Less Than Gandhi.

Here's something you might not know: Matt is smart.  He's like sickeningly, ridiculously smart.  He reads like fifty books to my one, and he's rational and insightful and seems to know, well, everything.  And if he doesn't know it, he goes and reads a whole book about it and then knows it.  He can even do math!  I, on the other hand, fall asleep after reading one article in Entertainment Weekly, am occasionally lacking in the rational thinking department, and was told by my college advisor that my "math scores reflect the English major in [me]."  Shoot.

Now, don't get me wrong.  I'm thrilled to have a smart husband, and I really like it when I can just ask him about something (Arab Spring?) and he can explain it in a way that I can easily understand it (because he's basically Mama to my Forrest Gump).  But sometimes it's annoying to always be the dumb one, or to only be able to contribute to trivia contests if the category is 90210 or cities that have hosted the Olympics.

So Matt knows everything, which is simultaneously fantastic and annoying.  When he was a kid, though, he took an IQ test (which I may have already mentioned here at some point), but he never received a definitive score because while he was off the charts on everything linguistic and rational and whatnot, when it came to anything spatial he scored slightly lower than Mitch would.

Matt doesn't understand shapes.

Anyway, last night we were creepin' on Chloe's Facebook page--oh wait! Time for some awesome pictures lifted from her page--

Hufflepuff.

--and Matt saw an old status of hers that said, "i <3 gandhi."  Matt was confused.

Matt:  I less than three Gandhi?  Chloe is less than three Gandhis?

Idiot.

This and That

Well, I've been such a slackass here because, well, I don't think that you have much interest in my recounting every detail of the last 8 episodes of Brothers & Sisters that I've watched, and because I'm not really baking or ice creaming lately because I'm afraid of making the fetus one of record-breaking giganticness, and because, well, I'm beat.

But life has been good lately, and here's what's keeping me smiling these days.

1.  Sometimes when I'm bored in the car, I stare at the ends of my hair and then pull the gray ones out.  The other day I pulled out a really long hair that was half-gray and half-brown.  But here's the thing: it started off gray and then turned brown!  So, basically what I'm telling you is that I'm Benjamin Button. In about 15 years I'll be the same age as my spawn!

2.  Boardwalk Empire.  Oh, Nucky!  (Maybe I had a very disturbing dream about Nucky Thompson during which we were more than friends?)  I love that show with my heart and soul, and it makes me want to cut my hair short and drink gin and break the law.

3.  Modern Family.  Who's your favorite character?  Mine's Phil, probably because he's the most Ross-Gellar-like.  Matt loves Luke.

4.  Mitch keeps laughing because he says that the baby's going to have to sleep in a crate while he sleeps in the big bed.

5.  Macaroni and cheese from the Publix deli.  Yeah, it doesn't do much on the "not making the baby gigantic" front, but it's so delicious that it makes me feel like the kid could weight 20 lbs. at birth and I wouldn't care.

6.  Sweatpants.  Oh, sweatpants.

7.  The elliptical.  I've been an ellipting machine lately.  A MACHINE!  Since the first trimester was basically a breeze for me, I have this fear that the third will be hell on earth.  So, in an effort to build up my core muscles like a sombitch so that I will be less uncomfortable come February, and in an effort to become less fat so that I don't break scales and have to wear tarps as clothing, I've been ellipting almost every day.  It's paying off, too.  It's also carving out extra calorie space for Publix deli macaroni and cheese.

8.  Hearing Matt in the other room while watching Survivor just say loudly to the TV, "Kill yourself."  Apparently this season's survivors are particularly loathsome.

9.  The fact that the writing test is over.  Yes, I am giant-stacks-of-essays free for a good number of months now. And my kiddies felt pretty confident.  Fingers crossed for 8-12 weeks until we get the results!

10.  Beautiful, crisp, window-open Saturdays.  I heart October.

With that, I've got some sweatpants to don, some macaroni and cheese to inhale, some Brothers & Sisters to watch, a dog and husband to snuggle with, and no essays to grade.

Hope your weekend is lovelier than reverse aging!

It's a _____!

So, remember how I told you the baby was massive?

Well, last week when we were at our ultrasound, at 12 weeks and 5 days for you detail-oriented folk, Blast was measuring ten days ahead, and I made the comment to Matt that if it was going to be that big, then I hoped it was a boy because I would feel guilty bringing some kind of amazon girl into the world.

