I am an anti-Ferg-ite.

I cannot stifle my feelings on this anymore. And believe me, I'm as surprised as you that I'm this passionate about this. So much so, that I feel I cannot NOT blog about this. I will also preface this with, I apologize in advance if you're a Fergie fan, and I give you full license to stop reading this lest you put a hit out on me. Right now, my husband and I are doing what we very often do on Saturday morning. Poops is playing in his play dome banging his blocks together, we've got our coffees, we're unshowered and still in pajamas. We're talking back and forth about what to eat for breakfast but no one is getting up to do anything about it, and VH1 is on with its top 40 videos of '06. VH1 usually goes on after the Today show and the local news.

Now, I will tell you that I am a huge fan of the Black-Eyed Peas. "Pump It" is my first song on my workout list on my IPod. I also listened to it during labor. I go into an all-out flail when I hear this song and it embarrasses my husband. I also like Fergie in the Black Eyed Peas. I like her voice. BUT I CANNOT STAND FERGIE ALONE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT A LONDON BRIDGE IS AND I EQUALLY CAN'T STAND FERGALICIOUS. I don't know why I feel this passionate about this. Maybe it's because I am offended that this is crap music and crap music can become popular. Or not really music, just crap. Obviously, people like these songs because they are both in the Top 40. But everytime I see the videos, I stop what I'm doing, and stare at the TV in disbelief, then become nauseous. Yes, I should put my energy toward something worthwhile, and I do, usually. But I can't help myself. I can't stand the branch-out Fergie, and I cannot sit by idly anymore. There I've said it.

Old Skeletons

I just wrote on someone else's blog that some of my best posts happen when I start with a blank page and have absolutely nothing to write about. Today is not one of those days. It doesn't help that my mind is equally as blank as the page. I can write about how excited I am for VH1's Best Year Ever that's on tonight. Or how Heroes got nominated for a Golden Globe (sweet!). Anyone who hasn't seen that show should find the re-runs on the Sci-Fi channel and watch them and don't be afraid of "Sci-Fi" channel like I would if I heard someone say 'watch the re-runs on Sci-Fi' because when I think of Sci-Fi, I usually think of over-the-top trekkies. This show is not really Sci-Fi. I say this because when I told my friend she should watch the re-runs on Sci-Fi, she got all weird when I mentioned Sci-Fi channel, and then I realized I might have too if I were her.

Isn't it great when after a million years, people just happen to waltz back into your life again? I heard my name while I was in the meat section of the grocery store the other day and turned around and there was a friend of mine from college that I hadn't seen it, gosh it has to be 11 years. That makes me feel old. She happens to live in the same apartment complex as my Mother-In-Law, about 3 blocks from my house! And I was excited comboed with a little scared when I met up with her again because she was a great and very fun friend, but boy did we get into a lot of trouble back then, so it was like seeing all my skeletons at the same time, staring at me in the meat section of Publix! And I'm so much less reckless now (I'm someone's mom!) and it makes me remember all the crazy stuff we used to do. I know you're wondering what these things, but since blog posts could be admissable in court, I'll refrain from the details. I'm kidding, nothing illegal. It was wonderful that I was also unshowered after the gym, with mom hair and no makeup and I am a little plumper and certainly not wearing those little skimpy clothes I would have in my early 20's. But I'm excited about having run into her again because since moving back to Florida and having a baby, I haven't been super-sociable and a lot of my old friends have moved away, so I'm back at square one building friendships. We'll see what happens. Happy Friday! Off to the gym hoping to pull a nice sweaty workout out of a hat.

Thursday Thirteen #9

It's almost time to ring in the new year and I'm really thinking about making some changes this time. Here are my:

13 Potential New Year's Resolutions!

1. Fold laundry within 24 hours of washing, lest it become a giant pile of clean and dirty laundry in bedroom within days.
2. Return phone calls in a timely manner. 2 weeks is not timely.
3. Continue quest for significant babyweightloss so that my sad, banished tiny-clothes wardrobe can return to its home in my closet.
4. Minimize angry-hormonal symptoms of PMS for entire year of 2007 for benefit of husband.
5. Significantly reduce spending on purses, shoes, wine, and delicious filet mignon topped with bleu cheese.
6. Combine two rooms of boxes full of crap into one neat, organized room full of crap and maintain same organized system for more than one full month.
7. Plant more flowers and shrubbery, but this time continue to water said plants and shrubbery so that they might thrive and flourish rather than wither and die from malnutrition and have to be replaced with new, live flowers and shrubbery.
8. Minimize "language", rage and speed whilst driving. Replace outward anger with happy, sing-song voice and become accommodating and patient with other drivers, while becoming good wholesome role-model driver for tiny son. Will feel free to sing in high, operatic tone, "Serenity Now!" instead of said "language" if boiling point occurs.
9. Clean inside AND outside of vehicle regularly so that sap from pine tree won't collect on paint job to resemble very bad abstract art.
10. Refrain from making fun of mullets or other hair-do infractions, unfortunate outfit choices and accidents regarding tripping, falling, and unidentified objects in teeth, hair or ears.

11. Find positives in my own faults, large or small, become one with them, and move on.

12. Refrain from over analyzing situations and "manufacturing craziness". No, she did not have "tone" and was not acting "funny" because she doesn't like you. She does like you. She was drunk.

13. Be confident in my own skin, no matter how big, wrinkly, or saggy it is or becomes.

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!

Countdown to 100!

I'm headed for my 100th post would you believe! That seems fast, although I am pretty sure it's indicative of the amount of time I spend blogging as opposed to doing house-wiferly duties like laundry, floors, and watching soaps, I mean cooking. I don't watch soaps. I end up watching Steve Harvey on TBS. So I'm doing something special for my 100th post, as opposed to this post which I'm turning into a to-do list. Finish Christmas cards, watch "fat people", I mean "The Biggest Loser" which is turning out to be one of my favorite shows. I'm completely inspired! Each week they lose about 5-7 pounds, very often much more, and every time I groan with jealousy Evan has to remind me that they are at a camp with 24-hour a day surveillance, trainers and all their meals are prepared and they have meal plans, as opposed to the real world where we have cake. I like each of the final four, except Utah for some reason. Oh and I have to fold laundry.

The Mall Experience

Was surprisingly great. Closer to end of holiday shopping. Of course there was coffee and my list. But if you can possibly take a day off and get all your shopping done in one foul swoop during a weekday at 1 o'clock, the mall is the place to be. It was leaving the mall that turned out to be the interesting part. The swirly-eyed shopper zig-zagging through the parking lot wandering aimlessly with a fist-full of packages trying desperately to locate the car? Me. Oh, and on the way home? Got stuck behind a truck carrying Port-a-potties. Yes, this is what happens to me in life. An entire highway full of cars and I am stuck behind the stinky truck. And I don't just mean stinky. I mean, likely the nastiest, most overwhelming smell I have ever had the "privilege" of being a part of. Nothing could stop it from seeping into the car. And it went just slow or fast enough for me to not be able to pass it until we got just a mile away from the house, and I could stop the car in the driveway and breathe again. I take clean air for granted.

Caffeinated and ready to go.

It's on. Until last Friday or so, the malls were still pretty much manageable during the week and even on the weekend. But now, you can see, it's on. The rush has begun and mall parking takes you either schlepping across the street or car-stalking wayward shoppers leaving the malls with swirlies in their eyes and wandering aimlessly in search of their cars, stumbling with fistfulls of packages. And you think you're close to getting a spot, when the shopper you're stalking all of a sudden zigzags through the cars and takes a right and heads down a completely different aisle where there is already another car ready to stalk for a spot. I see it all the time. But this year is different for me. I won't stalk. I will be perfectly content at whatever parking spot presents itself. And I am armed with a list, so I will not be venturing toward this crazy cluster of mad shoppers empty handed. And as of this writing, I am quite caffeinated. There are still 13 days, and I am about halfway done, and this is wonderful progress in my world. So I will breathe in deeply the holiday spirit and exhale sighs of relaxing wonderment and the gentle scent of a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks.

