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2月28日

...And One For My Homies.

 
I am sad to report that the whole of "my" rubber-dummy posse has been taken into custody as of yesterday afternoon. Give me 5 minutes. Talk amongst yourselves; I'll give you a topic: A chickpea is neither a chick nor a pea--discuss.
 
I'm a little bummed today. Our law-enforcement-neighbor-friend loaded all my guys up in the back of his truck and I had to hold back my tears. They were like the kids you always wanted to make time for growing up, but only managed to squeeze in a few quality moments just before they matured and left home. I waited until the last minute to make them men and I regret that--rubber surfaces are fun to paint on. Lord knows I tried my best to make them all look criminally insane--what mother wouldn't?--and ready for life on the mean streets of Oklahoma City. Before the complete transformation, they all looked vaguely like Burt Reynolds...or Norm MacDonald, take your pick. Sigh. They grow up so fast.
 
Yes, it's true that most of them will probably get raped once behind bars--I'm no expert on thuggish ruggish life, but I did what I could as far as their fearsome looks are concerned. I googled "Mexican Gang tattoos" and "Prison tattoos" and when I read my fill on that, I moved onto other aspects of gangdom. I think I scared my husband with my newfound knowledge. Once I assured him that it all came straight from a quick naive read on the internet, he got a little excited himself and dressed one up in a flannel shirt and a do-rag. He even helped paint the eyes on the lone Nazi.
 
A few pictures in the new album have nothing to do with my gang-bangers; Saturday was "spa" day--Caleb hacked Mia's hair off before giving us both manicures and pedicures, which I fully appreciated seeing as how I can't even see my feet much less reach them. I'd like to say 2 of the photos are of me, but I'm no fool--my belly is the main attraction around here these days, so there it is, in all its 28-week glory. I feel compelled to apologize for the un-made-up, unkempt, and unhappy look I'm sporting in one of them. Perdoname.
 
Have a great weekend everyone.
2月22日

Religious On You: An Admission of a Somewhat Warped Faith

 
When I was in kindergarten, I was shocked--SHOCKED--and appalled to learn that no, despite their utter cuteness and kindness, Carebears were not more important than Jesus. (And FYI, neither is George Washington, but that's another story for another time.) I don't know what kind of religious training I'd had up until that point in my life, but it obviously hadn't done much as far as my 5-year old spirituality was concerned. I blame my parents.
 
I was obsessed with Carebears. I had one stuffed Grams-Bear (lame, I know). I had millions of miniature plastic ones. I had books and videos. I had a tiny cloudcar that I zoomed around my room and I even had a light-blue Carebear Hot Wheeler that I'd flip upside down and pretend to churn Carebear-flavored ice-cream with. But one thing I lacked: an actual Carebear. Yeah, I thought they were real. I'd have given anything for Tenderheart Bear himself to float through my bedroom window and bestow his ultimate Carebear wisdom upon me.
 
I lied. I threw tantrums. I fought with my sister and my friends--Nothing. Nada. Zip. WTF? Where the hell was my Carebear life lesson? When the arrival of a new baby sister failed to trigger a bedside appearance from even one of the lowlier carebears, I was pissed. My mom had even bought me a book about a girl getting either a baby sister named Katie or a little brother Joey, with a subsequent Carebear visit thus ensuing. It was then I took drastic measures and put a monster in my closet.
 
I'm sure my parents were thrilled. At night, I'd sleep with a pillow over my head. I clearly recall screaming for my mom or dad, but I want to say they probably ignored me most of the time, because I remember cowering in the dark alone a lot more than I remember them actually coming to my rescue. To this day I cannot sleep in total darkness. I blame my parents for that, too.
 
But there must have been a time when someone told me about angels. I don't know who said what exactly, but all of a sudden, I stopped hoping for the carebear and started waiting for my angel--male, named Henry, blonde hair, blue eyes, and pink wings specifically--to show up and blast my closet monster to Kingdom Come.
 
Well, obviously that never happened. Do I still believe in Angels? Of course...I think. Carebears? They're a no-go, although they did keep me happy for the first sixth of my life. Are Carebears the childhood equivalent of Angels? It's possible--I am led to believe they all live in the clouds. I guess after a certain age even the Carebears have to call in a higher power. I doubt there was ever a Teen-Pregnancy Bear.
 
