Random....I think it is Saturday.

Miqui..."Why aren't you blogging?"
"Because I'm busy eating bon-bons and watching my soaps."
But then later in the conversation she gave me a better response. It is my new go-to. For everything and everyone.
"Fescue!!!"
Oh, the horticulture humor. Bwahahahaha!

If you have to ask why I haven't been blogging then you have not visited my home in the last month. My every two hour nursing newborn is the easy one. No, really. She is. I cleaned raisins out of the soap dispenser in the dishwasher. Porkchop thought he would help. The last thing I need is more help. Last night on our walk Scrunch chastised the speed of my walking across the street. "Mom, you're going very slow and then a car will come and squish us flat like a ladybug. My Papa will be very upset with you."

Grami? She's no help either. She just encourages them because in her words, "They are funny little bugs!" Actually, she's been a great help. As of tomorrow I will be on my own and I will go back to blogging at weird hours of the night or middle of the afternoon because no one will be enforcing my naps.

I am a walking wardrobe malfunction. The worst public nurser ever! I can't figure out if it's because I don't care who and what they see, or if it's because I really do care. At any rate, I suck at it (teehee) and my current wardrobe is not really designed for it. And you're thinking, "All you do is lift your shirt up." If only it was that easy! This morning I pulled on a long sweater dress and then realized that I was practically going to have to disrobe every two hours.

I haven't been this awkward in my own body since seventh grade- when everything in life was awkward. Scrunch was a super help there as well when last week she asked me, "So..how did the squishy zebra get in your tummy?" That's what Aunt Goose came up with to describe the post-partum racing tracks and squishy-ness that accompanies it. Aw, crap! I just realized my kid is expecting me to birth a zoo right around Christmas time.

The reasons are many and the gag order has not yet been lifted so the short version is...I put Ani on a plane yesterday and sent her to Texas to live with Aunt E.

Zero budget Relief Society Activity needing centerpieces. No problem. But think bigger. Pickle jar bigger. All lined up on my counter. I hope it works. If I can keep a couple of kids, a dog, and cat alive I think I can grow wheat grass. Well, I can't really take credit for the cat. That's Husband's department.

Thank you Pinterest for the picture.

This is what our Saturday looks like...

Ma boys watching videos on YouTube about building antennas for a ham radio. At least it's not Toy Story 3 for the thousanth time???

Scrunch is in the front room playing ponies and putting her babies to sleep.

Baby is sleeping.

And you already know I'm busy with the bonbons and soaps. Juuuuust kidding. It's not the soaps. It's Pinterest. For the record, I still don't know for sure what a bonbon is. I think its a Hostess-like pastry. My mom thinks it's in the freezer section with the ice cream. I'm headed to Winco here in a minute and will let you know for sure.

Random Friday Stuff

I plead hormonal insanity, if that is a legal plea. If it is not, it should be.

Want to read something funny...it was my sister.

"So um... I know who marked "lame". It was me. But I didn't mean "what you wrote was lame." I meant that you have to go through the crap is lame. You know like...wow, that is lamesauce shit and I am really sorry you have to go through it. Next time I check a box I will be more clear. Oh, and please apologize to John for me. I am sure he got an earful over this... I know Jordan would have. :)"


At least now you know not to cross the Mayor. She'll get craaaaazy on you. But not so crazy as to be able to see Russia from here. That chick still has me beat.

Santa came early. He's a swell guy. He even bought me a laptop so I could work more hours from the comfort of my bed to help pay for it all. Just kidding. I love Santa. And the goodies.

I had this weird, outta body/deja vu experience where for a few minutes I became my mother and became extraordinarily giddy over a steam mop. It even makes me want to clean the garage floors tomorrow. If I can walk. I cleaned the garage today. It was disgusting.

Do we like my $5.00 Christmas mantle or what? Dollar Tree pine cones, ribbon from the dress up box, Dollar Tree Styrofoam, garland from forever ago, green glitter floral picks at 70% off, stockings out of all scraps including an old fuzzy pillow case, and jute twine from The Home Depot. OK, so maybe $7.50, but next year it will be free. It needs more, but Christmas is in seven days.

I got the Legos out for Porkchop for the first time today. He did not try to eat them. I was so proud. Then he ran himself over with the bicycle trailer with his sister in it. I could write an entire blog with daily entries of the kid's bumps and bruises.

