Orange Wishes

Happy Birthday to Jim!

Today is Jim's 40-something birthday! Yippee! I'm sure he's celebrating in high Home Depot style! (He's a store manager where I Can Do It and He Can Help.)

My mom is so crazy. (Have you ever wondered where I get it?!) She had a bobblehead of Jim made for his birthday! I think the people did a pretty good job with his likeness, don't you?

Too bad the bobblehead people couldn't put a Depot apron on him!

Bugaphobia

Saturday David and I took Ella to K-State's Insect Zoo. She wasn't hesitant about going since I told her that all of the bugs would be behind glass where she couldn't touch them and they couldn't touch her. She's so cool.

There was one section of the place that had a 'petting zoo' and she did touch the wandering leaf bug. In my attempt to get her to touch the other things, I had to go first. So I touched a giant millipede and a tarantula. Yeah. A TARANTULA! Which she did not touch, btw. Holy crap the things I do to try and be a good mother!

Generally I can handle bugs OK, especially in front of Ella because I don't want to transfer my fear/grossed-out-ness to her. I am very hard pressed, however, when it comes to roaches. I just can't stand the nasty, nasty, super speedy little shits. (I always imagine them crawling up my arm or something.)

So here we go, tra la la, through the insect zoo. All the way up to the big freakin' display of roaches. Ugh. I start to get a little uneasy, maybe feel a bit of a chill and perhaps hold back the urge to throw up. Now it seems very rational and likely that they will escape from their little glass boxes and crawl all over me. These are no little shits, as mentioned before. Oh no, these are BIG, FOUR INCH LONG mo-fo's that could take a person down if they wanted to, I'm sure. AND THEY HISS. Heaven help me.

I had to walk away.

Ella Grace, in her kind, unfreaked out by the ginormous roaches way, says "It's ok, Mama, they are behind the glass". Such a dear, sweet child. I say "Thank you, baby, I know" from my safe place way across the room.

I think I'll take another round with that tarantula.

Teaching mama how to be cool with bugs is tough work.

RSVP

In the past month or so I have put my name out there to three potential places of employment and one mother requesting a play date.

Take a guess at how many replies I have gotten.

Go on, give it a shot.

Did you guess ZERO? Because that would be how many. What in the hell is going on here?! Don't these people know that I am not to be messed with given my current state of affairs? For now I am going to place the blame on the non-respondents for their non-responsiveness. (I don't know how they can sleep at night.)

Update: Ella knows that the one thing holding up her play date with Lily is a phone call from Lily's mother. So she asked her to call me. Damn, that girl is sharp! E tells me last week, out of the blue, that Lily's mom will call me when she gets back from vacation. Hmm....She better or else this could make for an awkward encounter some day at preschool!

Little Hamilton

This is Hamilton, the son of our friends Andy and Beth. I thought he was SO stinkin' cute that I had to share with everyone. I told Andy that maybe Hamilton and baby Ashley could be boyfriend/girlfriend? Unless he aims high and goes for an older woman in Ella Grace!

There's a not-so-subtle message here...

Impulse buy-a-thon

These things started it all.


They are crazy good and crazy addictive. I had some a while back and scarffed them down in no time but hadn't bought any more because they are a little expensive.

I had to run to the grocery store over lunch in hot persuit of soap and tea bags. TWENTY-FIVE dollars later, I emerged from the grocery store with my soap and tea bags... and a few other items.

Here is the thought process of a crazy pregnant girl (see if you can follow along, I dare you):

'It's lunch time and I haven't had the Chinese food from here in a long time. I'll take the #3 meal, please... OK! Tea bags!...Here's the tea bags... Mmmm, the next aisle over is cookies...Hey! I could get some of those Pirouette things!... There they are! Chocolate hazelnut, that's the kind I like. But look! They have chocolate mint too! I bet those would be really good, kind of like an Andes candy, but damn they are expensive!... Andes candy? I used to eat those all the time at Granny and Grandaddy's house. I wonder if they have those here? Where's the candy aisle?... Here they are! Andes candy! And a lot cheaper than the other things! One box for me and off I go to check out... Except wait! What was right next to the Andes? Ooohhh, Milk Duds! Yum! A box of those for me too!'