And the ultrasound lady--who is amazing, by the way--just whipped her magic little noise wand around and said, "Well, there you go, then."  (Also, she had a pretty thick Southern accent.)  "Oh yeah, there you've got a little penis, and a scrotum. . .Oh, I'm gonna go ahead and call this one."  And then she typed in "It's a boy!!!!"*

Well, I'll be damned!

Cassie spelled out boy on the cake with nuts.  He he he.

Here's the part where I would put up a picture of the goods, but Matt says we shouldn't put that on the internet, and I think that's probably just good life advice.  So here's a picture I stole from the internet instead of a whale and some words.

Anyway, it's a boy.  A giant, hulking boy.  Matt's excited to take him camping and to talk to him about nerdy boy stuff like comic books and Dungeons and Dragons and sports.  I'm excited because I don't have to worry about him getting pregnant or becoming a stripper.




*Truth?  I initially wanted a girl because I have a certain fondness for bitchy older sisters, but when I found out it was a boy I was nothing but happy and excited.  And now, whenever I see a bitchy teenage girl, I just think about how lucky I am to be having a boy.  Plus, our first-born is a boy, so I feel like I know what I'm doing a little more with males.


******Baby, if you are reading this far, far in the future.  I hope you did not become pregnant unless it was part of a really awesome scientific experiment.  Also, be glad that you don't have parents who put naked pictures of you on the internet.  Those people are called child pornographers.******

Weekend Fun

What a fun couple of days it's been!  Even though the weather was a little more thunderstormy than my favorite pup would like, it's been just lovely and cozy inside.  I'm still trying to fight off the lingering effects of this, the cold from hell, so maybe I drank a couple of gallons of Simply Grapefruit juice?  But it doesn't matter because we had laughs, and bolognese in the freezer, and new fall TV to watch, and good shopping scores, and friends, and a clean house, and enough motivation to knock out a huge stack of essays that absolutely had to be graded by Monday morning.  The laundry's done, the floors are as clean as they're going to be, considering that it's storming outside (and I absolutely refuse to mop when it's raining), the papers graded, and the fridge is full of restaurant leftovers.

Oh, and the Buffalo Bills beat the Patriots, which hasn't happened, apparently, since before the Civil War.  It is, in our household, a VERY BIG DEAL and my husband will tell you over and over again just how big a deal it is.  Oh, and I'm winning my fantasy football league (a league that I've done absolutely nothing for except for check to see if I'm winning--thank you super fantasy football husband!).  

Here's what it looked like.

Raining while the sun is shining.  You know what that means, right?  The devil is beating his wife.  

By the way, who would even marry the devil? 

Getting nervous. 

 At this point I was pretty sure the Bills were going to choke and that Matt was going to be in a 

bad mood for the rest of the night.

Would you look at that?  Pretty cold in hell right now. 

 Most hilarious gang tag vandalism thing.  Oh, you thought it was about lemon and lime?  Well, you were wrong.  

This one's all about hatred and bitterness.

The happiest Bills fan.

Sweet baby gifts from a friend.  Mitch is pretty sure he's going to steal that elephant when the time is right.

Right now I'm off to ellipt whilst watching Amazing Race, and Breaking Bad.  I love fall TV!  I do not love crazy dreams where I am involved with the drug cartel and accidentally to blame for lots of deaths and/or murders.  More on that later.  I blame The Blast.

Happy fall to you!  

This and That: The With Child Edition

I totes promise that not every post is going to be about this stuff, but I haven't been able to talk about it for two months, so I've got some things to share, some questions to answer.

1.  At first, I was really afraid to sneeze because I thought I'd sneeze out The Blast.  I'm starting to get less afraid of that now.

2.  I really, really, really miss wine and margaritas.  Maybe that makes me a big ol' lush, but I don't care.  When Matt gets a margarita when we go to Mexico, I just huff it and pretend that I am feeling its leg tingling effects.  Then I look down and say something sweet and maternal through gritted teeth along the lines of, "You had better be so smart and so cute."

See you in April, old friend.

3.  Oh, I'm 13 weeks along.  Blast is due on March 28, which is the day after my birthday.  I'm really selfishly afraid that it's going to steal my birthday.  I am shooting for an April 1 birthday because I think that would make for fun future birthday parties, and because I want my birthday to come first.  Also, no, this is not one long joke.

