21st Century? We've arrived.

Yup, you read that right, I think my family has finally stepped into the 21st century. Or at least if you talk to The Boys, that's what they'd say. We spent the evening looking at Every. Store. In. The. Area. for {drum roll please}:

Guitar Hero III.

Good Lord.

You'd think we were searching for the Holy Grail. We also spent last night doing the same exact thing. You see, yesterday was Beanpole's 9th birthday, and being the excellent, always prepared, ever-ready parents that we are {cough cough}, we didn't decide that we were really going to get him this until, well, last night. So we went to a couple stores nearby, and they didn't have it. Neither one. The game, or the guitar controllers. Nothin'. Nada. Is there a black market for these things that I'm unaware of??? So we promised Beanpole that we'd call around to find out who had one in stock (to save driving around all over creation), and if we couldn't find one in stock, we'd order it off the internet and have it shipped to our house. He cried, of course, which made me feel like a loser, but I truly didn't think it would still be this difficult to find.

We still had a successful party, just us family, eating Little Caesar's Pizza and watching a movie (Invincible, which is a great movie, considering it has one of the worst actors ever, Mark Wahlberg, in it). Chocolate cake with happy birthday candles completed the evening.

So tonight we finally found the game, at Best Buy of all places. Complete with an extra guitar (we don't want any fighting over guitars now, do we?), it was actually a lot less expensive than I thought it would be. And now all we have to put up with is a crying Little Linebacker, because he's not as good as he thinks he should be when he picks up the guitar for the second time in his life.

Life is good.

How Did THAT Happen??

I don't really understand it.

Every once in awhile, Big Boss Man will get some kind of burr in his saddle and go on a cleaning spree. This amounts to two things:

1) His space being cleared of all junk/paperwork/clothing/shoes/etc. Notice I said his space. Rarely does he clean any other space, because it's not his mess, and that's fine.

2) My space becomes overloaded with junk/paperwork/clothing/shoes/etc. Notice I said my space.

I suppose it's my fault. I'm the filer in the family, and I want to keep everything that he wants to throw away. So if I don't file it right when it comes in (BAD AxLady!!), then he might get his hands on it and it'll stay on his side of The Bunker for awhile (until I need it, or the burr settles in his saddle). So everything of importance should just be filed right when we get it. This leads me to my next conundrum:

My filing area.

I have two file cabinets. One is a fine metal piece of work with two drawers, and the other is a stunning wood deal with a file drawer and two supply drawers (bonus!!!). I'm not so keen on the metal one, but it serves its purpose and files most of the commonly-used paperwork. The wood one...well...I've had it for years (how can one become emotionally attached to a file cabinet?). Plus, we currently use a kitcheny type of table for our computer desk...his computer on one side, mine on the other, plus a lamp to boot! Note the lack of drawers available on most kitcheny-type tables...this one is no different. So I can't exactly toss the wood cabinet out with the bath water, as I'd lose my only space for extra paper, pens, pencils, one hole punches, three hole punches, stamps, envelopes, finger sticky (so one can sort through files without having to lick their fingers every few pages), and envelopes with every baby tooth ever lost by my children, etc.

I'm at a loss. I'd love a 4 drawer file cabinet (insert angelic voices singing here), but there's no room if I don't crap out the other cabinets, and I just can't bring myself to do it. Someday though, someday soon, the basement will be finished. It will be complete with a family room, bunker/jam room for BBM, laundry room, bathroom (hopefully), and a big AxLady Nook for my very own. Then, I will know the bliss of never having to search for a long lost piece of bank statement, because they will all go into the AxL Nook from the get-go, and that will be the end of it. Maybe I'll even get my 4 drawer file cabinet. And I'll keep my old wood one too!

You want to talk about a bad day?

