A seven nation army couldn't hold me back

I want to throw up on your face right now.

Please don't take it personally, it's just the state of normalcy around here. I feel like shit. Then I nap, and 80% of the time I don't feel like shit for at least 3 hours following said nap. Then it starts all over again.

So this past Friday was a beautiful day here in Fort Worth: sunny, hot, not too many clouds in the sky, a little wind. I was running errands near the base and I saw this line of smoke coming from a plane that... oh my gosh... was heading straight for the ground. Like, no control nose down vertical falling to the ground. But nothing happened, and I didn't see the plane anymore. I went into the craft store and saw a huge poster for a free airshow on Saturday at the base. Duh! They were just practicing!!! So I call the husband and he's been watching them practice all day and we talk about going, but I have more errands to run and the discussion is tabled until he gets home. I took Joey to get his hair cut and while we're waiting in the reception area I hear this BOOM-whoosh! sound and then this weird feeling like everything in the salon (including the windows) bowed inward and then returned to normal. Turns out they were flying the F-18 and getting it to the fine line right before breaking the sound barrier and they must have pushed a little too hard because what I heard and felt was a sonic boom.

So we're all set to go see the airshow and then overnight... the rain came. And didn't leave. So we're constantly checking the website and we go get Joey a raincoat (but not rainboots because we obviously weren't taking into consideration that when rain falls it makes puddles and will soak right through Converse and socks) and an umbrella and headed out to the base. We got to look in a bunch of planes, and put Joey in a few. It was pretty cool. We got to go in the plane that the husband works on for the Air Force, the kind he rides all over the world in. Let me just tell you - it's not even remotely comfortable looking. There's wires and stuff all over the ceiling and walls, the seats fold down from the perimeter, and then all the gear goes in the middle. And it's so loud, he says, you have to wear ear protection when you ride it. I can't even imagine.... Then again, I go green even driving into an airport. If I have to fly somewhere I have white knuckles the entire time (they went numb when I flew non-stop to New York) and I'm grey when I get off the plane. So not only am I proud of my husband's service, I think he should get a gold star sticker for surviving those flight conditions.

Anyway, we were really unsure if we were going to see airplanes fly that day, but the sky cleared up a little and we got a totally super awesome rad show. The Doctor lent Joey her ear protector headphones (I don't really know why she had them in the first place) so when the F-16 and F-18 started flying Joey looked super cool. There were stunt flyers, a biplane, a B-52 flew over (8 engines!) - it was really cool. Joey even kind of paid attention, too. The F-18 did that thing like the day before, and right before a sonic boom the entire plane gets enveloped in this weird bubble thing. It was so cool.

So towards the end of the show Joey has to go to the bathroom. All they had was... porta-potties. Thankfully the husband took him in one hand and hand sanitizer in the other. Ugh. So they're gone for a little while and when they come back Joey has a gigantic hot dog in his hand, holding his daddy's hand and hopping along looking like the happiest kid in the world. It was enough to almost move me to tears. Turns out the hot dog stand was closing and had six hot dogs left so they gave one to Joey. It wasn't even a hot dog, really. It was a whole sausage link on a huge bun. He was so happy with it, though. So the show ended and we were walking back to the car and he's just chowing down. He finished it and was talking to us about the planes and then he stopped and held out his hands and looked around and said "Hey! Where's my food?!" In all seriousness, he had forgotten that he already finished it and thought we had heinously taken it from him. The husband said "You finished it, buddy. You ate the whole thing." And Joey almost fell apart. Poor kid, we were laughing so hard and all he wanted was his hot dog back.

It's been a long time since the party and the room is in a mess

I tried. I tried so hard. I even set my alarm last night. For 7 am. I was going to hop out of bed, put on my gym clothes, make some breakfast and head out to the gym.

At 8:30 I had already hit the snooze button so many times, and when the alarm went off the last time Joey was in the room and yelled "That really hurts my ears! Get up!" So I told him to leave the room so I could get dressed and to go get himself dressed. He won and stood at the bottom of the stairs for 10 minutes yelling "Are you dressed yet?" every couple of seconds. It wasn't my fault - I couldn't find the gym pants I like. I have 3 pairs of them, and it turns out every single one of them was in the dirty laundry. So I put on my B Team workout clothes and was absolutely displeased with the image looking back at me in the mirror (read: I looked like a fatass in the pants). I could in no way rally myself to want to go out in public looking like that, so I decided to stay home and do the laundry. Sure... that counts as a workout.