Evidently I'm still a little fuzzy on the whole issue of faith and religion. Some days I struggle to believe in anything at all--other times I'm whole-heartedly convinced that yes, someone is watching over me and the ones I love--and even the ones I don't love. To me, that's as comforting as a Carebear in a cloudcar.
 
So, do I believe? What a question I'm asking myself here! I believe--but it takes some soul-searching. And I do eventually find it--deep, deep down, past the love I have for my husband, past the hopes and dreams I have for my children, past the fascination I have with Fraggle Rock merchandise and progerics, past the gripping fear I have of tornados and aliens...I do believe in God. And for that, I blame my parents.
 
And now, in conclusion, a SMACKDOWN: CAREBEARS VS. ANGELS
 
  • Carebears are cute and cuddly. They come in assorted shapes and colors, and they have wicked-bad tatoos on their bellies. You can pick your fave. Angels, I'm to understand, can look like regular people. And regular people can look pretty ugly.
  • Two things: Cloud Cars and Rainbow Racers. Though Angel Wings are equally sweet, Carebears have the added advantage of being able to shoot rainbows out the ass. Wait. Oh. Out their tummies. Even still--it's a pretty awesome feat. Angels may or may not be able to do this.
  • Carebears have annoying nasal voices and every so often will develop some weird Japanese accent. I don't know for sure what Angels sound like, but I imagine the girls sound like Allison Krauss, and the boys sound like Darby O'Gill.
  • If you see a carebear--Relax. This is just an indication that you are a small child with a small problem. However, if you see an angel, you are in some serious shit. Hope for the Carebear. I do know that, either way, if you have a monster in your closet, you're screwed.
2月19日

Get Your Kicks

 
Captain's Log, Tuesday, the Nineteenth of February, year two-thousand and eight. Week 27 of pregnancy three. The entire lower half of my body is sore and achy, especially at night, and the baby kicks so hard--it feels like my belly is being used as a hamster wheel of some sort, and I actually worry about being rocked and rolled right out of bed. I don't know when it happened, exactly, but I can't see my toes. At all. I can't even reach my toes; bending over is somewhat painful which is making me lazier and lazier as the days go by. 
 
Still a little aggrivated with spaces. Having trouble leaving comments, which is a shame, because there have been somethings I really wanted to comment on but now forget what they are. All you people out there that I read, great stuff lately. Know that.
 
Yesterday I gave Darcy and Smokey baths. I don't know what got into me. Hopefully they can maintain the clean for at least another day. Shadow seemed a little miffed that I did not attend to her; I apologized and explained that I have only so much energy. She peed on the carpet last night for revenge anyway.
 
Saturday did indeed turn out to be awesome, despite the torrential rain and freezing drizzle; the neighborhood ladies and I ended up making the trek to Tres Suenos winery just north of the city--but not before stopping for a very grown up and delicious lunch at The Elephant Bar. I made piglet out of my unborn kid and ate every damn bite off my humongous plate of food...good stuff. I was extremely very lady-like and I hardly cussed out loud at all, which as you know, for me, wasn't easy at all; I may have secured myself a spot in the next road trip. In all seriousness, I had a lot of fun. Yes, it did rain non-stop, and yes, we were little worried when we took a detour down a dark and lonely washed-out dirt road that went on for miles and miles...but I've heard the adventure of getting there can be just as fun as the destination itself.
 
The highlight of my day came when we stopped off of Route 66 at this gas station/tourist trap/soda shop/diner place called Pop's: we couldn't not stop--the building drew us in with its wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows lined with old-school glass soda bottles that you could actually buy--and drink! Soda from all over the place. Soda in every color of the rainbow, in every flavor you could imagine...Pop's paraphanelia out the yin-yang. And so, knowing that I wouldn't be purchasing any wine, I indulged and got myself a handy little cardboard six-pack container and stocked up...for the kids, of course. I also bought 4 coozies in an assorment of colors for the family...and some postcards. You know those Hallmark commercials where some dude buys this stupid little singing stuffed animal and starts imagining the happiness it will bring to the person he gives it to? That was me: I with the orange coozy, Caleb with the lime-green, Mia with the purple and Cheyenne with the pink--each with coordinating color soda, in coozy, in hand, toasting to the greatness of me, Mom, for my fabulous purchase.
 