I could write an entire blog about the things his sister says. Maybe I should. A few of this week's highlights include...

• Shouting "Police! Police!" in the Post Office parking lot when I buckled her in her carseat. 
• "Wait! Mom! Don't leave. I need to practice." "What do you need to practice?" "Hopping on one foot." "Why?" "What if I turn into a kangaroo?"
• "Mom, I don't think robots have bums."
• "When's my birthday?" "It's coming up soon." "What's the name of it?" "January 26th." "That's just like last year!!"

Tomorrow I'm going to address our Christmas cards.

Friday Random

It's the most wonderful time of the year. I've downloaded two audio books. The Dove Keepers and Little Bee, for twenty hours of listening pleasure while I sit at the sewing machine and turn out four costumes. Hint: Cowabunga Dude!!

I would love to get to these this weekend.

In the spirit of full disclosure you should know that I am much better at planning menus than carrying them out. We had Del Taco one night after going to get our eyebrows waxed and Husband and I had Chili's for date night while the kids and Miqui got enchiladas. They were good leftovers though and I fully endorse the shrimp tacos at Chilis.

Scrunch wanted to go in with me while I got my brows waxed. I learned my lesson. Playing 20 Questions with a three year old during a wax job is torture certain government agencies should consider.

Scrunch has been full of all sorts of little comments and conversations lately. I need to write a post about them so I don't forget. As a reminder to myself.. she asked me if the Milkmans moved out of my nipples and told me the GPS lady didn't know what she was talking about. 

Don't buy real pumpkins. Porkchop thinks they should bounce. They don't.

My husband is going to be so excited to find out that I would like the new bunkbeds I got on Amazon put together this weekend. At least he will be if he reads my blog. He should really read my blog before he comes home, just so he's not taken by surprise. I think a Saturday football game is a perfect time to put together bunkbeds, don't you?

I wish my HOA would let me have chickens.

Random Friday

I jumped from Woot Worthy Wednesdays to Random Fridays. Has all the creativity in blogging been sucked out out of me? Pretty much. But not just blogging. Cooking, cleaning and dinner time have also gone the way of the Dodo. How creative do you have to be to come up with In n Out for dinner?

The nice camera, that I don't know how to use properly (yet), was sent halfway around the world this morning. Less than twelve hours later I'm seriously regretting it because I would have liked to capture Porkchop eating his very first In n Out burger. He ate almost the whole thing. Porker. Oh, and on the very same day he signed "more" consistently. Funny porker.

I don't know where we store the cat food. Problem? Not for me. I'm still really, really, really ticked off at that stupid piece of feline crap. And PETA? Go ahead. Report me. They can kiss my lily white too, if what they say is true. Apparently, according to my sources, I am A #1 in their book. At least on a really, really bad Mother of the Year Award Day where I sit in the parking lot of McDonalds at 10:26am pleading for the next four minutes to be sucked out of life in a time warp so I can get some blasted chicken nuggets, I will always have that I have done my part. I mean it really was so,so, so nice of us adopt a child. We have done our part to "curb our reproductive habits". They are giving away a free vasectomy in honor of National Infertility Awareness Week. When it was pointed out to them that maybe, just maybe, it might be at least a less than awesome idea their response was..."While we recognize that infertility is a difficult issue for many people, we continue to support adoption of human children and companion animals alike. With nearly 7 billion people on the planet, and a crisis of vanishing resources, it is crucial-- for humans and animals -- that we curb our reproductive habits." PETA insensitive? Well, knock me over with a feather!

And only because my husband might read this, and he's got enough on his mind at the moment, the cat is fine. I know he's got a lot on his mind because I get all the e-mails from Amazon and the Kindle downloads. The list was eclectic to say the least and made me laugh.

"Mom. It's a problem."
"What's the problem?"
"Cheepies come from eggs. And eggs come from cheepies."
The age old question has been asked by my Scrunch at a very young age.

Because I try to sometimes practice what I preach, I sat down tonight to compare my bill from the hospital to my insurance recap. Health literacy! Bwahaha! I sat through an entire training on breaking down barriers to people taking control of their healthcare this week. Funny idea! I have one solid solution....Don't print hospital bills or insurance recaps in Latin. Or whatever dead language that was. I didn't take an advanced degree in Aeronautics Design Engineering to realize that our insurance premiums that we've paid for the last eight years, even when we had nothing and were working our way through as a wait staff in a restaurant, has been totally worth it! Holy Crap-a-dilly! If some little punk punches my Porkchop in the nose during a Church Ball brawl I'm going to have to rip his arms off! My little dudes face will be worth more than my house. Rising healthcare costs?! Bwahaha! There's another one!