And then.. there was dancing.

Could it be proof that dancing is innate? That music lives inside of people of all ages, bursting to get out? A couple weeks ago, Poops started dancing to the Bonanza theme song. Evan would sing it, and Poops would bounce up and down, body, head and all. He started doing it in the exersaucer so we thought it was a fluke at first because it's real bouncy, but he does it pretty much anywhere when you sing it. This morning, I caught him dancing to a TJ Maxx commercial. La-la laaa la-la la-la-la-la TJ MAXX!

Decoupage of Christmas funnery!

I am struggling to recover some of my motivation from the weekend. Our weekend actually started last Thursday and it was packed to the brim with birthdays and holidays. Husband had two work parties, one of them was Thursday night at a giant restaurant-slash-video arcade. It was catered and open bar and free games all night and I learned that I am not good at Golden Tee or that dancing game where you step on all the arrows. Husband, who is excellent at Golden Tee, is also not good on the dance game and we looked like 30-something idiots trying to reclaim our youth. And can I just say, the next time you walk by an arcade, check out the dancing game and see who's doing it. It's teenage... boys! NOT girls. I am miffed by this.

Friday was a delicious feast of fondue for my very pregnant friend's birthday. The dinner lasted about 4 hours. Salad, cheese, meat, and of course chocolate. But having 13 people at a fondue dinner isn't without its challenges. There are only 3 pots in the middle of the table for everyone to eat out of, so not only do you have to get 13 people to agree on 3 different cheeses and chocolates, you also get to become very intimate with them in the sharing of food, sauces and probably also germs, but hey, even if you don't know everyone at the table, you sure do after fondue. I would recommend this place for a first meeting of the in-laws, because there is no way that you won't get to know them, and get to know them well after a nice fondue dinner.

Saturday, the big office Christmas party. We had a blast. The food was delicious and it was open bar all night and lots of dancing. My favorite part was the people watching. Husband works for a big engineering firm, but you wouldn't believe the mix of people at the party. From your normal, conservative, engineer-types, to she-mullets, man-mullets, and caveman beards. My biggest laugh came when I was admiring the back of a 20-something woman's cute and very short dress, but realized after she turned around that she wasn't 20-something at all, she was very likely 60-something. She tricked me with the body, the dress and the hair!! It was very entertaining to say the least. Our long night of dancing ended with a trip to the McDonald's drive-thru.

Sunday, yum. A steak brinner or linner, or dunch, whatever you want to call having a nice big fat prime rib at 1 in the afternoon. It was mumsy's birthday, it is actually today, but we celebrated it yesterday with a feast of wine and steak at her favorite restaurant where we pondered the origin of the name of horseradish, and there were theories that maybe it once covered up the taste of horse in other countries. But that's not it. In fact, it's nothing spectacular at all, sadly. Horseradish.Org, yes it is a real website, has the answers, and just in case you were wondering yourself, see below*. Anyway, steak dinner=wonderful. I needed a nap afterward.

Oh, and guess what? My dad, mom, and husband were all born in December. Last monday was husband's birthday. Mom's today. Next week the Pops, and then we have Christmas. Which means for us, that December is one, big, fat, decoupage full of fun! It was more stressful when I was working, but this year, as long as I'm out and about with Poops and the Christmas carols blaring on the car radio, I can keep it all in a lovely cheery holiday perspective.

Well today I marched off to the gym first thing in the morning to try and rectify my terrible food behavior from our four-day ridicu-feast. But I am still just totally exhausted and I have to find it in me right now to: shower, go food shopping, do a little Christmas shopping, pick up Poops' Christmas pictures, make dinner, then do Christmas cards tonight. Where will I get the energy. I will start by putting on a nice big fat pot of coffee. Happy Monday!


*From Horseradish.org:
Q. How did horseradish get its name?
A. Horseradish is believed to have originated in Central Europe, the area also linked to the most widely held theory of how horseradish was named. In German, it’s called "meerrettich" (sea radish) because it grows by the sea. Many believe the English mispronounced the German word "meer" and began calling it "mareradish." Eventually it became known as horseradish. The word "horse" (as applied in "horseradish") is believed to denote large size and coarseness. "Radish" comes from the Latin radix meaning root.

Fred the Feeding Chair and the Bottle Graveyard

This is "Fred". Husband's man-chair. Before we got married, Fred was my husband's only piece of furniture for a really long time. We named it Fred in our single days and referred it to as Husband's roommate. He even slept in it for months before he had a bed. And when we first moved in together, I thought Fred would have a short life in our household, or I guess I hoped he would, because I hate to say it, but Fred's not really what I would call a "looker". But man, is he comfortable and he has since grown on me. So Fred stays. Yes, I'm talking about Fred as if he is a person, because he has become a staple, and a symbol of all that is comfortable in our house. I have a nice rocker in the nursery, but Fred actually became my nursing chair for a while, which was convenient not so much for his comfort (even though that's a big plus), but he's so easy to clean, too, in the midst of various wet accidents. He coddled me through sleepless nights, he was there when I would schlep to the living room with Poops and watch half a movie during the 1 am feeding, and there again at 3 am, where I would watch the rest of it at the next feeding. And all the hours in between. Since I've stopped nursing, it's become our "bottle-feeding" chair. Now, Poops knows that's where the business of eating gets done and as soon as we sit down in it he looks at you and at the side table and back at you, as if to say, "Where the heck's my bottle!" Sometimes between feedings, there's still a bottle left on the side table next to Fred, and if you sit down with Poops, he gets angry that there's a bottle sitting there, and no one is giving it to him. Even if it's empty. So the bottle retires to what we call the "bottle graveyard". On the floor right next to Fred, until we remember to pick it up and take it into the kitchen. It's out of Poops' line of vision, and he forgets about it within seconds. Unfortunately, so do we. And we wind up with this:

The Bottle Graveyard

12 Days of Flubugcrud: A Christmas Musical

Been miserable with the flubugcrud or whatever the heck it is, and this year it's a real bugger. And it's gotten to everyone I know! It's almost gone, but not completely and it's almost been 2 weeks, so here's a little song for you. Because I have nothing better to do than sing songs about the flu. (To the tune of 12 days of Christmas).

On the 1st day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me...aches while putting up Christmas tree.

On the 2nd day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me...a tickle in my throat, and aches while putting up Christmas tree.

On the 3rd day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me...crazy runny nose, a tickle in my throat, and aches while putting up Christmas tree.

On the 4th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me...can't stop coughing, crazy runny nose, a tickle in my throat and aches while putting up Christmas tree.

On the 5th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me... NO EN-ER-GY! Now I can't stop coughing, crazy runny nose, tickle in my throat and aches while putting up Christmas tree!

On the 6th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me, six boxes of tissues, noooo en-er-gy! Can't stop coughing, crazy runny nose, tickle in my throat and aches while putting up Christmas tree!

On the 7th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me... lots of germs a-swarmin', six boxes of tissues, NO EN-ER-GY! Cann't stop coughing, crazy runny nose, tickle in my throat and aches while putting up Christmas tree!

On the 8th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me...8 consecutive sneezes, lots of germs-a-swarmin', six boxes of tissues.. NO EN-ER-GY! Cann't stop coughing, crazy runny nose, tickle in my throat and aches while putting up Christmas tree!

