Gory Details -as promised. Current mood: exhausted Category: Blogging
Thank you to all of you who have been leaving comments and sending me messages the last 6 weeks. The move from one child to two has proven to be a challenge. Also, my husband has found that the most reliable escape is to look busy on the computer. So, I hardly ever get near it.
We are all great. Jake is a chunk weighing over 12 pounds now. His clothes are all for a six-month-old. We got our fist smiles and cooing laughs this week, which just turns us all into a stupid mess. Mena is a very protective older sister, and she hasn't yet asked to send Jake back to where he came from.
I have started working out like a crazy person, going once or twice a day. I have also started with the personal trainer that I paid for in January. She's not really challenging me yet. I told he that I wanted to feel like I was going to throw-up after every time that I see her. I told her I wanted to be beaten into the ground at every session. She doesn't get it yet. Just as well. I have started to have inexplicable pain and swelling in my joints. Don't blame to exercise. It was happening way before. I have started vitamins and adding more water. My doctor says we are going to wait a week, taking handfuls of Motrin three times a day. If it doesn't get better then we'll check for arthritis. super (the lowercase s indicated my sarcasm in case it wasn't obvious).
Since I know Jake is about to wake up. I want to get to the gory details of my hospital stay. If you're squimish, pregnant (Francesca, this means you), or if you still hold me on a pedestal of perfection then you can stop reading now.
** When I'm nervous, or in an uncomfortable situationn I joke sometimes to the point of being inappropriate. This was my state when we arrived at the hospital at 5 am on September 11. We were quickly ushered back to the c-section prep room and I was handed a gown. It was about 5:03 at this point. I got my IV and my monitors. The nurse commented on how regular my contractions were, and was surprised at how calm I was. I had been having these contractions for about a month, but Jake was unable to drop into my pelvis.
Though I didn't say it the only thing I could think about at this point was becoming the girl in the magic trick where he saws his assistant in half. They walked me to the operating room and I sat on the table, hit my head on the light (cause I'm that tall), and took my spinal block like a champ. Still thinking about the magic trick we were about to perform. I started to get even more nervous. And by nervous I mean anxious. And by anxious I mean I was beginning to have a panic attack. (Seriously, Francesca, you need to look away) As my lower body became uncomfortable tingly and numb, I started to feel like a large cow has taken up residence on top of my chest. I was told that the science behind my emotions was due to the fact that my blood pressure had decided to take a nose dive, which apparently happens to some people. The cure for such an issue was an administration of a drug (i don't know what) and oxygen via nose tube, and rubbing an alcohol pad on my face and then tucking it under my nose tube for me to breathe. I don't know why. I'll ask next time I see the doctor. The pressure on my chest started to let up and they did the old pinch test. "Does this hurt?" "Nope (but I feel it.)" In retrospect, I should have said that whole sentence out loud, but I was so afraid that if I started talking that I would start crying uncontrollably from the fear of being sawed in half.
If you had talked to me before my c-section then you would know I was nervous about the anesthesia. In past experiences it tends to wear off on me. This probably didn't help my anxiety. I was told that if I felt any pain, that they would knock me out, no problem. They made the first incision and the next one before John got to me. I know this because I felt them. I didn't actually feel pain, but I felt the precise lines of movement. When they brought John in I had never seen him so scared, probably because he had never seen me so scared. I waited patiently for the pain to start. I felt the cauterizing and the muscle movement. I felt the reach in and the pull out. I felt the movement of my insides. I then felt every stitch and every staple as they closed up. There was no pain, though. It was a very surreal experience.
I saw the doctor for my six-week appointment the other day and asked her if this was normal. She looked horrified (guess not). Pressure is normal, but not detailed feeling. Oh well. Next time (of which there will NOT be) she promises I will be knocked out, because my body doesn't like anesthesia. Yipee.
So there you have it. After that is a total blur, cause I had the magical morphine button.
Will be posting Halloween pictures soon, so stay tuned.
PS sorry for any typos or words being left out or issues of tense or grammar. I have no time to edit as the babe is a-crying.
Gory Details -as promised. Current mood: exhausted Category: Blogging
Thank you to all of you who have been leaving comments and sending me messages the last 6 weeks. The move from one child to two has proven to be a challenge. Also, my husband has found that the most reliable escape is to look busy on the computer. So, I hardly ever get near it.
We are all great. Jake is a chunk weighing over 12 pounds now. His clothes are all for a six-month-old. We got our fist smiles and cooing laughs this week, which just turns us all into a stupid mess. Mena is a very protective older sister, and she hasn't yet asked to send Jake back to where he came from.
