call it nesting if you want

Baby's room update! It took me all afternoon to sew the velcro on those animal butts, but it was worth it. Incidentally I found out that these cool little animals, called Dream Pets, that I bought on clearance are more than they appear be, they've got a history. Plus, please note the Danish Jonah and the whale mobile, thanks Sister Celtic again, it looks awesome.The great Thayer bassinet can be seen in the lefthand corner. 

Baby's eye view. 

the hits just keep comin'

Did I mention I have pregnancy carpal tunnel?! Yeah, I do.
At this point, if I woke up tomorrow and my legs didn't work I wouldn't be surprised.

Insomnia Blotter

I woke up at 2:30 a.m. and couldn't go back to bed so I came out to watch TV, hoping I could bore myself back to sleep.
It's now 4:30, and everyone in the house including the noctural housecat is sleeping but me. I just heard Mojito dream-bark.

Here are some points of interest of my morning:

A rerun of Conan O'Brien featured Donald Trump as a guest, but I found that I would rather watch commercials on my "flip channel" instead of his interview because he creeps me out. It's the same "run away" feeling I get when I encounter salesmen.
Also on the show, the Bravery. The frontman needed some tea or something, because his voice couldn't hold up, that's gotta be embarrassing.

On COPS a woman in Fort Worth flagged a squad car down to tell him that another woman owed her 20 bucks. Upon further questioning, woman A freely admits that she was trying to buy crack cocaine but was given plaster instead by woman B. Middle of the day, in a residential neighborhood. Crack addicts, gotta love 'em.

The aforementioned cat of ours, who I've been at odds with because she has decided to scratch up the carpet when I lock her out of our room at night, apparently just wants to be near somebody in the wee hours. When I came out, she followed me and laid down next to me. Now I feel a little bad for locking her out, but I'm still gonna do it. No pets in the bed!

A frequent flyer and darling of Celebrity Poker, Mimi Rogers has something about her that makes me want to change the channel. What is it? It's different than the Donald. Whatever it is, I deem her freaky.

I'm gonna give bed another try...

well enough for an outing

My cold has nestled its way into my chest, which means it's on it's way out. That is to say, I'm feeling better than yesterday. (hooray!)
So we went to Babies R Us. ---B-bum!
I had never been to a baby store before in my life, much less the baby store of all baby stores. I hadn't ever planned on going into one, but I had gift cards burnin' a hole in my pocket.
I expected it to be hellish. It wasn't too bad. I enjoyed the alternative rock music they played, it made me feel better about buying nipples and plastic pants. We also spotted one cool dad in there with his little girl in red hightop converse and another punky mother to be, yay for peers!
I had two gift cards and a few returns, so we had some dough to work with. Please know that I really hate returning gifts, I feel so bad, but this lady who knew me from work obviously spent good money buying some stuff and I knew I wouldn't use it, so I took it back.
I won't do Pooh, I won't.

woe

I'm even sicker today (cough, sniffle, slack-jaw).
I thought I'd share that.
Everyone who's prays, pray that I don't go into labor before I get over this. Please!

Doozers, now available over-the-counter

This morning I woke up with a head cold. Boo!
As I was sitting here creating a little matterhorn of used tissues, I thought "if only I had a little army to send into my sinuses and clear up everything-- like the Doozers!
That's today's mental picture: doozers in my head. 

who puts up the money for movies like this?

Kevin likes Starship Troopers. He admits it's not "thinking movie" but he likes it anyway.
Fair enough. It's a dumb movie but I've seen worse.
Then he tells me he recorded Starship Troopers 2 and he expects it to be bad.
Okay.
So why did I suggest we both watch it?
Such a horrible movie. I haven't really been watching it since the first 10 minutes of giant spider battles, I'm just in the same room listening to the smushing sounds, screams and melodramatic dialog.
I've learned my lesson.

