one, so solo Bee Gee? Make me a believer.

The very recently-neckful Melinda sang that Inside and Out song. I have to hand it to the night, these songs sure bring me back to those impressionable ages of 4 and 5 years old. My hippie-looking mother and father coming out of the 60's and wearing their long hair and tight pants (yes, both of them) with their red Scooby Doo van. Anyway, nothing special about Melinda's performances, but honestly, the songs are so mellow, how can anyone completely rock out anyway? Paula called her a "brilliant technician." I think a hot fudge sundae is in order.

What was with Blake's first ridicu-get-up he was wearing? Was he performing some sort of tribute to Dr. Evil who got kicked off last week? Actually, he looked like a cross between Dr. Evil and the evil Chinese villain in Rush Hour. I forget his name. Anyway, still closing my eyes and cringing a bit to the beatboxing. Beatboxing the Bee Gees. Hmm. Not really a fan. I can say with certainty, Blake is not my American Idol. Maybe he's yours. Good luck with that.

So when Lakisha started singing "Staying Alive" I got excited because I forgot about that one! What a great song! I think Blake would have done that song much better than the ones he chose, and definitely better than Lakisha who kind of gospeled it out. Eh. Her second song wasn't much better.

Jordin really has one of the best voices ever. I really love her! (No dress with pants, no dress with pants). But she really does rock. (Must have straightest teeth ever.) Husband just said, "She's gonna win." And sipped his coffee. I think he's right. Of course, I'm not voting so I won't have anything to do with it.

No, Judge Judy appearing as if out of nowhere, nooooo! Worlds are colliding.
Anyway, this week it's Lakisha and Blake as the bottom two. On to the Deadliest Catch. Don't worry, I won't update you on a bunch of crabbers.

Happy Fifth of May!

2007-05-05T21:52:00.000-04:00

I guess I can google why we celebrate Cinco De Mayo, but yes I'm that lazy, so I'll go with the same reason we celebrate St. Patty's Day: another reason to drink! Not me, of course, I had meself a virgin pina colada like a good old pregnant girl which was surprisingly tasty I might add. But I made some margaritas, enchiladas, empanadas, and rounded up some Corona Light and we had ourselves a little fun with some friends. The empanadas were good but the dough I used wasn't my favorite because they really turned out looking just like puffs. I'll have to work on that.

OK I couldn't help myself I had to google it. Cinco De Mayo has something to do with a battle the Mexicans won against the French who landed in Mexico and some traitor Mexican troops. It isn't Mexico's Independence Day, the country actually declared its independence in September (1810). So there you have it. I'll drink to that! (Water, of course).

Thursday Thirteen #25

2007-05-02T21:57:00.000-04:00

13 CRAVINGS AND AVERSIONS THIS PREGNANCY

(And yes, this is a very revealing TT for me, as I am admitting to caving into most, if not all, of my cravings. And they are not good. In fact, as I was writing this, I realized that there are (ahem) more cravings than aversions on this list.)

1. Craving: Loving so much the Fruity and Cocoa Pebbles. My only recourse on this one is the skim milk I use. My Pebbles were just on sale on a buy one/get one free deal this week!! WooHoo!! Yay me! All stocked up!
2. Aversion: Chicken. I can still eat it fried and/or buffalo-style but the chicken soup and the chicken breast and the beautiful chicken I make in the crock pot in my Spanish Chicken recipe are all off the list. I can't even think about it without getting that awful nauseous feeling. Moving on quickly.
3. Craving: Tuna. Not such a good one because there are restrictions on how much tuna one eats because of the mercury in it. But besides the mercury, it's healthy in small quantities. One healthy craving for me! I sweat feverishly until Wednesday each week when I splurge and get me a tuna sub.
4. Aversion: Coffee. Stinky!! I am just not feelin the coffee these days which is probably good because I can ditch the caffeine but man, do I need my caffeine. Big time.
5. Craving: Hot fudge. This one was for a while at the beginning and thankfully I am off it. Sometimes I crave something, eat so much of it for a few days, then I'm off it for the rest of the pregnancy. Probably for the best with this one.
6. Aversion: The ham on the eggs benedict I had Sunday at breakfast after church. Raunchy, smoky, disgusting. It's amazing what your tastebuds will pull on you all of a sudden. (The eggs and the sauce and the muffins were great!) Anyway, methinks I may be off ham in general. That would be my sister's greatest nightmare ever. She's the biggest ham-lover I have ever known hands down.
7. Craving: Pizza Hut breadsticks. Big time! This actually settles my stomach when I can't think of anything else in the world to eat for dinner. I love these! They are crispity and crunchity on the outside and soft and lovely on the inside. So soooothing. MMMMMMMMmmmmm.

8. Craving: Bagels. Sigh. I went from my 80 calorie slice of whole wheat bread a morning to my 280 calorie everything bagel. But I need it. I really do.

9. Another craving: Donuts. First, Dunkin Donut Jelly Donuts with the sugar on the outside. I drove all over looking for a Dunkin Donuts in an area I didn't really know. Found one. No jelly donuts. Got strawberry stuff inside instead. Got home. The lady lied! Surprise!!! They were mostly jelly! (I had gotten six). YAY ME! (No, I didn't eat them all in one sitting.) Oh, then there were the Entenmanns chocolate covered donuts which my husband and I both pummeled. They didn't even have a chance.

10. Craving: Exotic rainbow sherbet Publix brand. Boy has this also done wonders to settle my stomach. And it's not that bad for you either! Yay me again!

11. Craving: Salmon. This worked well when I would do the lunch special at Red Lobster. But then one day I wanted the salmon at Bonefish Grill which is a bit on the pricey side. Oh yes, and the "Bang Bang Shrimp" which are spicy breaded saucy little delicious shrimps that are amazing. Dinner for one: $25. Husband not happy. Have not repeated this craving.

12. Craving: Italian food, any. Big fan of the Italian food these days. There's something comforting about spaghetti and anything parmesan, especially Fettuccine Alfredo, which I limit to once a year seriously, because its buttery cheesy goodness is just so bad (but so good). I have fulfilled my Alfredo sauce quota already in April. What to do.

13. Vanilla yogurt. This was a huge one for me in the beginning. I would just eat big huge bowls of plain vanilla yogurt and gross my mom out. I was so obsessed with it, I'd have to stop at the store immediately if I was about to run out. That craving's over sadly. But I was proud of that one. It was a low-fat choice. Those now are so few and far between.

What were your cravings and aversions????? Happy tt!!

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