I have started working out like a crazy person, going once or twice a day. I have also started with the personal trainer that I paid for in January. She's not really challenging me yet. I told he that I wanted to feel like I was going to throw-up after every time that I see her. I told her I wanted to be beaten into the ground at every session. She doesn't get it yet. Just as well. I have started to have inexplicable pain and swelling in my joints. Don't blame to exercise. It was happening way before. I have started vitamins and adding more water. My doctor says we are going to wait a week, taking handfuls of Motrin three times a day. If it doesn't get better then we'll check for arthritis. super (the lowercase s indicated my sarcasm in case it wasn't obvious).
Since I know Jake is about to wake up. I want to get to the gory details of my hospital stay. If you're squimish, pregnant (Francesca, this means you), or if you still hold me on a pedestal of perfection then you can stop reading now.
** When I'm nervous, or in an uncomfortable situationn I joke sometimes to the point of being inappropriate. This was my state when we arrived at the hospital at 5 am on September 11. We were quickly ushered back to the c-section prep room and I was handed a gown. It was about 5:03 at this point. I got my IV and my monitors. The nurse commented on how regular my contractions were, and was surprised at how calm I was. I had been having these contractions for about a month, but Jake was unable to drop into my pelvis.
Though I didn't say it the only thing I could think about at this point was becoming the girl in the magic trick where he saws his assistant in half. They walked me to the operating room and I sat on the table, hit my head on the light (cause I'm that tall), and took my spinal block like a champ. Still thinking about the magic trick we were about to perform. I started to get even more nervous. And by nervous I mean anxious. And by anxious I mean I was beginning to have a panic attack. (Seriously, Francesca, you need to look away) As my lower body became uncomfortable tingly and numb, I started to feel like a large cow has taken up residence on top of my chest. I was told that the science behind my emotions was due to the fact that my blood pressure had decided to take a nose dive, which apparently happens to some people. The cure for such an issue was an administration of a drug (i don't know what) and oxygen via nose tube, and rubbing an alcohol pad on my face and then tucking it under my nose tube for me to breathe. I don't know why. I'll ask next time I see the doctor. The pressure on my chest started to let up and they did the old pinch test. "Does this hurt?" "Nope (but I feel it.)" In retrospect, I should have said that whole sentence out loud, but I was so afraid that if I started talking that I would start crying uncontrollably from the fear of being sawed in half.
If you had talked to me before my c-section then you would know I was nervous about the anesthesia. In past experiences it tends to wear off on me. This probably didn't help my anxiety. I was told that if I felt any pain, that they would knock me out, no problem. They made the first incision and the next one before John got to me. I know this because I felt them. I didn't actually feel pain, but I felt the precise lines of movement. When they brought John in I had never seen him so scared, probably because he had never seen me so scared. I waited patiently for the pain to start. I felt the cauterizing and the muscle movement. I felt the reach in and the pull out. I felt the movement of my insides. I then felt every stitch and every staple as they closed up. There was no pain, though. It was a very surreal experience.
I saw the doctor for my six-week appointment the other day and asked her if this was normal. She looked horrified (guess not). Pressure is normal, but not detailed feeling. Oh well. Next time (of which there will NOT be) she promises I will be knocked out, because my body doesn't like anesthesia. Yipee.
So there you have it. After that is a total blur, cause I had the magical morphine button.
Will be posting Halloween pictures soon, so stay tuned.
PS sorry for any typos or words being left out or issues of tense or grammar. I have no time to edit as the babe is a-crying.
You lost the bet. Current mood: bored Category: Blogging
For those of you playing along at home, I am still pregnant. My due date has now come and gone. At last measurement he was sitting at around 8.5 lbs and comfortable. I will be going in for a scheduled C-section on the morning of Tuesday, the 11th. Surgery will commence at 7:00 am. Yes I did say the 11th. I don't feel bad about it. I think it will be nice to have a life to celebrate on such a tragic day.
This will be my first C-section since my first child was born the traditional way, and I am a touch nervous. I have always metabolized anesthesia faster than I ought to have and I have been told that if the medication wears off then I will be put out.
Anyway, unless something interesting happens between now and Tuesday, expect my next blog to come live from the recovery room and dripping with Morphine. Should be interesting.
All the excitment. Current mood: bored Category: Blogging
Last night we watched Insider or Inside man, I don't remember. It's a bank robber movie. This morning I went to my local Winn Dixie, because Mena is ill with something. Fever and sore throat from what I can tell. So, I needed to stock up on Motrin and various liquids. I got everything I needed and proceeded to the checkout counter. I had put my thing on the belt at the first register (the only one open) and was speaking with the girl there. All of a sudden a guy runs out the front door and a kid who was at the customer service counter ran after him. The guy jumped into a mini van that was waiting out front and they tore off. It wasn't before the fast acting kid got the plate number. It all happened quite quickly. Apparently the kid saw the dude run out with a bunch of steaks. The manager was on the phone with the cops as I walked out the door. It was pretty awesome. It's not a bank robbery or anything, but it was definitely the highlight of my week.
