Moved...

This blog has moved to www.shandit.com

See you there!

Conversations with Cole

We gave Cole a bath last night and Hottie was talking to him and Cole was talking back. A couple of times, Cole started laughing, a new thing for him. Food for my soul. I was lucky enough to catch it on video. Check him out.

Random Thoughts

The weather this weekend was spectacular. Neither hot nor cold, the perfect temperature to open the windows and the doors allowing the breeze to drift through the house and sweeping in the fresh scent. I love this type of weather, where it's neither summer nor winter, but the time right in between, be it spring or fall.

Hottie worked his early morning shift this weekend and was home by early afternoon. We spent the afternoons driving around and looking at houses. You know, the type that we can't afford. It's fun to walk through them and see all the potential if only we were rich.

I've decided that I want a camera. I've wanted one for a couple of years, one of the really nice ones that you can manually zoom in on the subject of the picture and snap an eyelash up close if I wanted to. These cameras aren't cheap. I look at Little Man and worry that I'm not taking enough pictures, not capturing all of the moments that I need to in order to remember the little things that he does when he's the age that he is now. How he scrunches up his entire face when the sun shines on him, how his tongue seems to be a separate part of his body and constantly sticks out, his chubby little cheeks. I want the camera to capture everything that my memory might one day forget.

Foot in Mouth

A couple of weeks ago I bought some new software called Photoshop which enables you to doctor photos, enhance them, and create some special effects. I've been anxious to try out this new software and test it out with some pictures of Little Man, but like so many things, time has gotten away from me.

Well, on my way home from work today I was thinking about how I want to take a good picture of me and put it on the header of this blog. I thought to myself, I'll have to get Hottie to take some pictures of me.

Well, the following conversation took place when I got home and I hope you see the humor in it like I do. Made me laugh hysterically, especially when he had no idea what he said and asked me, what's so funny?

Me: Babe, I want to take some really nice pictures of me and put them on my blog. You know, maybe up in the corner or something, on the header section?

Hottie: Yeah.

Me: A close up of my face, but I want to look really pretty.

Hottie: We'll have to use the Photoshop that you bought.

$25,000

Hottie wants to enter Little Man in a beauty contest. Yes, you read that right. The DADDY wants to enter the baby in the contest.

He calls me up at work one day and tells me that he's found this web site and we could enter in a picture of Cole and win a lot of money if he wins the grand prize. $25,000.

I'm thinking someone told him about the site or someone he knows has entered in their child as well and that's why he wants to do it. Nope, that's not why he wants to enter.

Everyone keeps telling him, the way that people do when they see a picture, "wow, what a cute baby!", "that baby is so pretty", "he sure is going to get lots of girls when he gets older!" So, Hottie, hearing all this, goes online, finds a beauty contest and now wants to enter Little Man into the contest.

Now, don't forget, that Hottie also knows that Little Man looks just like him.

Did I mention the grand prize is $25,000?

Chillin

He's a picture of Little Man chillin' in his swing.

Rain

I used to hate the rain. That was when I drove my little silver Saturn with the moonroof from hell. Every time it rained, it was like a waterfall flowing through the leak and gushing all over the driver's seat and the rear seat. If I saw clouds in the sky, I dreaded it and would say quick prayers to God that he wouldn't do that to me. I would call home en route and say, "Please open the garage, I need to park in it!" My car would stink of mildew for days until the moisture had dried up.

But now it's as if those years have washed away with the very rain that I dreaded. My new car doesn't leak, so I'm now fully able to enjoy what Mother Nature brings.

In Texas, you can smell the rain before it arrives. The heavy moisture hangs in the air, thickens it, and spreads its dew along the grass and the trees. And then the rain comes. Huge gushes of it. And the ground is so dry, rivers flow, lakes form over roads, and the occasional idiot is stranded with a drowned car because he tried to drive over it.

On days like this, I like to stay in and watch Mother Nature as she reminds us that we're merely humans. Uncapable of the majesty, the sheer force, that she can exert to make her point.

