Crazy Stupid Love What a freakin' great movie! My third one this week *** Emma Stone - so cute Ryan Gosling - a hottie Steve Carell - awesome *** Julianne Moore though? I find her unlikable In all her movies
I guess it's Thursday and it should be Tummy Thursday and all that's on my mind right now is the miscarriage and that like 5 of my friends - be they on facebook or real life - have announced they are pregnant since my miscarriage. Phew. That was a run-on if ever I've written one. I am going to just lay this out here because I am hoping it will help me come to terms with some things. This online journal is the only journal I keep for myself and thus you must suffer the sad along with me.
December 15th was my last Tummy Thursday update and I had been spotting. I called the doctor's office and they told me it was normal but if it continued or got worse I had to call them. On Friday, the spotting was definitely not just spotting anymore but it wasn't enough blood to necessitate a tampon or a pad, per se. I called the doctor at 10 a.m. and was told to come right in. After a look inside me, the doctor confirmed I was bleeding and told me that I should hope for the best but prepare for the worst. He said he was sending me for an emergency ultrasound and that if we heard a heart beat things were fine. If not, we'd have to have an emergency D&C (They don't do elective surgery on the weekends. Ha. Elective. Like I had a choice).
By noon I was having my ultrasound (both internal and external) and there was no sound at all. The tech was all business and said that this was not an audio ultrasound. She wouldn't tell me what she saw as the radiologist was the only one that could do that. The silence was killing me. I wept because deep down inside, I knew things were not right. After a bit of a wait in the lobby, the radiologist confirmed that there was no heartbeat. He said "the baby has passed." I wept again. I knew we had to go back to the doctor but I would have given anything to just go home and hug my son and pretend that none of this was happening.
By 4pm, I was getting ready for a D&C. Husband had to leave me alone to make sure Casey was taken care of. It's the first time I've ever gone for any procedure alone. Just me and the nurses chatting it up. Getting asked a million questions while being prodded with an IV and having monitors taped to me. One minute I was awake in one room, the next I was awake in recovery. It was a very fast procedure and I was home by 8pm no worse for the wear. Everyone at the hospital was so kind and I tried to be as invisible as possible.
The thing about this pregnancy is that I never felt pregnant. I mean, there were some symptoms but I just never believed it was really happening. I didn't even panic when we didn't hear the heartbeat when the doc ran that little microphone over me. Just as I was getting comfortable with the idea of being pregnant, I got slapped in the face with this miscarriage. Mostly, I just can't stop thinking about it all. Did I get pregnant again because I wanted to or because it was the thing I was sort of "expected" to do? Am I more disappointed that I had a miscarriage or that I have to tell everyone I had one? Was I sad about the baby dying or that I knew we had to do all the stuff that goes along with it like the D&C?
Another thing that comes along with having just miscarried is that you hear the stories about women who have had that happen to them multiple times. Am I the kind of person that can just keep trying? I have had three pregnancies. One was an abortion, one was Casey and one was the miscarriage. How many more times do I want to do that to my body? How can you psychologically go through more than one loss? I simply can't wrap my head around it. I also have the people that tell me I'm young and can just get pregnant again, like it's nothing more than getting a new pair of shoes when your other shoes no longer look so nice. It's just crazy.
I prefer to think that things happen for a reason. Though I'm not entirely convinced there is a God, I do believe in a higher power and I think that said power was maybe just looking out for me. Husband still doesn't live with us full-time. It's probably not a great idea to have another baby and have him unemployed or what have you. I also have zero patience with Casey, why I am I adding to that? Does another baby deserve that? And when you really break it down, I'm not exactly crazy about pregnancy and had sort of a nightmare recovery after Casey was born. My postpartum depression could have cost me my marriage had Husband been a lesser man.
As of right now, all I want to do is sell every baby item I have saved under the impression I would have another one. I have zero desire to try again. I'm quite content with the little boy my son is growing into. I don't know why so many people insist that only-children deserve more. I know plenty of people without siblings that turned out just fine. There's a part of me that just wants my life to carry on as usual. I'd like to start dating my husband. I'd like to travel. I think of how much easier my life would be with only one child and how much more cost effective as well.
I'm not disappointed that I don't have to turn my spare room into a baby's room. I'm not sad about not having sleepless nights ahead of me again or breastfeeding constantly. Or making my boobs stop lactating for that matter. It's kind of nice to think that I won't need to buy Pampers for another three years. I know these things sound silly to you and that you might be thinking it's the sad talking but I'm really as coherent as I have ever felt. I don't feel sad, really. Only occasionally. Mostly, I'm just trying to plan for my future now that it has been reset.
Anyway, I just wanted to jot these things down. I'm going to take a deep breath and just keep on keeping on. I hope soon I don't have to tell any more people that I've had a miscarriage and that everyone will just know on their own. It's time to start thinking about what I want to do next like dieting and saving money and working on the house. I want to remember to be my husband's wife in addition to being my son's mother. I also want to take some time to just be Randi.