After I had told my husband about all the excitement he responded with, "I'm sure they didn't expect you to do anything." I scoffed. Good thing, 'cause the first thing they teach you in retail is not to try to stop them. The most ballsy thing I am trained to do is to offer them "great customer service" in the form of something complimentary. For example, if you are stealing a tablecloth, then I would feel obliged to show you the matching napkins. The idea is that they would just throw down the item out of embarrassment. I have always wanted to try this, but have never had the opportunity.
So I commend the brave Winn Dixie kid who ran after that Minivan to get the tag. I've never had the pleasure of being in a situation like that before. He did a great job.
Update: I am blistering nicely. I am bored to tears. I have seen every episode of Mythbusters and Cash Cab. I go to Sonic every day because they have the best ice on the planet. I can polish off 44 ounces of their Light Lemonade in 12 minutes (ice included). It's all I think about.
It’s possible I might be mentally handicapped. Current mood: bored Category: Blogging
In a wild and crazy attempt to multi-task (list to follow) I have injured myself, again. I would post the picture of my boiling water induced burn, but my belly button took a lot of the "heat" (seeing as how it would win me the photo finish of any race). No matter how I try to crop the photo it just looks gross. So, no picture.
This is how it went down.
I was . . .
a) making lasagna b) making chicken noodle soup c) trying to balance a 3 year old helper (in plastic princess shoes) on a chair while she watched Lion King over her shoulder d) talking to my mother-in-law on my husband's super expensive (yet total piece of junk) cell phone.
This is not multiple choice. I was doing all of the above. I was specifically in motion of draining noodles for the soup into an already full sink of other prep items, and saying good-bye to my mother-in-law when I pulled the noodles too fast and the boiling water got me. It left me with a 3 inch burn on my tummy.
Excuse me while I bathe the dog.
I meant to actually take Buzz Lightyear to get him bathed, but I couldn't find his leash. I wasn't about to wrestle/ chase him through the Petzmart, so I bathed him here. I was going to have to clean the floors today anyway. Black dog + white bathroom = yuck.
So if you need me I'll be scrubbing. I will also be washing the clothes I had on five minutes ago, because that exactly how caught up I am on laundry. I also have lasagna and chicken noodle soup (homemade) if you're hungry. I don't know if It's good because I lost my appetite after my scalding.
Raving mad consipracy. Current mood: awake Category: Blogging
For those of you who don't know, I work for Williams-Sonoma at the Summit in Birmingham. This is an outdoor shopping center, rather than a mall.
Last year, probably the weekend before Christmas, it was still unseasonably warm. So the Summit tried a gimmick to get people out and shopping. The two that I saw were at the Parisian's a few doors down from us, and at the Pottery Barn across the street. What they had done was mount a snow machine/blower contraption on the roof of these locations. This came across more awkward than grand. It was a tiny thing, much like a bubble machine at a kids party. The "snow" it blew landed in a measly three foot square below. It looked like it was more confusing to most than anything.
Anyway, to hype the event, they sent all the stores a memo explaining the concept and attempted to get us to tell our customers they must return to the summit to see such a sight.
This year I think they are trying to pull one over on us yet again. I'm not saying I got a memo, but I think I'm on to something. I was driving to work this past Wednesday, and I noticed something. There were three guys with leaf blowers just standing at the edge of the main Summit Boulevard blowing leaves into the street. In the days to follow I noticed that the parking lot (as opposed to every other surface in the state of Alabama) seems to be acquiring more and more leaves. Even walking out of Panera with my morning coffee I noticed that an unusual amount of leaves were piled under my car.
You have to understand that the Summit has an army of landscapers. There are several huge trucks that go around sweeping. There are pick-up's pulling trailers full of recycled water to make sure all the flowers are perfect. There is an army of golf carts toting people who dig up and replant the bed weekly. There are even more golf carts toting men with trashcans cleaning up the messes people leave. Plus the actual people on foot who reside in the parking lot with their brooms and dust pan's on a sick.
I'm not quite crazy enough to be taking leaf samples to see IF infact these leaves did fall from the many trees at the Summit (none of which have actually changed colors yet). But I do find it interesting that the Summit seems to simply be moving them around.
Very interesting indeed, Summit. Thant's right. I'm on to you, Summit. Go ahead, blow some leaves around, and maybe the people of Birmingham will forget for a second that it has been over a 100 degrees for the last two weeks. Once we get out of our cars we know it still blazing summer. But that's what you want, isn't it, Summit? "We see you driving by. Look at those leaves we blew on your car on your way home. It's fall at the Summit. Nice and cool. Come shopping in the cool."
A quick word. Current mood: blah Category: Blogging
"Once a Carnie, always a Carnie. Mom still cries when she sees a tilt-a-whirl or a lady in a tube top." If you've never seen Drop Dead Gorgeous, then stop everything and go out and rent it today. It's gold, pure comedic gold. Every time I see it on TV, I watch.