And then I look at my son. Every detail perfect, down to the last fingertip. Majestic.

Dawdle

I almost always forget that English is not Hottie's first language. Sometimes, I'll get reminded of that fact when I'm least suspecting it as in the case below.

My phone at work rang.
Me: Hello? (Not the way I answer the phone at work, but you get the point.)

Hottie: You won't believe what those fuckers said to me!

Me: Who?

Hottie: Those assholes said that I dawdle! I don't fucking dawdle! I work my ass off around here.

Hottie was ranting at full speed when I caught his last sentence.

Me: Uh, babe?

Hottie: I can't believe they fucking said that! I'm one of the hardest workers on this entire team!

Me: Babe, uh, what do you think that dawdling means?

There was a long pause.

Hottie: Well, what do you think it means?

Me: You know. To pussy-foot around, to take your time with something, drag your feet, you know, dawdle.

An even longer pause.

Hottie: Oh. Well, I do do that.

Giddy-Up!

Grannie got this little horse for my nephew and now that he's out grown it, its gone to Little Man. What do you think? Does he look ready to ride off into the sunset?

Beau Games

Most mornings Beau follows me around the house while I'm getting ready for work. He'll inevitably walk in front of me, almost cause me to trip and I'll yell, "Beau! Get out of my way!"

But there are quite a few games that we also like to play with Beau. Mostly for our own amusement. This morning was no exception.

Beau sits right outside of the door of our bathroom while I'm putting on my makeup and blow drying my hair. Sometimes he lies within inches of my feet, and I have to be careful not to step on him. We haven't been able to play this morning game in quite a while because Hottie and Little Man are usually sleeping. This morning, however, everyone was up and the boys were chilling on the bed while I was blow drying my hair.

Beau came and sat by the door of the bathroom and stared at me. I could hear the boys chattering in the master bedroom. I moved the hairdryer over my hair and looked at Beau out of the corner of my eye.

Suddenly, I jerked and aimed the blow dryer right at Beau's face and lunged at him. He turned, moving his little legs so fast that his body was trying to move while his butt was still sitting along the wall! He took off running across the bedroom and turned and barked at the hairdryer.

Hottie and I died laughing. Little Man sat and looked big-eyed around the room, uncertain what was so funny.

I was still laughing moments later when I went back to blow drying my hair, and Beau came trotting back up to sit in his spot again. Mind you, I'm standing there in my underwear because I haven't dressed yet when I call to Hottie, "Watch this! I'm going to do it again!"

Confirming that Beau is still sitting there, I turned and lunged at him again.

He took off running. And my foot caught on a towel on the floor, my head slammed into the bathroom door, and my knee and elbow caught my fall on the floor.

Beau turned around in the middle of the bedroom and looked at me like, what the hell are you doing on the floor in your underwear?

I don't know who laughed harder - me or Hottie.

Halloween

Okay, I know that Halloween is quite a ways off, but I've already ordered Little Man's Halloween costume and had to share it with everyone. Check it out at here:

http://www.onestepahead.com/catalog/product.jsp?productId=534964&parentCategoryId=90179&categoryId=90185&subCategoryId=90198

He's going to be so adorable!

Midnight Truths

My son looks like a little miniature version of his father. He has the same nose, lips, brown eyes, hands and feet as his daddy. I honestly think the few things of mine that he received are my ears and my eyelashes. And one of those may still be debatable.

Many people, I've found, are hesitant to say who he looks like. There are those who are quick to agree with me that he looks like his daddy. And then there are those who hesitate and then quickly say, "Well, it's really hard to say when babies are this little."

Seriously? Who are they trying to fool? The kid has beautiful tan skin compared to my freckles, brown eyes to my blue. I think it boils down to their fear of hurting my feelings. And why would it hurt my feelings when I happen to think his daddy is one damn fine looking man?

