For some reason, we apparently have a bug fetish in our house (which is pretty odd considering I despise insects). When we found out we were pregnant this time, DH and I started dreaming about STUFF again. Surprisingly we were drawn to all the ladybug bedding. We looked at boy stuff but every time either of us came across a ladybug pattern we immediately became all soft and gooey. (and we had always planned to do a girl’s nursery in fairies!)
After our sonogram that found the sac in the right place, my mother (who knew nothing of our ladybug fetish) said the sonogram looked like a ladybug. So I started with the nickname Ladybug (even though I feel bad if it turns out to be a boy sticking him with a ladybug nickname in the womb. LOL). DH’s Dad called after seeing the sonogram and said it looked like a Hurricane…which it does.
Thus HLB (Hurricane Ladybug) came into existence. I consider it kind of fitting that DH and I are taking a short vacation (if you can call visiting the in-laws a vacation) to the coast with two hurricanes coming in this weekend! It’s been well over a year and a half since we have been anywhere. Of COURSE, hurricanes have to threaten the coast EXACTLY where we are headed. Fortunately, the first one should hit Thursday night/Friday morning if it comes ashore at all and we won’t be down there till Friday evening. The second one is not predicted to be very strong but may come in Sunday night/Monday. Due to our high pressure systems, they are predicting they will hook out into the ocean like Hurricane Danielle did but Earl (what a redneck hurricane name) may graze us.
We are keeping an eye on them. We would never put our baby in harms way even if we are both accustomed to hurricanes having been through a few ourselves. I just find it completely ironic that we are heading into them with another little hurricane in tow!
I am planning to do very little except sofa surf. DH has several home repair projects to complete for his parents but I’m taking a good book, a bathing suit and my cuddly dogs. I plan on sitting on the beach, visiting my nephews and seeing my SIL’s new house. That’s about it.
What are your plans for the upcoming Labor Day weekend (or regular weekend for you Canadians!)?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Menu Monday
I was a complete slackass this week. Let's just get that out of the way. I officially have carrots, butternut squash and spaghetti squash rotting in boxes in my kitchen floor because I was too tired to get to any of this week. I didn't swim, I didn't even pick my own garden. This weekend was insane: birthday parties, bridal showers, girl's luncheon and the list goes on. This coming week? yea, its pretty busy too, to the point, I'm eating out of the freezer just to avoid taking the time to go to the store.
This week:
Beef tips and gravy over biscuits with a side of broccoli and cheese (don't fool yourself, its straight up SCHWANN's all the way. I'm only making the biscuits).
Chicken Enchiladas (again Schwann's)
Baked Spaghetti (okay, this one is me)
Chicken salad sammies.
This week:
Beef tips and gravy over biscuits with a side of broccoli and cheese (don't fool yourself, its straight up SCHWANN's all the way. I'm only making the biscuits).
Chicken Enchiladas (again Schwann's)
Baked Spaghetti (okay, this one is me)
Chicken salad sammies.
Whiney Poor Pitiful Me Monday
I’m hoping it’s just the Monday blues but I’m back to being a doubting Debbie. I woke up this morning with full intention of having a good day. I dressed the part, took time to curl my hair and ran out the door only a few minutes behind schedule. Then nothing.
My car wouldn’t start. No clicking, no groaning, nothing. Silence. Completely dead. So I saw one neighbor’s car still there, and I trotted across the just cut dewey grass to knock on their door. They didn’t answer. Their dog didn’t even bark so I have no idea where they were. I do know, I was now, not getting to work, my sandals and feet were caked in wet cut grass, my pants were wet and I had ripped my hem.
I finally got hold of my husband who graciously said I’ll be home in 10 to jump it, so there I sat dejected on the front porch steps waiting while the humidity made my hair frizz and sweat started rolling down my face. TWENTY-FIVE minutes later he rolled in. He was loading his work truck for the day to go out on a job site and so he finished and just drove the work truck by the house on his way so it wouldn’t delay him any. I can’t blame him for that, I would have done the same thing in his situation.
My car fired right up as soon as he connected them. So off I went to Auto Zone for a new battery. I wasn’t even that upset with my car. It’s a good car. That battery has lasted for 8 years and the car had warned me on occasion with the battery light showing that it was getting time to get a new one. Seriously, 8 years and 85,000 miles later, I need a new battery. Big whoop. It was just inconvenient to have to do it first thing on a Monday morning and be an hour late to work!