Well, if you haven't heard (cause I sure do whine), I'm fat, miserable, and 9 months pregnant. It is also important to mention that today was day 12 in a row of 100+ temperatures in this great state. That's just hot, people. Enough. As the final word on the matter, we will be delivering by c-section on or around the 10th of Sept, if I don't go on my own before then (which I am fully expected to).
I went to target today, which I love, but I forgot one of the main things I was shopping for, so later on in the day I braved my local Wal-mart, and I tell you it made me ill just to be inside it. it was horrible and stinky. I even tried the "hey, how's it going," to the guy vacuuming the kids department and he just stared back at me. I gave it another shot at the register. "Hey, how are you?" to a blank stare. Ugh.
This blog is about as random as I am these days. Sorry it's dull. I had funnier things to say this morning, but I've forgotten them all, and I can no longer sit here.
Hurry, Sister, we have lepers waiting. Current mood: cheerful Category: Blogging
My husband made me watch Cannonball Run II today, and yes, the most fascinating part of the movie was seeing how drunk they ALL were.
I had a day off today and I just sort of acted like I was off. That may sound strange, but it actually felt strange to do it.
I was confused by one incident in particular today. I went to Old Navy to see if they had any baby clothes on sale (because I am still largely in denial about having a child at the end of this month and I'm not ready to commit to full price clothes). The center of the store had all these tent style dresses. I walked up and down the section. These dresses were huge. I am huge. I am totally confused. Old Navy doesn't carry maternity. I walked up and down the section. The people here will think I'm crazy if I think I could fit into these dresses. "But they're so huge," I thought. I finally decided that the Trussville location was the only place I could get away with trying on the dress (being far enough away from my normal Old Navy). As I walked to the back I laughed at the girl tending the dressing area. We both laughed at the situation, but I admitted that curiosity had gotten the best of me, and I had to know if it fit or not. Strangely enough, it did. And friends, it's a medium. I am under NO circumstances a medium. I think this is God's way of saying "sorry for the low-rider jeans and bohemian crud last time you were pregnant." I really had very little choice with that trend. So, it is you, the non-pregnant, that I wonder about.
Anyway, this evening was Mena and my first "beauty day." I did a full spa treatment that included flower stickers on her fingernails, and sponge curlers in her hair. The final treat was a dessert of strawberries and whip cream. It was a blast.
I judge you and your fries. Current mood: overinflated Category: overinflated Blogging
So John and I went to Rojo today for lunch and it was nice. I got a taco salad, and he got a quesadilla. It was fun. It felt young, and whimsical. We were sitting at the bar, 'cause my husband knows everyone in town, and the bar is a better vantage point.
As he was talking to a few people that we ran into I looked down at the table next to us. Being at the bar I could see all the food on this neighboring table. There was a man and three women there, obviously on a lunch break from work. He had ordered a burger with fries, and I was appalled at his plate. He had drizzled ketchup over the top of his entire order of fries. I actually associate this with childhood and I believe it shows the presence of an inability to make a proper transition into adulthood. Doesn't he know that the dip method is far less messy. It allows a controlled environment for ketchup delivery via fry. It reduces ketchup to hand contact, which is dangerous to all pressed white shirts everywhere.
I found myself judging him, as if his mistake had been a fashion faux pas as well. He might as well have been wearing shoulder pads, jams, or stirrup pants. This was when he looked up. He caught my look of disappointment. It was probably mixed with a partial scowl. It made me sad, for him and the women forced to be seen with him. He wiped his hand on his already dirty napkin. I looked away and shook my head.
This is the only good excuse to drizzle.
or... I guess if you're Matt LeBlanc
I have to go. I am Tivo-ing Twin Peaks and it is totally inappropriate for my 4 year old.
Between my sister-in-law's pre-wedding hoopla and the relocation of my place employment, my free time has been used for, well, sleep. Now with the move behind me (Grand opening 7/7/7) and the wedding a distant memory (also 7/7/7) I can now turn my attention to the lighter side of life, namely myspace and television.
In regards to the wedding, I have a bit of information to pass along. If you are in a "condition" such a mine, or if you have issues with spending some quality time in a fake-n-bake machine getting some much needed pigment, then you might turn to one of the many self-tanning products on the market today. As mentioned in a previous blog (with picture) I have some problems blending (mostly because I am impatient). After a three day search for any one who would professionally spray me a tan, I discovered that all professional sprayers we out of town for the Fourth of July week (note week, not weekend). After boohoo-ing my troubles to Lynn, she refered me to a new product on the market. It was a foam (the company shall remain nameless, not because I fear being sued, but because I can't spell it and I'm too lazy to get up and look. okay?). It goes on brown so you can see where it needs additional blending. Twas lovely if I do say so. So, you have instant tan that builds. I suppose I should note my giggle at it's little warning. The instant part of the tan would surely wash off if I were to go swimming after I put it on. Ha ha foam, I will not be swimming, no worries.