Well, Hottie is also one of those people who hesitated to say the truth. He would always say, "Babe, I think he looks like both of us."

"No, babe, he looks just like you." I'd tell him.

"Really? You think so?" And he'd lean over and study Cole closely, not commenting anymore.

Until one night when I heard him on the monitor as he went to get Cole for his midnight feeding. I could hear the rustling as he changed his diaper and talked to him.

"You're so cute, Cole!" He told him softly. And then? The damning evidence: "You look just like your daddy!"

Hot Dog

My nephew was at my house visiting as my mother was also in town for the birth of Little Man and wanted to spend some time with both of her grandsons. Little Man was about a week and a half old and I went into the other room to nurse him when my nephew followed me into the bedroom. I had a cover-up on so all he saw was Little Man's feet sticking out from underneath the cover-up.

"What you doing?" My nephew asked. His bright blue eyes staring at us curiously.

Hmmm...how to explain this to a three year old?

"Feeding Cole." I decided to keep it simple.

"What he eating?" Blue Eyes stepped closer and looked at the cover-up. He reached out and before I could stop him peaked under the cover-up. I don't think he saw anything and was trying to decide how to answer so that he would understand when he said, "A hot dog?"

He was staring at me, waiting for an answer.

"Yup, he's eating a hot dog."

"I want one."

Uh oh.

Peaceful Boy

Happiness

I can honestly say that right now I'm the happiest I've ever been in my whole life. The only thing that would completely cap it off would be if I got a call from someone saying that they wanted to publish one of my manuscripts and pay me millions of dollars to do so.

I've got a fantastic man (not sure if you could tell considering how often I'm blogging about him!), I've got a great dog, a beautiful, healthy son, and a great house that we're still making ours. Happiness is just radiating out of me.

But happiness is a fickle emotion as we all know.

It was Saturday morning, I was blissfully happy and in a great mood. Hottie, Little Man and myself were on a short drive when Someone decided to rain on my happy day and try to infect me with his grouchiness.

But it didn't work.

I like being Blissfully Happy and think I'm going to stay that way for as long as I can.

So there. :-)

Shhh! Sleeping...

Top Two Q's

I've never noticed it before, but there seem to be top two questions that new moms get asked, especially if you're going back to work. Of course, I wouldn't have noticed it if I weren't a new mom myself, but thinking back, I know that I've also asked these questions of my fellow friends and co-workers.

Don't get me wrong - it's not annoying by any means, but it's almost funny how frequently they get asked. So, here they are with my answers.

1. Are you breastfeeding?
- Yes, I am. Exclusively so far. I pump at work so that kiddo has enough to eat while I'm gone. I'm going to try and do it for as long as possible. It's a built in food source, cheaper than formula, and it's making Little Man fat and healthy. So, I don't see any reason to stop just yet.

2. What are you doing with kiddo while you're at work?
- Luckily we have a friend that's a stay at home mom. She has two girls herself, ages 9 and 11, so Little Man is the only boy and only baby there so far. So, of course, he is getting spoiled rotten. It's working out good for all parties so far and she's great with him.

Crappy Friend Strikes Again!

I like to think that I'm a great friend, and that all of my friends would agree with me.

But they know the truth. That sometimes I'm a really crappy friend who forgets birthdays, and RSVPs for parties and then no-shows.

Take this weekend, for example. I'd planned on going to a party that VA was hosting, visiting with all my chickadees, showing off my Little Man, and maybe spending some money that I don't have. My friend, Miss Arkansas and her hubby came into town, and we had a great time. Sunday rolled around and my mind was so focused on the upcoming week (my second week back at work) while I was shopping in the middle of Walmart (one of the greatest stores that ever existed. I mean, really, where else can you find a frozen dinner, a t-shirt, and a bicycle?) when I got The Call.

"Kim?"

"Hey, Miss Arkansas, what's up? Are you guy's having a safe trip home?"

"Um, are you not at VA's for the party?"

