Lots of Wordless Wednesday!

The Annual Visit

All right friends, the following is a screen shot from my visit to the OB/GYN last week. Their forms are all on-line. After what seemed like more questions than were ever on the old paper forms, I get to this screen.

Please see lines one and two.

Maybe it is apparent to you but, after number one, number two kinda threw me. Do they mean was I an accident? Was I in an accident? Did I cause an accident? After asking if I was adopted I rather sort of think, well, hell, I dunno. 

If you know how to answer this, please let me know.

Happy Monday!

Happy New Year!

My husband just unexpectedly became a guest blogger and provided the content for the first blog of 2014.

I just received the following email from him. I think this may give me high hopes of the year to come!

"MRA and ASA had their squabbles this AM as usual. Being that I’m still recovering from the sleep deprivation from the past week, I tell both of them to go to their rooms. They both do while I’m finishing getting ready. When I go up to get them, I open MRA’s door 1st, and not only is he playing quietly, but he’s also both gotten himself dressed and cleaned-up his room (which he quickly told me about). It was one of the more proud moments that I’ve had of him."

Wishing you all much hope in 2014!

You know its been a while when...

my brother sends me an email that says I am slacking on my blog.

I was a little surprised myself to see that it has been two weeks without so much as a Wordless Wednesday. As for excuses, I was out of town the first week and last week was busy entertaining diease and pestulance in my humble abode.

I think everyone is better now but geesh it was a rough 10 days. Trust me when I say there are no pictures and that is a good thing. Although, I would belying if I didn't admit that I ought to take a few as no one would believe me otherwise.

So here are few photos from the last two weeks...

 

And a little video - sorry its sideways!

Just when you think you are in the clear...

I am busy. SO BUSY.

This weekend is my sister's baby shower. In DC. I am co-hosting. And I am taking Chubalicious. Mostly, he is accompanying me so Daddy only has to deal with the Notorious MRA. Actually, that is the ONLY reason I am bringing him. Well... that and he is still free to fly.

So with work and public hearings, and trying to save buildings, and plan baby showers, and pack, and blah blah, I don't have a lot of time to dwell.

This not dwelling thing is kinda a good thing.

For example, last night, for no apparent reason, the Notorious MRA pooped in the shower. Yep, right there on the shower floor.

Jonathan and I were mortified. I asked him why he did it. He didn't know. I asked him, "Where are you supposed to poop?" He responded,  "The potty." I asked him if the shower was the potty andhe said no and pointed to the potty so clearly he understands that the shower is NOT the potty. He has been pooping on the potty for months so, what the wuck?

I told him I wasn't reading him a bedtime story because I needed to spend that time cleaning up the poopy shower (In reality, Jonathan cleaned it up - God bless him.). Then I just felt guilty for using reading as a  repercussion.

That's actually what I went to sleep thinking about - how to balance repercussions and punishment. And, what exactly is the appropriate response to pooping in the shower.

And you know what, even though I was all kinds of disgusted. I am so busy that I forgot that he shat in my shower. Until just now. And, I am disgusted all over again.

Blech!

Its definitely a hate thing.

I bought a fancy new scale. Its digital. Its uber accurate.

 It measures body fat and water composition in addition to weight.

I was excited for it to come.

I could not wait.

It came. I weighed. I hate it.

The ous (us) words

I have a problem. I can't keep my hands off my baby. I want to gnaw on him all the time and the only words I can use to describe him end in ous:
Delicious
Fabulous
Scrumptious
Luscious
Curious
Gorgeous
and
CHUB-A-LICIOUS!

Also, I was kinda wanting a change so I cut off a lot of my hair, added bangs, and went blonder than I think I ever have been. I think I like it but sometimes I think its a little too soccer mom-ish. I have to say though that my BFFs have said positive things. But my husband said "It isn't my favorite." I appreciate his honesty but its left me questioning my decision.

The bangs were cut straight across and I prefer them separated a little so the bangs on the left have to be flattened.