So I'm totally involved yesterday's "Oprah" while waiting for a load to finish drying when I realize I have lost my son. It's not a big house, and I hear some rustling in the bathroom so I figure he's doing his business in there. 10 or so minutes later I realize I have lost my son again and still hear rustling in the bathroom so I ask him what he's doing in there. "Well... I'm just coloring." Coloring? Really? Oh....

See, the husband and I bought Joey some soap crayons for his Easter basket this year and he absolutely loves them. He asked me earlier today if he could play with them, and I told him those are for only when he's in the bathtub.

So I walk into his bathroom and I'm about to get angry. He got the colors and colored all over one of the walls of his shower. But then I stopped. He was in the bathtub, after all.

Meet me in the crowd

So I went to the doctor's office yesterday and apparently I have super-human powers of knowing when I'm pregnant (this time, anyway). Apparently I am 4.6 weeks, and I had known for 2 and a half weeks. The math doesn't lie, people - I'm a mutant. My other mutant power is randomly knowing what time it is. It really freaks the husband out.

While I was filling out my new patient paperwork in the reception lobby at the doctor's office this HUGE lady came in with this pod-child zombie boy. That means he was connected to an ipod or some other thing like it, with his head buried in it responding to the nudges of his mother (?) as directions of where to go. This lady was on her phone talking so loud about somebody trying to get someone else's parental rights terminated and why. I was really relieved that I hadn't missed my daily quota of trash tv, except this time it wasn't on tv. Then the pod-child zombie boy started singing along with whatever thing he was plugged into, and kicking the chair to the beat. Unfortunately he and I were sitting back to back and as a result I wanted to throttle him.

And now for your robot room update:

We have a finalized quilt pattern! And I have been persuaded to join a quilt group to help me through what is sure to be a trying process. Next week (should I make it) we will be calculating how much fabric I will need for the whole thing.  Very exciting, I know. I need to work on my mother's Mother's Day present, as I will be seeing her in about a week and a half.

Hey - what the hell is the deal with taking pictures of yourself? I have to just touch on this for a second because it makes no freaking sense to me, and kind of angers me - which means I have to tell a story to make you understand why it angers me. So the husband's friends came over for his birthday this year and I was like, ugh... okay. Their insular-ness is more than aggravating and genuinely distasteful. Really puts me off and I don't really like the time I spend with them but I give at least 80% for the husband's sake. Anyway, we ran out of beer at said party so I went to Wal-Mart to grab some more. When I came back and was looking through my camera for photos to delete so I could take more without uploading to the computer first, I saw a bunch of pictures taken by the subject and the subject's friends. On my camera. So now I have photos of people I don't really like taking up a ton of my camera space. So of course these people happen to be on facebook and such and there's like a million of these type of photos of themselves! I can't help but laugh about it (at them, of course) because it's just so vain and, well, silly. You can't take pictures of anything  else but yourself and the same 5 people? Whatever.

And for fairness' sake, I took the picture on my profile myself. So maybe I know nothing.

They call me hell

Happy late Mother's Day to those of you who should be receiving a Happy Mother's Day. And if you should be receiving a Happy Mother's Day wish, then you also know about the great mystery that is "Baby Brain" - you know, when you have no idea how you could have gotten into college, nevermind graduating because you can't keep a damn thought in your head for more than 2 minutes. And you go downstairs and realize you forgot something upstairs so you go upstairs but by then you've forgotten what you forgot so you go back downstairs and the whole thing starts over again. I forgot I have a blog! Okay not exactly, but I would remind myself to get online and post and then forget that I reminded myself.

I am so glad my new brain came in the mail. Now I just need to figure out how to use it.... I am totally relying on my Palm Centro to get me through this pregnancy - I got it to replace my old Palm Not A Phone Too, which I have misplaced and have absolutely no clue where it could possibly be.

Going to the doctor tomorrow.... Normally I would not be excited for what is in store for me there, but I get to find out I'm pregnant! I actually can't believe it and was worried I may have just made the whole thing up. So 5 days after the first positive test I was out doing the grocery shopping and picked up another test. That thing turned into a little positive sign the second the pee hit it, I swear. Turns out I'm pregnant!

As if my 5 year college reunion weren't enough motivation to stay healthy during this pregnancy and hopefully off of bed rest like I had last time, I'm going to see Pink and the Ting Tings in September when I should be roughly 6 or so months pregnant. The Doctor got the tickets yesterday and I am so rad for September!

You're asking me will my love grow

Since I know the readers of this blog are my closest and dearest friends, I've decided to make this a very special one. Remember back in the day when "Blossom" was on tv, and the previews always began "This week, on a very special Blossom..."? But I digress.

I'm pregnant!