Ding dong, the wedding day arrives, and I have been working on my instant-build-a-foam tan for three days, and I am looking quite... tanner... I don't know, whatever. It was great. We had a lot to do wedding day. We had a ribbon cutting ceremony at the Sonoma then a brunch then hair then make-up then pictures, etc. Well when I went out that morning to start the festivities (after getting my self tan and straight-haired gorgeous) I noticed something strange. Now if you aren't from Alabama then you might not know that we shower with buckets to catch our water, just so we can get up at 4 in the morning to water our lawns, because we are in a Stage 3 drought. This is the reason rain seemed so strange. It wasn't a real rain though. No need for panic. Well except for the fact that this went on ALL DAY. After getting in and out of my car a hundred times it made my instant-build-a-foam tan change my skin coloring to something that curiously resembled a giraffe. All I can do is hope that my in-laws were to busy worrying about wedding whatnot and whether or not I could keep my flower girl under control to notice my brown camouflage type skin. But that's what I'm here for ladies and gentlemen, to screw up self tanning so you don't have to.
I did have another bout with my addiction as well. After falling off the wagon, the road to recovery has been a long one. Especially when my husband thinks it's funny. Yes. He bought me Pringles. He had the nerve to ask me to save him some. Well after about 10 seconds and half a can later I found the inner strength that only God himself can provide and I slammed on the top and took them to my husband with strict orders to hide them if he felt he could not finish them. The very next day I was tearing his office apart as if I was looking for a mistress. I didn't find them, and I'm glad.
I will leave you with this. If you aren't already watching Flight of the Conchords on HBO then get on it now. I've seen them on comedy central, but they have a sort of sitcom now. The video is messed up at the beginning, so be patient. If you've ever been in love, this is for you.
If I were a superhero, this would be my weakness... Current mood: guilty
I have sort of a deep dark secret. It's as if I had been a heroine addict many moons ago. I had gone through a rehab of sorts, and found my inner strength to suppress the inner demon. I had overcome this addiction. I never allowed myself to be in the same place with this substance. I had admitted my problem and believed that I had no power over it other than pure abstinence. I had really over come the hardest part of it. I was able to resist it on any occasion.
Friday, I was tested, and I failed. I can't really blame Publix. They have tempted me before with their "buy one get one free" bins of shame. It was shopping with the Devil's Advocate in the form of my husband that tricked me. I put up no fight at all. "Huh, look at that. Pringles has a loaded baked potato flavor." I mean, seriously, what was I supposed to do? Besides get two. I was fine in the store. We went down each of the isles with ease, picking out other food stuffs that we would enjoy the week through. It was at the checkout line that I started to notice a change. I watched the tall slender can as it made it was down the conveyor belt and I watch it go into it plastic bag. I then took note of the place that it was rested in the cart.
Once in the parking lot my husband started to load the groceries into the cart. I spotted the bag containing the can of Pringles emerge and my hand shot out, as if possessed. Taking the can and ripping the plastic top off and then the seal, my unknowing husband says, "you can't even wait 'til we get home, huh?" It was then that I looked at him with pitty. I had somehow managed to keep this from him. "No," I said, "this is coming with me." Getting into the driver's seat I was appalled by how easy the can slid into my cup holder. I can only compare what happened next to a sort of sci-fi assimilation. Like when the humans are turned to Borg, Cybermen, or Daleks. I was now part human and part mechanical drinking bird. My arm was not my own, traveling up and down from the can to my mouth. The part of me that was still human was trying to explain (between chips) the experience to my poor husband. I tried to explain that I was powerless against this monster. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't control it. All the two of us could do was wait for the can to be empty.
I am now again on the road to recovery. My husband understands that we can't buy Pringles anymore. So I leave you with this. You may have, in the past, seen a group of kids with the "fever for the flavor of a pringles." This may have seemed like a harmless marketing gimmick. I want you to watch it now, and see the pain it their eyes for the addiction not yet understood by society. I think a support group is in order.
Here are the rules: Once you have been tagged you have to write a blog with 15 weird or random things, facts, or habits about yourself. At the end, you choose 5 people to be tagged, list their names, and why you chose them to be tagged. Don't forget to leave a comment that says, "You are tagged" on their profile and to read your latest blog.