In reality, Mia wanted the orange coozy, I got stuck with the purple, Cheyenne wasn't really up for soda, and Caleb wound up with the only semi-good-tasting bottle: Tony Soprano's Limoncello soda...which sooooo did not match his coozy.
 
And the neighborhood ladies found out just how crazy I get over piddly, touristy junk.
 
We drove past the "Round Barn" a little ways down the road. I'm still trying to figure out the secret of its coolness; my only guess right now is that it's old and it's on Route 66--ooooohhh.....aaahhhhh. At any rate, I want to take the family there when the weather gets warmer and drier. I also caught a glimpse of hiking trails as we passed a state park in the area. The winery was super-neato, even for a pregnant woman who couldn't drink; the pouring lady was a little stingy with her wine and I was a little disappointed for my friends. During the summer months you can actually go and harvest grapes (and stomp them "when time allows"--not really sure what that means but...) so plans are in the making, at least in my head, for another trip up there--and by that time I'll be able to indulge slightly...as long as I haven't filled up on Limoncello soda.
2月14日

Oh The Cleverness of Me

 
Real fast: I'm more than a little aggrivated at my MSN space because for reasons that lie beyond my understanding, every day I check my page, something else has messed up or changed. Case in point A) Half my photo albums do not show up. So I deleted them. B) My profile picture has disappeared, and C) My lists have all gone wonky and the descriptions for various list items are no longer available...
 
WHAT THE HELL???
 
Okay, enough venting. Happy Valentine's Day to anyone still listening. I got the girls candy and matching pajamas, and I bought Caleb "The Game Plan" (starring, how convienent, The Rock...grrrrr...) so that ought to make everyone happy for the time being, including me. I sent Cheyenne off to school this morning with a Chinese-takeout-shaped box full of chocolate-covered fortune cookies. I'm pretty sure it made her week. God, I so rock as a mom.
 
I missed out on my lovely blog's "anniversary" so I'll address it now: 2 fairly solid years of writing on the internet; I think I'll celebrate with...a frosted animal cracker. Okay, okay. For real: I think this year has been one big, fat, freakin' blast. I. Love. My. Awesome. Life. It certainly calls for at least 2 frosted animal crackers.
 
Moving on.
 
Amazingly, I finished everything on yesterday's to-do list--GO ME--and am now contemplating taking a warm bath. I'm hoping to get Mia down for an early nap so that relaxation will be possible; call me cold-hearted, but I do not wish to share the tub with a million plastic jungle animals and a hyper 3-year-old with an incredible knack for splashing. Besides, it's a tight fit. That plastic elephant takes up a lot of room.
 
That is all.
2月13日

What the French, Toast?

 
Well crap.
It seems the picture of baby bedding I stole from babydepot.com is not showing up on my blog anymore, at least not to me. So nevermind. At any rate, I know it might not be everyone's cup of tea and truth be told, I'm not quite sure why I like it either; I guess because I know I can't do a full-out baby room complete with mural and funky accessories, than the thrill of finding some totally unique bedding is lost on me. I don't mind. Like the kid's really going to be sleeping in his own room anyways...
 
Today I have a lot to do and only a little time to do it. Common sense would tell me to get off this damn computer and get started but we all know how much I hate common sense. Saturday I'm breaking loose from my family yet again to go to a winery with some friends. We've talked about it for months...well, more like 12 months to be exact, but I've heard that normal people have these things called jobs, and lives, and I can understand the delay. I'm the obvious choice for the role of designated driver, and I don't mind. It'll be good to hang out with real grown-up girls and I'm looking foward to it...provided it doesn't snow like crazy. Fingers crossed.
 
I watched a little bit of news this morning--apparently this Obama dude's doing pretty well...I'm really terrible. I should pay more attention to all that political stuff than I do. I only know that I like Clinton and Obama about as much as I could like any candidate, mainly because they didn't bicker non-stop during their debate a couple weeks ago. I could be wrong about that, though. I want to know who McCain would have as his vice president, because let's face it: the man looks like he could drop dead at any minute. Mike Huckabee--is he some kind of preacher? Because I have a hard time liking preachers as it is, and the thought of a preacher-turned-politician certainly doesn't sit well with me. And I'm kind of glad Mitt Romney's out of the picture, since he probably would've used up the nation's supply of hair gel with that big honkin' presidential salary. Not that I use hair gel or anything.
 