I did make it though. Wet grassy shoes, ripped hem, frizzy hair and all. Whew. Maybe the worst of today is over. Well, no. Then I get to check my bank account and realize thanks to a $100.00 battery that was not planned into the budget, a labor day weekend trip and eating out twice because of a hectic schedule that was not planned either, we are going to be short this pay period and have to dip slightly into savings rather than contributing to it.
Okay. So now I’m at work, with an achy upset stomach, my pants are not only ripped and wet but they are falling off my butt because my bloat went away. I’m feeling very discouraged and NOT pregnant. That fear is creeping in and its two weeks till my next appt. This week marks the week (in the timeline) that I found out we had miscarried. I never made it past this mark. So even though my baby had a heartbeat measuring past when we lost the other one, this is still a milestone for us. I won’t even know if we made it past the milestone for two more weeks!
My mom told me to call the Dr. but what am I supposed to say? “I know you are busy and trying to fit everything in before labor day but I would really like a sonogram because I don’t feel pregnant?...No I’ve had no pain, or bleeding but my cat’s not being as snuggly over the weekend and my m/s is practically non existent now.” Yea, that will go over well, I’m sure. I still have heartburn and gas. I’m still pretty exhausted though I’m getting bursts of energy where I clean like crazy. (During one of those yesterday, I did four loads of laundry, two loads of dishes, cooked dinner, vacuumed and cleaned the kitchen.) I’m just back to “not feeling it.” I know, if it weren’t for morning sickness, I probably wouldn’t even know I was at this stage of the game. I’m thankful I haven’t gained weight (okay, two pounds) and the bloat is gone so my pants are back to falling off but I wish I could find some sign of pregnancy that would reassure me on days like today. Is that too much to ask for?
My car wouldn’t start. No clicking, no groaning, nothing. Silence. Completely dead. So I saw one neighbor’s car still there, and I trotted across the just cut dewey grass to knock on their door. They didn’t answer. Their dog didn’t even bark so I have no idea where they were. I do know, I was now, not getting to work, my sandals and feet were caked in wet cut grass, my pants were wet and I had ripped my hem.
I finally got hold of my husband who graciously said I’ll be home in 10 to jump it, so there I sat dejected on the front porch steps waiting while the humidity made my hair frizz and sweat started rolling down my face. TWENTY-FIVE minutes later he rolled in. He was loading his work truck for the day to go out on a job site and so he finished and just drove the work truck by the house on his way so it wouldn’t delay him any. I can’t blame him for that, I would have done the same thing in his situation.
My car fired right up as soon as he connected them. So off I went to Auto Zone for a new battery. I wasn’t even that upset with my car. It’s a good car. That battery has lasted for 8 years and the car had warned me on occasion with the battery light showing that it was getting time to get a new one. Seriously, 8 years and 85,000 miles later, I need a new battery. Big whoop. It was just inconvenient to have to do it first thing on a Monday morning and be an hour late to work!
I did make it though. Wet grassy shoes, ripped hem, frizzy hair and all. Whew. Maybe the worst of today is over. Well, no. Then I get to check my bank account and realize thanks to a $100.00 battery that was not planned into the budget, a labor day weekend trip and eating out twice because of a hectic schedule that was not planned either, we are going to be short this pay period and have to dip slightly into savings rather than contributing to it.
Okay. So now I’m at work, with an achy upset stomach, my pants are not only ripped and wet but they are falling off my butt because my bloat went away. I’m feeling very discouraged and NOT pregnant. That fear is creeping in and its two weeks till my next appt. This week marks the week (in the timeline) that I found out we had miscarried. I never made it past this mark. So even though my baby had a heartbeat measuring past when we lost the other one, this is still a milestone for us. I won’t even know if we made it past the milestone for two more weeks!
My mom told me to call the Dr. but what am I supposed to say? “I know you are busy and trying to fit everything in before labor day but I would really like a sonogram because I don’t feel pregnant?...No I’ve had no pain, or bleeding but my cat’s not being as snuggly over the weekend and my m/s is practically non existent now.” Yea, that will go over well, I’m sure. I still have heartburn and gas. I’m still pretty exhausted though I’m getting bursts of energy where I clean like crazy. (During one of those yesterday, I did four loads of laundry, two loads of dishes, cooked dinner, vacuumed and cleaned the kitchen.) I’m just back to “not feeling it.” I know, if it weren’t for morning sickness, I probably wouldn’t even know I was at this stage of the game. I’m thankful I haven’t gained weight (okay, two pounds) and the bloat is gone so my pants are back to falling off but I wish I could find some sign of pregnancy that would reassure me on days like today. Is that too much to ask for?