1. The thing at the bottom of a banana (that you pick off) is banana poop. 2. I don't like closed closets or office doors before 8 am because I'm scared of the dead body behind the door. 3. I've most likely been to more sci-fi conventions than my husband. 4. I can only use a towel once. 5. I love the smell of clean sheets. I only own one set because I would rather wear one set out rather than fold a second set. 6. I think that if I watch bible tv, and I change the channel, god knows. It does not please HIM. 7. I like to run. 8. When Lynn and I are like 95 years old we're gonna rob a bank. Just for kicks. (Please don't tell. It will ruin the fun) 9. I can't stand cake. Most of you know this, but most forget. 10. When I was little I thought the rear view mirror was the re-view mirror because it re-viewed what you already passed. 11. I have like 15 things of deodorant and I hide them in various places in my cars or purses. I don't know why but I always forget this part of my morning. So I have to go straight to a grocery store or pharmacy right when I leave the house and buy more to put on right them. 12. My parents used to take me to school really early in the morning and I used to think that the moon was God's car, and he was driving along with us. 13. I also used to contemplate concrete car tires and rubber roads. 14. I rock the air violin. 15. When I parallel park I go in head first. I find this works best for me.
I wish that I were able to change the channel. It's in the morning on a day off when I have to go to work late that I am overcome by this. I will watch whatever channel has on Rachel Ray's new talk show and then Tyra. I HATE these two shows. I really do. I promise. They make me sick and I scoff constantly while they are on. The only reason that I can think of to allow these show to take presence in my home is that I'm usually doing something else and I want to make sure that if I have something on in the background it's not too interesting. Then I will find myself watching TV instead of doing whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing. Why not leave the TV off? I don't know! Stop it with the questions!
The coolest thing that Mena got for Easter was this little egg that you put in water. Over time (like 4 days) it actually hatches. Pieces of the egg crack and fall off and the little animal inside pokes out and eventually breaks itself free (this last part is an assumption, I would not know the truth because my husband shook the egg and it's water so violently that the egg fell off). Anyway, now we have this duck, free from its water and it egg. It is sitting on my sink. Lemme tell you what. This sucker kind of stinks. Mena sure does want to play with it. She has since the beginning. I told her it had to dry, and now that it has it stinks like mildew. So today, while she is at school I'm going to break her heart and throw the duck in the trash. Maybe I'll tell her he went to the lake, because that's where ducks live. I don't know.
So I'm giving flavored water another chance. I got some lemonade crystal light, which is always a safe bet. I also got some pomegranate something. Well the bottle of water was too full with water. Did I drink just a little bit to make rooms for the flavor pack? Not so much. It's just powder. It should just fall in without much displacement. You should be able to just pour it in and the weight of the powder should just push the powder into the water. No, I didn't take physics. It didn't really turn out like I had hoped. A knife (a logical tool for forcing flavor into a water bottle) and a spill and five paper towels later, I had red water. Well as a service to you few who read this. I am putting out a warning. The picture does it no justice. It will stain your skin like nothing I have ever seen. My husband thought upon entering the kitchen after this battle with the flavor pack that I had been cut badly enough to warrant a hospital visit.
I love my three-year-old, but geez. This past week we went to eat at Jackson's Bar and Grill (or something like that) in Soho. It was very trendy and fun. They had a lot of the skinny, dirty little bartenders that I remember from the restaurant scene from back in the day. They serve really random things on their menu, like fried twinkis and smores. I made several mistakes that evening. 1) This place was not going to be a good environment for a three-year old. 2) We should have sat inside away from the very tempting fountain. 3) A three-year old needs to be confined to a booth. That's just a fact. She did pretty good considering the circumstances, but we all passed out from exhaustion about 15 minutes after we got home.
Friday, after I got off work at 9:30, we drove to Lake Martin. We had a Saturday wedding to go to and we all wanted to get there early. I have somewhere in my memory a distant vision of what a vacation used to be. I still think that this vision might be attainable, but alas.
We arrived at this gorgeous house at like 11:30. Being in a strange house I watched a movie with Mena in bed as she was trying to fall asleep. Once sleep finally came, she wet the bed. This was a like 2. Oh, and when I say bed, I mean me too. So, we had to strip the bed, change clothes and then transfer ourselves to this window seat that is large ennough to be a bed for Mena. I stress Mena in tha tlast sentence, because it was not long enough for me. Did I sleep there anyways? Oh I was there. Not so much sleeping, but I was there.
Anyway the wedding was the next day in the evening. It was outside at another lake house. It had been cloudy all day, but it managed to rain right when the ceremony started. Everyone ran under a gazebo, and they completed the service. Mena was so excited the whole time, totally convinced she was in the presence of royalty. After chasing her around for an hour we went back to the house. John went back to the wedding and said that a small electrical panel outside the house caught fire and they had to call the fire department. Talk about stuff going wrong! The wedding party did have their pictures take with the whole fire team before they left. It will sure make for good memories.
So I'm totally obsessed with Amy Winehouse. I love her sound, but I was a little sad to see her on Best Week Ever throwing up and doing a bad cover of Michael Jackson's "Bad". I still think she's pretty badass, and if I get reincarnated I'd like to give her life a spin.