Boy do I love seeing that little red envelope in the mail that has a very special DVD just for me. Getting around to actually watching the DVD presents itself as a challenge though. I can't seem to stay awake at night and have a hard time really focusing on movies I want to really focus on. So after a two-night viewing, we finished up The King's Speech last night. What a fantastic film filled to the brim with fantastic actors. I cannot praise Colin Firth appropriately with words. He's simply brilliant. It pained me to see him stammer his way through this film and at the end I felt like bursting into a round of applause for him. It was also wonderful to see Helena Bonham Carter step away from her standard unusual fair and present herself as a supportive wife, mother and queen. You could literally see the pain behind her eyes as she watched her husband struggle with his speech impediment. Brilliant. And, for the record, if history was presented to me like this in High School, I may know much more than I do now. For those of you who read this blog and think that I'm extra hard on movies that are simply mediocre, this is why. Movies should make you feel something inside whether they are stupidly moronic like Step Brothers or Tommy Boy or if they are gut-wrenching and sad like A Beautiful Life or The King's Speech. I feel passionately that you should step away from a film either with your cheeks in pain from smiling or your eyes a bloody mess from weeping. That is why I review the movies the way I do. Perhaps I'm too emotionally entwined in them but I want a film to transport me from reality and I want to enjoy my time there, be it a 90-minute visit or a 2-hour plus stay.
While in Michigan, we had high hopes that Casey would stay with his grandparents and we would be able to go to a movie every day. Unfortunately, Casey turned into the devil in Michigan and I didn't dare leave my in-laws with a monster. We ended up watching The Social Network on cable, though, and it was quite good. I have mixed emotions about Jesse Eisenberg. Something about his face or the way he talks. I find it distracting. However, as an actor in this film, I thought he was quite believable as a brilliant nerd who was not exactly likable. The movie itself was a bit long and a bit chatty but I totally recommend it. I'm addicted to Facebook. It's no secret. It was fascinating to see the steps that made it came about. How the word "Facebook" itself has become a noun and a verb. After watching The Social Network, it seemed like I heard more and more people on the street talking about how they didn't want such and such to end up on Facebook. In a store in Frankenmuth, there was a shirt that says "What happens tonight ends up on Facebook tomorrow." It's such a cultural movement, woven deeply into our every day lives. This movie really made me think about what that means. Facebook isn't just a website, it's a way of life for goodness sake. Just on a personal side note, I remember waiting until Husband said it was ok to tell Facebook we were expecting again. Just the random pregnancy posts and whatnot. It's so strange to me that I can't - that I won't - tell Facebook we miscarried... that there's a stigma to it. Something so taboo that I'm practically depending on posts about beer drinking to sort of relay the hint that I'm no longer pregnant. Yet just the other day, a friend of mine took to his wall to tell his friends that he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Truly something to ponder, eh?
12 weeks today. Fetus is the size of a lime. I wear stretch pants now. Finally succumbed and bought a pair of maternity jeans. My friend Cindy just popped and I'm waiting for her maternity clothes so I don't want to indulge too much in the purchasing of more. I'm frugal.
I tried to schedule an appointment for the first trimester screening for Down's but it turns out the one appointment they had where the timing was right is the week that we're in Michigan so the fates made the decision for us. I sort of didn't want to do it anyway and now I can't so there you have it. We have the second trimester screening on January 25th where they will do a blood draw and a sonogram and we should be able to see if Segundo is a boy or a girl.
As much as Husband is convinced he can't put a girl in me, I kind of am leaning in that direction. I don't feel at all like I felt with Casey. Right around this time with him, I was puking my guts out at least three times a day whereas currently I want to devour anything and everything that crosses my path.
So far I have had only one concern and that is with DISCHARGE. I may as well just be bold about it. Apparently it's normal but I don't recall this with my first pregnancy. I had a tummy ache the other day and when I went potty a sort of dark looking clump was in the potty that may or may not have looked like old blood. Yuck. The tummy ache was just because I had to poop so I'm not super worried but yeah... the body does some tricky shit when you're preggo.
Naturally, before the movie even hit theaters, I had already purchased The Muppets original soundtrack. It's got some groovy tunes on there and I'm totally obsessed so it is what it is. What I didn't realize was that my obsession was contagious. We have this room that is dedicated to music books and DVDs. It's known as the study or the library or the bar. It's the room of requirements, if you will. When we want to listen to a CD, we sit in there and play. Casey grew quite fond of the Muppet soundtrack almost instantly. I normally wouldn't do this, but I gave him the booklet that goes inside the jewel case. He will sit there for sometimes a half hour straight, quietly thumbing through the dozen or so pages that have pictures of the Muppets and the lyrics to the song. If we're not in the room and he wants to go there, he'll grunt and point and do a little movement that is his equivalent of dancing to gesture that it is time to go into the room of requirements and throw on the CD. This has become a daily, sometimes twice daily, occurrence. He lives for it. I mean, how stoked am I that the kid loves the Muppets? He watches the old TV show on DVD, the old movies, he has dolls of Gonzo, Fozzie, Kermit and Animal. All he wants to do is look at pictures of Muppets. It's incredible! And here comes the inevitable "but". But, every time Muppet time is over, Casey throws a temper tantrum. He cries real tears and he cries them for quite a while. On Monday when we had to put away the CD so mama could go to work and he could go to the sitter, he even did that thing where kiddos go limp and throw themselves and ended up busting his lip on my knee cap.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: Man. I thought I loved the Muppets...