I haven't been to the doctor yet or anything, but I have an appointment for this Tuesday. I have known for about 3 weeks, but the tests I took once a week kept reading negative. But I was sick and couldn't stand to have the husband within my personal space and had these headaches that all kept pointing in one direction: BabyTime. So we went up north for the weekend and I was all sorts of miserable. Finally my every ounce of happiness depended on Homestyle popcorn and ginger ale and the husband complied, of course. When we got home that night I decided to take one more test and it came up positive!!!!! So I ran down the stairs and the husband just knew what I was going to say... or maybe it was the pee stick I was holding in front of his face. Either way, we did a super happy dance which mainly involved hugging. I had to run out to the store because my every ounce of happiness depended on sweet and sour sauce for my egg rolls. So I called Big Sister and told her because I had to tell SOMEONE.

We told my parents first - they are ecstatic! Then we told the husband's parents, and now I'm telling you! Right now, my absolute happiness depends on a salad with chicken, pasta, spinach, feta cheese, and balsalmic vinegarette. So I've got to run. But the reason I haven't been posting with regularity is most everything is baby-themed right now and I didn't know when to tell people. But I couldn't keep it in any longer. That and my mother in law told everyone she knows so it's not a secret anymore.

We get the funniest looks from everyone we meet

Since he was a baby, Joey has been able to sleep through just about anything. We had multiple parties while he was newborn in our little apartment, a few more at our old house and he'd just snooze like nothing was going on. I am totally the same way - a heavy hard sleeper and don't even try and wake me up because I will come at you like something out of a horror movie. I'm not even a zombie until I've been "awake" for 10 minutes.

Anyway, early this morning after the husband went to work Joey let me know he peed in his bed and jammies. I told him to change his clothes and then come upstairs. He did so and actually fell back asleep which was good because I wasn't getting out of bed until my alarm rang in an hour and 15 minutes. So when it did ring I of course slapped the snooze button and glanced over at him - and he was still fast asleep. Didn't even stir.

My alarm used to have a nickname in college, given to me by my roommates. It was called The Louder Than Fuck Alarm. It has this "LOUD" setting that might actually raise the dead (further testing is needed) but couldn't rouse me from my sleep. And I'm talking about completely sober mornings, too. It still can't get me out of bed unless I implicitly have something to do in the morning.

So I needed to get Joey up and going because I was amused enough by him sleeping through the alarm to be awake and then I noted that I was hungry. I thought it would be a treat to turn on PBS and watch Sesame Street for a few minutes until he was awake. I pressed the "ON" button on the remote and the electric hum of the tv turning on got the kid to sit straight up in the bed from a dead sleep and he said/mumbled "Can I watch cartoons?"

Well it's time to begin as the summer sets in

After getting home from a great weekend with the inlaws, I got an envelope in the mail with the coolest fabric samples in it! Yay Big Sister! This stuff is awesome, and I can't wait to get started on what's sure to be the Great Robot Room Debacle. But no worries; it will turn into The Coolest Thing I've Done to Date right at the last minute. Then I'll have to think of The Next Coolest Thing to do; I'm already scheming, and I'm sure you will all be surprised and then jealous of my coolness.

Wouldn't it be totally rad to have a room full of toys? Just toys - shelves and drawers full of toys, a table to play with above mentioned toys on, a play kitchen and all sorts of play food, an entire bookshelf of books, a colorful rug, and a fun pillow shaped like a turtle to lay on. For some reason unbeknownst to the husband and myself, Joey refuses to play in his playroom! We tell him to go play there, and he screams like we told him to get Daddy's pliers and pull out his big toenail on his left foot (I know, I've told him to do the latter before and it's totally the same scream).

I'm so over it. I could turn that room into a future nursery or something and save myself the aggravation of a JoeyFit. I suppose that a lot of it has to do with how we had our old house set up; most of the toys were on a shelf in the living room and whatever wasn't was in his room. And we had no problem with him bringing the toys from his room to the living room. I was a single parent back then and it was easiest to keep him near me in the front of the house while I did whatever I had to do. But now I set aside a special area just for him to help contain the mess and he treats it like a cell in Sing Sing.

I've even considered going to a dark dark evil place: putting a tv and DVD player in the playroom. There I could research and develop my own special brand of zombie and start calling him The 3 Year Old Undead Wonder. I can totally see it now: him sitting on his knees with his arms lax at his sides, his head turned all the way up resting on the back of his neck, eyes open wide and his mouth open wider. I'd say "Joey?" and he'd grunt at me. I'd turn off the tv and he'd attack me with all the viciousness of a flesh-eating undead.

Remove the head!!!!!