"Mom, can you play hide and seek with me?"

"In a few minutes. Mommy needs to pump and then we'll play."

"I need Papa to buy me a pink pump so I can pump pink milk from my body."

Another Mother of the Year Award moment. My daughter knows what "pink" milk is. Is this where I confess to my love Strawberry Milk that incorporates itself into every one of my celebrations or to a few too many viewings of Pinkalicious on the Ipad?

Happy Friday! At least I think it's Friday. All the days kind of start running together when there is no open and close of the garage door to mark the beginning and end of your day. Oh, yes. We've all noticed that Papa is not home yet.

Right Here. Right Now.

Is it Friday? Not yet. Dang. Remember when I used to do Random Fridays? Well, guess what? I'm not just random on Fridays.

I think if you get a tattoo on your face you're an idiot. I mean, I love me a good tattoo. I really, really do. But on your face? You're an idiot.

I've been accused of raising a feminist. I was all worked up talking at my husband. Scrunch climbed up on the stool next to me and patted my shoulder, "It's okay mom. He doesn't understand. He's just a boy."

I cannot get behind St. Patrick's Day. Usually I'm an all out sucker for an excuse to dress up, but I don't know...isn't it kind of a sad statement on our society that adults need an excuse to get absolutely plastered on a Thursday evening? And it's not even the good stuff. Getting wasted on green colored pee. Don't get it.

Oh, and go ahead. Pinch me. I dare ya. Ya bunch of green whackadoodles.

You are never really alone. Not really. Even when you decide to pluck your eyebrows with your thumb and first finger in the rear view mirror while you wait in the drive thru for a Dr. Pepper, extra ice. Oh yeah. That would be an entire packed dining room at Del Taco that can see you. Just a heads up.

All it takes is a palatoplasty to lite a fire under my slacker-knitter butt. Ishbel has been cast off and will be blocked tomorrow. I had to wait to get rid of the guest room bed because I needed it to block my Hemlock ring. I had the mattress laying flat in the empty dining room. Two hundred pins later it was left to dry. I thought I also blocked the entrance to the dining room. When I went to check on the progress a few hours later I found Ani curled up in a ball on my still wet Hemlock Ring and pins EVERYWHERE. My Craigslist add is going to list the bed for $25.00 bucks. I'm throwing the dog in for free.

I am somewhere between, "I must remain calm. I must not overreact." (Name that Disney reference you smarty pants.) And "Holy freaken' cow!!!!! I am not ready for this!"

I'm calm. Totally calm, cool, and collected.

A little help here!

This is going to be fine. He's going to be fine. I know. Of course he's going to be fine. He gets the pain pills, anesthesia, and everything else he needs. It's Mom who gets nada.

Hmmm. Will I feel better if I stick the pins in Ani? No. Bad idea. I retract that last statement before I am reported to PETA. They're a bunch of green wackadoodles too. Oops. Better retract that, too.

If you happen find a little green leprechaun, make a wish for me. I wish for an endless supply of fresh from the fountain Dr. Peppers with extra ice. And only because I don't think I can show my face at that Del Taco for a while.

Naked and Hairless

After today, I have the green light on pushing the kid through the chute. Don't hold your breath though, I've still got two weeks (plus or minus a couple of days) and about fourteen projects in my knitting queu to go before we're really ready to be a family of four. Four! Holy Shmoly we've doubled! Four means we can be the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for Halloween!

Four calls for four appointments.

There is no way around it. Whether natural, or through adoption, or dropped straight from the moon, in order for me to parent someone is going to make me clean my house. The Midwives are coming today for my "home inspection". Not really much of an inspection, just making sure we've got all the goods. (That statement implies so much more than you know.)

If they weren't so creepy looking I'd have a hairless dog. Creepy or not, hairless is good. If you've known me for any length of time, you know I'd like to be hairless. I hate hair. Anywhere. I have an appt. this afternoon for a bikini and brow. I'm trying a new girl and while almost as exciting as dressing up as TMNT, I'm still a little nervous. Please add her to your morning prayers. It would be most inconvenient for me should she have an off day today.