They just keep on coming. Yesterday I had to work (typical), and although it was work, it was a truly slow day, compared to the hell we've been going through since new years. I did, however, find out that one of my best friends in the whole world is transferring stores. She's a pharmacist, so pregnant that she's about ready to burst, and currently drives over an hour to get from her house to our store (and back again after shift). So...I do not blame her at all for transferring to this store, as it's brand new, it's about a 20 minute drive from her house, she's going to have a brand new babe at home, and who wouldn't want to spend more time with their child instead of in the car? That being said, I couldn't even speak when she told me. I know this was wrong, as she's just as emotional as me and needed support that she made the right decision, but I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I'd start bawling like a baby again (I'd already taken one trip to the little girl's room for that purpose). So I left at the end of my shift, having not really talked to anyone after her news, and now I feel horrible. I just can't believe she's leaving.

Then I get home, and not 10 minutes after I walk in the door, a glass is broken in our living room by Little Linebacker...on our carpeted floor...right in the walking path. So I banish The Boys to their room and grab the vacuum cleaner. I vacuum for about 3 minutes, then it starts making this noise...sort of like how I'd imagine a squirrel stuck in a drain pipe would sound. And I'm not near done vacuuming the miniscule shards of glass from our needs-to-be-replaced-badly-anyway carpet. So I give up, and decide to simply warn BBM to not walk around barefoot when he gets home until I can figure out the stupid vacuum cleaner.

So I head back out into the kitchen, as I'd collected a pile of junk too big for the vacuum hose, and I see it...all over my kitchen floor...water. Plain as day, coming from my dishwasher. It's all soapy, because the dishwasher is right in the middle of the wash cycle. So the best thing I can say about that is that my kitchen floor got a slight cleaning too. So I turned off the dishwasher, planned on throwing in the towel (literally, as I head to the closet to grab a towel to mop things up with), and head to bed. On the way there, my mind went ker-flooey (baby brain, anyone?), and I totally didn't grab a towel. I just went straight to bed and read my book until BBM got home and informed me there was water all over the kitchen floor...CRAP! I'd forgotten the towel! He got one for me and laid it over the wet mess in the kitchen, and the last thing I remember is drifting off to one of the most fitful sleeps I've had in awhile.

And now it's today. The greatest thing is happening today: Big Boss Man and I have a DATE!!! We're dropping The Boys off at my mom's house across the river, and going to see a movie I think, although we don't even know what's out. And The Boys are actually staying overnight at Nana's house, so I get to come home and not worry about waking up with them in the morning! Then tomorrow when I drive to pick The Boys up, my sister will be there, dropping off my maternity clothes!! WOOT!!! So hopefully, the next 48 hours will be filled with joy and happiness and ease, even if I do have laundry to fit into that schedule at some point, and maybe shopping for a brand new vacuum cleaner and dishwasher!

Lookie what I've got!!!

Yeah, so I had my first prenatal appointment today, and GUESS WHAT?!?!?

There's a baby in there!



I personally like how she labeled both pictures "baby"...just in case I was in denial, or had no idea what I was looking at, or thought that I was actually capable, as a human woman, of growing stalks of corn or Junior Mints or almonds in my belly.

Okay, so there's only one (thank the sweet Lord above), and everything looks wonderful. My due date was right on, simply because this is a Leap Year (I was actually a day off, but I forgot about Leapy). So September 7th, 2008. If history repeats itself, that'll make it either September 11th (Beanpole was 4 days late), or September 15th (Little Linebacker was 8 days late). Hopefully, however, since nothing about this pregnancy is the same as the previous two, this one will also choose to be early instead of late (like, uhm, as soon as the bun's done baking would be grand).

Oh, and I love my OB. Yes, sadly, this was my first time meeting him, so I'm glad things worked out (normally I see the Nurse Practitioner, whom I would have deliver the baby if it were, like, legal). So he's a really cool guy...older, but not old enough that his jokes really suck or that he makes me uncomfortable. And he's got tons of pictures around his office of his children and family, and he went over absolutely everything with me, without making me feel like I've never done this before (but also knowing that it has been almost 7 years, and that I might not be as "pro" as I'd hoped).

And I swear my pocket calendar says September 7th is Labor Day (how appropriate), but the wall calendar posted in back of my chair here says Labor Day is September 1st. Either day will do, thankyouverymuch.