Oh shit. Crappy friend strikes again! Seriously, why is it so hard for me to remember this stuff? Does my brain just hit the delete button at 5 PM on Friday's?

I'm going to have to find a way to make it up to her. Right after I find a way to make it up to Miss Arkansas that I forgot her birthday this year. Again.

Does anyone else have this problem? Or am I the only crappy one out there? More than likely, I'm just the biggest crappy one. Or the crappiest of the crappy. God, I've been changing too many diapers lately. Maybe that's why I have crap on my brain...

Where's Cole?

It's BIG!

This actually happened to one of my co-workers wife and their kids. The story was too funny not to post it here.

The wife was waiting in the doctor's office waiting room with their two kids when the little boy, who's 3, says, "Mom, look!"

She's trying to get their daughter settled on the chair, glances over, and replies, "Pull down your shirt!" He had pulled up his shirt and his little pudgy belly was on display. She turned back around when he called again, "But, Mom, look!"

She didn't look, but responded, "Pull down your shirt!"

"But, Mom, look! Look!"

Frustrated, she placed one hand on the baby's belly to hold her in place and turned to her son. He had yanked up his shirt and his belly was sticking out. When he saw that she had turned around, he quickly yanked down his pants and pointed.

"Mom, it's BIG!"

Pictures from a Bragging Mom

"Mmmmm. He's sweet." - Beau


My Sleeping Boys


A Smile is Worth a Thousand Words

A Reasoning Man

I was half asleep, keeping my eyes closed in the event that Hottie would expect me to get up and get the baby. I figured if I shut them for a few minutes more, he'd do it. Sure enough, like the good daddy he is, he hopped up, went over to Cole and started changing him.

I peeked my eyes open and watched my boys. A new favorite past time that brings a smile to my face when I watch them together. Father and son interacting. This morning (or was in the middle of the night?), there was a one sided conversation to go along with the show.

"Now, son, there's no reason for this." I watched as he quickly grabbed another diaper. "You can't keep pottying right in the middle of being changed. We're wasting diapers here, kiddo. From now on, do your business before I change you, not during. I don't want to tell you again."

Cole just regarded his daddy with the steely gray stare that accompanies all infants. While daddy may feel better trying to reason with a newborn, I saw no point. He may have just joined our world, but we're not the ones in charge here.

Little Man

I've added some pictures of our Little Man, so everyone can rave about how cute and adorable he is! I think he's the spitting image of his daddy, but his Tia and cousin, Ashley, disagree. I'll let all of you be the judge!

Cole Andrew has arrived!

More details to follow once I get some sleep and figure out how to download the pictures to my laptop. He was born June 6th at 7:46 PM weighing in at 7 pounds 3 ounces and was 20 1/2 inches long. Looks like a mini version of his daddy!

Hottie Gets a Job!

As some of you know, there is not a lazy bone in Hottie's hot body. Matter of fact, he makes the rest of us mere humans look pathetically lazy. So, when he told me last year that he wanted to start his own lawn business, what was a girl to say except "Go for it!" I knew that regardless of what I said, Hottie's idea was already fully formed, he'd already planned it all out, and was now, not asking for permission, but merely letting me know that he was about to start another project that he would make a success.

When we moved into the house, Hottie told me he was a handyman. Now, a lot of guys says this and don't mean it. Shortly after we moved in, Hottie said that he was going to put in a workshop in the garage. He spent a couple of weeks planning it out, drawing up plans, and measuring the wall. I thought he was all talk and no action. Little did I know. I left on a business trip on Monday and came home on Friday to a new garage. Along the left wall, he'd built a wooden shelf, with drawers underneath, and hung cabinets on the wall where his tools and machinery were already in place. Wow! I thought, He's handy! And the workmanship of the space was easily on par with a professional's. Friends have wanted to hire him to do a workshop in their garages. And when he built my arbor/pergola with my flagstone patio underneath, their faces turned green with envy, little horns grew out of their heads, and they prayed that their men would magically turn handy like Hottie.

