Take the money and run

Of all the times for my doctor's office to be running late, why must it be on the day I intentionally drank copious amounts of water to ensure I coyld provide a sample? When I was here last they were running on time and I had peed the hour before my appointment and I couldn't, well... perform. So I haven't gone since about 1:30 this afternoon and I drank extra water and it's almost 4 and I'm going bonkers. Luckily there is no one else in the waiting room but the staff are about to see the best damned potty dance EVER.

I bounced this idea off The Big earlier today, and I think I want to try my hand at selling my crafts. It's not much but I do so love the time I spend in front of my easel or at my art table, not to mention the zen state I achieve with a needle in my hand. [Oh my god my insides are going to fucking burst] At this point I have a list of about 10 things I know I can make and 1 or 2 that look really pretty in my head. [Sweet relief!] The list basically consists of things I would gladly make for myself (or already have) and those would just act as samples. I would gladly provide room for customizing in order to ensure maximum customer satisfaction, or one could just order items as shown. I'm kind of excited - not only could this potentally bring in some extra money, but it's something I really enjoy doing!

Right now it's all still an idea, but luckily I've remembered to take photographs of some of the better projects I've done.

I think I'll toast to success and prosperity with my next glass of water. Join me, won't you?

You can't sing But you still put me to sleep

At this moment I am alone in my house. Kind of. After 16 or so days of +100 degree weather, it is 1:30 pm and 86 degrees outside. Nice, huh? Well, it is for Texas in July anyway. SOOOO... I put sunscreen and bug spray on the kid and sent him and Izzy the Babysitter Dog out to play. I opened up the backdoor and opened the window in my art room overlooking the backyard. So I am painting (right now - waiting for paint to dry), keeping an eye on the kid in the fort out back, and watching "7th Heaven". Life couldn't get any better.

Every night we put The Joey to bed and every night 3 minutes after we've closed the door he calls for us because he swears he saw a monster. So we devised a story about why there are no monsters in the house. So The Joey knows we brought Izzy home from a shelter a long time ago. But what he didn't know... was that before Izzy was at the shelter she was a super dog monster hunter. And whenever there is a monster close, Izzy the Monster Hunter will spring into action and eat the monster up.

Amazingly, it works.

And my paint is dry.

Who knows, not me, I never lost control

So I had a conversation with The Husband last night about something that has bothered me for the past, oh, 10 years or so. And just let me preface this with a short story. Way back when - when the Husband was just That Guy I Want to Ask Me Out - and I learned that he was in the Air Force I had a conversation with my mother (I know; go fig). I was anti-all things Republican and conservative (still am) but I confused military personnel with military action. And she said that if I really liked this guy (still do) that I would have to learn to reconcile the fact that he's military with my strong oppositional views towards the things he's ordered to do, not asked to do. That being said, five years later I am a very proud military wife and support The Husband in his career. I also still drive the Obama-mobile on base....

Anyway, over the 4th of July holiday weekend all I kept hearing was to remember the troops fighting for our freedom overseas, remember the troops away from home protecting our rights, etc. After the 10 o'clock news I finally couldn't take it anymore and wanted to talk to The Husband to get his opinion and find out if what I thought was more my extreme leftist opinion than anything else. To my great surprise, he actually agreed with me: neither of us think it's correct to say that the military fights for our freedom or to protect our rights. The Husband says he can reconcile what people say over and over with the fact that the military fights for someone's freedom, and to protect someone's rights. But he said let's call a spade a spade and say "The military is in Afghanistan fighting terrorists." That's it. We don't discuss Iraq because the conversation ends with me losing it and going out on tangents and The Husband saying "I know! I know! I agree with you - why are you yelling at me?!" But I digress. The faction we are fighting in Afghanistan wants to kill us, not take away our rights or our freedom. Granted, I don't know everything, but I don't really think that the whole master plot of the attack on Pearl Harbor and the attacks of 2001 and the thwarted alleged attacks since were to invade the U.S., overthrow the government and remove all rights, privileges and freedoms actually fought for during the American Revolution. That's right people. I paid attention during American History....

For someone who gets labeled a socialist every four years or so, I sure do dislike nationalistic propaganda messages.

Don't break the heart that needs you

I may or may not have field mouse guts on my tires. I refuse to look. I'm almost halfway through The Bank Trip From Hell (it involves a 2 hour drive - one way) and I just want a nap. At least The Joey took one, although now he's bugging me every two minutes that he's hungry. Geez... kids are such babies.

Please belive me I'll never do you no harm

As if getting started on The Robot Room, planning the rearranging furniture throughout the house, thinking about having a garage sale, sewing a baby blanket and growing a baby were not enough... I got out some directions I printed ages ago about how to recover a couch. I don't know if this is nesting or just me going off the deep end but I feel the need to bury myself in so much craft crap I won't ever be able to finish. If only I could get paid to do this stuff....