4.  I haven't had morning sickness at all, and I'm hoping that I'm in the clear on that one.  I have been tired as a mofo, but that's pretty much how I am anyway, so it hasn't been all that different.  Oh, and food cravings, I have those, too.  But, again, kind of like me in non-pregnant form.  Crying easily?  Duh.  So, yeah, basically I have spent my entire adult life pregnant in the first trimester, except that I could drink wine and jump on trampolines and go in hot tubs and do street drugs.*

5.  Sometimes it just seems boring to only have a chance of having a boy or a girl.  What if it could be a polar bear, or a cheetah, or an American Dingo??!!  Matt says that would actually suck because then you'd run the risk that it could be a cockroach or something gross like that.  He kind of has a point there.  But what about an elephant?  Nope--too long without wine.  Human boy or girl will be fine, I suppose.

6.  Our office room looks like a baby store!  More on that later.  By the way, they make so much crap for babies.  It's really overwhelming.

7.  Yes, we're hoping that Mitch doesn't eat it.

8.  The name will not start with an M.  Our name alliteration was unintentional, and I'm nervous about people thinking we're like the Duggars or something.  And, unfortunately, we're probably not going with any WTF initials, even though that would be SO AWESOME.  Wouldn't you love it if you could initial things WTF? Or get monogrammed towels that said WTF?  Amazing.  Maybe we'll have to rethink that one?

9.  I don't know if we'll change the name of the blog or not.  Can I just add a plus to it and make it like an equation or something?  I don't know, though.  I'm not very mathy.  If you've got ideas, let me know.

10.  Got an ultrasound at 10 weeks and thought that perhaps I was growing a young Voldemort.

11.  This kid is huge.  Huge, I tell you!  I'm really afraid of giant babies because I watched my mom birth my 10 pound 14 ounce brother at some hippie natural birthing center when I was 4.  I've always known that there was a chance that I would have a giant, Weekly World News kind of kid, which is one of the many reasons I resisted this whole pregnant thing for so long.  At our first appointment, Blast measured 4 days ahead.  At the second, 5.  At the latest appointment, Blast was measuring 10 days ahead, which is, well, huge.  So maybe it's not a Voldemort so much as it's a Hagrid?

And with all that said, we couldn't be happier, and we can't wait to meet and then groom a little human to be way more awesome than either of its parents.


*One of the lists of what I couldn't eat or drink or do now mentioned that I should be avoiding street drugs.  Oh, shoot.  No more angel dust for me, I suppose.**


**That is a joke.  I only do heroin.***


***Also a joke.

Human Reproduction

Oh, internet.  We've totally been holding out on you.

This spring, Matt and I are going to have a human.  A giant, giant, hot dog and macaroni and cheese eating human.  Well, we'll both have it in terms of ownership.  I'm the one who actually has to birth it have it, though.  (Cue freaked out face.)

For real.  I know.  I can hardly believe it, either.

But check out the inside of my uterus.  Here's our little Blast (short for blastocyst, which it really is no longer, but we like the moniker).

We're super excited about our little spawn.  Our first-born is less excited, but he'll come around.

Freaky, huh?

*Offspring who is reading this far, far in the future: guess I have to start being a little more careful about what I post on here now, huh?

Stuff I Love

In an effort to ignore the one thousand times I've sneezed today* and the killer headache I'm going to have in approximately six hours when I wake up for work (gross), I am going to focus on the positive and show you some things that are making me smile a whole lot lately.

1.  None of Your Frizziness conditioner by Herbal Essences.  I am a complete cheapass when it comes to hair products (or beauty products in general, if we're being honest), so this stuff is super amazing because it makes my hair silky smooth without being greasy, and it smells like a happy day at the beach.  Well, it also kind of smells like a Mary Kate & Ashley brand shampoo that I used when I went on a trip to Mississippi with a professor in college (I wouldn't recommend going on a trip with a professor in college, but that's a story for another time), so, anyway, I also laugh every time I use the conditioner.  Silky hair and hilarious smell deja vu?  Shoot yeah!

2.  More Amish Butterprint treasures!  Matt's mom (are you jealous that my mother-in-law is so much better than yours?) got me these when she was at the Bouckville antiques extravaganza last month.  Are they just the cutest thing you've ever seen or what?  Cassie says that one dish on the right is for pate.  Hmmmm. . .well, I used it to store leftover tater tots this weekend.  That's the same, right?