On the 9th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me... 9 relatives infected, 8 consecutive sneezes, lots of germs-a-swarmin', six boxes of tissues...NO EN-ER-GY! Cann't stop coughing, crazy runny nose, tickle in my throat and aches while putting up Christmas tree!

On the 10th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me...10 hours sleeping, 9 relatives infected, 8 consecutive sneezes, lots of germs-a-swarmin', six boxes of tissues...NO EN-ER-GY! Caaan't stop coughing, crazy runny nose, tickle in my throat and aches while putting up Christmas tree!

On the 11th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me....no appetite, 10 hours sleepin', 9 relatives infected, 8 consecutive sneezes, lots of germs-a-swarmin', six boxes of tissues...NO EN-ER-GY! CAAAN'T STOP COUGHING CRAZY RUNNY NOSE TICKLE IN MY THROAT AND ACHES WHILE PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS TREE!

On the 12th day of flubugcrud, the flubug gave to me, feeling like death warmed over: NO APPETITE, 10 HOURS SLEEPIN', 9 RELATIVES INFECTED, 8 CONSECUTIVE SNEEZES, LOTS OF GERMS-A-SWARMIN', SIX BOXES OF TISSUES, NOOOO EN-ER-GY! CAAN'T STOP COUGHING CRAZY RUNNY NOSE, TICKLE IN MY THROAT.....

AAAAAND ACHES WHILE PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS TREE!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE, AND HAPPY FLU SEASON!!! IT'S THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING!

Must. Get. Toy.

Thursday Thirteen #8

Thirteen Things About Me As a Kid (I guess you can call it the Mis-Adventures of Poops' Mom)

1. 5 years old: Snuck out of parents' house early in the morning with my cousin, in our nightgowns, went up the road to the neighbors' house who weren't home, ate their food, and played with their toys. Were met coming down long driveway, by frantic, angry mom.

2. One by one, slid down front of various cars covered in snow in driveway with sister and cousins. Wasn't a problem until choosing to slide down convertible, and the last one in our line fell through fabric, ripping a gaping hole in convertible. Blamed it all on him.

3. Discovered sitting behind couch with cousin, breaking parents' cigarettes in half.

4. Tried to paint mudpies "brown", you know, to make them more realistic, by using brown stain. Friend's angry father had to remove brown stain from tiny hands using turpentine.

5. With same friend: Mixed it up by sledding down hill and through swingset, lying flat, flying fast through swingset underneath the see-saw. Friend slid too close underneath see-saw and cut her eye open requiring stitches. Friend's parents didn't like me anymore.

6. Convinced sister mudpies were hamburgers. She believed me and ate one.

7. While playing Superman with a little neighbor boy, thought I had huge feats of strength. Became stranded hanging off the top of a 6 foot wall leading down to basement. Rescued by father with bag of Doritos.

8. Talked incessantly in class, but still got good grades, which made some teachers furious. One teacher found a note I wrote to a boy as a joke, and used it to blackmail me into silence in her class. I caved and told my parents.

9. Ate an entire bunch of bananas at neighbor-friend's house and threw up for the rest of the day. To this day, cannot stand smell of banana anything.

10. Stayed up the whole night looking out window trying to spot Santa. Swear to this day I heard sleigh-bells.

11. Loved loved loved loved loved, The Dukes of Hazzard.

12. Taped the "Weekly Top 40" radio show every week, and wrote down the names of the songs and the artists in order. In hindsight, this was very important to me and I still don't know why.

13. Put my tooth under my pillow TWO nights in a row, just to see if the Tooth Fairy would come twice. And she did! And this time she left a 5!

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!

OK, I'll Bite.

I got tagged with this Christmas Meme so I'll go ahead and post it here. Merry Christmas!!

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Hot Chocolate. I was never much of an Egg Nog fan and I'm not sure why.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? Wrapped, for sure.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? Last year was the first and only year I had a hankering for all white, but this year I had to add red. Otherwise, I've had multi forever.

4. Do you hang mistletoe? I will be this year.

5. When do you put your decorations up? Usually last minute. This year, we're up already! It's a Christmas miracle!

6. What is your favorite holiday dish? The turkey and ham combo-platter with all the fixins.

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child: Wearing my red pajamas with the feet. I love pajamas with feet!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I snuck a peek Christmas eve and saw my parents putting together my Barbie Dream House. When I opened it Christmas morning, it said "Love, Santa" and the jig was up.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? We have the past couple Christmases because we're busting to give our gifts and we can't contain ourselves. Opening one of them turns into all of them!

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? I do the lights, Husband does the ornaments and the star. Usually we watch It's a Wonderful Life while we put the tree up.

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? I Love it I Love it I Love it! (Leg kicking wildly in the air).

12. Can you ice skate? Not really. It's a little embarrassing to watch me do it.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? My Barbie Dream House!

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you? Belting out Christmas carols and spending time with my family and trying to enjoy every single second of that Christmas "something" that's in the air as soon as Thanksgiving is over.

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? The Christmas cookies I make with my mom and sister every year. Butter cookies with sprinkles. Yum! I can taste them already.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Baking cookies with my family. But I'm excited about all the new traditions we'll be making now that we have Poops to share the holidays with and that's going to be a blast!

17. What tops your tree? A blinky star.

18. Which do you prefer: giving or receiving Christmas gifts? Giving gifts. I love finding the perfect gift and I'm busting until Christmas to give it. I don't need anything for myself.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song? All I Want for Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey and Please Come Home for Christmas by the Eagles.

20. Candy Canes? For decoration usually. But I'll take the chocolate mint kind to eat!

21. Fave Christmas Movie? A Christmas Story. And yes, I catch at least a part of every single run of it when TNT does 24 hours of Christmas Story every year. Even when I was working.

Merry Christmas!!!!

Wordless Wednesday: Mini Me

One down, a million to go

OK now we're getting somewhere. I've gotten an entire mall crossed off my list as having nothing for anyone worth buying. This sounds pessimistic I realize, but really, it's progress!!! This is the earliest I've ever begun Christmas shopping. I have been known to still be shopping at 10 pm on Christmas Eve, only to go home and wrap presents until 3 in the morning, and of course, unwrap them all at 7am. I refuse to do that this year. I wish I could list off what I've gotten people because I am totally BUSTING! This is probably why I don't like to shop until last minute, come to think of it. Because I'm terrible at keeping secrets and I want to give everyone their presents!! It's killing me!!!! Anyway, I'll be heading to another mall this week in search of the perfect gifts. But I've been finding a great deal of success online this year, and have gotten two great gift ideas from FindGift.Com that I've ordered presents off of and I highly recommend it if you're looking for something. They really have some great ideas for unique gifts and the stuff I've found is really inexpensive! Good luck shopping. Anyone got any ideas for children's gifts? I got a zillion kids to buy for.

Crashed

My favorite time of the day is right before Poops goes to bed. He used to fall asleep when I held him all the time when he was a little guy, but now those times are few and far between and I relish them when it happens. He didn't quite make it to his 8 o'clock bedtime. But that was okay with me.

Hi. I'm in Delaware.