When Netflix jacked up their prices, we opted to keep the streaming movies on our PlayStation. After a while, though, we realized we missed the DVDs and the choices on the streaming are quite limited. Our first week back on the DVDs we got Hall Pass and The King's Speech. Since I didn't want to have to pay too much attention to the DVD and really want to enjoy The King's Speech, we opted to put in Hall Pass. Hindsight being 20/20, I guess I would have wanted to know that Rotten Tomatoes gave this movie a 35% out of 165 reviews. That's not a good sign. When I put this on our queue it was because of the line in the trailer: How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice. It was Jason Sudeikis' pick up line and he's a funny guy. So are Owen Wilson, Pam from The Office and Christina Applegate. Plus the Farrelly Brothers are supposedly quite comedic. How did this movie go so horribly awry? How does a movie make me dislike Pam from The Office? Inconceivable! This movie is about a couple of wives who give their husbands a week off of marriage so they can see that the good ol' days aren't really as good as they remembered. I guess. I don't know. It was godawful. I laughed twice? Maybe? And that's being generous. Even the gratuitous toilet humor was so crass it wasn't funny. So we sit through this whole shitty movie just on principle and it just kept on sucking. I even sat through the credits for a bit with Husband because he couldn't believe the movie was written by the Farrelly Brothers and needed to see it with his own eyes. Naturally, we're treated to one last "extra" snippet that includes male on male anal rape. Yeah. Sums it up quite nicely.
Three years ago, Husband (who was then just my fiance) came with me to the first of our holiday Christmas parties together. We went to the Aloha Steakhouse in Ventura, a pretty nice spot just stone's throw from the pier and next door to the hotel where they filmed the final pageant in Little Miss Sunshine. While we were there, a drunk former co-worker got a little mouthy about what Husband and I would be doing for a honeymoon which led to Husband coming thisclose to asking said co-worker to take it outside. Good times. This year, the company dinner was at the same restaurant. The spot is pretty well-known for having a problem with vagrants hanging around, causing trouble and panhandling. On the way into the restaurant, we skipped the stroll we wanted to take because there were people asking me for money. During dinner, we could hear a dog barking and a group of young ruffians in a kerfuffle. Husband sort of stood up like he was going to go and break things up but I stopped him. At about the same time, one of them got knocked the fuck out and hit the concrete like a ton of bricks. When the attackers fled the scene, Husband and a couple other people in our group went outside to tend to the unconscious young man on the ground. I should probably mention that Husband was a Navy medic so he really can't help himself. It would go against everything he stands for if he didn't help out. Well help he did and he ended up getting repaid by getting that dude's piss on him. I guess when you're k.o.'d you lose control of the ol' bladder. The police and the ambulance came and Husband's job there was done so he came in and we enjoyed the rest of our party. On the way out of the restaurant, we were detoured because of a homeless woman sleeping in the doorway to the parking garage. I thought it would be tacky if I climbed over her. When we went the long way around, we got to go through Hobo Junction once again. A clearly inebriated old beggar asked me for a quarter but I declined. Then he figured he had nothing left to lose so he asked for a dollar. No, thank you. So I got the gift of being called a "fucking bitch" and Husband had to use all his willpower not to punch that dude in the face. All in all, a very festive holiday dinner that really drove home the spirit of Christmas. Amen.
Only 9 more days Until we fly. Michigan! I dread the flight, folks *** Long day of travel With a rambunctious wee one And TWICE! In one week! *** The stay will be nice Snowy Winter Wonderland Husband's great family
I'm 11 weeks today and the fetus is the size of a fig. I had an OBGYN visit this morning but it's still too soon to hear the heart beat. I've already gained 4 pounds in the month since I was last there. It's because this pregnancy, I am starving. All the time. I want to eat everything I see and then some. With it being the holidays, there are sweets and treats all over my office at all times. I have no will power. I'm going to have to find it soon, though, or I'm going to find myself weighing 250 pounds when I give birth again. She's a brick house, ladies and germs.
On another note, my sister-in-law had to give up dairy to breastfeed and I'm thinking I might try to jump on that band wagon after the baby is born, too. I don't want to do it now because I think it's important to get all the nutrients I can now while the fetus is baking. After the first of the year (because dieting during the holidays is a joke) I'm thinking of cutting way back on a lot of stuff and trying to go very raw oriented. More fruits and veggies than carbs. Ease up on the meat and dairy. Not only for my weight, but my health as well. Bitch has high cholesterol, you know. And when I was full o' Casey, my blood pressure was redonk.
On a final note, the Doc was asking if I wanted to do the screening and/or amniocentesis for Down's and I just don't think so this time. I guess the odds of me having a baby with Down's is 250/100 at my age. I just figure the baby will be born when I'm 35 but I'm baking it when I'm 34 so I don't want to worry. I also wouldn't abort the baby or give it up for adoption if it did have Down's so what's the point. Any thoughts on this, women out there? Drop me a comment.
I'm 10 weeks pregnant A quarter of the way through Fetus size? Kumquat *** No morning sickness But I'm already showing And eating for two *** I know I shouldn't But I'm totally starving All the freaking time.