To my Valentine

Because you put up with my shit.



Because you totally look like Secret Agent Man in this photo from our wedding day.



Because you made me the happiest woman on Earth on that day too.



Because you forced me to go to Alaska, where I had the time of my life, and now wish I could at least have a vacation home there.



Because you are a rockin' guitar player!



Because you grew up in Italy and still love it today.



Because you let me bring dexter home with us, on one heckuva trip, and now he's just as much part of the family as our children, you, or I.



Because I love you.

M.I.A.

I've been a wee down in the dumps the past few days. Let me tell you something...I must be having a girl this time 'round, for several different reasons:

1) With my first two children, all I had to do was physically view that plus sign on the stick, and BAM!!! I gained 10 pounds. This time? Lost 4. Yes, that's right, I've actually lost weight since I found out. Crazy.

2) With my first two, I had heartburn pretty much througout the entire freaking pregnancy...horrible heartburn. This time? Can we say nausea?!?!? Holy cow...I've still got the heartburn, but not near as badly as the previous pregnancies, and I've got nausea to go along with it...talk about a magic combination.

3) My. Hormones. Are. Raging. I feel like a freaking crybaby one minute, and an angry, sourpuss, meanie-poopoo-head the next. There's maybe a wee little bit of happy mixed in there, but not much.

So...in order to keep from throwing all these emotions and physical ailments onto you, my lovely readers, day in and day out, I've been avoiding the blog like the plague. This really bothers me, since I've been tagged by someone I don't even know to do something I can't quite remember (it has to do with the nearest book to me), plus tagged by Ness to list 10 wishes, and I can't even get the gumption to do those coupla things without biting someone's head off or bursting into tears (Ness!! Don't ask me to get spiritual in this state of mind!!! I'd be crying for days!). So...bear with me as I find out what being pregnant truly has to offer, since apparently I missed out on a lot of it the first two times.

Well this is what I do.

Apparently, I made this blog not so I could keep in touch with friends easier, or to meet new friends, or to give myself something to do in all that free time I have.

I made it to embarrass myself, in every sense of the word.

So today's chapter starts with this description:

How having a baby growing in your tummy affects your brain.

I got Chinese food for dinner tonight. We have the best little restaurant just down the street, but they don't deliver...and this is okay with me, because they're that good. So I drove down there, placed my order, and the nice man handed me my styrofoam cup and receipts: one receipt being from the register (he assumes we write these things down somewhere). The other receipt has your order on it, plus your order number (which doesn't make much sense because they don't call out the number when your order is ready).

Well with my wallet, my debit card, my purse, and now all these things, I have no hands left over, so I drop my receipts into the styrofoam cup, and juggle the rest until I can get over to the counter where the soda fountain is. Then I think, "Damn! I better put my register receipt into my wallet so I don't forget to enter it when I get home". Then I laugh out loud at the thought, because it's a pipe dream. Then I grab the register receipt anyway, and tuck it into my wallet, which I then tuck into my purse. Then I grab my styrofoam cup, fill it ¼ full of ice, and fill it full of Mug Root Beer. Top it off with a plastic lid, and voilà, you have the perfect fountain drink for pregnant women (okay, so it wasn't diet Mug Root Beer, but they didn't have anything caffiene free and diet, so I chose the lesser of two evils).

It's not until you get my food, get into my vehicle, and start driving down the road to my home that I realize:

I. Left. The. Other. Receipt. In. The. Styrofoam. Cup.

Moron.

I believe this is what's called Placental Steal Syndrome, and I had severe cases with my previous pregnancies...I think I'm in for it this time too.

And you'll be pleased to know that as soon as I got home, I dumped half my perfect fountain drink for pregnant women into a glass, until I could reach the Completely Intact receipt and fish it from my styrofoam cup. No paper ingestion for this gal!!

They're out to get me.