3.  Cold food.  Mmmmmmm.  I love cold food.  Cold pizza, cold french fries, cold stir fry, cold pasta.  Matt thinks this is the most disgusting thing of all time.  I think it's delicious.

4.  My little cuddle wolf.  Why is he so cute?  Would this pose scare off a murderer robber?  Yeah, I think so, too.

5.  These lollipops that I stole from Tanya's house last weekend.  They're cotton candy flavored or something, and they're super tasty.  She says they came from Party City or something, so I might need to go on an outing here soon.

6.  A trio of baby pumpkin cakes!  They look a little less hobo-like once frosted and sprinkled with walnuts.  You can tell that Cassie totes decorated the one on the left.  I've not got the patience for that bull jive!

I also love people who come to my house and clean it and then do all of my essay grading while I sit on the couch and watch Teen Mom, so if anyone out there is bored, feel free to come on by.  I'll provide you insightful commentary on the state of Amber and Gary's relationship and Farrah's stupid bitchness.  



*Matt refused to say anything after someone sneezed.  No "God bless you," no "Gesundheit," no nothing.  He said he does not need to acknowledge that I've sneezed.  I say he's lucky I still have a soul.  I've been so obnoxious about his refusal over these last nine years that recently, whenever I sneeze, he gives me a really exaggerated "God bless you."  It's a minor victory, sure, but it sure makes having a cold a lot more fun.

Weekend

After having a "less than fun" day with students on Friday (was it a full moon or something?), I came home and decided that I needed a Brothers & Sisters nap before I did anything else.  Then I threw a temper tantrum while I was on the phone with Matt because the wiimote batteries were dead and I had to get out of bed to go get more.  I proceeded to growl breathe on the phone with Matt for a few minutes until he wisely said something along the lines of, "Oh man, I'll see you when I get home.  I'm going into a dead zone." Fortunately for him, I was asleep by the time he got home (like 15 minutes later).

But then when I woke up four hours later, I realized that I'd caught the cold that he'd spent the whole week fighting, and then I was super pissed.  So I went to Target to pick up my cure for a cold, a bottle of Simply Grapefruit juice (this cure is 90% placebo effect and 10% vitamin C, but it works pretty well) and some fancy cough drops (I am a cough drop addict, as is my dog).

Then I wasted my Saturday away taking approximately 12 more Brothers & Sisters naps, drinking another entire Simply Grapefruit juice, making some tasty chicken noodle soup, and pouting because my cold cure had failed.  This morning I finally changed out of the clothes I was wearing on Friday.  I haven't taken a shower in seven weeks.

Suckfest.

The good news, though, is that I had a freezer full of popsicles, and I found a water bottle at Target that is basically just a sippy cup for grown-ups that I could prop up against a pillow so that I could just roll over slightly to enjoy some nice, cold water.  And the weather was out of control perfection, so I had all of the windows open and enjoyed the nice breeze.  And tonight I got super inspired and attempted to make some mini pumpkin cakes. They're delicious, but I definitely didn't have the right pans, so they look kind of like hobo cakes.  Oh well.  I'd rather have delicious ugly food than disgusting beautiful food.  Right?  Right?

 Brothers & Sisters nap #9.

 If Simply Grapefruit doesn't work, maybe Ben & Jerry's will?

New laundry baskets make me happy.  Also, I am old.

Mitch loves the smells of fall. 

 Totes super glued my fingers together.

 It's all very Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

Well, shoot.

Here's to a new week, getting rid of this stupid cold, and more open window days.

The Godfather

About a month ago, Matt's godfather, Gary, passed away.  It was incredibly sad to lose someone like him, not just because we adored him or because we know that we'll never see him again or hear him tell jokes or receive emails from him with scanned comic strips and random words in all capitals, but because without him, the world is just not as good.  I'm hesitant to even write this because I know that there aren't words to accurately convey just how awesome Gary was.  

                                    

Gary didn't want a funeral, so this past weekend we headed down to Ft. Lauderdale to attend his celebration of life party.  During this party, people from Gary's life spoke about him, about his sense of adventure, selflessness, and his incredible passion for helping others.  As the host would list Gary's accomplishments (which, by the way, earned him recognition from the U.S. Congress and countless other agencies), I began to wonder how one guy could possibly do so much.  Gary never mentioned all of his volunteer efforts or the funds he set up for different causes when we were hanging out with him eating brownies.  In fact, during those times, he seemed primarily concerned with us, with what was going on in our lives, with our jobs, our families.  