Oh the joy of Christmas! This picture cracks me up. We took it Saturday morning while picking out our Christmas tree at Lowes, so we could remember our first Christmas with Poops. It reminds me of that time in Utah when we were only dating, and he came to visit me just before Christmas and I thought it would be a great idea for us to get a real tree. In fact, if you go to my sister's blog, you'd see that we have both married "fake tree" men. Men who are from "fake tree" families. There is nothing wrong with that. We were fake tree people once too, until one year, my sister and I banded together and begged my parents for fresh pine and we haven't looked back since. For my husband though, it was a work in progress. Right now, he's in a state of acceptance. We have surpassed the stages of denial and anger. (My sister is currently working on hers). The process for us began when we were dating a couple years ago, and I lived in Salt Lake City and he still lived in Florida. We went out to get a real tree because boy didn't I think it would be fun to have my boyfriend in town just before the holidays and we can get our tree and decorate it together while watching It's a Wonderful Life. It can be tradition! Sadly for me, he wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as I was about it, and when we bought the tree at the grocery store because that's the closest place I knew that sold them, it all came to a head. He lugged the big tree out to the Jeep, threw it on the roof, rolled down the windows, and tied the tree to the roof with rope. He was huffing and puffing the whole way, so I kept my silence thinking, 'ok as soon as we get it home he'll see what a nice time we'll have and he'll look back on this as a wonderful beautiful Christmas experience'. Plus I'm compromising, he's watching football instead of the movie. This is ok. Baby steps. Remember, he's not a "real tree" person. So we go to get into the Jeep to go home, and we both try to open the doors when we realize at the same time that he's managed to tie the doors shut. With the windows open. I'm trying desperately not to go into hysterics and I study his face and wait for his reaction, which I know would be either complete anger or maybe he'll force a smile, but it's key for me to not react until I see which way he goes and I know this. Thankfully, he laughs at himself and the whole process of getting our first tree together goes much more smoothly from there. But even now, it's still a challenge. He accepts that I thoroughly need fresh pine even though I'm always tracking needles all over the house and we've already vaccuumed three times since we put the tree up, and still we have to vaccuum again. And he accepts that I am like an elderly woman when it comes to my yearning for tradition. So I may get a picture like the one above when we get the Christmas tree, but I know he's smiling inside. We joke that by the time Poops is old enough to begin understanding and taking part in our traditions, Husband will have gotten all of his "real tree" reservations out of his system and be smiling on the outside too.

Who's putting on all the hats this year?

The honor goes to Aunt Kate. One year my sister put on all the hats at my birthday party. Another year, my 90 year old grandmother did it. This year, it was my sister-in-law who donned the pointy Spongebob hats at husband's birthday dinner. It's an odd tradition. But it makes for good pictures. We're bringing party hats back.

Doesn't that look like a picture of happiness? I can't get my husband to do anything other than the Chandler Bing smile ever, but one snuck out today and I was lucky enough to catch it on film. It's like getting a shot of the Lockness Monster. Happy Birthday husband! His real birthday's tomorrow. So if anyone from work is reading this, he likes pretty much any kind of cake.

O Christmas Tree!

Poops was inducted into all things Christmas Tree this weekend.

Friday night we took him to our little town's tree lighting. He sat on the ground and felt grass for the first time. He's felt it before, but that was back when he was a nub and didn't know any different. This is the new, more aware Poops.

Then we went to pick out a Christmas tree, to where else, but Lowes, and you'd be surprised what a good batch they have to choose from. And they're pretty cheap too. They're nothing like a tree farm, I know, but when Poops knows the difference, we'll take him there.

But he's a pretty hands-on type of baby. We were going to let him be the star on the tree, but the tree kept tipping over.

Thursday Thirteen: Ooh! Lucky Number 7!!

November is Prematurity Awareness Month as you may already know, and for me, this month has been a time of healing and many thanksgivings. I've begun stashing away some of my sadder memories in return for some of the happier ones that we've been making all year long, and the ones to come this holiday season. So to bring this month of reflection to a close, and because this is why my baby came early.. I wrote about:

THIRTEEN REASONS PREECLAMPSIA STINKS!

1. Absolutely no one knows why it happens. Because of this, there is no cure.

2.I gained more than 20 pounds in the last two weeks of my pregnancy in water weight alone. I could only fit into flip flops because my feet were so puffed up, and I had cankles. I had bought a pair of heels for my shower (I know, that was silly), and my feet looked like swollen muffin tops overflowing on top of the tiny stumps that were my shoes.

3. I learned about high blood pressure, and that the bottom number should never be over 100. My blood pressure was ridiculously high. I was actually scared.

4. Did you know that when a woman goes through complications with her pregnancy, her body and baby both know it, and the baby's organs mature quicker? It's true. It happened to us. Poops' lungs were perfect and he was off a breathing tube within 6 hours. The human body is fascinating.

5. I was on bedrest at 32 weeks and my water broke and I delivered at 34 weeks.

6. To this moment I secretly envy women who had healthy pregnancies and 10 pound babies.

7. I'm scared to death to get pregnant again even though doctors are "sure" it won't happen a second time.

8. A week and a half in the NICU is a week and a half too long. Right now I'm mentally hugging all moms who have to go through it for any amount of time, even if it's just a day. Right now, there are mommies and daddies sitting in the NICU with their babies. Right now, some are getting dressed to go home. I'm praying for each one of you.

9. I guess the bright side is that I've never experienced the "get this thing out of me" discomfort of the latter part of the third trimester.

10. I secretly want to.
11. I was overwhelmed with guilt for months about why it happened to me and even more about why it happened to my little guy.

12. It happens to way more people than I ever knew. And it happens to way more people *twice* than doctors acknowledge.

13. But ha ha, preeclampsia! I won. We won. He is healthy and wonderful and lovely. And that's all that counts.

*Please feel free to share your experiences here. You can also read about our story. There are also several great websites about preeclampsia, and how and why women get it, and what it is and what it means for women and their babies. They are: the official website, http://www.preeclampsia.org and a great support website here on blogger: http://preeclampsiasurvivors.blogspot.com. And please remember, especially when people are coming to you for pledges in the spring for the huge walk, to support the March of Dimes. Happy holidays to you and your family! God bless!

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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Finger Foods

Sweet! We're on finger foods! And I really thought they'd be a shoe-in. I mean, he eats everything. My hair, my hands, he tried to eat my foot this morning, he eats all his toys, his bibs, his burp cloths, blankets, absolutely everything he can get his hands on. Except finger foods. It's the funniest thing. Everything else he picks up goes straight to his mouth, but with finger foods, he has no idea what to do with them. If I put it in his mouth, he'll gum it to death. I'm impressed by his chewing. But he won't pick them up himself. So all the broken pieces of carrots that we've tried fall into his seat and they mush all up and get caught in the cracks of the high chair. He looks at me like I'm crazy. And maybe I am. Maybe he secretly knows that feeding himself will eventually make way for wiping himself and bathing himself. Maybe he's smarter than I think. Hmm.

Leveled

Where did Sunday and Monday go? I feel like Rip Van Winkle. I went to sleep on Sunday morning after dropping my sister off at the airport and I woke up this morning when my husband left for work. OK, I did wake up a few times to eat and pee and to hear Poops in the other room playing and cooing and laughing and I longed to play too. I even showered, but only to return to pajamas and let my hair dry by itself which means a curly frizzy mess that I just stick back into a ponytail. But mostly I just slept because I felt like I got hit by a bus and the past two days are just like a faint memory. Lovely. I kicked off the holiday season with a nice, big, fat flu. Poops had a smaller version of it last week. His first cold and thankfully it wasn't that bad. Just a little congestion and a runny nose. The adult version seems much more harsh. And we've given it to my parents and sister but I think Evan may have warded it off because he hasn't gotten it yet. Hopefully he won't. I had it this same week last year too now that I think about it. I've never gotten the flu shot because I was never entirely convinced it would help. But I think I may get in line for it next year.

Sitting Up

A friend of mine said to me how funny it was that one minute babies can't do something and the next day they can. It's so true. Last week, Poops could only sit up for a second before wobbling and falling over. I'd sit him up between my legs and he'd teeter and collapse. The next day, he would sit for a few minutes longer. Now, he doesn't fall at all, he just hangs out looking at the world from this whole new point of view. And he never wants to lay down at all now, he's way too interested in everything sitting up. This is cool for me too, I'm excited about the whole new world of high chairs at restaurants, sitting up in the shopping cart, and hopefully ditching that infant carrier soon! That thing's getting heavy.