My children, that is. BBM came home from work early tonight and went into seclusion in the bunker, jamming to his tunes and whatnot. I was bopping back and forth between the living room and the bunker, and The Boys were back and forth between the living room and their bedroom. All was well until I hear a ginormous CRASH from The Boys' bedroom. The punks broke a lamp!!! Knocked it right off the bookshelf!

Okay, so actually, just the light bulb shattered...but damn if it wasn't louder than that!! Enough to give a girl a heart attack!

That got them sent to bed early, and I think I'm going to finish my mediocre orange (the rest were really juicy and sweet. This one? Not so much.) and head to bed myself. I may make some toast first, but I might be a little too tired even for that.

On a happier note, I received my last ebay purchase today, and the capris fit perfectly (and will fit when I'm big and whale-like too). So really only a few buys were wastes, like the shirts that, uhm, don't fit my boobs...what's up with that?!?! And then the dress disaster. Other than that, the gauchos, capris, pants, and a couple other shirts were excellent finds!

And another?

So, yesterday I felt just a tad braggy after posting about my rocking the house-ness and winning my first award. Well color me speechless if Ness didn't make (yeah, she made this) another one for me and some other deserving bloggers!!

It seems sort of ridiculous to say that she's a close friend when I've never even met her, but she simply oozes caring, kindness, love, compassion, and understanding...all the merits of a tremendous friend. I hope I can meet her someday. Go on over the her website and check her out. She's even funny too! Bonus!

And now, I get to go make myself ready for the world according to Walgreens. Tonight is my late night (well, my latest night, since my "late night" is only until 9pm if I get out on time). I'm scared to look at the weather channel, because I heard nasty ugly rumors yesterday of snow on its way again. I guess I should check, just so I'll be prepared. But I really don't wanna.

I totally ROCK the house.

Well, okay, so at least one of you thinks I do! Barefoot Gardener, from Barefoot In The Garden thinks I'm a nifty blogger!! w00t for me!!!

How cool is that?!?!? My very first award. I think I actually just teared up. Seriously.

So now, I get to pass this on. Am I allowed to give it back to the person who gave it to me? She just got one, so I guess not, but I'll link you again anyway (in case you blatantly ignored me the first time)...go check her out: Barefoot Gardener.

Another award should go to Ness at Dachshund Strong. She's such a wonderful friend, and I've never even talked to her on the phone (yet!). She's hysterical, yet just a caring as she could be. She lives semi-near me and has volunteered numerous times to cart her hiney over to my side of the river to help me...truly, a sweet soul, and I've been blessed to know her even this much.

Next, Elizabeth from A Calm in the Chaos. She's another BFF (IRL, too! Ok, someone stop me). She'd down to Earth and great with her kids, plus she inspires me to get out there and do...whatever I want! To follow my dreams, and do something that makes me feel great, like she's doing. You go girl!!

Lastly, P-Dub at The Park Wife. God love her, she lives in a freakin' state park, and if that's not cool, I don't know what is. Plus, she's funny, and she deals with all kinds of testosterone in her home just like me, so I "get" her. She was one of my first blog friends, and she's one cool chica.

Now, having done that, let me tell you this: I stepped out of the car of a friend tonight who gave me a ride home from work. It's raining like mad here, and she wouldn't let me walk home. Anyway, I practically rolled out, since her car is about 2.75 inches off the ground (thank God I'm not 9 months pregnant!), and turned around to thank her and wish her safe travel back to The Greens. As I turned, my foot decided to go its own way, and it landed Right. In. The. Mud. It was like that scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, when Rooney is peeking inside the Bueller house, but his foot slips off the spigot he's standing on and dumps right into the muddy-ness underneath. It sucked. And the mud was wet enough from this torrential downpour that it actually spilled up over the top of my dressy work shoes and into my shoe. Yeah. It was just the highlight of my day. Really.

Oh no, please, allow me.

Let me share what kind of a Complete. Moron. I. Am.