 
2月11日

"Sports Fan"

 
So. About the above pictured: I dragged Caleb into Baby Depot yesterday and made him look at baby crap with me--I had to. Activities such as this, or just thoughts about the baby even, must be scheduled and forced upon him; otherwise decisions would never be made and stuff would never get done.
 
Much to my pleasant surprise, he did not resist (much) and actually got into the whole baby shopping thing. At the end of our session he turned to me and said, and I quote, "It just hit me that we're having a baby soon." I can't really get angry with him; he's not the one lugging around an 80 pound living moving being in his stomach.
 
Anyway, we did end up deciding on some crib bedding, which does, I guess, determine somewhat of a theme for our closet, or future nursery. You know how some people go nuts with pink lace and ballerinas when they find out they're having a girl? That's sort of what we did here, except opposite. This will be the first boy born in my family in almost 30 years, so to say we're "a little excited" about our son would be the understatement of the century. We want to boy it up in this kid's room. I searched for dinosaurs playing baseball on firetrucks, but I guess no one's come up with that design yet, so we went for a six-piece set of navy blues and browns with a hint of football and soccer--I looked online for the same thing sold cheaper somewhere else, but babydepot.com seems to have the better deal so far. I have to say I'm relieved that Caleb hasn't brought up doing a Florida Gator themed baby's room. And by the way, Mom, the orange and blue beanbag chair that you so thoughtfully sent up did not help my cause. You are, however, allowed to send Seminole paraphenalia...
 
Maybe later I'll get a life-size cardboard cut-out of a slam-dunking Michael Jordan to accent the wicked-rad Monster truck mural I'm currently thinking about painting.
 
To keep you up to date on the naming situation, I've uncovered a secret, dirty, under-handed plan of Caleb's: He's going to keep on throwing out horrible names (such as Riddick) right up until the due date, so that when he does come up with any old semi-decent name, I'll be so happy it wasn't one of the ones I completely hated, that I'll actually agree to sign the birth certificate. To be quite honest we have a little of the same tastes when we're thinking of "real" names, so I don't really worry so much about it...No bringing the Baby Name Book to the hospital. Come up with at least a short, short list by the time I'm in labor. If that's the case, then I don't mind waiting until the last minute, just so long as I know what to call him before I put him on my boob.
2月7日

Good To Know!

 
I've been feeling a little cruddy ever since Sunday; I think the baby is sitting on an important nerve that runs straight to my...well. Um...Anyway, on top of that, I've been a little stuffed up and coughy. I wasn't really worried about it until I talked to my mom the other day about my sister Katie's ultimate diagnosis: WALKING FUCKING PNEMONIA.
 
Once again, things that could have been brought to my attention yesterday.
 
Not that I would've given up the trip to go visit everybody, nor would I have requested she stay in Pensacola while the rest of us partied hard...but I would have kept a 12 foot radius away from her at all times and opted to forgo using her toothbrush...damnit.
 
Just kidding about that last part. But we did straighten our hair together, side by side, 2 inches away from each other. Plus I sat by her and picked at all the food she didn't eat at dinner. And I did put my toothbrush next to hers in the guest bathroom, so that's sort of close to the same thing...isn't it?
 
Honestly I'm not feeling so bad. I think I'm more worn out and crampy than anything. Every night, I simply must be in bed by 8:00. I'm usually not, but I feel like I ought to be. It's that time of night where the day finally hits me and I'm just too freaking tired to do another thing. It's hurting to walk--how is it that I'm only 25 weeks along? Have I miscalculated something? Could the doctors have missed an additional baby (or 2 or 3) hiding in there somewhere?
 
Alright, so, now that I have my complaining paragraph out of the way...I've been given the task of painting 6 rubber half-bodies. How cool is that? It's good to know people in law enforcement; the rubber men will be used for some sort of target practice or combat practice, which I feel is unfair because they don't have any arms or legs. So, I'm the one that gets to make hard-core gang-bangers out of them. I'm stoked. I've never painted a rubber man before. I'll update you all on my progress with that...it should be interesting to say the least...oh, the sheer awesomeness of it...
 