Baby Jack Jack

Poops playing Super Hero at my Godson's birthday party (pictures finally!)

Baby Candy Frenzy

HAPPY BIRD DAY! The floors need mopping.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday EVER. Of course because it gives me time to reflect about what it is I am thankful for. But mostly because of dinner! And the opportunity to have "the perfect bite". Yum. I live for this. You can probably file this under "too much information" but at dinner, I take a little tiny bit of every one of my favorite Thanksgiving Day foods, and arrange it all on my fork for the perfect bite. Every time. And I can never deviate from our traditional menu that dates back to my childhood, for fear of compromising the perfect bite. That would be horrible! Then I'd have to wait a whole nother year! My sister used to refuse to sit next to me at the table because by the end, my plate would look like a pile of mush, but all of my favorite foods would be mixed together and it would look like paradise to me. I still do it now, but I make it look a little less sloppy. It was Poops' first Thankgiving, so we pulled the high chair up to the table and he had his first taste of turkey and he gagged and spit it all out. Oh well. Maybe next year. Anyway, I just love Thanksgiving. All of it. I spend pretty much the entire month of November sifting through magazines, watching Martha Stewart and the Today Show and pouring through websites looking for decorating and drink and food ideas. My mom came over a couple days early to help me (kind of like last year). We made place cards out of tiny pilgrim candles that we put in the tiniest terra cotta pot you'd ever seen and I wrote everyone's names on their little pot. Last year, I cut slits in tiny pumpkins and put name cards in them. For centerpieces this year, we carved out pumpkins and used them as vases for flowers. We shopped. For a couple days. And even then, Evan still had to make five trips out for stuff we forgot including cream cheese for the pumpkin cheesecake I was making. What a guy. My sister came down and at dinner, we were in hysterics over jokes that we couldn't explain to other people because it wouldn't be funny. She's the best. My dad flew in after a week of hunting up north, just in time for dinner. We had two small turkeys, one we baked, and the other that Evan fried in the driveway. I was scared for his life until my uncle showed up, who I knew had previous experience frying turkeys and I was relieved. It was an exhausting day of cooking and today, I am still trying to clean. There is a pile of china in the sink waiting for me but that's okay. Probably the funniest part of the day was Evan dropping his coke all over the floors I had just washed and then our shoes sticking to it and tracking it all over. But that was just the beginning of the series of floor events. Evan flooded the newly post-coke-washed floor with the water from the dirty mop bucket when he knocked it over. Then at some point, my mom, sister, and aunt, all kicked over the cat's water dish. I have decided it's time to move it. The floors were jinxed yesterday. Anyway, I'm thankful that the family was together and it was lovely. But we are seriously missing my sister's husband, though, and we can't wait for him to get back and start taking part in our family holiday madness. We miss you, Old Man! The holiday season has officially begun, and I know this because the smooth, easy favorites radio station has started playing only Christmas carols and I'll keep that radio station on until December 26th. Yay Christmas!

The Family Suitcase

I've learned a lot of things this weekend. The most useful is that the "family suitcase" does not work. At all. We were headed to Atlanta for my Godson's birthday party and I thought it was a great idea to pack one huge suitcase full of mine, Evan's and the baby's stuff instead of packing three bags. Plus I thought it would save space in the car. I couldn't have been more wrong. By the end of the first night, we didn't know whose clothes were whose or where anything was at all, so it looked like our suitcase threw up on the floor. Then, we start yelling at each other because no one can find anything and we feel like we're in complete disarray for the whole weekend. And of course, I pack it all up the day we leave and hope for the best that I'm not leaving anything behind. And of course, I do. Anyway, the birthday party was the cutest thing ever. It was a superhero party at an interactive kids museum, that looked like a village inside with all sorts of shops and everything is hands on. A grocery store with stocked shelves (boxes only and plastic fruit, and I look over and see my Godson packing up all his own "groceries". So cute.) A hair salon complete with wigs, a dentist office with chair and tools, doctor's office, even Tom the Turkey (an older guy wearing a turkey outfit and tights and when he didn't see any kids looking, would sit and drink his coffee and read the paper.) All the little kids had capes and superhero masks, and Poops wore an eye mask and looked like Jack Jack from the Incredibles. I would have pictures posted, but guess what I forgot in Atlanta? The cable to hook up the camera.

Thursday Thirteen #6

Since I'll be out of town Friday, I'll do a combo platter early-weigh-in-slash-Thursday 13. So, HURRAH!! I'm down 2 more pounds, which brings me to a grand total of 10. Sweet! Almost to a new decade of numbers! Anyway, ever wonder what people are thinking about while they're on the elliptical? I wonder if they're as weird as me. My mind tends to completely wander. So I figured I'd do:

Thirteen Things I Think About While Working Out At the Gym

1. Ooh. Yikes. Spandex and a muscle tee. Not a good look. And it's always on that older guy trying to look buff and cool. Why is that?

2. My underwear is inching up. No, underwear, no! Stay where you are! Stubborn underwear! Ah, there. (Sure hope no one saw that.)

3. Something's wafting and it's not good. Shoot. Is it me? I put on deodorant. Didn't I? (inner panic setting in.)

4. I have to remember to call my mom back.

5. I wonder if I have time to get my eyebrows waxed after this.

6. I remember being 18 and looking like that. And I didn't even enjoy it! I thought I was fat! Boy to know then what I know now. Curse you, younger self!

7. Ugh. Five more minutes. Five. More. Long. Minutes. OK, that's only like one more song. Maybe a song and a half. OK I'll go till the end of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. It's "B". Jumbo Jet. I can't believe he didn't get that! Must. Keep. Going. Legs burning. Hey! You on the elliptical! Focus! Get it together! No one's going to work out for you! Dig Deep. Don't be a loser. Wimp! Work it. Work it! Work itttt!

8. I wish Poops wasn't born early. I always see this March of Dimes commercial and get choked up on the elliptical. Must look away. No crying during the workout! Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day! Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day!

9. Someone left the cake out... in the rain! I don't think that I can take it! Cause it took so long to bake it! And I'll never have that recipe againnnnnnnn! Oh nooooooooooo! This song really rocks out! After the slow part.

10. Mamamia, I wish my thighs didn't rub together. Mine could be siamese twins. Look at hers. They look like they've never even met. How can that be?

11. Did I pay my student loan this month?

12. Ooh, next week I can do 13 of my favorite words. Or I can do 13 books that should never have been movies. Or 13 reasons I love the holidays. Or 13 things that will be on my Thanksgiving table. Yipes! I'm addicted to Thursday 13! All I do is think in terms of lists!!!

13. This feels good. Got a good sweat going here. I should definitely do this more often. I'll come back tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after. I'm motivated, now, baby. No one can stop me! I'm even getting up early on Thanksgiving to workout. (Picturing husband laughing in my head). Well maybe the day after. After shopping of course.

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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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WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: Dress Rehearsal

Places, everyone!

Poops' First Selfless Act

Poops told me that he wanted to send his trick-or-treating candy to his uncle in Iraq. Only seven months old, but already capable of random acts of kindness, it's amazing! Who needs him to start crawling or sitting up when you got that! So I told him, boy that's a wonderful idea! And it's getting colder over there, so the chocolate won't even melt! He'd rather eat the container than the candy that's in it anyway, so he won't be missing much. Anyway, if you're reading this, Old Man, some candy's comin your way! I think there's even a little thing of Play Doh in there for you and the guys. We miss you!