Friday, August 27, 2010
Solving the National Gas Shortage Crisis
America will not have a gas shortage in the next 7 months. How do I know this? Because I can guarantee my body can make up any differences in the gas department. The heartburn may be easing a tad bit, but the gas has bloomed in full force.
I lay awake most of the night last night with my stomach doing somersaults and passing some of the longest winded, loudly obnoxious gas of my life. I think the only thing that comes remotely close is the time DH ran me out of the bedroom after eating 6 bowls of chili. At one point, I scared the cat off the bed and woke DH up with it. I’m so glad after 6 years of being together we have moved beyond the point where I run into another room if I have to poot or burp.
It is insane ya’ll. I have to admit too, after yesterday, when my body flushed every bit of fluid out the exit (I lost two pounds in less than four hours yo), I feared sharting. I can’t believe I’m even saying that because proper Southern women don’t speak of such things, but let’s be real here. When you experience fluid release on short notice with a grumbling of stomach, the fear of pooting liquid becomes a very real and tangible thing. So half the night I was running to the bathroom to release gas into the toilet, just in case.
Needless to say, it was a very restless night. At one point, I contemplated getting up and cleaning the house but I was torn between being noisy and waking DH up and trying to get any sleep I could even if it meant washing the sheets in the a.m.
Please don’t think I’m complaining. I will gladly take sleepless gas filled nights, heartburn and nausea in exchange for a healthy baby. I am however, fascinated at all these changes my body is going through. New symptoms seem to crop up daily. Some I have experienced before and some are just a little bit “more” this time around.
For now though, I’m just happy to know that my baby will never leave me stranded as we can fill the tank with the never-ending supply of gas. I feel sorry for the poor bloke who walks behind me and tries to light a cigarette. It may have an atomic effect on NC.
I lay awake most of the night last night with my stomach doing somersaults and passing some of the longest winded, loudly obnoxious gas of my life. I think the only thing that comes remotely close is the time DH ran me out of the bedroom after eating 6 bowls of chili. At one point, I scared the cat off the bed and woke DH up with it. I’m so glad after 6 years of being together we have moved beyond the point where I run into another room if I have to poot or burp.
It is insane ya’ll. I have to admit too, after yesterday, when my body flushed every bit of fluid out the exit (I lost two pounds in less than four hours yo), I feared sharting. I can’t believe I’m even saying that because proper Southern women don’t speak of such things, but let’s be real here. When you experience fluid release on short notice with a grumbling of stomach, the fear of pooting liquid becomes a very real and tangible thing. So half the night I was running to the bathroom to release gas into the toilet, just in case.
Needless to say, it was a very restless night. At one point, I contemplated getting up and cleaning the house but I was torn between being noisy and waking DH up and trying to get any sleep I could even if it meant washing the sheets in the a.m.
Please don’t think I’m complaining. I will gladly take sleepless gas filled nights, heartburn and nausea in exchange for a healthy baby. I am however, fascinated at all these changes my body is going through. New symptoms seem to crop up daily. Some I have experienced before and some are just a little bit “more” this time around.
For now though, I’m just happy to know that my baby will never leave me stranded as we can fill the tank with the never-ending supply of gas. I feel sorry for the poor bloke who walks behind me and tries to light a cigarette. It may have an atomic effect on NC.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
I fought the spider, and the spider won.
I was terrorized in the bathroom today. Imagine, if you will, sitting there, minding my business, innocently browsing the internet on my phone while my stomach performed acrobatic feats of amazement. When suddenly, under the stall door scuttled the biggest spider I’ve seen in quite some time. As big as my fist (counting legs) and brown with black stripes, he walked in as nonchalantly as you please. I froze. I held my breath. I was trapped on a toilet. He was too far away to stomp with the element of surprise. So I finally braced myself and jerked my foot towards him. He jumped backwards (and man can he jump into the air) but did not leave. He planted himself outside the door like a guard waiting to pounce. I quickly pulled myself together and prepared to make a running sissy girl exit from the bathroom with a scream lodged in the back of my throat. (I do not deal well with spiders, especially ones of gigantic proportions).