Add Rhonda to the list while you're add it. I'm sure you don't have anything in your life that needs tending to. Spend the day praying that my hair stylist is in her groove, too. I'm hacking it. Short. Short. short. 

And just because I'm in the mood to brag a wee little bit, I'm seeing Carrie the Masseuse tomorrow. Is that the Hallelujah choir I hear? 

I will not be adding pictures when I find my camera cord. I know exactly where my camera cord is. While naked and hairless might be my dream come true, I realize it might not be for everyone. Thank your lucky stars for that.

Alibi

You can get away with anything when you're pregnant. You just blame being pregnant and Whalah! It is amazing.

"How are you feeling?" And in my head I'm thinking, "I'm fine. I'm just lazy." But people don't usually say, "I'm a lazy arse who didn't feel like doing anything today, so I didn't." No one blinks an eye. "Oh, you must be tired because you're pregnant." Um, okay. Yeah. Why didn't I think of that?

I am a big eater. Huge even. I regularly finish my Husband's meals whether we're at home or go out to eat. It might be a little overwhelming to some people the mass quantities of food I can consume and not change in shape. But now? No one bats an eye. "Oh, how cute! Preggo just consumed a bathtub's worth of Panda Express! She's eating for two, you know." Um, okay. Yeah. Why didn't I think of that? When in reality I've always been a pig.

"You must be tired." So, a friend with four kids offers, "Why don't you let me take Scrunch so you can take a nap this week?" It took everything in me not to shout "Hell Yeah!!!" But come on? Tired? Raise your hand if you're not tired. That's what I thought. 

My point is...I totally forgot my point.

I forget everything these days. That is not an excuse, it's a scientific fact. Hormones make women's brains mushy. My sister told me about a study she read.

Oh, yes. My point. My point is you can get away with anything. I'm just sorry I didn't figure it out sooner. It will not however prevent the crochety Volunteer PD officer from giving you a ridiculous ticket. I so wish I had jumped out of the car and burst into hysterics rather than eat the $250 bucks. A story for another day.

How many stories do I owe you now? I forget.

What I'm Loving or Made Me Laugh (Today)

Buh- Bye builder beige. Hello Bengay.

You could get a sunburn sitting in my kitchen year round. I love that. Maybe because I'm a Leo.

The kitchen has been painted and is now re-taped awaiting a re-paint job. I am more in love with this green.

The friend's Facebook update proclaiming this as the most WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR! Girl Scout cookies being sold now!

I told Scrunch to put her toys away so we could shower. We go and I'm about to stick her in the shower with me when she points to my belly and tells me, "Put your ball away!"

Fingerpuppets. I'm wishing I'd made more so Scrunch could keep a couple.

The e-mail in my Spam. From- Mr. Steamy. Subject- Removes wrinkles instantly. So wrong on so many levels and yet so funny.

What are you loving or made you laugh today? (I'd love a good roomie story here Miq. Or a crazy student story Jess. Or a crazy anything anyone.)

A post where I talk about which song I want played at my funeral and the house I'd like to buy.

I like routine. It gives me control. And there's no doubt I like to have control. Me. My routine. My kid. My life. Anything and everything that enters within a mile of my personal space.

In the morning we get up, I plop the kid in her highchair, turn on the music, and write blog posts in my head while I clean the kitchen and do the dishes.

Last week I purposely disrupted my routine and took a much needed trip South to get away for minute. Then we got back and I haven't done the dishes in a few days, hence no blog posts. No wonderful grandiose adventures here- just haven't done the dishes. Oy, that's sad. What's the point? If I wait long enough I'll just need to start packing anyway. How soon is too soon to move into the 'paper plate and Subway everyday of the week' phase of moving?

But back to my routine.

It usually includes music in the morning. I can usually tell my current mental health state by the Pandora station I'm listening to. I like a little Enya in the morning with my breakfast. A cup of tea and Enya EVERY morning would be perfect. I know. How about a little Enya, a cup of tea on MY BACK PORCH every morning? And maybe a hammock or a swing. I like a little Queen or Abba or while I clean. Frankie in the evenings while making dinner. And just about everything else in between.

For a week now I've noticed that my "Pink" station has been playing A LOT. My favorite song? "Bitch" by Meredith Brooks. I l. o. v. e. this song. If I had a theme song, this would be it. I would like it played at my funeral. Yes, for my funeral I would like you all to have a nice steak and listen to this song. Angry chick music I believe it's called. I'm not an angry chick, just a little on edge these days. Some chicks make a living being "edgy".