My Heroes

When my mom loves a TV show, she takes ownership of it and says things like "I have to watch 'my house' tonight". Meaning, of course, the show House. Recently, she fell in love with the show "The Unit", so she says very matter-of-factly "Oh, I have to watch my Unit tonight" . Which leaves me and Evan to snicker on the side like Beavis and Butthead, "Ha Ha, she said unit".

Anyway, that's a sidenote, and has nothing to do with my new favorite show in the whole world "Heroes"!!!!!! Which is now "My Heroes" to me. Can I just say how much I LOVE that show with a capital LOVE? Earlier on, I hadn't really decided what I thought of it, I knew it had potential but as you may remember, I had quite an extensive lineup already and I wasn't sure if it was worth the add-on. Since then, quite a few shows have dropped off my radar and I've been able to seal off a spot for Heroes, and rightfully so because we had been taping it and I accidentally had the TV on during the 3rd episode when I decided right there it was a keeper. So I caught up. And now it's starting to move and really get good and I'm so gleefully excited that we're soon going to find out if the cheerleader's dad is actually a bad guy or not, and what is the deal with the single mom, I guess she's an evil character after all? And what about the guy who makes things combust? This show is so cool! Anyone watching?? SAVE THE CHEERLEADER SAVE THE WORLD!
NBC has the episodes online if you want to check it out.. Here's last weeks: (Hiro also has a blog on nbc.com, it's pretty cool)
http://www.nbc.com/Video/rewind/full_episodes/?show=heroes

Don't Mind Me

Don't mind me, I'll be fooling around with the templates over the next few days because I'm so darned bored with the one I have now. I'll still be posting, so please don't mind the dust while the construction crews are working, so to speak.

King Midas

It's been quite a week. I feel like King Midas. Except everything I touch turns into the opposite of gold. Isn't that life though? I've found that when you have a lot of good non-eventful weeks back-to-back, stuff tends to happen in a big combo-platter so you can have a few more good non-eventful weeks before stuff happens again. Like today. Got my keys now, as you know, after I threw them out earlier this week. Went out to the car this morning. Won't start. Isn't that just great. Dead car in the driveway. I'm sure it's probably battery related and probably no big deal. Just convenient, you know. Then, I'm opening up low-fat cheese slices to put on our veggie burgers and I notice all these little specks of something. So I pick one out. Hmm. Clear. Hard. Unusually sharp. Glass? Yep, tiny, tiny shards of glass sprinkled throughout all of the slices. At least, I'm pretty sure it's glass. I melted one slice just to see if maybe it's some weird hard fat or something in the cheese, but the specks survive the heat and don't melt and they're still sharp. Anyway, I've already eaten two slices so who knows what that means. I'm hoping they're too small to do any damage. I called the company. They're sending me coupons. Yippee. Even though I told them I won't be buying that particular brand again. Hopefully we will have no incidents related to my find, but it's funny how now that I think I may have consumed glass particles, I have all these imaginary pains because when something gets in my head that I can't seem to forget about, I have all these crazy thoughts of what could be happening. Hopefully, me and my insides will survive the weekend (haha), and I'll have a car to drive keys and all. I'll just hit "refresh" and start over on Monday. Till then I'll just sit here and make cinnamon buns for our new neighbors. The good news is, it's date night. So we'll be taking our minds off any of our little annoyances with a good bottle of wine. Sweet.

Friday Weigh-In

One lonely solitary pound at a time. Sigh. I've lost one pound since I last weighed in, which was 2 weeks ago. There was no change last week, so I made some changes to my workout and my diet and that's when the one pound came off. We'll see what happens over the next week. At this rate, I'll make my goal by next summer! Wah. But I mustn't get discouraged. At least I'm not gaining anything, right?

Thursday 13 #5

THIRTEEN REASONS I'M GLAD MY HUSBAND'S BACK FROM CHINA

1. He brought me back some cool stuff like a tea set and some awesome looking chopsticks. The ones I have are from the dollar store (but they were cute! they were a find!) . I know. I'm cheap.


2. We got to snuggle and watch The Biggest Loser and Dancing with the Stars together when he got home. Tonight we get to snuggle and watch The O.C. and The Office and Earl. I missed our tv watching rituals.


3. The bed is so much bigger without him.


4. I hate being the "man of the house." He's so much better at beating up (potential) bad guys than I am. (Though I can pack quite a punch!)


5. I miss his kisses and holding hands and did I mention snuggling?


6. He's so much better at taking out the trash and cleaning the litter box than I am. I threw out my keys. See? I suck at taking out the trash.


7. Especially on days where Poops is screaming all day and I can't figure out why...I can get some "time off" to do girly things and unwind when he gets home from work. Like pedicures. My feet are also happy he's back. Trust me on that one. Or just shutting myself away in a room. Alone. Or just getting out of the house. Alone. It's the little things.


8. The house is also so much bigger without him. Now it's complete again.


9. He can go to the Welcome Committee meetings in our Homeowners Association with me. He signed us up. Then went away and I had to go by myself! Thanks!


10. Date night's back! We go out once every week just the two of us, so we can reconnect. It has really helped, especially right after Poops was born. But while he was in China, we had "date night" over the internet by doing what we used to do when we were in a long distance relationship. No! Not that, potty minds! We played backgammon. For like 2 hours. It's the funnest. I know that's not a word but I like it.


11. I get to share the art of poopy diapers with someone. Although the Grandmas shared some of it with me when he was gone. Thanks Grandmas!


12. I can get in touch with him. When he was in China, I had to pretty much wait for him to call because he was out of pocket a lot. This is so much better.


13. $400 later, he wasn't mad at me for throwing out the keys! (I had to tow the car to the dealership and get the keys re-digitized). He even took some of the blame for not having a spare to the car. What a guy! Happy TT everyone!!!

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

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Wordless Wednesday: My Favorite Tiny Dance Partner

Super.

I think I threw out my keys. Isn't that magical? And I didn't even know it until I was all ready to go, bag all packed, baby in the infant carrier. Water bottle. Snack for later. No keys. They're not in their usual spot. Huh. Two hours and a screaming baby later, still. No keys. OK, backtrack. I came in last night with groceries, the diaper bag and the baby. I dropped it all near the counter (except the baby who I gently placed on the floor, removed from said carrier and placed neatly in swing so I could consume greek salad I bought for dinner because I was ravished.) I threw out the leftover salad, along with the bag it came in, put away the groceries, played with the baby. Then I put the baby to bed, went on a garbage frenzy because it was garbage day in the morning. Kitchen trash. Bathroom trash. Office trash. Kitty litter. Everything garbage went out the door and to the curb. And I think my keys went with it. I can't think of anywhere else they'd be. I scoured every single crevice and surface and bag. Twice. Three times. Fed the baby, did it again. I am still hoping that they'll magically appear somewhere. Frantic. Sweating. I take a break. Call the dealership, which went like this.

Me: Hi! I was wondering. If one happened to lose the only existing key to one's car, how would one go about replacing it? Hypothetically.

Service guy (obnoxious with deep voice): Tow it here and we'll electronically configure the lock (blah blah), but you have to bring proof that it's yours (blah blah words and more words).

Me: Oh. And how much would that cost? Hypothetically.

Service guy: Anywhere from $100 to $300 dollars depending on the lock.

Me: Crap.