When I opened the bathroom door, it startled him enough to go flying into the middle of the room. OMG, I almost passed out at the sight of him moving so fast in that creepy multilegged run. I breathed deeply and kept my back to the wall as I worked my way slowly around the room towards the door. It was like a wild west shootout. There we stood in the blazing flourescent lights and dusty tile waiting to see who would draw first. He did circles in the center waiting to attack but I made it to the door and out with amazing speed. I hiked through the building to the farthest bathroom to finish my business.
On my way back, I headed off one of my co-workers who was headed that way and told her about the ginormous attack spider lurking in the bathroom. Being more level headed than I (as I planned to just avoid that bathroom on a permanent basis) she grabbed one of the big strapping men that are rampant in this joint, to go in and spider hunt. He found him lurking behind the trashcan just inside the door waiting to take a poor innocent female by surprise. Man of the big feet effectively stomped said attack spider and the women’s bathroom is safe once again. I highly doubt I will be spending any time in there soon though as I am effectively CREEPED out!
When I opened the bathroom door, it startled him enough to go flying into the middle of the room. OMG, I almost passed out at the sight of him moving so fast in that creepy multilegged run. I breathed deeply and kept my back to the wall as I worked my way slowly around the room towards the door. It was like a wild west shootout. There we stood in the blazing flourescent lights and dusty tile waiting to see who would draw first. He did circles in the center waiting to attack but I made it to the door and out with amazing speed. I hiked through the building to the farthest bathroom to finish my business.
On my way back, I headed off one of my co-workers who was headed that way and told her about the ginormous attack spider lurking in the bathroom. Being more level headed than I (as I planned to just avoid that bathroom on a permanent basis) she grabbed one of the big strapping men that are rampant in this joint, to go in and spider hunt. He found him lurking behind the trashcan just inside the door waiting to take a poor innocent female by surprise. Man of the big feet effectively stomped said attack spider and the women’s bathroom is safe once again. I highly doubt I will be spending any time in there soon though as I am effectively CREEPED out!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Rover knows best...
Animals know. You know how I know? I know because my animals have lost their ever loving minds.
I have furbabies, even though I know some people cringe at that word, there really is no other way to describe it. You can say my dog is just a dog, but it doesn’t make it true. My female Dachshund, Scarlett, who is prone to shivering in winter and likes to snuggle, has an extensive wardrobe. She will dive into a sweater quicker than you can say “dogs don’t wear clothes.” My girl, Tedda, has personality plus. She’s a half chow, half german shepherd mix who I have babied for the past 13 years. She’s lazy and obnoxiously stubborn and we haven’t decided if she really is going blind and deaf or just using it as an excuse to do what she wants in her old age. My little boy Dachshund, he is a character all on his own, obsessed with stuffed squirrels, we have a rodent problem littering our living room at all times. Cody was a Daddy’s boy from the first moment we got him, while all the other animals are predominantly mamma’s girls.
Then there is THE CAT. She surreptitiously rules the house, lording it over the dogs that she can come and go while they are barred from entering the bedroom area by that pesky iron baby gate. She perches high on our bed and stretches and yawns as they glare at her through the bars while I get dressed in the morning. She sneaks under sofas and reaches out and swats them as they pass by. She knows she is queen. She has at least five pounds on poor little Scarlett who is determined no cat is going to get the best of her. Truffles has been THE CAT and Queen for 7 years. I think she still holds resentment that I not only brought a man into our bed, but two more dogs. She rubs up against Tedda and glares at me like “see, THIS DOG and I are family. Those two munchkin rats do not belong.”
So how did they lose their minds? Every single one of them have become obsessed with me to the point I can hardly function. If I’m in the kitchen, so are they. Tedda lies in the middle of the floor watching me with deep sighs and huffs. The two little dogs move under my feet every time I do. The cat becomes a statue in the barstool watching me with those unblinking eyes. If I’m on the sofa? So are they. Tedda lays in the floor (as she’s never been one to climb on the furniture which would require hefting her old 65lb self up which is way too much energy for her to expend), Cody curls up behind my legs, Scarlett takes roost up against my stomach or back, and the Cat tries to balance on my hip while glaring at the dogs.
At night, the dogs have taken to whining in their crates because they can’t be with me. The cat tries to sleep on my stomach and if I throw her off enough times she settles with wrapping herself around my head and whacking me in the face with her plumed tail. And occasionally if DH tries to cuddle she attacks him or at minimum tries to butt her head up under his hand to move it or divert his attention.