When I leave work there is a section of road that gets backed up so I generally accelerate to get around the traffic. Although the Flex is basically a station wagon, it definitely has some get up and go and if I push the accelerator too hard it roars like a lion. I did that last night and thought nothing else of it. I was stopped at a light we have here in town called Five Points for a good three minutes when I noticed a cop car behind me. When the light turned green, he turned on his flashers and pulled me over. I honestly had no idea why as several minutes and at least a mile had lapsed since I went around that backup. The officer came around the car and I had my license and registration at hand. He asked if I was in a rush. I didn't think so, I replied, just headed to get my son from the sitter. He said I was going pretty fast back there and that he could actually hear me accelerating. I was still pretty oblivious as to what was going on but said "ok." He asked me how I pronounced my name and I replied "Friday?" to which he said "Ah, TGIF Wagon. I get it." Vanity plates. TGIFWGN. Yup. Lots of chit chat from said officer. His final question was "What's up with all the skulls?" referring to the planner in my purse, my sugar skull decal in the window and my sugar skull license plate frame. "I just like them?" I replied confusedly. After telling me to let the DMV know I had moved, he let me go. No ticket. Just a warning and a request to drive safely. I really have no idea what the heck that was all about but I felt pretty silly as a mom driving a skulled-out station wagon getting pulled over for speeding. All with the car seat in the back... Yeah. I have officially lost my youth.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: There are still some super nice cops out there. And some pretty incredulous mom drivers.
I saw The Muppets I laughed, I cried and I smiled Oh so worth the wait *** Fun for all ages Adults laughed as much as kids Epic cameos *** A great soundtrack, too I really have no complaints But I do want more
What a joyous day! Crusty turns another year older and the Muppets make their comeback. Crusty's mom is really to be credited for my love of the Muppets, did you know this? We used to watch The Great Muppet Caper a lot when we were wee. I think it's because Juanita, her mom, should have been born British. Maybe that's why I want to be British? Points to ponder...
I want to blog so badly. I really do. The truth of the matter is nothing of interest is going on around these parts. The child and I are struggling to get over our colds. Husband is home for the holiday. I am looking forward to stuffing my face and wearing a dress to dinner solely because it will free my belly to receive as much food as humanly possible. I had fretted til now that I would have morning sickness to ruin Thanksgiving dinner and now that threat has passed.
Want to know another thing that's worrying me? It's weird to be pregnant and not have morning sickness. It's almost like aside from me not having a period, I'm not even pregnant. Thankfully I have an OBGYN appointment on December 9th and I should probably be able to hear the heartbeat by then. I'm definitely not trying to wish morning sickness upon me, however, it's just feels weird to not be sick. Then again, this is only week 9 so maybe it's just not time to be sick yet.
I get to see BFF & the Bay Area Peeps on Friday and that should be super awesome. It's crazy that BFF now lives a mere hour's drive away and I haven't seen her for like a month already. What the hell? Who needs to be that busy? We sure don't.
We also get to take down Thanksgiving and throw up Christmas decorations this weekend. I just can't wait. But mostly? I can't wait for tomorrow because The Muppets will finally be out and I will finally get a chance to go to the movie theater!
Two days at home sick That's two boxes of Kleenex Preggo means "NO DRUGS" *** Fetus is 8-weeks The size of a kidney bean My jeans still fit me *** Haven't been sick yet I mean, morning sickness sick Maybe not this time?
Today is my mother's 64th birthday. She has been my mom for 34 years and boy have we had our ups and downs. All in all, aside from our wee co-dependency issues, she is my best buddy. I talk to her multiple times a day and hang out with her a whole lot. If I was a teenager, I would think that would make me, like, the lamest person on the planet. But right now? I think it's neat. She will literally give you the shirt off your back. I think she's the most generous person I know. She loves nothing more than buying presents for no reason at all. She makes me laugh and she makes me crazy. She's a mystery wrapped in an enigma. I like that she makes comfort food like green bean casserole and quiche and this funky grape salad made from cottage cheese, Cool Whip and lime Jell-O. She and her best friend used to take cake decorating classes. I think they were Martha Stewarts before Martha Stewart knew she was a Martha Stewart. She can throw a themed party in seconds flat and always has her Christmas shopping done in November. She's just that swell. Anywho, I don't feel like getting too sappy about my mom because I'm fucking exhausted today (thanks for not sleeping, Casey!) but I think she's great and I love her and I hope she lives to be super old as long as she doesn't get all senile and needy and weird like my Gran (who I also love like a fat kid loves cake regardless of her "quirks").
Three "11" Day Feels like a day to gamble But I likely won't *** And Veteran's Day That's most men in my family Thanks to all of you *** Big bonus this month A good time to be grateful Count lots of blessings
Today is the thirty-year anniversary of me becoming a big sister. Even though Curtis is now a thirty year old man who stands at 6'4", a home owner, a husband and the father of two, he will always be my little brother. I remember the day they brought his 12-pound newborn self home from the hospital to Janetwood and standing in the garage to greet him. I remember all the trouble he got into as a child and how I always felt somewhat responsible because I was supposed to watch him and take care of him and be a role model. It is because of the drama between us as children that I seriously considered not giving Casey a sibling. I also remember family road-trips together where he'd lay across the back of the station wagon on my lap so I could scratch his back (that is when we didn't need the cooler between us to stop us from touching each other!). I remember playing He-Man and GI Joe with him in the sun room. I remember going to his little league baseball games and cheering him on. I remember how he'd promise to be quiet if he could just hang out in my room with me and my friends. Or how we had walkie-talkies so we could talk at night even though our rooms were literally a foot away from one another. And how we had matching pajamas on Christmas Eve and we'd always sleep in the same room anticipating all the presents we'd see the next morning. Today, Curtis is my friend. He is my son's uncle. He's the person I call when I need to cry about my mother or my Gran being my mother and my Gran. He's a confidant and basically an all-around fun person to hang out with. He's a hell of a cook, can shoot a gun like no one's business and is great with his hands as a contractor/handy man. We have been through thirty years of ups and downs. There was even a period of time where we didn't speak at all. Now I can't imagine my life without him and I think he's great. I hope he has a very happy birthday and that I can share at least thirty more with him.