By this afternoon I hope to have moved on to my Bubblegum Oldies. It's for happy music. The kind of music you play when you're not in limbo anymore and you have written acceptance on the offer you've placed on a second house. The house that your husband says if you move in, you're never going to leave. No pressure. Just a ten year plan for a couple who has never had a two year plan, much less a "let's move here and never leave" plan.

I'm not the only one on edge around here. I'd like to take a look at his play list.

Blogging buds, meet house #2.

Pros:
On a cul de sac
The additional square footage as compared to the other home is in my closet and the laundry room.

Cons:
We can't move in tomorrow.

If you come back later and I've posted a little Elvis "happy music" then we're good. If not, you'll know we're singing the Blues.

It is my nature.

I have two speeds. On or off. There is little in between. And when I'm on, I hit it at sound barrier speed and don't usually stop until I either reach my intended destination or crash headlong into a brick wall. I then have to stop and regroup or hit it high speed in another and sometimes opposite direction. It's just how I roll. It's all or nothing. Black or white. And anything in between frustrates the hell out of me. I don't do waiting. I don't do patience. I can't help it, it's just my nature.

Random Friday- A Tidbit from my Husband

Last night I called Husband 15 minutes before he normally gets home and said, "You need to come home right now. I'm hungry."

Later he told me, "You're Beauty and the Beast. Depending on what side of the meal you're on." Seeing as it was close to dessert, he lived to laugh about it.

Like I need another excuse.

Now I have a sore throat.

Here's me wallowing in self pity.

Friday Random: Q and A Style

I never know if I should answer questions from the comments in a comment or if they are simply rhetorical. At any rate, it adds to the randomness of my Friday posts.

Question 1- "Is that just your insurance or most insurance in general?"
Answer: In my experience insurance companies vary widely on what they will and will not cover when it comes to fertility treatments. Many are coming along and are starting to cover more and more. If I had an accompanying medical condition such as PCOS, endometriosis, etc then it would be easier for me to prove that there was an underlying medical condition. Unfortunately we fall into the camp of "unexplained" so I have to dig up medical records to prove "medical necessity".

Question 2- "What moron decided that infertility was elective?"
Answer: I don't know but when I find him (and I agree it was definitely a 'him'), I'm going to rip his arms off and beat him with them.

Question 3- "Does this mean that you're starting fertility treatments?"
Answer: I have been pursuing one form or another of fertility treatments for four years. Most of my "treatments" have been considered alternative such as herbal supplementation, transdermal hormone replacement, acupuncture, etc. Most recently I have done a round of Clomid with HCG trigger shot. Fertility treatments are not a one size fits all process, and take a long time. (Not the treatment themselves but because it's all based on waiting for your cycles, timing, blah, blah, blah.) I'm not a candidate for certain treatments because you have to be able to find what's wrong before you can fix it. I respond very well to treatments, but that doesn't mean I stay pregnant.

Question 4. "You should publish a book." That wasn't a question, but the statement made me laugh.
Answer: A whole book? That's a lot of spewing. I will admit that I have been in the brainstorming process to submit an article to a magazine. And now that I've said it out loud, I think I'm committed. The IFC has joked about a collaborative writing effort entitled, "At Least I Have A Working Anus."

Questions 5. "Are you going to get her hair done more often now that you are growing yours out?"
Answer: No, just her bangs. But I do have my hair in a pony tail today. I don't think it counts as an up-do because of the number of bobby pins that are holding it there, but we're getting closer. August 6th I can cut it, if I want to. I told my husband I'd give it till my birthday.

Question 6. "Have you ever tried a rag quilt?"
Answer: Yes, but I'm not a fan. I've done a few for quick gifts and charity but for personal use I'm not a fan. They just aren't my style (purely personal preference). They make great, FAST gifts, though.

Question 7. "Did you really make that hat? Can you share some (talent)?"
Answer: Yes, I made Scrunch's hat. Can I share? Yes, but seriously folks, it's not rocket science. I'm not even that good. Honest. Go on-line and search. Etsy is full of people who can call themselves artists and have talent. It's about not being afraid to try new things/projects. I (obviously) don't take pictures of things that don't work out. And I don't play the piano or sing. Those are talents. This is stuff to kill time and relax.

Anything else you'd like to know?