Thoughts?

Hellllloooo Lover!

Damn you Nine West

When I opened my email the other morning, I was confronted with wonderful, colorful glorious photos of spring shoes!

Now, I love shoes. I have been a shoe-a-holic for some time but in the months after child birth my desire for shoes has increased ten-fold.

You see, the thing with the shoes is they ALWAYS fit, they always make my outfit look pulled together, they NEVER give me a muffin top, and I don't need a spanx for them.

So while I shlepp away, still in maternity pants, feeling doughy, out of shape, and generally disappointed with me appearance. I can put on a fabulous pair of shoes and make myself feel a little better.

And, while I may refuse to buy non-maternity clothes in a bigger size in the hopes that my old wardrobe will once again fit, I can't help myself with the shoes.

Slipper---less in Sarasota

You may remember my rant about the dishwasher during which I mentioned that I frequently walk around with one slipper because Cooper takes and then taunts me with the other one.

Well, it seems that MRA has taken notice and begun to copy Cooper thus leaving me slipper-less. And, yes, I mean copying Cooper exactly. I have a photo depicting this. Cooper sitting with one slipper hanging out of his mouth and MRA sitting next to him with the other slipper, you guessed, hanging out of his mouth. But, the camera has disappeared (insert loud sigh here).

The camera, also held this Wordless Wednesday's photo. I am sure it will turn up but probably not in any timely fashion and as soon as it does, something else I need will disappear.

The good news is I did find the spare keys under the sofa cushions this morning. I found them while looking for my slippers.

Sooooo, we are at THAT point in our relationship

Saturday night, date night.

Trusted friend and daughter come over to render babysitting services.

Hubby and I head out for a quick bite to eat and a movie.

Movie of choice - "Friends With Benefits". Funny movie, definitely all adult comedy. Its an adult kinda night.

Pre-movie conversation -

Me: " Did you see the package that just came from Amazon?"
Him: "No, what was it?"
Me: "New jar of butt paste. There is new packaging."
Him: "Whats it look like?"
Me: "Kinda the same tub as before but it has a new flip top. You don't have to unscrew it on and off anymore. Its awesome. Why didn't they think of that sooner?"
Him: "That is a nice feature."
Me: "Oh my God, I can't believe I just got excited over butt paste packaging."

Not only was there excitement but enough to talk about during what was surely our last date night for the foreseeable future.

Yeah, we really know how to bring sexy back!

The Working Mother Rant

If you are looking for cute pictures and video, come back tomorrow. Today, I am mad.

I have actually been mad for a few days but only now, am I not-mad-enough to blog about it. You see, lately, I have been running into a couple that I know a lot more frequently. Whenever I do, she comments on me seeming so tired and stressed - which I am.

Its in a judgey way that she says these things. Her job probably equates to less than part-time hours on a weekly basis.

But, I am busier at work than I ever have been, I am 7.5 months pregnant in June in Florida, I am trying to prepare for a new baby, and I am running after a toddler. Being tired and stressed out is not that unusual for the circumstances.

I am not unhappy.

The male half of the couple, keeps asking me if I plan to work after the new baby arrives. I am not sure how many times I need to say yes but he KEEPS ASKING. And every time I say yes, he makes a different judgey comment. this last time, it was, "Well, you must really like your job."

Newsflash: I do (most of the time). I certainly did not go to grad school to get an MRS degree.

So, I end up walking away feeling as though my ability as a mother is being questioned.

Jonathan, on the other hand, gets told he is in the running for Father of the Year because, wow, he drops his kid off at daycare AND takes him to the doctor for well visits.

So he is father of the year and I am.... what?

Don't get me wrong, my husband is a fabulous father and husband but, really, we both give it our all. We both do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. Sometimes, its 50/50. More of the time it is some unequal percentage, its80/20 or 90/10. And who is doing the 10 and who is doing the 90, that changes depending on what is going on.