So, when he told me that he wanted to start a business, I knew he would take the time to do it right. And he did. He did research online, registered his business's name with the state, bought a trailer and equipment, invoice software, and any other trappings of a business that he could think of. Then he started passing out his business cards.

And today, he got his first customer! Whoo-hoo! Bring home the bacon, Hottie!

Why I'm Not a Doctor

We went in for our sonogram on Wednesday morning. I settled on the table as the technician got everything ready. "I couldn't find our CD anywhere in our house, so I'll need to go ahead and purchase a new one." I tell her. They'll record the sonogram on a CD and give it to me to keep for a small $3 fee.

"Well, at this late stage of the pregnancy, the babies are usually head down, face down, so there's not much to see, but I can go ahead and burn it on a CD for you." She reached for the gel to slather some on my stomach.

"Oh, I don't know that he's turned yet." I point to the huge lump sticking out my right side. "I think that's his butt and his head is over here. I think he's laying sideways."

She placed the sensor on my lower stomach, right above my pelvic bone. "Yup, there's his head. Head down, face down."

I called my mom on the way out to fill her in on the news. "He turned, Mom! I don't know when, but he's head down, face down and in position. He hasn't dropped yet, though. That big lump on my right side is his shoulders, and the smaller lump on my left is his feet. He weights 6 pounds 3 ounces so far."

"That's great! Have you packed your bag yet?"

"No, but I still have two weeks before I'm due and I'm not dilated yet at all. She said that if I go over a week, then we'll look at inducing. I think I'll end up being right on time." I pause a moment while I think about that. "But, then, what do I know? I thought my kid was laying sideways. I'll pack my bag this weekend."

Baby Update

We're now meeting with the doctor once a week. We met with her yesterday and she advised that we'll have a sonogram on our next visit next week. As some of you who have seen me are aware, Kiddo is laying sideways, or transverse. His butt is prominently displayed on my right side and his head is poking out my left side, instead of the head down position that he's supposed to be in.

So, Doc is giving us a sonogram to check him out and see exactly how he's laying. From what I've read on the internet, most babies turn head down by the 36 weeks mark, which I passed last Friday. This little guy, though, hasn't budged an inch. He still may spontaneously turn, but if he's stubborn at all like his mom and dad, then I don't see that happening.

I'll let everyone know how the sonogram goes next week and see if I can post some picture of him!

From Beau

This is the life. Dad snapped this photo when he didn't think I was looking. I had an eye on him, though, and was watching him out of the corner of my eye while he snuck up on me. Jumped up and chased him out of the room! He was laughing like a lunatic while I was on his heels.

Dad's a funny one. Every time I turn around he wants to snuggle with me. Pulls me up onto the couch, rubs my belly, and we sit and watch TV together. Tells me not to tell mom cause she doesn't want me on the furniture. Something about what she calls "Beau stank," whatever that is. Caught Dad with his feet in some kind of foot spa this afternoon while Mom was napping. Bubbles kept coming up from the water while he sat there and watched sports highlights. He wouldn't let me chase the bubbles that overflowed and spilled onto the towel he had underneath. I like chasing bubbles. I'll get him back though when he falls asleep and leaves the chip dip on the couch. Yum.

Mom's gotten really funny looking lately. Smells different too. Actually the whole house smells different. Mom and Dad moved a bunch of stuff around and have all this new furniture in the front room. With toys they put out of my reach. I know I'll get my teeth on that stuffed dog sooner or later, though. It's only a matter of time.

Yup, I got the two of them eating out of my paw. Nothing's gonna change for me. No, sirree.

Showers

Check out me and a couple of my college friends at my shower.