So I'm just starting to break into the nerdy work of podcasts. So far I've only been introduced to Diggnation (funny funny) TWIT (informative) Tiki Bar (funny) and This American Life (radio show and new tv show on showtime). Anyone else podcasting or vipoding? This type of stuff is excellent for road trips. It make take a little more organization to listen on a regular basis. Anyway, I'm a newb.
Sorry this wasn't really funny or entertaining, sometime you just gotta gripe, and talk about nothing in particular.
If I could set the mood to yellow it would nt be because I'm scared. Current mood: aggravated Category: Blogging
First let us ponder the avocado. In my former life, working in coffee shops I made guacamole on a regular basis. With pounds and pounds of avocados at my disposal, I found it easy to make the substance through trial and error. You see, the avocado is ripe for like 5 minutes of it life. When it is not in its 5 minutes of ripe time it is dancing the fine line between tasty and nasty. Some of this dance involves a paper bag, but lets stick to the story. I bought some "RIPE NOW" avocados at Whole Foods a week ago, thinking "I would love some guacamole. It would be also very tasty on a sandwich for lunch." I, of course, did NOT buy any of the other ingredients I would need. Since I am secretly the laziest person on the planet (please don't tell) I did finally make it to the store a day or so later to get the lime and tomato I would need to complete the vegetable portion of the recipe. Excited about makin' me some guac' I would soon discover that indeed my avocados were no longer "RIPE NOW." They had moved on to Nasty Rotten Now. SO, a day or so later I trucked it down to Winn Dixie and got some more avocados. These were not of the "RIPE NOW" variety, but they had a slight give on the exterior. I figured they'd be fine the next day. It was yesterday after long consideration, that I decided it was time. They felt slightly squishy, but not mushy. I cut them, my knife easily running through them (I would later find out this was due to the fact that I have kick ass knives), but the seeds seemed a little stubborn. No bother, I was not to be deterred. After about 10 minuted of attempting a spoon, and then my fingernails to remove the skin (all the while cursing like Yosemite Sam) I started to think that I had acted too soon. Still I had become a sort of guacamole monster. I was unable to stop the events that happened next. After I had most of the green in the bowl I attempted the tool from this former job that had been bequeathed to me. It is much like a potato masher, but it has holes. This would not work, so I brought out the knife that had mislead me earlier. I proceeded to cut the avacado in the bowl much like someone would stir whipped cream. When that wouldn't work I overturned the bowl onto the cutting board and started to chop it like one would chop herbs. During which I narrowly missed cutting off one of my fingers. I only grazed it. This didn't even slow me down. Once I had chopped it (still cursing like Yosemite Sam), I started adding the other ingredients like nothing had happened. The lime (stung like the blazes in my new wound) and the tomato went into the bowl, along with some spices. Then it was time to taste. I was probably as good as crazy at this point. I proceeded to make two sandwiches (one for lunch and one for dinner) and I sat down to eat my lunch. Half way through it reality hit me. It was garbage. The avocados were clearly not ripe and it was like eating slimy rocks. It makes me sick to think about it. I still put it in a container in the fridge, because I'm in denial.
Not to trout Francesca, but I would like to take this moment to vent about the current state in Alabama. If you've not been to Alabama, you may not know that it is the prettiest state I have even seen in my life (we're talking landscape, people). It has some of the biggest trees I've ever seen, and the most lush grass everywhere. The flowers this time of year are absolutely breathtaking. For mother nature to achieve such a feat of beauty, we are given a month of yellow. I, for one, am not allergic to the beast, pollen. It does not effect my health in any way. It does how ever effect everything else. I will illustrate this by recounting my morning thus far. Upon stepping outside I noticed that my car, yes my white honda civic, was now yellow. Walking to my car Mena and I made foot prints in the yellow driveway. Leaning on the car Mena turned her black pants, yellow. I would run my wiper fluid, but my windshield wipers are rotted (but yesterday I turned my wiper fluid bright yellow when I attempted to clear my windows). We drove past the house with the aluminum roof that was now yellow. When I got home, I made noticed I had made tire tracks in my yellow driveway. There is a fine yellow dust IN my car, because I use my air conditioner. There is nothing to be done. If you try to get it off it will be back in minutes. Francesca said it best when she called it the "great equalizer." If all we can derive from it is pain and sorrow, us middle class citizens can drive around and secretly laugh at the Hummer, the Porche, the Lexus SUV, all yellow, just like us.
Long time coming. I'm just a girl, part two. Current mood: happy
Ask and ye shall receive. Seek and ye shall find. Knock and the door shall be opened unto you. Hallelujah.