One of the reasons I live in Oxnard is because my family is here. This has its pros and cons. A couple pros are: I am never homesick; and there's almost always a sitter if I need one. I'm sure there's more than that but I'm drawing a blank. The cons are: there seems to always be drama we end up involved in; lots of random obligations; and most glaringly obvious is that there is a lack of privacy? alone time? with my own family that consists of Husband, me and Casey. I love having my family around because I know it's good for Casey to know his aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. I'm fortunate that his great-grandma is still alive and spending time with him. I'm also fortunate that my family is closely connected relationship-wise as well as vicinity-wise. These are really good things. However, sometimes it gets to be a bit much. For example, I see my folks at least a couple times during the week and inevitably once or more during the weekend. Husband is usually only home on the weekends and I firmly believe kicking it with the in-laws is probably not high on his priority list. My folks left for Palm Springs last Sunday so I made an effort to go to dinner with them on Thursday night and they came for a visit on Saturday. They returned yesterday and brought dinner and Gran over to the house last night with them. I will also be seeing them this coming Saturday for birthday festivities in honor of my brother and mother. I'd say that shit qualifies as frequent. Last night, I made the declaration that during the three-day weekend following Thanksgiving, I would be unavailable and basically didn't want to have any plans with them. My mother responded that my request was lofty as they needed to come and get my Gran's Christmas decorations out of the rafters that weekend. I thought about letting that blow over but today I told her no to which she responded by telling me I was selfish. I'm sure she's just being a smart ass like usual and I should ignore her but my "selfish" ass always takes care of Gran when my folks blow out of town, is arranging a birthday dinner for her and also makes an exerted effort to let her see her grandson far more frequently than she ever saw my niece or nephew. I guess I'm just here to vent and I will chalk my inability to let this go up to pregnancy hormones.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: Family: can't live with them, can't live without them.
In an effort to be more consistent in blogging, I've decided to just get on in here and ramble until something of significance inspires me.
It seems as though every weekend, although it is never written in stone, we end up doing something. Saturday we had Kitty over for her birthday dinner and yesterday Gran came over. I wonder when Husband and I will ever just get a weekend to ourselves.
We were talking about lack of sleep thanks to the time change and I estimate the next time I will have the ability to sleep a full night's sleep will be when this baby in my womb turns 18. How old will I be? Oh, about 55.
Casey keeps saying a sound that resembles turtle but I found out today it also means "todo" which is Spanish for "all." When he's done eating, he says "todo." All this time I was thinking he wanted to talk about turtles. He makes the very same sound when looking at his turtle flashcard, by the way. I just didn't think he randomly wanted to talk about turtles.
If you tell Casey to "kiss the baby" he will go up to our mirrored wall and put his dirty little hands on it and lean in and open-mouth kiss his reflection. It's rad.
This photograph is the last picture we have of Kiyah. As you all know, she has not been well as of late. What most of you aren't super aware of is that in June, Kiyah had surgery to remove a tumor the size of a tennis ball that was determined to be stage 3 cancer. Basically, there is no recovering from that sort of thing. I know I came across as cold when talking about treating her, but the reality is, Kiyah was ten years old and putting her through more treatment to delay the inevitable was not an option Husband and I entertained. On Monday, October 31st, we took Kiyah to be euthanized. Words cannot express how hard that was or how much it took out of both Husband and myself but we are comforted in knowing she's no longer in pain. Rather than dwell on her death, I'd like to go down memory lane.
The first time I met Kiyah was my first visit down to San Diego to see Husband. That night, I slept on his couch. In the morning I woke up to Kiyah's snout in my face as if she was just waiting for me to open my eyes. It was at that moment that I knew she chose me for herself and for Husband.
She came up to Oxnard with Husband the day he proposed. While we were at the ball game in L.A., she dug out of the yard and ran away. That will forever be part of our engagement story.
The first week she lived with me, she dug out of our yard and ran away three times.
When I was pregnant with Casey on 4th of July, we took her to the beach for fireworks and she buried her snout beneath my belly to hide herself and (I think) to protect the baby.
The night I went into labor, Kiyah expressed her disapproval by peeing on her bed.
"Iyah" was one of Casey's first words.
She went by Sissy, Coyote, Deedee, Judy, Judith, Yoodie, Kadeedee, Kiyah-tay, and so much more.
She was a snow dog that loved to run on the beach and swim in the ocean as much as she liked to hike in the mountains and swim in melted snow.
Kiyah had a foot fetish that drove her to lick our feet incessantly. She even had a big plastic foot chew toy. And we can't forget her stuffed kitty that she treated like her own baby and "nondenominational" woobie.
Whenever I scratched Kiyah's belly, I knew she'd sneeze in my face.
She would cuddle me on the bed with her head on the pillow just like a real person.
Her groomer, Angel, was a reformed ex-convict.
Kiyah was great in the car and never hesitated to go on a drive. Or for a walk for that matter. It was like every time was the first time.
There are so many more memories that I'll never be able to put here. Kiyah has been a part of my life for four years and a part of Husband's life for ten. Casey is only knowing of life without her now for the first time. She was loved like family and will be missed greatly. No matter how many ups and downs we had, Kiyah really was the best dog I could ever ask for and I am so grateful Husband and I got to share her final moments with her before she went on to Doggy Heaven.