Baby showers. Not my thing. Matter of fact, I've always hated baby showers. Thought they were boring, a waste of time, and couldn't wait until the time was up before making my escape. And the games that were played? They didn't even involve alcohol, for crying out loud. What kind of party was that? And then some women always wanted to turn the party to be about them by bringing their children, usually new babies or toddlers, who would then take over the party. They'd follow their children around to ensure the kids didn't stick their fingers in the cake to taste the icing or would guilt the pregnant mom into letting said kids "help" open all of her gifts.

Yes, baby showers were never my thing. Until, that is, it was my turn.

My dear friend, Miss Arkansas, offered to throw me a shower. Right in the middle of her moving out of state, buying a new house, and moving into the new house. Do I have great friends or what? She spent a small fortune, even flying into town with all of the decorations that she'd bought, and seemed so genuinely excited to be throwing me this shower.

I'm very lucky and grateful for the friends that I have. More than twenty people showed up for my shower, all to celebrate me and the new life growing inside me and about to make his appearance in less than four weeks. They flew into town, drove more than ten hours, drove from the next neighborhood over, all bearing gifts like the three wise men. Some of my closest friends weren't able to make it. One had lost her dear husband less than a couple of weeks prior. And a couple of others simply lived too far away to join in the celebration but sent their love.

The game was fun (especially when I was on the winning team!), the kids were awesome and eager to let me open my own gifts by passing them to me and watching as I opened each one, and those who love alcohol were smart enough to gift me some for me to bring to the hospital after the baby is born and celebrate in true style.

Those who were eager to leave said their goodbyes shortly after the time allotted on the invitations. And then there were those who always turn my house into Party Central (God bless them because we love to entertain!) and stayed until close to midnight.

Yes, I have a whole new appreciation for baby showers.

And for my friends. I love you guys!

Shadows

Some people have a harder time letting go of the past than others. Matter of fact, they dwell on it, obsess about it, and totally lose focus of the things that matter that are right in front of them. They wallow in that dark place, losing sight of their loved ones, in the shadows so deep that they can't see a way out. At this point, they usually make a bad decision, and if they're lucky, live to talk about it later.

I was at work one day when I got the call from my father that my brother had tried to kill himself. At this point, my brother lived in an apartment, had custody of his son with his girlfriend, and was so high on different kinds of drugs that he had lost sight of the important things. Like his own life. Or his own son.

Did you know that when someone tries to kill themselves that they're arrested? The police stand by the hospital bed and no family members are allowed in the room. At all. You rush to the hospital wanting to check on your loved one, and you're not allowed to see them. Not for days. The victim (should I even call them a victim when they do it to themselves?) is then taken to the psychiatric ward, allowed no visitors, no phone calls, while the DA decides if they want to press charges against the victim. Trying to kill yourself is against the law.

And if the victim has children? CPS is called and the child is taken into custody and put in a foster home while the parents are evaluated.

My nephew now lives with my father.

My brother? Alive. Sober. And homeless.

Random Thoughts about Pregnancy

.
My breasts laying (yes, people, LAYING) on the top of my stomach! Why the hell didn't anyone ever tell me that happens?

My ankles and calves becoming cankles. And oddly enough, not hurting even though they're humongous!

Nipples the size of small dinner plates. No, I'm not kidding. And did I mention that apparently they change to a dark brown color? WTF?

Leaking breasts. Oh, this is a fun one. Especially when you have no idea that this can happen and you're on a business trip, walking around another office, with a giant milk stain on your shirt. Way to make a great impression on the team!

My man suffering from all of my symptoms, or the symptoms that I'm supposed to have, but he's stolen from me. You know what I'm talking about, girls! Ask any nine month pregnant chick if she wants sex, and what's she going to tell you? The same thing Hottie has been telling me. Freaking sucks.

Beau being fascinated by the smell of all the diapers that are now being stored in the baby's room closet. Poor thing has no idea what's about to happen.
.