So you all know how terribly excited I've been about my ebay purchases, right? Well, I bought this cute little number for a $5 best offer...5 bucks!! I was stoked, and I've been waiting (again, patiently) for it to arrive. Really cool seller, excellent stuff, honest about a broken zipper, but was sending a replacement zipper with the dress and everything!

So I come home from work today, and WHAMMO! There it is, sitting on my front porch. YIPPEE!!! So I get it inside, and start unwrapping...and unwrapping...and...uhm, unwrapping some more. Then I tried unwrapping it. And for some reason, my hands just would not cooperate, and that stupid little envelope wouldn't open...it was stuck with some industrial strength sticky stuff or something.

So, being the brilliant woman that I am, I grab the nearest pair of scissor (God help us all), and think to myself, if I pull up on the cuts, I'll only get the envelope...it is, after all, folded over...so there's envelope underneath the envelope I'll be cutting.

Yeah.

Right.

I could easily try to blame my children, since they came running into the bunker as I was almost finishing. Then, my scissors betrayed me! And cut the fabric. CUT. THE. FABRIC. I was almost in tears. Now granted, I'm a freakin' emotional basketcase anyway (just ask BBM, he'll attest to it, I'm sure). But I just paid good money for this dress, this adorable, cutesy, make-me-feel-a-little-less-whale-ish dress, and then I go and ruin it. FortheloveofPete.

Luckily, the cut is right on the bottom, so I guess I'll try the dress on and see if it could be hemmed a little higher without me reminding anyone of Brittney Spears in any choice of her numerous panty scandals. If it's alright, then I'll hem it up, right above the cut.

Oh, who am I kidding?? I'll take it somewhere and get them to hem it up, right above the cut. I'll also have them install the new zipper. And my $5 find will become a $20-30 expense. I'd show a picture, but it's really that embarrassing. Ness has just informed me that Fashion Bug is having a ginormous sale right now (70% off, baby!!), so I may have to give up ebay altogether. Either that, or pay sellers extra to package their shipments in Boxes. Only. I can handle cardboard and tape. Keep the extra strength sticky stuff away from me.

Lessons in Puke.

Yes, that's right, I said Puke. That's this morning's topic. I've been dealing with it so much lately, I feel I have to talk about it, or I might just explode.

Yes, I'm pregnant. But it's not me doing all this puking. It's me cleaning up all this puke. I hear you all asking "Why is this, Catty?". Well now. Let's explore that question, shall we?

First example, and I'm sure Big Boss Man will be so pleased to see this on my blog (but he convinced me to start it anyway, so he had to understand he would be the topic of many a post, right?). A few nights ago, I awoke to sounds of gasping...wheezing, gulping, heaving...I've never been so scared in my life. It was BBM, who went from the bed to the floor in a matter of seconds, simply trying to catch his breath.

Now this has happened a couple times in the past, but never to this severity. He stops breathing at night, and then his brain wakes him all of a sudden and he wakes up trying to breathe again. This was the worst I've seen it. So I'm standing at the end of the bed, jaw dropped, waiting for him to say something like "I'm alright" or "I need help" or "get me a glass of water"...anything. What does he do? He climbs back into bed. I ask him if he needs something to drink, he says "It was just a bad dream", and he's dead asleep before I even walk back to my side of the bed.

Of course, I couldn't go back to sleep after this, so I took my stuff to the couch, watched tv for a few, then went to sleep. I wake up the next morning to puke all over our bedroom floor. Floor I'd stood on not 6 hours earlier. So I knew it had happened again, and I just didn't hear it. Lovely.

So I cleaned that up. Thank God I was very newly pregnant and didn't have any kind of symptoms at all.

Fast forward to last night, when Beanpole wakes me up around 5am to tell me that he's thrown up. I couldn't handle it. Of course, he's on the top bunk, and he didn't quite make it down before it happened, so there's puke on both beds (imagine Little Linebacker's surprise!). So I grab clean blankets and take them out into the living room, get them set up there, close the door to their bedroom, and let it be. I couldn't deal with it in general, let alone at 5am.

Probably not the brightest thing I've ever done, but it was way too early in the morning to be thinking clearly.