I'm here I'm here

Nope, not birthing, I'm still quite "great with child."
So great in fact that I did have the wedding ring cut off my finger on Wednesday by my friendly neighborhood jeweler. He was very sad for me, it wasn't pretty under there, teetering on gangrene. The finger is healing nicely and I have a fake ring, many sizes larger than the former, all ready to go on it until after my body returns to normal.
I've been enjoying my first week as a haus-frau, stenciling the walls and sorting through all of our crap.
Everyone has been so nice and buying baby supplies for us. I'm really floored at how many people have given us stuff, new stuff. I had to buy three packs of thank you cards! The only things I have left to buy (with my gift cards!) are diaper covers, bottles, and maybe a couple of crib sheets.
(I'm still planning on hitting a couple Goodwill's though, I feel the urge to hunt!)

"good design does not come easy"

That's what I keep telling myself, because that's what I was taught in school. So stencil square by stencil square, I'm painting this pattern on our bedroom wall. I've only done this patch of wall so far, and I have 3 more walls to go. Needless to say, this is my week's project.  

ow.

My fingers have been swelling for some time now. A few months really, but now towards the bitter end of the pregnancy, my wedding-ring-finger has swollen so much that I've been getting blisters. So I thought it was time to get it off. Bad idea!!! Although the photo does not show the purple discoloration, my finger is much worse for wear after Kevin and I tried to get it off. I thought I was going to pass out it hurt so bad. We tried ice and soap and nothing helped. I talked to some women this afternoon and they both said they had to have their wedding rings cut off when they were pregnant. I really don't want to, symbolically and all it seems wrong, to *saw it off,* but it really hurts. ouchie. 

Lifetime: television for cocaine dealers?

I think I could count on one hand the number of times I have watched a show on Lifetime, despite that by definition I should like it, because biologically I am a woman, but I'm not *that* kind of "woman." I think BET might hold my attention longer.
But today I was cruising the cable menu and saw that True Romance was on. I clicked it and was enjoying the edited for TV version, when the commerical break came on-- commercials for skin care, made for TV movies about women-who-the-world-doesn't-understand, etc. "Oh my gosh, I'm watching Lifetime! What is this Tarantino film doing on Lifetime?" I think they must have added it to their programming schedule by title alone, because while I think it is the most mild film that director has ever made, it certainly isn't Not Without My Daughter or Bridges of Madison County. I'm sure the program director will be fired immediately on a sensible floral letterhead.

prego update

For all of you who like to know the latest, I've a had a few contractions yesterday and today, but nothing regular. I'm pretty sure they mean nothing, so nobody should freak out, but I thought I'd pass that along.
Over and out.

Fabulous!

I felt the average baby lounger needed some fabulizing. Yep, that's faux chinese print silk. Let's just say it began looking something like this ($2 from a garage sale) 

It would be like giving birth to an orange

In case you hadn't heard, there's a new panda cub at the National Zoo. When I saw it on the news I couldn't help but think the newborn /adult ratio was unfair.  

Good bye desk-girl-job, it's been fun.

Tomorrow begins my last week at work! Woo woo! And by "week" I mean, 3 days, and by "work" I mean supervising the new girl and watchin' the clock. 

why don't ya' just call me Elsie?

When I'm offered this kind of selection, I think "are they trying to tell me I am now old and frumpy?" I've looked, and in this department these puppies only come in matronly white mega support. I'm 24, not 64, and I don't need more hooks in the back than a victorian ladies boot.
With a scrunched up face of determination I tell you I'm gonna fight it, you can't make me wear one, I won't do it.
I won't.

it can't be un-done!

My nightmare came true, Kevin's extended family saw our house-- filthy!
Let's begin with the contents of our house being all scrambled around like the dice in a Yahtzee game because of the construction. Big strike one.
But then it's also messy too, like the kitchen had dishes everywhere from cooking chicken fried steak at 10pm last night and I had to get up really early to volunteer for church this a.m. so no messiness was cleaned up, in fact I added to it, dirty clothes in a wad on the bathroom floor, quasi clean clothes tossed over my mountain of shoe-crates. Bottom line- our house looked like a drug den you might see raided on COPS. All it's missing is a balding guy in a greasy wife beater trying to squeeze his fat gut through a back window.
And they saw it, they saw it all!
(They were down the street at his parents' house for the family baby shower and asked to see the place. I made Kevin show it, I couldn't do it!)

and while we're on the subject

This is the opposite of that other story.  

not like I'm gonna forgo a seatbelt

But how many times have we heard stories like this one? (which happened last night here in San Jose):

