This and That

Consider yourself forewarned.  This is almost all about pregnancy and baby crap.

1.  I think that being knocked up is simultaneously more of a big deal and less of a big deal than I thought it would be.  Sometimes I'm all "whatev" and feel completely normal and even forget that I'm pregnant.  Other times I wonder how this lung-crushing, sleep-destroying fetus is going to make his way out of me, and one of two things happens: either my eyes get really big and then I just change the subject and eat a grilled cheese, or I cry.  Going to have to face that reality soon, I suppose.

2.  Nursery is nearing completion.  We've got a crib, shelves, curtains that are no longer strangulation hazards (at least I don't think they are), and things are slowly coming together.  I can't wait to show it to you!

3.  So, I currently weigh three pounds more than I did at my first doctor's appointment in August, which I think is a huge giant accomplishment (granted, I was 8 weeks pregnant at that appointment and had spent the month before that inhaling grilled cheese sandwiches and orange juice, so I may have actually gained more weight since actually becoming with child, but I don't know because we don't own a scale).  It's good for me not to gain too much weight because I started from a place of way too fat.  Remember Operation: Skinny Unicorn?  Yeah, that was a bust, or, rather, it devolved into Operation: Drink as Much Wine and as Many Margaritas as Possible before You Can't Anymore, which may have resulted in some additional poundage.  I have a secret goal to use this whole baby-growing process as a way to lose weight.  We'll see.  Come spring, my body will be torn to shreds, but I'll be skinnier, dammit!

4.  I already talked about my hypocrisy with 4-d ultrasound photos.  I've taken it a step farther, though, by analyzing the crap out of that picture.  Do you think the baby looks like Jordan?  Or am I just bananas?

5.  Is this is best baby shower invite you've ever seen in your life or what?  Also, how do you feel about a Teen Mom theme for a baby shower?  You know, Ed Hardy clothes and candy cigarettes?  Nevermind, that's a terrible idea.

6.  I had a dream last night that I shaved my legs.  Ha!  Yeah, like that would happen.  Plus, I'm not sure that I could even do that anymore.

7.  Oh yeah, totes gave my stomach bug plague to Matt, who in turn gave me his cold.  We're not usually such a sickly bunch, and it's been a little bit on the miserable side (except for the popsicles!).  We just keep telling ourselves, "better now than in a few months."

Well, there you have it.  I would take a little "here's how fat I am now" picture for you, but I'm covered in dirt and dressed like a cross between one of those people on those "customers of Wal-Mart" email forwards and Pete from O Brother, Where Art Thou?.  (Too bad I can't r-u-n-n-o-f-t since I can hardly get off of the couch.  Stupid limited mobility.)  I've got big plans for today.  They include George Clooney, a shower, probably a spicy chicken sandwich, and some Downton Abbey.

What are you up to?

All Smiles

Um, are you kidding me right now with this dog smile?  Reilly had his first boat ride on Sunday, and when he came here to visit that night that was all he and Mitch talked about.  There's just something about a dog on a boat, smiling away.

I've got lots of reasons to smile right now. 

1. That dog.  Today I was reading The Odyssey with my ninth graders, and it got to the part where Odysseus returns home and his dog recognizes him after twenty years.  It was all I could do not to cry.  All happiness, those creatures are.
2. Matt.  I really like him.  I also really like that he is the grill master, and that he likes to sing stupid songs with me, and that he tolerates my manic behavior.
3. Ten more days of school.  Whaaaaa?  Yeah, ten.  Tomorrow that shit will be in the single digits.  I'm also smiling because this has been my best school year yet.
4. The word shit.  It's my new fave.
5. This weekend.  Free concert in Forsyth Park tomorrow night (some G Love character), and Hugh and Cassie's after that.  If you don't hear from us, it's probably because we're stuffing our faces with Cassie's amazing cooking. 
6. My vacuum.  I'm still obsessed.
7. Enamel colanders.  Beauty.
8. Netflix Instant.  And the fact that I can lie on the couch and rewatch Friday Night Lights with our Netflix Instant Wii disc.  What did people do before the internet?  Probably just laundry.
9. Only ten more days of school.  Oh, did I mention that already?
10. Cupcakes.  I love them, even if they do keep me fat.
11. Target.  Ours has been a long, hot love affair.
12. Sally Hansen Complete Salon Manicure nail polish.  Makes me feel like a real girl.
13. George Clooney.  Oh yeah, my prize for getting through The Odyssey with ninth graders is that I get to spend a day watching O Brother Where Art Thou?.  I've seen the movie dozens of times, and never tire of George Clooney's facial expressions. An added bonus is that afterward I get to listen to ninth graders' renditions of "Man of Constant Sorrow."
14. Oh, and I only have ten more days of school, in case you forgot.

Smiles, smiles all around.

When It's Good to Suck.

As Mitch has shared, I got a new vacuum on Friday.  It was one of those purchases that emphasized just how old and boring I have become, not so much because I bought a vacuum, but because of how happy the vacuum made me.

You see, I spent all of last week in some sort of weird haze/funk.  (Matt called it a "faze," but that seems too close to "phase" which is an actual thing.  And "hunk" doesn't work, either, unless I want to make people think something drastically different.)  I wasn't sad or upset or anything, but I was eating like shit, and I got drunk twice without planning to do so, and I just never felt "with it."  And the house was a mess and I just couldn't muster up the energy to do anything about it.  Plus, I couldn't find my tweezers, or my fingernail clipper manicure set thing, or Mitch's Kong, and it was really starting to anger me. 