So after taking them to school, I resign to the idea that it must be cleaned up now, otherwise it will sit and fester all day long and I'll just have to deal with it when I get home from work today. So I got in, grab the sheets with lightening speed, run to the basement, shove them in the washer, and start the cycle. I about lost my cookies while putting them into the washer. I'm about to lose my cookies just thinking about it here. When this wash cycle is done, I'll immediately start another one, just to be sure.

The good news is Beanpole was just fine this morning...not at all feverish, and rip-roarin' to go to school. I'd almost wished he would've been sick, because then I'd have to call in (which I really can't afford to do). So while I'm at work today, I'll buy copious amounts of febreeze antimicrobial, and I'll drench the beds in it right when I get home. Then it will have time to dry before bed. Thank God for mattress covers.

So...if you've read this far without renting your garments, good for you!! Sorry to lay something this heavy on you this early in the morning (or this close to breakfast), but I had to get it off my chest.

Morning songs by Little Linebacker

So...I wander into my bedroom to wake Big Boss Man up for the day, and I lay down next to him and stare at him until he gets up. As we're lying there, we hear singing. Random singing. By Little Linebacker. He's singing the freecreditreport.com song, where some guy is playing the guitar in a restaurant. Ahhh...I love the influence tv has on my offspring.

What a whirlwind!

We are just a ball of activity 'round these parts lately. I just got a phonecall from my OB, and they "booboo'd" with the scheduling and made my first appointment for a day when the OB wouldn't be there. (I'm wondering if they say "booboo'd" to everyone, or just moms-to-be!). So my appointment has been postponed for one week, now on the 16th of February. Disappointing, but I also found out that they do the ultrasounds right there in the office, and I'll have my first one that day! Last time I had a child, you had to schedule the US at a completely different time, and go to the hospital to get it done. My, how times have changed.

We're deperately trying to get our taxes filed today, as long as we have all the forms. I think, of course, that both of us are missing one form for our 401Ks, without which we can't continue. Figures. At least we know for sure they had to be mailed out 2 days ago, and hopefully they will arrive in today's mail. Once we get the totals of our refund, we'll be able to call our contractor friend and start making plans for the basement, which will lead to plans for the baby's new room...YAY!!

I'm also hoping that my first ebay purchase will arrive today. I've been waiting patiently. I was actually an ebay virgin up until now, having looked at some stuff and made an account, but never purchased anything. Well now, since I've gotten rid of all my old maternity clothing (and thank God I did...I can remember some of those fashions, and I don't think they were pretty back then, let alone now). And seeing as this will be my last pregnancy, I don't want to go out and buy all sorts of new clothes, especially with their prices (have you looked at Pea in a Pod's pricing??? Sheesh!). So, ebay has become my new best friend. I've actually won 4 auctions so far, and bid on two more. Only two of them are lots, and if I win this second one, I won't have to buy anything else at all, clotheswise. And since I've never been pregnant in the hot, humid, Missouri summers, I'm actually looking forward to this, as I get to wear all sorts of cute, summery maternity clothing. Maybe I'll look and feel a little less whale-ish this time around, with a polite amount of skin showing. Maybe.

We had the mother of all snowstorms a couple days ago, at least for these parts. I think we got about 8, maybe 9 inches. Again, I'm sure that's a joke for anyone who lives way up north and considers 8 inches a "dusting", but it's pretty good for us. And it's good snow, meaning The Boys have been playing in it almost nonstop since it fell. School was out yesterday, so they got to do all sorts of snowy things outside. I'll stick to inside, thankyouverymuch. The most I've done so far is to shovel a little of the driveway, and to trudge through our snowy backyard to refill our birdfeeder...poor things were starving to death out there.

Well, I'm off to clean house. I also have some paperwork that I brought home from work to finish up...nothing heavy, but I'll feel much better when it's done. I'll be spending some time later on in the afternoon catching up with my blogging friends, which I've been painfully rude to and ignored for the past little while. I apologize, and will rectify the situation later in the day.