My sweet hairdresser Said my haircut was gratis She pulls that a lot *** Then our sitter said We were paying her too much Gave me money back *** I am so grateful For the generous people I have in my life
Friday night my folks and my ma's BFF came over for dinner. Love that lady. Sure wish she lived closer than Virginia. Why does everyone live in Virginia?
Saturday morning I got up bright and early to make spinach dip and lemon bars for Cindita's sprinkle. Halfway to LA I realized I forgot to bring the spinach dip with me so I got to make two in one day.
Spent the day chilling with BFF & Co. and Cindita & Co. BFF made a delicious Reuben casserole that we got to eat outside. All was fine and dandy until I was struck with a tension headache that had me in bed by 8. Party pooper right here, folks!
Sunday morning we left BFF's place and tried to get Casey to nap before heading to Westwood for a brunch with my Jew friends. We took a nice stroll on the beach but the fog was thick. Then to kill time while the child napped in the car, I took Husband by my old place near Korea Town. Those were the days.
After a delicious kosher brunch, we headed home and dove right into our pajamas at around 3 p.m.
Kiyah has had 2 accidents in the house in the past 2 days. One was in Casey's play area, the other by Casey's high chair... for no reason. Both times she was given the option of being let out or actually was put out. I don't know if this is a vendetta against him, if she can sense Segundo and is pissed another one is on the way or she's incontinent.
Aunt Flo never came I jumped the gun, bought a test 2 pink lines, 1 faint *** Just a month ago We took out the ring for good Seems impossible *** No one reads this blog So I'm "coming out" on here But not on facebook
I was raised differently when it comes to pets than most folks. Some of my closest friends are willing to go deep into debt because they feel it is their responsibility to keep their pet alive and in great condition for as long as humanly possible. I am not one of those people. When Kiyah had to have her tumor removed, I spent the close to $2,000 dollars mostly because I felt super guilty. And she was bleeding all over my house and her body was no longer in one solid piece so we really had to get that taken care of. However, the facts are: Kiyah is ten; Kiyah is a dog; We really don't have that kind of money. This weekend I noticed something was up because Kiyah stopped begging for food. Another clue was coming home and finding the ham and cheese pieces I'd thrown in the yard in the morning still there in the afternoon. She hasn't really been eating or pooping since I'd say Saturday. Husband called the vet and they wanted to see her and it was going to cost roughly $500 for the visit and tests. No. We decided to give her some Milk of Magnesia and see if that would help get things moving. There were traces of loose stool in the yard so at least she is no longer all backed up. Last night I hand fed her some more ham and cheese so at least she's eating. And this morning she jumped on the bed to snuggle with me and the boy so I guess she's not in too much pain. Think good thoughts for her.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: I'm just not the pet owning type I guess.
I am truly sucking when it comes to blogging lately. Let's see if I can do some sort of re-cap of the goings on in the Friday family. Last week, Maria got to go to Disneyland for her birthday and my folks were in Vegas so that meant I had to take Thursday off and Husband took Friday off and we played stay-at home parents. There was a wee heatwave so that meant outside play was sort of limited. This lead both of us to the mall playground with the kid. Never thought I'd see the day I'd do that. Saturday morning I got to have a grown up breakfast sans Husband and child. I met up with my friend PJP and his wife and we went to breakfast at an Oxnard staple: Mrs. Olson's Coffee Hut. Their Bloody Marys are strong and spicy. However, there is usually a line out the door so plan to get your whole group there early. It's worth the wait but they won't let you in unless all of your party is present. Later that day, we took the kiddo to the pumpkin patch. He naturally tried to pick up only the biggest pumpkins. The only pumpkin he actually picked up belonged to another kid who was nice enough to humor mine. Casey's fear of livestock is still quite strong. Sundaywas a pretty chill day. We took the dog to the groomer in the morning. We hit up the mall and I just want to give a shout out to Macys for the following story. In August I tried on that pair of jeans and they fit but I bought another color in the same size and style. I took the tags off, tried the pants on and they were cut wrong so they did not fit. I assumed since I had no receipt and no tags I was stuck with a $45 pair of jeans I would never be able to wear. Luckily, the nice lady let me use my Macys statement as a receipt and she gave me store credit. I bought makeup. Holler. MondayI had to go back to Macys (my 3rd trip to the mall in 4 days) because the nice lady who exchanged my jeans had my drivers license. Kiyah appears to be sick and won't eat a thing. Not even ham or cheese, two of her favorites. She's drinking water by the gallon but won't poop. Constipated maybe? It's looking like I get to be the lucky one to give the dog an enema or a laxative. Awesome.
All day with Casey It was such a frickin' treat Just mother and son *** We hit up the park And then the mall playground. Wha? I must be a mom *** Stay at home parents You get mad props from this gal That is some hard work
8 a.m. blood draw A great way to start the day Nice phlebotomist *** 9:30 gyno Grabbed some McDonald's breakfast Read EW *** Doctor's doors were locked Seems as though my appointment Was in Ventura***
***In other words, my ass was in Oxnard killing time instead of working and those damn people scheduled me in another city! Um, helllooo? I've only been a patient there for years and have always gone to the Oxnard office! Grrrrr.....