Nothing major, of course, but just off.

So I was explaining my haze/funk to Cassie on Friday afternoon, and during our conversation she told me about their new vacuum.  She went on and on, praising the vacuum, quoting reviews, and providing anecdotal evidence of how awesome it is (i.e., "Hugh says the mop water isn't nearly as dirty as it used to be.").  We discussed how, perhaps, purchasing the thing would help me to escape my haze/funk, and Cassie advised me to buy it.

And I did.  (In fact, I didn't even go home from school before I went to Target and snatached one up--they were on sale for $99!)

For two days all I did was vacuum, and think of other things to vacuum.  Matt would be all, "Want to watch another episode of Breaking Bad?" and I'd be all, "Ummmm, can I vacuum the sunroom first?"  He'd be all, "Want to cook dinner?" and I'd be all, "Ummmmm, sorry.  I'm busy vacuuming out all of the window sills.  Check out this suction!"

What do all of these things have in common?

Oh yes, they're all things I retrieved when I pulled out the refrigerator to vacuum the coils. (Martha says this should be done twice a year.)  It was disgusting.  Look at it.

Is that cocaine?

Was there a murder that took place under our refrigerator?

Is that a receipt from 2005? (Mitch's first birthday, to be exact.)

Why did the people who lived here before us buy so much bologna?

And why did I pour about two cups of straight ammonia onto this mess (after vacuuming it, of course)?  Why didn't I think to open the windows?

So, high on ammonia fumes, I continued on my maniacal vacuuming endeavor, forgot to eat, and cleaned the shit out of the house.  I found the tweezers; I found $49 in a bag I haven't used in months; I found Mitch's Kong; I found a pair of shoes I haven't seen in since last summer; I cleaned out the refrigerator; I organized all of the closets; I packed up stuff for Goodwill; I cleaned the bathroom; I did all of the laundry; I reorganized the bookshelves; I dusted.

But I never found my damned nail clippers.  (Matt probably threw them away, fearing that if I had nails that were too nicely manicured that they might attract Seth Meyers or George Clooney.)

This place is sparkling, but I look forward to it getting a little messy again, you know, so that I can use the vacuum some more.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd, I'm old.

I Like Pina Coladas.

But I don't really like getting caught in the rain.  My hair gets all frizzy.

Why is this song so good?

I have a secret desire for Matt and I to join eHarmony just to see if it would match us.  I mean, by every other measure--and by that I mean Cosmopolitan's bedside astrologer and the Myers Briggs personality test--we are a perfect match.  He's the Leo to my Aries; he's the INTP to my ENTJ; he reads the directions of recipes while I chop stuff up; we both change lyrics of pop songs to be about Mitch.  Not to boast, but things on this end are good, content, interesting. 

But I know that Matt and I will never join eHarmony because it's a damned can of worms and we do possess at least a shred of common sense.*  Plus, what if it matched me up with George Clooney and Matt up with Beyonce and then we found ourselves in a pickle? 

Earlier tonight we wrote our own version of the pina colada song, and, not surprisingly, it had way too much to do with Mitch.



*I also won't find out my IQ score because I'm afraid that it won't be high enough to satisfy me.  Instead, it's likely a 75, and I'll have to go to some special school to learn how to re-tread tires.

American Ambassador

Last night Matt and I were watching a story on 60 Minutes about, basically, why some Muslims hate Americans.  (That was way too brief.  You can read about the whole thing here.)

So, the 60 Minutes lady asks a bunch of young Muslim kids, "I sense a lot of anti-Americanism.  Is that correct?"  And one of the Muslim kids responds, "Give us one reason why we should love America."  And Matt shouts out, "GEORGE CLOONEY!"

And, you know, his answer gets better and better the more you think about it.

So, on this glorious Monday morning, I give you pictures of our greatest American Ambassador, a Mr. George Clooney.

(Mr. Pitt is easy on the eyes as well.)

Ahhhh, now there's a way to start a week.

Merry Mitchmas!

Hope you have had a wonderful, relaxing, drama-free day. Ours certainly has been. I woke Matt up at 10:30 to open presents, and then when we were done (and we got some pretty cool loot) we went back to bed until 1:30. It was awesome.

Since we don't usually spend Christmas with family (opting instead to visit with them during the summer when we have more time and fewer "let's make this a perfect moment" expectations), we've started some Christmas traditions of our own.

First, we sleep in. That's crucial, and since we don't have human children, we relish our opportunities to sleep well into the afternoon.

Second, we eat a lot. Isn't this everyone's tradition?

Third, we listen to David Sedaris's "Santaland Diaries" and call friends and family to hear about their days and wish them cheer.

Then we go to the movies. This year we saw Up in the Air. It was pretty great, and did a good job of washing out that nasty aftertaste from Avatar. Oh, and I think I've had a crush on George Clooney for about half of my life now. That man sure is handsome!

After the movie, fat and lazy, we return home to eat more and more.

This year, I'll make Matt watch these commercials over and over again.

How was your day? Any awesome gifts or traditions that I'll want to steal?