I would say Somebody Stop Me! but I don't think anyone is brave enough to try!

Georgia on my mind

Why, why, why?

Why do all of the crazy ass stories have to come from the homeland?! As if everyone around here doesn't have enough to make fun of me about already, this story comes out. (I had two people forward this story to me, asking if I knew this dude. ha ha.)

Armless Man Delivers Fatal Headbut?! In Georgia, no less. Lovely.

(I'm thinking that if I got killed by an armless man I would be ashamed.)

Birds

It was like a scene from The Birds. All these damn gulls just kept making the rounds around the fields near our house and I knew that eventually they would show up right by our house... and sure enough. These pictures were taken from my deck and if I didn't keep myself steady with dreams of a shotgun, I would have freaked the eff out!

Gotta Have Faith

Today on my drive to preschool, my favorite radio morning show took a few minutes to talk very seriously about suicide (in response to the news about Owen Wilson). The DJ told a story about how suicide had touched his life, including the death of his nephew. He quoted his brother as saying 'no father should outlive his son'.

Bring on the tears for me.

Even as hormone riddled as I am, I would have begun crying anyway. Losing one of my children has got to be my biggest and most real fear. So much so that I can't even really discuss it further here, because I'm about to cry as I type.

On the way to work I compose myself and prepare for the next few hours until the weekend. Until I fire up my computer and read an email from Karen. Yesterday was the three year birthday of her twins Gavin and Colin. Unfortunately, yesterday was also the three year anniversary of their death (baby Gavin and baby Colin were born so early that even the sons of two Army Captains couldn't soldier through).

Karen writes:

"Today was the first time in a long time that Gavin & Colin's birthday did not consume me in grief. No. Instead, I decided to remember them, and what could have been. I decided to join the Fight To Save Babies. Together, we can make sure that another family doesn't grieve over the loss of their baby."

Did I mention that I started crying again? After my waterworks earlier, my eyeliner didn't stand a chance. I followed the link and donated to the March of Dimes in honor of two wonderful little boys that I never knew.

In the time since September of 2004, Karen's husband got deployed for another tour in Iraq, she joined my boxing class and became my partner, got pregnant (gotta love those 2 week R&R breaks!) and had an adorable baby girl. Who they aptly named Faith.

In honor of Karen and her family, who have endured my own greatest personal fear, I am trumpeting her cause here. If you have a few extra dollars that you would like to donate to the March of Dimes in memory of two little boys who would have surely been Ella's boyfriends, click here.

Perhaps you have personal experience with a baby being born prematurely. Or perhaps you were one yourself. Or perhaps you have children that made it to full term and are very grateful. Or, even better, you had a wonderful labor and delivery nurse (which Karen is, btw) that helped you or your wife through one of the toughest and most rewarding experiences of your life.

If you don't feel your mouse moving over to the very fast, very easy link (click here!) please keep my plea in the back of your mind the next time that you see a March of Dimes bucket asking for your change or the cashier at the grocery store asks you to add a dollar to your bill for a donation.

The Filipino goddess, big K, with her smoldering husband and beautiful baby Faith.

Play Dating

In Ella's cubby Monday was a note that said:

'Sarah Somebody
Lily's Mom
785-123-4567
To set up a play date! :)'

When David gave this to me (since this is Mom territory, after all) I didn't know what to do/how to respond. My initial reaction was 'I don't even know which kid Lily is, much less who her mom is!' Then I wondered how this play date business goes and what do we do and does this mean that I have to sit and chat with a total stranger while our daughters play?! Then I couldn't figure out what my problem was and why didn't I want to be sociable and possibly make a new friend?

I somehow associated play dates with military wives (set me straight, Karen!). What if Lily's mom is military and perhaps her husband is deployed... Shame on me for not wanting to get together with a woman who could probably use some companionship! But then again, maybe this is something that is absolutely a standard Mom thing and I need to get on board?!

(All the while during my internal struggle with accepting a perfectly friendly invitation and having to make conversation with a total stranger, David is there for me. Laughing. In a mocking way. What a stinkin' turkey.)