Yesterday was a day of stockroom magic. Now that we have our fourth manager, Carrie, we are all able to take turns in the stockroom doing projects and whatnot. Yesterday was my first day back there in quite a while, and I was in uber-project mode. After doing several other projects I chose to tackle the attic. This is where we keep all of our empty boxes for merchandise that is on the floor and also all of our visual magic type things. These are things like sign holders, plate stands, plastic carrots, extra shelves and the like. I was putting some very long grass in a bucket with other bundles of very long grass when my face came in contact with a piece of metal that I had not noticed protruding out at eye level. There is a very large sign that is supposed to hold a poster wedged in the corner, but it was upside-down and the feet were sticking straight up. It was my right eyebrow that located the leg, and I was actually quite stunned when my face bounced off it. I felt kind of like I was under attack. It hurt so bad that I had to put my arm over my eyes and rest my head on of the shelves nearby. Besides that pain from my eyebrow I was overcome with yet another runny nose (see the incident in the car in the blog "I'm just a girl") and an overwhelming urge to pee. If you've know me for any amount of time you know I am not over come with this urge often, so I found it quite shocking. I was initially disappointed. He I was yet again with another horrifying injury and nothing to show for it. But sure enough on a trip down to the bathroom later that day I got my reward. I had blood! A nice little drop, right on my eyebrow. I wiped it away with sad regret, knowing that only I had seen it, but I was rewarded again! A cut! It's a full 1/4 inch cut. Totally awesome. I would take a picture of it, but it really not that impressive to look at.
Just to further reward myself I tripped coming out of Mena's school today and totally ate pavement. Skinned knees and hands. Total package. The fall was much less graceful than I would have liked, but no witnesses.
I'm just a girl. Current mood: disappointed Category: Blogging
So I closed (again) at work tonight, and I have to open tomorrow. So instead of cutting my morning family time short, I decided to go to the grocery store tonight after work. I had to get refreshments for the bridal event tomorrow. Don't ask. Anyway, when I left the store and walked out into the the parking lot, it started to rain. Right then, rain. So I yelped a little and then jogged to my car. I did the key fumble, managed to get the door open and threw the groceries across to the passenger side. As I was sitting down I noticed the seat belt sitting in the area where the door would soon be closing. So, in an attempt to not get any more wet (cause I might melt), I grabbed part of the belt and tried to fling the rest of it into the car. Oh I flung it alright. I flung that seat belt buckle right into my nose. Now I'm a girl, by birth, and a passive one at that. I've never been punched in the nose. So this is a little new to me. It immediately started running. So, naturally, I had to stick my finger in my nose (several times) to check for blood. This kinda of stuff always happens to me when no one is watching. Some would say this was a good thing, but I know my nose isn't broken. I'm pretty sure it won't even bruise. What's the point then, I ask you? What's the point of wacking yourself in the face with a belt buckle if you have nothing to show for it in the morning. So I leave this experience feeling mostly... disappointed.
The Thing from the Fire Swamp Current mood: thankful Category: Blogging
So, I closed last night at work. That puts me driving home at about 9:30 last night. I really don't like closing so I rush a little bit to get home so I can see John for five minutes before he goes to sleep. If you have EVER ridden in a car with me you could call me a careful driver. You could talk and talk, but I rarely take my eyes off the road for conversation purposes. This is mainly because I am driven by my most terrifying fear, turning an animal into road kill. It has been known that on occasion I might put the lives of my passengers at risk to avoid any small animal. So, needless to say that slammed on my brakes and swerved when my car was charged by a possum a block away from my house last night. I will say it looked less like a possum and more like the thing from the fire swamp. As the contents of my car went crashing into my front seat I came to a stop in the middle of the road. Not know if I had heard the dreaded "bump" of death, I inched forward. I got far enough up that I could look into my rear view mirror and see that there was no thing from the fire swamp carcass. I felt instant relief, but as I progressed down the final row of houses and turned into the driveway, I wondered. I had heard stories of possums jumping when surprised by cars. Had this possum jumped? Had he maybe jumped into the underbumper of my car? I don't know much about possum aerobatics. So, when I got home I parked almost at the bottom of the driveway, and got out of the car. I walked around the front of the car (a safe ten feet away), and listened. I heard a "sssssss." Could be car, could be thing from the fire swamp, either way I trucked it (pretty fast) into the house. I remember what that thing did to Carey Elwais' shoulder, and I am not on board that train. Anyway, the situation seems to have resolved itself, and the car got me to the gym and back this morning with no problems.
Now I would like to share with you a life long dream. One of my favorite movies of all time is Girls Just Want to Have Fun. I'm not going to lie, I think I have it memorized. Anyway, I am on the search for a Dance Tv T-shirt. I need your help, reader. If you see one please let me know. If you have forgotten (or are maybe unaware) of the magic of this movie have I have included a clip. It dictates one of the best rules of child rearing. If you want a baby to sit still, put it on a pizza. amen.
exhausted 
bored 
awake 
blah 
cheerful 
tired 
guilty 
cold 
aggravated 
happy 
disappointed 
thankful