He was mischievous, kind, cheap, ambitious, humble, and generous.  He was a lover of baked goods and a packrat and a genius.  Gary dedicated his life to making other people's lives better, and I've never known anyone who was a better citizen than he was.

And now, knowing all that Gary did and how many people he helped, I feel like a complete lazy do-nothing.

 We're really going to miss Gary, and need to get moving if we're going to be even 1/10 as amazing as he was.

Swingin'*

Here's how a conversation between Cassie and me evolves (devolves).

First, I read a Dear Prudie column about a lady who seems only to be attracted to men who are swingers.

Then, I write to Cassie, telling her that I read the letter that she sent in to Prudie and that we all knew Hugh was a swinger all along.  She agrees, and wonders how she could ever have thought him so perfect.**

Later I found this article that discusses the top ten signs a couple will divorce.  Number one?  Being swingers.  So,  naturally, I sent it Cassie's way.

An exchange:

Cassie: Who knew swinging was such an issue?

Me: I think swinging is like camping.  It seems like it would be fun, but really it's just wet and gross and you wake up in the morning wondering why you make such bad life choices.

Cassie: Oh, and there are weird sounds you've never heard before and you are stuck in an uncomfortable bed all night wondering how in the world you got here.***


*The title of this post could also have been, "How the hell would I get through by day without email?"


**For the record, I don't think that Hugh and Cassie are getting divorced any time soon.


***It should also be noted, Grandma, that we are not swingers and have no plans to become swingers.

Cute or Deadly?

Geez-o-Pete, we've been busy lately!  Not only am I deep into writing test preparation essay grading hell, but we've been actually doing stuff every weekend lately.  Usually, when people ask about our weekend plans I reply, "Nothing.  Absolutely nothing."  But lately we've been doing stuff--fantastic stuff, but stuff nonetheless.

Which means that I am tired.

This weekend we drove down to Ft. Lauderdale to visit with friends, and spent about 16 or so hours in the car.  I spent about five of those hours grading essays, and exactly zero of those hours sleeping.  For the record, sleeping is much more enjoyable than grading essays.  You can quote me on that.

While we were in Ft. Lauderdale, I took pictures, but apparently only of animals that are either extremely cute, extremely deadly, or some combination of the two.

Let's start with the extremely cute.

OH MY GOD BABY DUCKS.

 If Matt would have let me, I would have taken all of these babies home with us where they would have lived in the bathtub until I built a pond in the back yard where they would swim and do other duck things until I trained them to do quacking and dance routines a la the Huxtable children.

But Matt said no.  And he said that our friends Chandler and Joey tried that once and it was way more annoying than they thought it would be.

Plus, I'm not sure the grown-up ducks (which were the opposite of cute, by the way) were too keen on my ducknapping plan.

Maybe this one tried to kill me with its ugly red poison face?  (That's what my face looked like this summer when I was a poison ivy monster.)

Moving on, look at this gross baby dinosaur I saw when I was with Tanya.  Disgustment.  I followed it around a parking lot trying to get a picture until I climbed into a tree and moved around, and I got the willies and finally ran away screaming.  That's what happens when you chase a baby dinosaur.

Then we encountered this rare creature, Tanya's pug, Daphne.  Daphne is both cute and deadly, as she demonstrated with little funny howls and her look of death.  Daphne has killed three alligators in her South Florida neighborhood, and it's even gotten her on the news a couple of times.*

Finally, I returned home to find this creature, legs a' tangled, resting in its natural habitat.

*That did not happen.

Hey hey hey.

Sorry about the complete and utter slackassness on the ol' bliggity blog.  Just wanted to stop in and say hey what's up so that you don't think we're dead or something.

Life has been good to us lately.  This weekend Matt's parents came down, and we ate and drank and shopped and went to parks and chillaxed.  Matt and I were spoiled like crazy, and it was a wonderful, peaceful weekend.  And I took nary a picture.  Shoot.

But since you love to look at pictures, I did find this beaut on Chloe's Facebook page.

I promise you she's smart.

Today was back to real life, which included working, ellipting, eating gigantic meatball subs (ellipting makes you so hungry!), chatting on the phone, doing laundry.  Not terribly exciting, but kind of nice.  When I am less tired, I'll come back with all manner of treasures and stories. Until then, I've got some Teen Mom to watch and a date with the big bed.

How was your Labor Day weekend?