Note that "planning" and "thinking" aren't actually things I'm acting on, but sometimes I feel like our household's personal think tank - I don't even bring things up to The Husband until I've gone through all the logistics and contingencies. Then he comes in to do the heavy lifting. I tell him he's the muscle of our little operation, and he tells me I'm the brains.

At least I know that I will never be bored during our forever together. Last night I made mention of the doctor's appointment I have this afternoon. I told him a month a go and several times since it's come up in casual conversation that we will be hearing the baby's heartbeat today and I wanted him and the Joey to come to the appointment with me so we could all hear it together. Well as we were brushing our teeth before bed last night The Husband makes some side comment about staying home with the Joey while I go to the doctor and I just about lose my glue, going on about how I've already told him about this important appointment and if he isn't going to be involved with the things going on in this pregnancy I don't want him to come and I'll bring the Joey by myself and he can just stay at work for all I care. So he gets me calmed down a little by admitting he can't help stupid and he should have remembered what was going on. So then he says, "I know what's going on" and I say "Oh really? What's going on?" thinking he was going to say something like "I forgot what you said a month ago and I'm really sorry." No - he says "I'm getting in trouble!" and I guess my face must have shot up into flames like you see in cartoons because his eyes got really big and he stammered "Word vomit! That's not what I meant to say! I couldn't stop myself!" And I burst out laughing. The combination of his face and the fact that I really believe him when he says he can't stop himself sometimes just equals that I can't ever stay mad at him. What can I say? I love that man....

I can't decide what to do this July 4th weekend. I'd like to go out and see some fireworks or something but I don't think that's going to be possible without boiling the baby. I also thought about us making the trip up North to the lake and the boat but I remembered the last time we were up there a few weeks ago and I was just plain miserable. The boat wouldn't stop moving! And yes, I do know that's kind of what they do but if you were in my position that day you wouldn't care either.

During a conversation with The Doctor last weekend I revealed a secret wish of mine. I want to be sent away for a long weekend to somewhere with spa packages. I walk in and they have a room ready for me. The specific spa package has already been chosen for me and the only decisions I have to make for the entire weekend is what I'm going to order off the room service menu - everything is already paid for. I can walk into my room and turn off my cell phone, there is no computer and I can turn off the ringer on the landline in the room. There's a huge soaking tub in front of a picture window with a view of a valley or mountains or the beach - anything so I can get lost in a bathtub my whole body can fit into. No one bothers me and I can sleep as late as I want, get hot stone massages and watch movies alone. Nice dream, huh?

I like to replay this little fantasy of mine on the rare occasion I get to take a bubble bath here at home. The last time was last week - can't remember the time before. But my bathtub is too small (my upper arms don't even get damp in our standard-sized bathtub/shower combo) and WWIII was going on downstairs, something about The Joey not cleaning up his toys and The Husband got angry because The Joey never does anything he says but everything I say. Peaceful relaxing bubble bath, right? So the dream was shot and I gave up and played Switzerland until The Joey started crying because he got scared at The Husband's "angry voices" and then I was all U.S. on The Husband (like that metaphor?) until he relented and The United Nations was formed.

Wait a second... either I took that metaphor too far or I just really confused myself. No matter - cardio!

Here we come, walking down the street

Everyone is sad Michael Jackson died and everything, but can we get back to regular "Good Morning America"? There's so much more going on in the world, and the devote two hours to Michael Jackson? I can understand MTV and VH1 playing tributes around the clock....

Speaking of - I was watching MTV this morning and was amazed to see Kurt Loder is STILL on! Isn't he like 60 or something?! Then I thought about a few other past vjs. Chris Connely is with ABC now doing grown-up work. But what I really want to know is what happened to Jessie. Do ya'll remember him? He was that super trippy dirty hippie vj. I loved him!

Right now I should be getting ready for the baby shower I'm going to in a few hours. Why should I be getting ready so early? Becuse I must also get Joey ready, pack him some movies and toys, then he'll be hungry for lunch despite the two eggs and bowl of cereal he had for breakfast (I know!), then The Doctor will probably be here to help and get us out the door and to another friends' house so Joey doesn't have to come with us. THEN we can finally be on our way to the shower. And where, you might ask, is The Husband? Well, despite the fact that I had been telling him for months the date of the shower, he failed to put two and two together that June 27th is at the end of the month JUST LIKE his drill weekend. And yet, just two weeks ago I brought it up in conversation and that it was also his drill weekend so yet again I was left scrambling for a sitter while he did nothing but be blissfully unaware of anything, as usual.