Mia is determined to watch Star Wars today: "You know, Mommy...the one with Padame and Darth Sidius." "Pada-what? Darth WHO?" "Hguuurrgh. Darth Sidius. Oh! Wait--let me go get my light saber!"
 
I should probably never go on vacation without my children again.
2月4日

...And I'm Spent.

 
Hello, all.
 
Just got back last night from Georgia--yup. The planets all aligned and I was able to go visit my sister and her family. My health held out, I made it to the airport amidst the ice and snow, and my flight wasn't cancelled...so I actually had to suck it up and get on the plane--but it was worth it.
 
My neice is beautiful, but that goes without saying. This was the first trip I'd actually taken without my family...ever...and all I did was sit around and hold a baby. Oh, and eat. Good food. It. Was. Awesome.
 
Had a little bit of a hump to get over Thursday night, totally unrelated to the ominous weather. I needed a suitcase, and the only one that wasn't in the attic was this nasty, ripped little excuse of a carry-on bag that Caleb drug out of his car for me. I took one look at it and laughed. Unfortunately, Caleb was not joking and told me to shut up and use it or else he wouldn't drive me through the ice to the airport the next morning at 4:00. And so, I was forced to pack all my pretty clothes into that ugly thing. It really wouldn't have been a big deal--I'm not so completely spoiled that I wouldn't use an old Walmart suitcase--but when my polka-dotted underwear fell out of an unusually large hole, I had to throw a bitch fit. Although he stuck to his story about the bag being "just fine", Caleb trekked up to the attic and retrieved a fairly new Walmart carry on bag. I was pacified. Problem solved.
 
Anyway, I got into Atlanta at around 9:00. My mom and my youngest sister, Katie, drove up to join the festivities. Luckily, Katie was stark-raving sick, Jenny wasn't stingy with her child, and my mom was feeling generous, so I was able to pretty much hog the baby to all my heart's content. Friday we sat around and made a delicious dinner at the house--we played "Scene It"...and I actually lost. Saturday we shopped till we dropped and went out to eat at a Japanese restaurant before coming home and having birthday ice-cream-cake in honor of my brother-in-law. And Sunday we hung out and watched a movie before taking off our separate ways. Every night I went to bed and slept like a log all the way until morning. Heaven.
 
Later I'll post pictures of my trip, but for now, I'll close with a specialized list:
 
  • Oh, now I remember--babies aren't that scary! Is it normal to like the smell of spit-up?
  • A nine-pound baby is still a pretty small baby. I can't imagine what it felt like to hold Reese at a whopping four pounds.
  • Besides my own house, my sister's is just about the only other place where I might accidentally wash my hair with medicated dog shampoo in the shower.
  • Dogs will--surprisingly--not suffocate underneath the covers.
  • Some dogs are a-okay to sleep with.
  • My brother-in-law is perhaps the only person in the world whose mad useless-trivia skills rival my own.
  • Expired Godiva chocolates taste just fine.
  • I heart my mother's employee discount at Dillards. (look foward to a photo of my new Kenneth Cole suitcase--coming soon!)
  • Note to self: a big screen TV could really be worth checking into.
  • Hacking cough + steady diet of Lucky Charms marshmallows, sweet tarts, and alcohol = HACKING COUGH.
  • Caleb did not--and probably could not--keep the house cleaner than when I left it, despite his boastingly pompous claim to the contrary. Guess I'm not the only one who's not perfect around here. This is quite possibly the nicest observation I've made over the course of the weekend.


We also had a little incident involving the big, honkin', solid, wooden playhouse in our backyard. Last Monday it was picked up by the wind, a-la-Wizard of Oz, and blown over on its side about 20-30 feet away from its original location. I saw the whole thing happen--and if you've ever seen our playhouse, you'd be shocked. It's massive--it's one of those humongous wood cadillac-of-backyard-playsets, complete with a slide and a tunnel and ladders and rock-climbing and swings and a sandbox and a porch underneath a second-story clubhouse with a deck...talk about a powerful gust of wind. I'll be including a picture of that in the new album as well.