Straps

For at least the first year of a baby's life, his world consists of straps. Straps on the swing, on the bouncy seat, on the high chair, on the infant carrier, on the stroller. By far, the grossest of these straps, I've come to find, are the ones on the thingys that you strap the infant carrier into in a restaurant. It could be one of those new handy high chairs that the top flips open to accommodate the seat, or the nifty sling. Cracker Barrel has a cool board that fits across a chair. But no matter where you are, the strap always looks like it's covered in a green filmy pond scum. And I guess the reason why my attention has recently turned toward straps is because Poops loves to eat them. They used to go ignored. But now, he finds them and lunges toward them ferociously and that's mostly okay if it's our own straps, because I keep them pretty clean. And besides, it's his own pond scum, not the pond scum of all the babies in the world. So I've come to notice straps after a series of straps scares in our life over the span of just a day. The other day, we sat down at a restaurant and put his infant carrier in one of those fun high chairs where the chair flips back and you put the strap across the front of the infant carrier real tight. I turned for literally just a second because that's all it takes and there it is, the pond scum strap is in his mouth and I'm gagging as I'm freaking out trying to get it away from him. EW. Then the next day, we're at another restaurant and he's just about gets his mouth on the strap from the sling that his infant carrier is in. But just before he does, I swoop in like the flying guy from Heroes, or the one who suspends time, and grab it first. Victory. Then, just a mere two hours later, I hear this wet gagging sound, and there he is with the strap from the stroller jammed into his mouth. I don't get it with the straps. I guess it's probably because he's in the phase of putting everything in his mouth, which I've found actually is a phase that lasts through adulthood, because a couple months ago, my husband picked up this little crumb or piece of lint and asked me what it was, and before we both knew it, he put it in his mouth. Gross.

Mom Jeans

I tried on a pair of "Mom Jeans" the other day. By accident. If you've read some of my prior posts, you'll know I'm not the skinny, young chap I used to be before Poops came along and I'm working feverishly to change that. So every once in a while, even if the scale has moved only one tick, I grab a billion pairs of Levis and try them on, just to see if maybe I've dropped a size even though it didn't really show up on the scale. You know, maybe I've lost inches. By the way, I love Levis because they fit me really well as a short person. So that's what I did the other day. I picked out 5 or 6 pairs of jeans in "Boot Cut" "Short", all in size huge, but not in size huger, because remember I'm convinced I've dropped down to just a size huge. So there I am, in the fitting room, with all these jeans, trying one at a time. It's always so darn hot in there. So now I'm sweating too. And I notice in one particular pair, they're really, really high above my waist. And I feel funny and I'm looking in the mirror with my head sideways, thinking, "Why are these so high???" They were wayyyyy under my shirt, it was like pregnancy-jeans but no stretchy material, just all jean. Then I look at the tag, which says "sits at waist" but really what they mean is "sits right below your boobs". And I realize in horror, I'm wearing "Mom Jeans." And there was something about that moment, that made my worlds collide, like I was somehow destined to try those jeans on because of the phase of life I now am in. Like the world of "Mom Jeans" was somehow reaching out to me, trying to lure me into their world and that next I was going to get the "new mom" haircut that you don't have to blowdry and stop caring about wearing cute shoes. Was this where I was headed? Was the world of housecoats next for me? I shuddered and took them off immediately in violent protest. Then I looked at the other jeans that I grabbed and breathed a sigh of relief when I read "sits below waist" on them. Which, let's face it, really isn't below the waist, it really just means, "sits where you would want it to if you're single or married without kids". Which is the fit I prefer for now. Even with a kid.

Tiny guy in a big ol' swing

The swing looked so much smaller before I put him in it and it swallowed him whole.

Bathmat Awareness

So my parents, husband and I were dropping my sister off at the airport a couple of weeks ago after a short visit. We had our normal rounds of hugs and kisses, then the four of us watched as she turned, waved bye, went into the tram, and the doors closed and she went off into the security unknown. Aidan was howling so we sat down in a group of chairs and fed him. As we got up to head toward the garage my dad remembered he had something for me, a bathmat, and I should drive to where they parked and get it from him. OK. A bathmat?

About a week before that, my dad was on a business trip when he slipped and fell in the shower. Not funny. Ever since then, he's had a headache and something hasn't been quite right with his back. He's gone to the doctors, gotten a CT scan, and nothing seems broken. But he's still in pain. So we're still kind of waiting to find out what's wrong. The funny thing is, the unusual "cause" that came out of it. Bathmats. I pulled around that day, and sure enough, a clear/gray bathmat from Bed, Bath and Beyond with lots of little round bubbles that look like a version of bubble wrap that won't pop. It's actually pretty comfortable. To my surprise, and I'm not a bathmat kind of girl, (mine's actually still in the bag they gave it to me in, sorry!) they're cushiony and puffy and you're not going anywhere while you're standing on that thing, I can tell you that much right now. The other day, we spent the night at my parents' house and I pulled back the shower curtain in the guest bathroom. Sure enough, same bathmat. And I just found out they didn't send my sister a bathmat. But they did send her a gift card to Bed Bath and Beyond, for what else? A bathmat. Just in case. Makes me laugh.

Finally burying the hatchet.

November is Prematurity Awareness Month. So I'm going to finally get this off my chest and I hope that I will be able to move on from here. For most parents, the birth of their child is one of the happiest in their lives. Not for me. My child is a blessing and a miracle and I never thought that I could be so in love with such a tiny little being. But when I think about his birth, I cry. I had a very hard time with it and I still do now, and I hope that now I can accept it for what it was and move on.

Aidan was born at 34 weeks, after my water broke suddenly one night. He was 4 pounds, 11 ounces. I didn't get to hold him after he was born and peer down at those little wondrous eyes and bond with him. Evan didn't get to cut the cord. We didn't have that loving, crying, hugging, wonderful, "Baby Story"-type beautiful new family moment after Aidan was born. I am bitter when I think about that. I can't help it. Aidan didn't sleep in the little baby bed in our hospital room and we didn't have a grandious happy homecoming. Instead, I remember a tiny, limp, purple body being whisked away to the corner of the room where a team of neo-natologists were standing by to help him take his first breaths, and I remember a subtle, but horrified look on my husband's face and I remember being so scared that my insides felt like they were ripping out of me and every time I think of it I cry. Still. That's why I want to set it free into the cosmic cyber void and let it go forever, and move on.

We were in the labor room for about 6 hours after Aidan was wheeled away and we were left to wonder what was happening. American Idol came on. Bucky was voted off. I slept through it. I was finally able to see Aidan for the "real" first time when the nurses wheeled me on the stretcher through the NICU when they were moving me to my new room. I didn't get to hold him yet. He was hooked up to all sorts of wires, and he was small. Very small. He was breathing on his own. His tiny hand grabbed my finger. I cried. They wheeled me away. The next day I finally got to hold him, wires and all. I cried. And for almost two weeks following, I needed permission to see my tiny son. Permission to feed him, permission to change him, permission to hold him. Many times permission was denied because the NICU was too busy. And I would wait. And then the one second that I would leave to go get a cup of coffee or pee, I would miss that small window to see him and I would have to wait some more and it was gut-wrenching. I cried some more. After I was discharged, I couldn't bear to leave the hospital and go home without our baby. So we paid each night for a hospitality room, which was a hospital room that wasn't being used that we could stay in, hoping every day it would be our day to go home. Each hour was the longest. I would pump every couple hours, even through the night, and afterward I would bring the milk to the NICU and sit with Aidan in hopes that I could feed him. I remember feverishly pumping, hoping my milk would come in sooner because I knew that it was the best thing for him and it would help him to get better sooner. Besides visiting him and staying at the hospital, that was the one way I could help him and I was obsessed. I didn't mind waking up in the middle of the night and schlepping down to the NICU in my pajamas. The nurses would tell Evan and I to go home or get some sleep. I didn't listen. I would open up one of the arm-holes to the incubator, put my face near it and whisper, "Hi baby boy, momma's here now, momma loves you" and I would rub his little arm and his body and I swear he would hear me and understand that he was okay and that it would all be okay. He would stop crying when he heard my voice. Sometimes the nurses would allow me to feed him, but not hold him that long because he would have to return to the incubator so he could sit under the lamps that were helping his jaundice. Each time that our time was up I felt like he was being taken away from me. The nurse would take him and he would cry. I could pick his cry out of a whole room full of babies. With my heart heavy and full of guilt, I would return to my room and wait, maybe sleep, until the alarm woke me up at the next 3 hour mark. Evan stayed too, and sometimes we would trade off visits in the middle of the night, but the long hours and no sleep would weigh on him. And even though I was exhausted, I knew I could only keep going by focusing on the task at hand.