My animals have always been loving, but now they are just suffocating me. They are ignoring DH, and shoved so far up my ass they can probably keep visual tabs on the baby. I distinctly remember Cody and the Cat acting different last time. We had actually suspected I was pregnant this time from some of the animals’ actions before we got the BFP (but were still shocked because of all the cyst issues we were dealing with). So you can be a naysayer about the intuitive nature of animals all you want, but I KNOW that my ANIMALS know. Maybe they are just smarter than yours, but they know. ::shrugs::
I have furbabies, even though I know some people cringe at that word, there really is no other way to describe it. You can say my dog is just a dog, but it doesn’t make it true. My female Dachshund, Scarlett, who is prone to shivering in winter and likes to snuggle, has an extensive wardrobe. She will dive into a sweater quicker than you can say “dogs don’t wear clothes.” My girl, Tedda, has personality plus. She’s a half chow, half german shepherd mix who I have babied for the past 13 years. She’s lazy and obnoxiously stubborn and we haven’t decided if she really is going blind and deaf or just using it as an excuse to do what she wants in her old age. My little boy Dachshund, he is a character all on his own, obsessed with stuffed squirrels, we have a rodent problem littering our living room at all times. Cody was a Daddy’s boy from the first moment we got him, while all the other animals are predominantly mamma’s girls.
Then there is THE CAT. She surreptitiously rules the house, lording it over the dogs that she can come and go while they are barred from entering the bedroom area by that pesky iron baby gate. She perches high on our bed and stretches and yawns as they glare at her through the bars while I get dressed in the morning. She sneaks under sofas and reaches out and swats them as they pass by. She knows she is queen. She has at least five pounds on poor little Scarlett who is determined no cat is going to get the best of her. Truffles has been THE CAT and Queen for 7 years. I think she still holds resentment that I not only brought a man into our bed, but two more dogs. She rubs up against Tedda and glares at me like “see, THIS DOG and I are family. Those two munchkin rats do not belong.”
So how did they lose their minds? Every single one of them have become obsessed with me to the point I can hardly function. If I’m in the kitchen, so are they. Tedda lies in the middle of the floor watching me with deep sighs and huffs. The two little dogs move under my feet every time I do. The cat becomes a statue in the barstool watching me with those unblinking eyes. If I’m on the sofa? So are they. Tedda lays in the floor (as she’s never been one to climb on the furniture which would require hefting her old 65lb self up which is way too much energy for her to expend), Cody curls up behind my legs, Scarlett takes roost up against my stomach or back, and the Cat tries to balance on my hip while glaring at the dogs.
At night, the dogs have taken to whining in their crates because they can’t be with me. The cat tries to sleep on my stomach and if I throw her off enough times she settles with wrapping herself around my head and whacking me in the face with her plumed tail. And occasionally if DH tries to cuddle she attacks him or at minimum tries to butt her head up under his hand to move it or divert his attention.
My animals have always been loving, but now they are just suffocating me. They are ignoring DH, and shoved so far up my ass they can probably keep visual tabs on the baby. I distinctly remember Cody and the Cat acting different last time. We had actually suspected I was pregnant this time from some of the animals’ actions before we got the BFP (but were still shocked because of all the cyst issues we were dealing with). So you can be a naysayer about the intuitive nature of animals all you want, but I KNOW that my ANIMALS know. Maybe they are just smarter than yours, but they know. ::shrugs::
Monday, August 23, 2010
I know. I'm MIA. I'm really not. I spent most of last week canning 21 quarts of tomatoes and stringing a gallon of green beans. We decided against putting in a fall garden due to personal reasons, so I'm just finishing up with whats planted and what my parents have given me. I'm starting to get it under control and hoping to be able to make some apple butter and pear preserves soon.
As far as cooking goes, I'm still in a rut. I'm fixing quick and tried and true favorites so there really is nothing to post. Fall is coming though. My favorite time of year for the food blog as I start to bake again and prepare for holiday dishes etc.
Up this week:
Goulash
Hamburgers
Baked chicken and Greenbean casserole
Biscuits, hashbrowns and eggs
Sweet potatoes with cinnamon and sugar
Sandwiches
As far as cooking goes, I'm still in a rut. I'm fixing quick and tried and true favorites so there really is nothing to post. Fall is coming though. My favorite time of year for the food blog as I start to bake again and prepare for holiday dishes etc.
Up this week:
Goulash
Hamburgers
Baked chicken and Greenbean casserole
Biscuits, hashbrowns and eggs
Sweet potatoes with cinnamon and sugar
Sandwiches
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