Maybe this is how I should be approaching things!

In a moment of weakness...

I must be feeling brave, or just crazy, but here you go. Andria has been very forthcoming with her preggo pics but I just can't manage to stomach it (get it?!).

This cracks my head open!

Scrub-A-Dub-Dub

Scrub a dub dub, a sheep in a tub? Not exactly in a tub, but there were sheep were getting washed Friday evening, nonetheless! Being friendly with the sheep barn manager allows for all kinds of educational and fun activities for a 3 year old girl (remember feeding little lambs?)!

The barn guys are taking a few ewes down to the state fair and needed to get them squeaky clean before their big debut. Ella couldn't resist the opportunity to get dirty and bury her hands in all of that wool! The ewe seemed to like her little massage to boot!

Ta Ta Nation

Check out the new Tough Enough to Wear Pink shirts! I think the slogan is great! If you do too, or just want to support breast cancer research, let me know and I will order you a shirt ($10). I think I'm going to have to get two, one to wear on the day of the event and then one that will fit me once I deflate!

Chore Time

Maybe it's time for David to empty the manure bucket? Good grief!

Do you suppose these are 'special' mushrooms?!

Tatt Envy

I indulged in a guilty pleasure the other night and watched LA Ink. One of the artists did this tattoo that I just loved.

I'm not into tattoos for myself but I would love to have this design on a shirt or something!


Kick ass!

Bookworms: Endangered Species?

A recent poll by the Associated Press revealed that 1 in 4 Americans read no books last year. None.

Read the whole msn.com article here.

Can this be right? If it is, what the hell are we all coming to?!

I think this year I will hit the 10+ mark. (What with all of the Harry Potter rereading and such.) David will probably surpass me by at least 5 books to hit the 15+ mark! I just can't believe that one quarter of Americans haven't read a single book in a year! I think I agree with the article that the internet and TV are partially to blame for distracting those with a little free time. But then again, it's the people themselves who aren't cruising Amazon.com, or for goodness sakes the damn library!, looking for a book of interest. COME ON!

Please have mercy on me and tell me that you have read a book. Any book. Trashy bodice ripping romance novel? Great! (The trashier the better, in my opinion!) Dark mystery full of twists and turns? Perfect. Or perhaps a how to? Kids fictional boy wizard? Self improvement? The Bible?

Throw me a bone!

E says...

Happy 3 Day Weekend, Y'all!

Steel Magnolias

Who in the hell, in their infinite wisdom, let me watch the end of Steel Magnolias last night?! You should know that I know better than to do that! I have seen the movie umpteen times and I know what's gonna happen. But I just couldn't resist flipping to it when I saw that there was 45 minutes left. Aaaagghh!

I even thought to myself "Boy, I hope it's past the spaghetti scene, because that always makes me cry" and guess what? It was about 3 minutes before the spaghetti scene and I watched the whole damn thing anyway. I cried* and cried and then cried some more for the next 42 minutes! My only break was the commercials but even they weren't long enough to ebb the flow. Why couldn't I just push the button on the remote and go look for happier programs?! I just sat there thinking 'What if that were me and I was faced with losing one of my girls?' and commenced crying even harder. Somebody. Make. It. Stop.

*When I say cried, I don't mean quiet weeping. I mean almost full out sobs. Steel Magnolias plus raging torrents of pregnancy hormones shouldn't be combined!

One great line from the last few minutes: Clairee to Ouiser "I love you more than my luggage."

Birthday Wishes

Today is my mom's birthday! Yea!

Happy Birthday to you, Mom!

Circular

Ella Grace: "Ha ha ha! That cracks my head open!"

Me: "Baby, it's 'that cracks me up'."

Ella Grace: "That cracks my head up!"

Me: "Sweetie, 'that cracks me up'."

Ella Grace: "Mama! I mean 'that cracks my head open'!"

Me: "I give up."

Man in the Moon

Last night the moon was so surreal looking as it came up. (It wasn't near as dark as the photo looks.) I guess it's related to the eclipse that happened early early yesterday morning?