Comments about My Pregnancy

"How did this happen?" - Hottie's daughter

"Are you guys going to get married?" - multiple people

"You're not showing hardly at all." - multiple people early in the pregnancy

"Kim ran out there like she was going to help, all fat and all. You know, pregnant." - Hottie

"You know, you're about to get huge! That last month, you just won't believe how huge you're going to get." - a colleague

"Have you started cleaning the baseboards yet? That's going to happen, you know, right there at the end." - same colleague

"Can you drink that? I didn't think you were supposed to drink any caffeine when you're pregnant." - a colleague

"Are you supposed to eat that?"

"Oh, I knew someone with that name once. He was such a little shit."

"It's a boy." - everyone

"Wow. You're six months? You're really big. I wasn't showing at all when I was six months." - a hostess at a restaurant

"Wow. You're hardly showing at all. I was so much bigger than you when I was that far along." - a colleague

"Send me a picture of you pregnant!" - multiple people

"I want some pictures of you all swelled up." - my dad

La Chambre de Bebe

.
Bringing home baby furniture should always be a joyous occasion. Watching your man putting the crib together, assembling it, moving it around to find the perfect spot in the room that you picked out for your little one, finally seeing your vision being put into play – all things that brought a huge smile to this future mom’s face when it happened.

It was the trip home with the furniture that wasn’t so joyous.

We waited until the Sunday before my baby shower, one of the few sunny days until that point, to pick it up from the store. Drove the truck over there, paid off the layaway, waited while they brought the furniture to the front, and I waited in the truck while they loaded it up. Hottie had more sense and watched them load it up. Or attempt to load it up, I should say. The overweight, older white guy lost his grip at one point and dropped the dresser while trying to lift it into the bed of the truck. The three guys were struggling to load the three pieces into the bed of the truck in an order that would keep the pieces safe while en route. Obviously, they’ve never worked in the logistics field or loaded a container. Hottie made a couple of suggestions to improve their disorganization, and finally we were loaded up and on our way home.

We pulled up to the light to exit the parking lot. Turned left when the light turned green. And heard a big thump as the dresser tumbled over the side of the truck.

“Oh, shit!” I yelled, swiveling around to look in the back of the truck and side mirror only to see our dresser, wrapped in the packaging and box, sitting in the middle of the intersection.

The truck behind us swerved around the box. Hottie pulled into the gas station at the corner and raced to get the crate out of the lane. He picked up one end, tilted it, and slammed it down on the other side in order to navigate it out of the intersection. I swung out of the truck, hurriedly waddled my way over to the box, intent on helping.

“Get back, babe.” Hottie struggled to lift the box over the lip of the road at the curb. “You’re not going to be able to help.”

I stood there, hugely pregnant, unable to do anything

The light changed and cars zoomed around him. One white car came within inches and had Hottie turning in the middle of the road to yell after the car, “What? You can’t wait five seconds, asshole?”

Obviously, the driver was urgently racing to the hospital in order to perform emergency heart surgery on someone.

And then our Good Samaritan arrived. He pulled into the gas station, hopped out of his car in a full three piece suit at two o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, raced over to Hottie and they lifted the box with the dresser over the lip, across the gas station parking lot, and into the bed of the truck.

Wherever you are, Good Samaritan, God bless you!

.

Beau's Yearly Checkup

Hottie: I’m never taking Beau to the vet again. From now on, you have to do it.

Me: Why? What happened?

Hottie: It’s your responsibility to take him from now on.

Me: Okay, but what happened?

Hottie: He’s obese! I have to walk him everyday for thirty minutes and cut his food down by 25%.

Me: (Laughing)

Hottie: It’s not funny! This is serious. He’s also got tartar on his teeth and one of his ears has wax in it.

Me: (Laughing)

Hottie: They made me leave that place with ear solution! An extra $25!

Me: (Laughing)

Hottie: You’re no help. I’m not ever taking him again.

Me: Okay, okay, I’ll take him from now on.

Hottie: Come here, Beau. Come here, Chunky Monkey.

Me: What are you doing?

Hottie: I’m going to put him in the truck, so we can get out of here.

Me: What do you mean, you’re going to put him in the truck? Like carry him to the truck?