I was sad because my little boy had to spend his first days being poked and prodded and examined and naked and alone in a bright, loud, alarm-filled unit with all these strangers and all these needles and all these wires. No mommy. I knew they were taking care of him, but still. I wanted to. That was my job. I was sad because what did I do wrong? I was on bed-rest because of my preeclampsia since 32 weeks, but did I do too much anyway? Why was he born so early? Should I not have been around the paint in the nursery? Did I weigh too much during my pregnancy? Was I too stupidly stressed out about the nursery and our house getting done? Why did this happen? How could I have prevented it? Was this my fault?

I would watch new mothers come into the NICU to see their babies. Some of them were even tinier than Aidan and had been there much longer. Others were full-term and there for observation, and they would get to go home soon after they arrived. I watched the moms come and go and I wished it were me. Us. And when it was my turn, I knew other mothers wished it were them. I hurt for them like I hurt for me and I wish they knew. And we were actually lucky, because it could have been months like other babies and it wasn't, but that doesn't comfort me for some reason and the memories still live heavy in my heart. I am scared for my next pregnancy, whenever that may be and though my doctors believe there's little chance I'll have preeclampsia in the next pregnancy, I am not so confident. I will place my faith in God's hands.

When we got home, it was just the three of us and our house swallowed us up. No one was there, but that was ok. We needed the time to let it sink in, to let us be home, to let us be us. No advice, no instructions, no permission. Just us. It was quiet and it was natural and it was like not a day had passed that we had not been in our home as a family. It was pure heaven.

I have a disconnect in my mind between Aidan then and Aidan now. I can't even picture him as the same baby. That fragile skinny little body with wrinkly skin that was almost transparent has long since caught up in life and he's meeting all the milestones that he's supposed to at his age and we're lucky for that. He's chubby and smiley and the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life and when I look at him I melt all over the floor. I could stare at him all day. And since this is also the month of Thanksgiving, I thank you God, for making my precious little guy healthy and happy and for helping us complete our family. I thank you, family, for standing by my side, especially you, Evan, who was there every difficult step of the way, and Mom, who picked me up when I needed it and even spent the night with me in the hospital when I was inconsolable. And I thank you, friends, for visiting and calling and for sending us so many warm thoughts and beautiful flowers. Goodnight, dear void. May God watch over all the tiny little early babies and their mommies and daddies, and may they soon be able to sleep in their own beds, in their own homes, with unlimited hugs and kisses. No permission needed.

Thursday Thirteen #4

Last week I did 13 things I couldn't live without.. so to make it fair and balanced I figured I'd do:
13 things I'd REALLY LOVE to live WITHOUT.

1. Those gross Lamisil commercials. I've become a letter writer in my old age and I've actually written a strongly worded letter to the makers of Lamisil because of those gross little fungus cartoon men digging underneath a dilapidated nail. They always seem to come on during breakfast. Why, Lamisil, Why???? I gag at the very thought. Of course, they never got back to me, but I can sit here and think that I've stood up for myself and other grossed-out viewers in some small way.
2. Campaign commercials. Sigh. I'm so sick of these things. They have no purpose and there's no way one can possibly find the "truth" in any of them. Thankfully, less than one more week of them. Till next year, anyway.
3. B.O. I guess it would be nice of me to think of this as "natural". Some people even think it's "beautiful". But I can't lie. I don't. I go through great pains to ward off B.O. I use deodorant, perfume, lotions, bath salts, body wash, etc etc. and I wish everyone did.
4. Someone's dog pooping in our yard. Our neighborhood has a lot of dogs, so I can't pinpoint the culprit. But it's happened three times now, and I'm on the lookout!
5. Confrontation. Oy Veh do I stink at this. If I know in advance that I may have a confrontation, I get all stressed out and I get a headache and I get nauseous. And if the confrontation is a surprise, I spend the rest of the day thinking about what I should have said. Confrontation makes me so uncomfortable and my whole day is ruined after one.
6. Presents. Believe it or not, (and husband, this isn't one of those things that I am saying that I don't really mean, I swear!) I don't need any presents. I've got my music (I-Pod), my family, my health, and as Jack said during the hoity toity dinner in Titanic "the air in my lungs." My family and I keep talking about doing something fun and skipping presents altogether for Christmas, and I really think we should follow through on that one year. That would rock. Memories are the best presents.
7. My cell phone. I wish it were acceptable to use only in emergencies. I don't answer the phone when I'm with spending time with other people or when I'm doing something, and it really pisses people off. (Sorry!) But I try to spend as little time on it as possible, even though I don't do as good a job of that as I'd like. But I remember the days when it was actually considered rude to talk on the phone while other people were around and my mom would yell at me, "Get off the phone you have company!" And I remember when you couldn't be reached, except through the answering machine and you could return phone calls when you got a chance. I miss that.
8. Spiders. My all-time biggest nemesis and would you believe we moved into a house that once had what one might call an infestation of them!? We've had the bug man come out and we have since taken our house back from these eight-legged intruders. But I get the heebie jeebies just thinking about them.
9. Scary movies. I stress out a lot in my life just on my own, so purposely inviting stress into my life is something I don't like to do, i.e. watching scary movies. Some people live for them. Like my cousin. I watched Scream and couldn't shower with my eyes closed for a week.
10. Lack of motivation. Wouldn't it be so great if motivation came in big jars that you could buy an endless supply of? I guess some people could theoretically call that "coffee."
11. Wallpaper. Our house was covered in it when we bought it. The doors, the light sockets, the walls, everything. I truly believe that if we ever wanted to get our children back one day when they inherit our home, we will cover it in wallpaper. (MWAHAHAHAHA) (evil laugh.)
12. Unhappy people or negativity. I love having a good time. I love laughing so hard my stomach hurts and I almost pee. My husband reduces me to laughing fits and that's one reason I love him so much. There are just too many things that are "Debbie Downers" in life to be around miserable people too, so I love to surround myself with people who can find "the funny" in life, and take it all in with a smile.
13. Hangovers. They can ruin a perfectly good buzz.

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Switching Gears

OK, I can hardly stand it. I'm shaking in my elastic-waisted pants. Now that Halloween's over, that means (I'm cheering inside) THANKSGIVING! My favorite holiday EVER! I love the classic Turkey Day line-up and I can't deviate from it or I'll die. One year when I lived in New York City, a bunch of us who didn't go home for Thanksgiving got together and made our own, and we bickered like little kids about what would make it into the menu because we were all stuck on our own traditions. Everyone ended up bringing pie. So we had tons of pie and wine. And a little turkey. Anyway, the traditional line-up in our family is turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, cauliflower with white sauce that we call "gookagollie", mashed potatoes, yams and I have to have a bit of everything on the fork for the perfect bite every time. And it's not the actual items, but the way they're cooked every year that I love. And then there's the pumpkin pie. But one of my favorite things, besides the food of course, is the fact that this year, we have a lot to be thankful for. Like the one more place setting that we'll have at the table this year, for a tiny little guy who'll have ground up turkey and yams and smear it all over his face in his high chair, as part of his first Thanksgiving ever. I'm very excited. Can you tell?