"The victims were driving south in a 1992 BMW at 80 to 90 mph when their car veered to the left and hit the guardrail, and one passenger was ejected, said a California Highway Patrol spokesman. The car then erupted in flames as it came to rest in the middle of the freeway after wrecking 50 to 60 feet of guardrail. ``The car was just torn up,'' CHP spokesman Steve Perea said.
A passing motorist stopped and pulled the driver and one passenger to safety, but was unable to remove the other man from the burning car.
That man, identified as 19-year-old Eric Tuggle of Santa Clara, was pronounced dead at the scene....
The passenger pulled from the car, identified by the CHP as 18-year-old Vuong Hoan Vu of San Jose, suffered major burns and died later at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center, a hospital spokeswoman said....
The passenger ejected from the car, identified as Matthew Krieger, 18, of San Jose, was taken to Regional Medical Center, where he was listed in good condition Friday afternoon."

I want to trust the seatbelt. If only they came with sensors for "firey death crash" and would unclick to send people "safely" through the windsheild.

could I be a slinger?

The baby sling has always made me nervous. I'm the kind to turn my wrist to look at my watch with a full glass in my hand and dump it on myself, so I fear that I'm the kind of person that could bend over and let a baby tumble out of a sling.
But this page makes me want to try it.
Until I decide, it'll be the baby-pack.

I just might do it, don't think I won't.

As soon as I get a grip after the baby is born I plan to start a local Punkymoms group. I was sad to learn that the closest punkymoms group is in Los Angeles so I must start one here, it's only fitting. Plus, Aurora is worried I'm gonna lose my ever-lovin' mind staying at home everyday. She's probably right, and I'm gonna be proactive about it...in a couple of months.

soon to be a granny

Happy Birthday to my mom! (okay it was tuesday, but I just got the photo.)
Thanks for the slim fit genes and stopping me from joining the Girl Scouts, I owe ya' one! 

lead-er lead-er lead-er lead-er

Again, I'm watching another gripping Dr. Phil.
This article explains the subject, although it's badly written.

attack of the...

Kevin has a tomato problem, he's a Tomatoholic. This is less than half of the harvest from the back yard.  

I found this on our camera, I guess Kevin took it. Franklin, you handsome devil! 

Happy Anniversary!

Sunday was our one year anniversary, hooray! The cake top was actually good! Mmm, powder blue fondant-- tastes like steamrolled Peeps. 

Toto, not just a dog, not just a band

It's also a brand of toilet. Coincidentally, it's the brand we bought today for our new bathroom, here. Glorious.
I made Kevin sit on it in the store to try it out, well at least while the salesman was looking at us. But I admit that before the guy came over, I sat on a few toities (with the lid closed, somehow that felt more civilized.)

here, sit down on the couch, it's picture time

Daniel asked to see more of my paintings a while back. Here's my latest work. Kevin comissioned it, so it was his birthday gift. 

It's the middle of summer in California, but from this photo you'd think we were on the shore of Lake Baikal in January. Can you see the sun? It's a sliver on the horizon. 

We were at the beach because our church was having a beach barbeque. I like to stay on the perimeter of group functions, if you couldn't tell from the photo. 

What's wrong with this cat? 

Oh. 

I always say "you can't trust a well dressed man"

I watch "Ambush Makeover," I do, it makes me all the dumber for it, but I keep watching. What I have learned is that there are way more male make-up artists out in the world than I ever imagined.
I have a problem with this. I would feel like a failure as a woman if a man could do my makeup better than I can. A man can decorate my house, teach me how to dance, even dress me, but in my mind only a woman should do my make-up.

I usually try to avoid geriatric products

But I really want this handle thing.
My civic is so low, and I'm so front heavy, it's a bad combo and I narrowly avoid tumbling onto the driveway on a daily basis.
(why's it gotta be 35 bucks?)

mini post

During the Bradley classes, we were shown a big color anatomical chart of how a normal woman's internal organs are arranged, all happily working together, doing their own special jobs to make said woman function. And then on the other side of the chart we saw where all those organs go when the baby moves in. Organs are pushed every which way in the the same way dirty laundry is stuffed in a closet when guests arrive unannounced.
I am that closet, and my guest is staying another month.

(Oh and I can't let it go, my feet seem to belong to someone else.)