Seems like a good day for schnippets since I haven't really cared about the blog this week:
Crusty's boda was fantastic. Pictures can be found here.
Spanx are super uncomfortable but they get the job done. While I was still a hefty matron, at least my dress zipped up. The lady photographer also told me my boobs looked fantastic.
Apparently I'm terribly out of shape and getting old because while I never got a hangover, wearing high heels and dancing the night away has apparently broken my feet. I'm still feeling it and it's like five days later already.
Husband turned 37 yesterday. It's a nice feeling that I will always be younger than him (regardless of how old I feel).
Words with Friends is my new favorite thing and I have about 15 games going on facebook. If you want to play me, random lurkers, my handle is Friday805.
I stinkin' love October. Halloween decorations are already up. Yesterday it rained like a bastard so it totally feels like fall. I'm wearing a sweater. It's just great.
It's out with the "old" Dad's officially retired I guess I'm the "new" *** Tomorrow Crust weds So tonight we shall rehearse First? Mani, pedi *** Only work 'til noon So much work to accomplish So I goof off here
I don't know if it's "bad" or "sad" or both but my Dad's retirement dinner is tonight. He's the boss of me, you know. It's going to be super hard coming to work without the bonus of seeing my Dad almost every day in the office down the hall.
I went off birth control and thus my face decided to break out and I'm cramping even though I am not men-stru-ating.
The heartburn I had last night threw me into a crazy dream where I was telling Husband I was pregnant. Pregnancy and heartburn go hand in hand for me. I hate it.
A bug bit me on the side of the face so I hope the swelling goes down before taking pictures on Saturday.
Having to wear glasses at Crusty's boda because, let's face it, I'm blind without them.
I got my hair trimmed last night so I wouldn't look like I have a mullet for Crusty's boda. Afterward, I went over to her folks' house and saw her dress and how skinny she is and the beautiful shade of auburn her hair is now. What a bride she will make, friends! Anywho, apparently my insecurities about being a fat matron crept over into my dreams because this is what went down in Slumber Town last night:
I had the most complicated dress in the history of dresses. It had at least three pieces to it and I had to try several times to get into it.
My dress was straight and tight and I could barely walk in it. Thus, my strappy shoes were literally rubbing together as I tried to walk and kept getting tangled into one another.
All of Crusty's old college roommates decided they wanted to be in the wedding, too, so they all became last minute bridesmaids and we all had very different dresses on.
Crusty's veil was this animatronic number with a Sesame Street theme (like, puppets attached) that actually sang the Sesame Street song while she wore it.
The wedding was being held in what was basically a dirty ol' Moose Lodge.
The "choir" started singing Christmas carols instead of the Wedding March.
Crusty was blonde so I knew it wasn't real.
Right? What the hell? I guess I have wedding on the brain. My dress should be ready to be picked up from the dry cleaners this afternoon and I get to try it on with my new Spanx undergarments. I tried on the actual girdle last night and dear Lord that sucker is tight. When I rolled it off, my panties came off with it. I will say the bra-llelujah is the most comfortable and nice fitting bra I have ever worn even if it is not attractive in the least. And, Spanx? If you're listening, maybe a more discreet packaging is in order when you ship your undergarments. I don't think my office needed to see SPANX in bold print splattered on the side of your box. Ordering a girdle should be more subtle... like ordering a dildo. Plain, unmarked boxes, people.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: I apparently need to lay off the methamphetamines before bedtime.
Today: Work, pick Casey up from Maria's, drop Casey off with his grandparents, get my haircut, pick Casey up, go see Crusty, buy milk, go home. Tomorrow: Nothing solid on the books other than work but methinks there will be boda-related activities so I am at Crusty's disposal. Also, Husband comes home. Thursday: Pay day! Work, orientation for Casey's new sitter, go to my dad's retirement dinner. Friday: Work half day, go to lunch with Crusty (unconfirmed), get our mani/pedi, pick up Casey and Husband, go to rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Saturday: Be at the bride's disposal and offer to be her shuttle service, be a part of picture taking and wedding festivities, party hearty and get to spend the night at the Pierpont in Ventura. Sunday: Family party for Husband's birthday which is actually not until next Wednesday but why not tack on a few more things on an already hectic week?
Friday Night It's been a couple years since I've had my soon to be 5 year-old nephew over for a sleepover so we decided to do that. His folks dropped him off and he was wearing Skurvy pajamas that he saved just for the sleepover so I put mine on, too, so we could match. He loves the movie Carsso Husband made him "fast car" chicken nuggets. He and Casey played with all of Casey's toys. It was a lot of fun. I consider it practice. He and Husband played Playstation. It was very interesting to hear Ethan talk and recognize him speaking in the same cadence as my brother. It was also kind of hilarious to hear his stories about sharks and how often he called Husband "dude."
Saturday Let's just say that 5-year old nephews are loud. He woke up and hit the ground running. He wanted to eat and drink just about anything we had for breakfast. When his mom picked him up he said he had fun until she picked him up because he never wanted to leave. That was sweet to hear. After they left, my folks took me and Husband and Casey to Ojai for lunch. I have to brag that for a one year-old, Casey is so good at restaurants. He just loves to go out. Mom and I shopped for a bit while he played in the park with Dad and Husband. We also cleaned out the rafters to try and get rid of my grandparents' old stuff. I was hoping to find treasure like on American Pickers but all we found were some stinky old Samsonite luggage and some 50-year old Tiki torches in horrible condition. Later that night we bbq'd tri tip and had Kitty over for dinner, many beers and Bridesmaids. Have you seen that movie? Oxnard is in it. And it's hilarious.