Hottie: Yes. I don’t want him to get his paws wet. It’s still raining.

Special

Hottie: Carter Blood Bank called me!

Me: Really? Why?

Hottie: Haven't you ever given blood before?

Me: Well, no.

Hottie: You haven't? Why not?

Me: I just never got around to it.

Hottie: Oh. Well, they called me. They want me to donate.

Me: Cool. You must have that blood type that's really common and can be used on anyone.

Hottie: What? Why do I have to be common? Why can't my blood type be special? Maybe I'm the only person in the whole world who has my blood type and that's why they want me to donate!

Me: That must be it, babe.

Hottie Has 'Em Fooled

Everyone thinks Hottie's a strict disciplinarian. That he lacks patience. I could go on, but what would be the point?

Hottie has 'em all fooled.

Why? You ask. Let me tell you about Beau.

Beau decided to adopt us in June 2006. Okay, we may have driven about an hour to go and get him, but Hottie was the one who declared, "If I have to drive all the way over there, then I'm not leaving empty handed!" And, so we didn't. We left the small house in Mansfield in under an hour with a flea-ridden, worm invested, little black shadow that we named Beau the following day. A more friendly black and tan cocker spaniel we have yet to encounter.

For all of Hottie's complaining about the cost of this little fur ball with a personality the size of Everest, for all of his complaints about having to take him outside to potty, for all of his moaning that Beau is going to make him broke, for all of his trying to foist Beau off on another unsuspecting family, Hottie doesn't have me fooled.

Nope. No, siree, Hottie doesn't have me fooled a bit.

Not when he took two sides of a dog biscuit, slapped some peanut butter in the middle, and made Beau peanut butter biscuit sandwiches. Not when he lets Beau out in the front yard every morning to potty because "Beau likes it better than the backyard." Not when he calls me at work, puts Beau on speaker phone and they both sing to me to brighten my day. Not when he's outside mowing the yard when I arrive home from work and Beau is sitting in the car, AC on full blast, because "he was getting hot, Mom."

Nope. Hottie doesn't have me fooled. Not one bit.

Ode to Hottie

Well, here I am: 30 weeks preggo, looking down at my belly, wondering how on earth I've gotten to this point. I know the physics of it, obviously, but seriously, how is it possible for a stomach to protude so much from a body? Will it ever go back into place? I've been assured by my girlfriends who've gone through this experience that it will.

I think they're lying to me.

How did it come to this? Believe it or not, I asked for it. I know, I know, what was I thinking? But here I am, unable to move backwards and scared to death to move forward. Like I really have an option at this point.

It all started with the helicopter on September 19th. Now, I'm not going to go into details, but suffice to say, by September 20th, I could tell something was a "not quite right." I debated with myself for about a week, thinking I was wrong, before I broke down and took a test. It came up negative. My first thought "Hmmf. That's wrong." So, I decided do a little research online that week, and lo and behold, the test won't even pick up the correct hormone until the second or the third week.

Hottie started having symptoms soon after. Poor thing starting feeling a little nauseous. Even texted me on Oct 7th - "I feel sick to my stomach. I think you might have a baby in your belly." Now keep in mind, not once did I mention that I thought I was in the money, so to speak. Hottie never gets sick. Hasn't been sick the entire time that I've known him. And now he's feeling nauseous?

Hmmm...my sense of smell was suddenly that of a vampire's. Now, last I checked I wasn't living in Forks, Washington.

I bought another test. Snuck it into the house while he was browsing the 'net. Peed on the stick.

Waited. Waited. Waited.

Oh shit.

Into the Modern Age

Well, I finally did it. I started my own blog. I'm not sure if it was VA's blog that inspired me or the woman from dooce.com on Oprah who said that she's earning a cool $40K a month on advertising, or simply a creative outlet to bleed my thoughts onto the page. Either way you look at it, here I am. Proudly moving into the current century.

Way to go, me!