We are, collectively, ok with this arrangement, but it pisses me off to have other people pass these passe judgements on our lifestyle. Its not 1890, I thought we'd moved past all this.

Are women ever going to be able to go to work and have a child and not be judged for it?

Week 30

Yes, I have made it to the third trimester and am officially 30 weeks preggo. I received an email from one of the pregnancy sites this week entitled, "Keeping Cool During a Hot Summer Pregnancy". I was hopeful that there might be some tips I could use because, quite frankly, I am freakin' hot.

Let's face it, its Florida, its humid as hell and I am carrying around about 25 extra pounds at 7.5 months pregnant. I am freakin' hot. ALL. THE. TIME.

These are the tips from the email:

1. Run errands, go for walks, and do outdoor tasks in the early morning or evening when it's cooler. (Uuumm, yeah, our low was 79 degrees last night and I am pretty sure that at that point during the night any place I need to run errands is closed. And even if it were open, I AM SLEEPING!)


Stay in the shade or indoors with air conditioning when temperatures exceed 90 degrees, and remember to limit your activity on those days. (Well, I work indoors but the the maintenance man said its freakin' hot in my office because although the air is a cool 58 degrees coming out of the vents , the motor is really small so it is not blowing anywhere - fantastic!)

Wear light-colored cotton clothing, which reflects sunlight, rather than dark colors, which absorb it. Growing up in the south, this is a kinda standard rule of thumb during the summer. So, when I was pregnant with the Notorious MRA I went shopping for maternity clothes with my mom. I was so, so, so very discouraged because it was spring and I wanted to buy light, airy, springy clothes. My mom pointed out there was a reason I was having trouble finding said colors in the maternity section.
 
Fast forward: this pregnancy I found and bought a crisp, new, white maternity t-shirt. I was happy, oh so happy. Until I saw a photo of myself in said t-shirt. My mom was right. There is a reason you don't see pregnant women wearing a lot of light colored cotton clothing. Its because we look like HUGE cotton balls walking down the street. Its not our best look.
 
Anyone got any useful tips on staying cool?

A grownup is a child with layers on. ~Woody Harrelson

One of the unexpected pleasures of becoming a parent has been in the rediscovery.

As adults, we accumulate so many layers. But the Notorious MRA has been able to peel some of those layers back and Jonathan and I have rediscovered so much.

Some of the things we have rediscovered are holidays, especially Easter and the 4th of July, fireworks, tater tots and fish sticks, and going a little fast on the exit ramps (MRA squeals Wheeeeeee every time now). 

Last weekend, brought a new discovery for MRA and a rediscovery for us.... SLURPEE'S!!!  

Let the chores begin.

I am fairly certain this is one of the (unexpected) perks to having children.

I wonder at what age, this will stop being fun?

The Notorious MRA's Breakfast Menagerie

Pretty much as soon as MRA is officially awake, he gathers up his precious collection of animals and his blanket and begins calling out for some one to GET HIM OUT OF HIS STINKING CRIB!

His next demand is usually for milk.

Once we have successfully relocated his menagerie to the kitchen and given him a sippy cup of milk (and don't even think about forgetting to put the Ovaltine in it. Yes, you must count the scoops with him and then let him lick the spoon and then let him replace the lid) we can sometimes relocate to his little table for breakfast.

Lately though, the eating part of things has been changed. We must also, apparently, feed the menagerie.

MRA will let you know who gets the first bite. With that stabby little finger, he will point at each one and tell you who exactly gets some waffle  (pupPee, BAybee) before he will take a bite. This is a great source of entertainment for him.

Here is the line up: BayBEE, Duck (until he flew the coop), Clover, PupPEE, BubBEE. That creepy blue baby in the front used to be mine. Its hard to believe that any child liked this thing. Its hard plastic, does not move, and kinda has an evil Chucky sort of expression, but.... apparently I loved my Blue Baby and now MRA does too.

Just wondering how long before MRA will feed his own menagerie all by himself? Then again, he is eating and for that I am thankful!