Whew. Okay. Deep breath. I know it's the crazy coming out and if I don't stop here I'll go into a tirade about how a 26 year old man should be able to keep track of his own commitments, especially if those commitments reoccur monthly for the past six or so years.

Besides, I have to go throw up and get in the shower.

And what she fittin' to have she don't know

One angry thing, and then off to the good things....

The Husband and I were watching the news yesterday afternoon and there were two incidents of parents leaving their children in cars while they shopped. People, it was over a hundred degrees yesterday, not to even estimate what temperature it was inside those cars. And in both incidents the parents were charged with endangering a child. Personally, I think there should be harsher charges. I believe that anyone not intellectually/developmentally challenged has to know that if you leave a kid in a car on a hot day, the kid gets hurt. So if you leave a kid in a car on a hot day you do so with the intent to harm the kid. Seriously.

Now off to fun and good things....

I did my own research online today concerning old wives' tales about pregnancy and gender prediction. I wanted to see if there was anything about spicy foods curing morning sickness. It's so weird, but when I feel really sick I have a pepperoncini and boom! all better. Here are a few of the best ones and what they say about me:

Pull down the skin under your left eye and look at your eyeball. If you see a vein that looks like a V or branches, you will be having a girl. Well, I ran to the bathroom to do this right away and... I have a perfect V vein!

Have the mother-to-be pick up a single key. If she picks it up by the round part it will be a boy. If she picks up the long narrow part it will be a girl. If she picks it up in the middle she is supposedly having twins. Well, I don't think I could subconsciously pick up a key without trying to get the narrow part. So I won't do that one.

Ask a child under the age of 5. Conveniently, I have one of those! So I asked him to tell me if Wheatie Wheat is a boy or a girl. He said girl, and he's been referencing to the baby as a girl for a long time now. However, he also really thinks we're going to name the child Wheatie Wheat.

If you crave sweets and/or healthy food, you're having a girl. If you crave meats and cheeses and/or salty unhealthy food, you're having a boy. I must say, I wanted hamburgers all the damn time with Joey. And I ate them, too! But with this pregnancy I've had this little problem with buying a ton of fruits and vegetables, more than we can eat. But it's all I want - raisin bran, double fiber bread, grapes, apples, water. Sprites and artificially sweet things kind of make me sick. However, I have to have dessert every night. An ice cream cone (anything other than natural vanilla bean gives me indigestion), chocolate pudding, rice crispy treats, etc. But only once a day do I want that.

If your hands start to get dry and chapped, it will be a boy; if your hands are softer now, it will be a girl. No chapped hands here!!!

If your feet get colder than they were before you got pregnant, you're having a boy. If your feet are the same or warmer than they were before you got pregnant, you're having a girl. I used to tuck my feet into the couch cushions or under The Husband's legs while he sat next to me or under the dog while she lay next to wherever I was. I have about 20 pairs of fuzzy house socks. I don't use anything anymore!!!

(Can you tell I'm getting more and more excited?)

If you are sick more and moody, it is a girl. I plead the fifth. But I'm sure The Husband and The Doctor will gladly tell you I am Exorcist nauseous and street rat crazy. Even Izzy the Wonder Dog hides under the table when I get going.

More acne means you're having a girl. Yeah... I love concealer.

A girl will "sap" her mother's beauty and energy. With Joey my hair grew, it was manageable, I had that whole glowing nice wonderful peaceful beauty thing going on (in my opinion, anyway). Well, with this pregnancy I can't do a thing with my hair except put it in a half-assed pony tail, it's not growing or shiny; in fact, it's frizzy and dry and awful. I've already stated my skin all over my body but mostly on my face/chest/arms is breaking out wicked-like and my face just always feels dirty no matter how much I wash it.

Pee in a glass or jar with a tablespoon of Drain-o in it. If the mixture turns green, it means girl. If the mixture turns blue, it means boy. I don't just have Drain-o lying around my house and I have no motivation whatsoever to go get some, nor to pee in a cup not provided to me by my doctor. So I have to pass on this one.

Hold a needle on a string above your open palm. If it moves in a circular motion, you will be having a girl. If it moves back and forth like a pendulum, you will have a boy. Hold on... CIRCLES!!!

If a toddler boy shows interest in a pregnant woman, she will have a girl. If he ignores the pregnant woman, she will have a boy. I have to say, he's very interested. He tells me to take my vitamins every day "so the baby will grow big and strong in your tummy!" And today he came up and held my hand and said "Mommy, I want to hold Wheatie Wheat. Can you take her out of your tummy?"

So, we have another 5 or so weeks until we can find out... but I'm pretty excited about what these old wives' tales have to tell me. Cross your fingers, people!