What A Little Napa Can Do For A Soul

Or a marriage or just peace of mind.

In our case, a little Napa was all we needed. Nevermind the getting up at 4:30 in the morning to get there (and back), nevermind the the jet lag. For once we were tired because we did something just for us instead for MRA.

And, less than 24 hours in to the trip, after a little sleep and a little wine tasting, a nice meal out at a restaurant that did not even have a children's menu let alone offer a hot dog, we were both a little like, "Oh yeah, I remember you, the person that I married, who makes me laugh. Your pretty funny. Oh yeah, I remember why we did all this. Oh yeah, I remember why we fell in love and all the reasons I knew you were the perfect person for me."


Not to say that we don't love each other every day but with jobs, and a Notorious MRA for a kiddo, preparing for another baby, the dog, and the dog hair, its easy to get caught up in the business of living (as my Dad calls it.)

And, every once in a while its nice to get away from it all. In our case, we just needed a little NAPA.

Now that we are back, we need a larger wine cellar.

When Life Hands You Lemons...

Some people, my mother included, most annoyingly would finish the sentence with "... make lemonade."

The Notorious MRA, however, he has a different philosophy...



You see, MRA's philosophy is to give the lemons to Daddy!

I kinda like this approach. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just hand off our lemons to some unsuspecting passer-by-er instead of having to figure out how to make the damn lemonade?

But I guess that is what being a child and subsequently a parent is all about. A child gets to hand off the lemons and the parents... well, we take them from our children as often as we can, add some sugar and try to make something sweet for them.

Truth be told, though, Jonathan and I, we like a little Sweet Tea flavored vodka with our lemonade.

May all the lemons your child hands you be this sweet.
Cheers!

Question for those that know me well.

So the other day, Jonathan and I were talking. I don't really remember what about. What I do remember, though, is that he said I am pretty hard on people. The comment has stuck with me mostly because I don't think of myself that way.

I feel like I spend too much time trying to put myself in others' shoes. I also feel that I am the one (during a conversation) that will offer potential reasons for a persons actions. Not necessarily always because I agree with said person or not. Mostly because, over the years, I have found that people say/do things that often seem out in left field but when you talk to them, they have some crazy situation that life has handed them, that one would never really imagine, that has caused them to react a certain way.

Does any of this make sense?

Of course, once you cross my line. That's it. You are over it and there generally is not much going back. I tend to hold a grudge. My line may be far out but if you have gotten that far maybe you deserve what you get.

So for those of you that know me well, what's your opinion? Hard on people or hard on people only when necessary?

MLK Date Day

Monday was MLK day. As it turns out, this is the ONLY day that MRA's daycare is open and both jonathan and I have off. We decided to drop off the kiddo and have a date.

Lunch and a movie.

We both were looking forward to it. While getting ready for an adult day together, Jonathan turned to me, while ironing his pants and said, "Can you come over here and hold on to my leg while pulling on my pants and then say Neh, Neh, Neh repeatedly. I don't know how to iron without all that going on anymore."

I laughed but did not oblige.

Its a New Year!

We made it through the holidays which included a very long drive over the rivers and through the swamps to Aunt Robin's house we went. MRA, once out of the car, was amazing and a very merry Christmas was had by all.

For New Years Eve, well, what can I say, we were asleep by 11:00 actually, I think I was asleep by 9:30 and Jonathan was not too far behind me. It felt so good, if its wrong to go to bed early on amateur night New Years Eve, well, then... I don't want to be right.

People keep asking me if I made a resolution and quite frankly, I have not, (really, why, its just one more thing on my lifelong to do list). But this morning, on the way to work, I thought about making one.

I thought maybe it would be a good idea for me to recite some zen mantra while driving in the parking deck, to work, already 5 minutes late, behind the person who feels the need to come to a complete stop at the top of every ramp even though they have the right-of-way, while I keep getting later and later for work.

But then I thought it is much more satisfying to think about rear-ending them.

Grrrrrrr...