Sunday We did very little aside from go to Ethan's teeball game at 9 a.m. The marine layer was so thick it was practically raining. Casey got to tire himself out at the park and ended up taking a 2.5 hour nap. We stayed home for the rest of the day and in the afternoon Casey and I took a nap for an hour and a half. Lazy Fridays. I got to watch New Girl and I think it's a very funny show but I'm on the fence if liking it makes me a hipster.
First Day of Autumn Wee raindrops on my windshield Skies and clouds are gray *** The sun will peek out For a bit this afternoon Nice, mild, fall weather *** Darker earlier My favorite time of the year Perfect for snuggles
So I quit myfitnesspal.com. I'd like to apologize if I recruited you only to ditch you. I have to say, I lost interest pretty quickly with the whole logging what I eat thing. I think it was an eye-opening experience and it helped to actually see what I was eating and that it was in no way in my calorie range. Then again, I'm not even sure I was calculating my serving sizes properly. Either way, I was eating more than I should. It definitely assisted me in kicking the snack habit. I don't really do that much any more. The workplace candy dish, for the most part, is left alone. I have a couple cups of coffee, breakfast, lunch and dinner. I still aim to only have a beer a night. It's good to have goals. I also couldn't figure out how to add my exercise on that thing and didn't really put forth too much effort in learning how to do so. No, I don't go on walks. I don't lift weights. I don't participate in an exercise program. However, I do spend most of my evening chasing after Casey or carrying him to and from places he should or shouldn't be. I also am constantly cleaning up at home and constantly running around the office. I don't feel sedentary, per se, but I don't feel particularly active, either. Maybe later, things will be less hectic and I will have a husband that doesn't live in another city for most of the week and I can actually have a fitness program. I guess this is just the way it is for the time being. Last Sunday, we took the baby and the dog for a long walk to the Coffee Bean about a mile away. We played in the park. I cleaned the house for most of the afternoon. I feel like I accomplished something. Then, I blew it all with too many beers, leftover pizza and chips & dip. I paid for it, too, with some serious heartburn. I guess what it all boils down to is, I weigh what I weigh right now. I can try to move more and eat less but I just can't check in on a website or step on a scale every time I turn around. The best I can do is try to enforce that thing called self-control a little more often and not obsess. Clearly, obsessing is not working for me.
In a move that was quite extraordinary, we finally made it back to the movie theater to watch a film on the big screen. We ended up seeing Drive with Ryan Gosling. I was misled by the trailer because I anticipated an action movie in the vein of Gone in 60 Seconds. The reviews on this movie are golden. The critics are raving about how it's the perfect date movie because it has a romantic angle. The cast is stellar. Truly, this movie should have rocked my socks off. Sadly, it didn't. A lot of that "romance" was long stares between Gosling and the very cute Carey Mulligan with little to no dialogue. We only got to see two car chase scenes and the rest was pretty basic driving. I will say, though, that there are some of the most violent images I have seen on screen in this movie. Ryan Gosling is truly a fantastic actor. He can say so much without saying a word. His subtle expressions and body language make him truly unique in his field. As for the movie itself, Husband noted it's like they pull you in with a smattering of action and violence and just when you're on the edge of your seat, we're back to the scenes of zero dialogue and staring. Meh. I guess it was ok but for my first trip back to the theater, I expected way more. We probably should have gone to see The Warrior.
Casey helps me out He opens the garage door With his wee finger *** Strapped in the car seat He gets his wow-wow and truck Vinylmation toys *** His window rolled down Grown ass men waving, smiling To Casey's straight face
Casey vomiting before bedtime, up all night crying because he can't breathe out of his nose and the sound he made as he rolled off the bed because of all the tossing and turning he was doing. I would have stopped him but I was in a Benadryl coma.
Why Benadryl? My flu shot had a crazy reaction and now I have a 5" in diameter red splotch under my arm at the injection site.
So I've been using myfitnesspal.com for about two weeks now. I haven't gained or lost from what I can tell but it is definitely helping me learn a thing or two about what I put in my mouth. I mostly log on Monday through Friday during working hours. Weekends I just don't want to be bothered with being online or on my phone app which I find increasingly annoying to play with.
Last week's goal was to have a drink a night and I totally passed that test with flying colors. I only had two Hershey kisses out of the snack drawer at work whereas before I'd take about 2 an hour. Or more. Yeah... candy drawers are the devil.
Naturally, the weekend messes up everything. My mother and I went shopping and I was all excited about the extra walking I was getting in when she told me about her free piece of candy at Godiva card and that she had a gift certificate for The Cheesecake Factory and we were all going to eat it. And eat it we did. I had a red velvet cheesecake. Are you kidding me? But whatever. We walked and then I walked later at the park.
This week, my goal is to snack less. Monday was a birthday at work so we had cake but yesterday I didn't have a single snack. Too bad I had two beers on Monday and three last night. Damn you, company! Why must you come over and encourage me to imbibe.
So yeah. That's how things have been going. I don't really need to blog it here as I have that other website to track things but what's the fun in that if the blog gets neglected?
This used to be a place where I'd come and do some sort of sexualized meme but for today it is where I will share some soul-baring bullshit. Strap yourselves in, it's going to be a bumpy ride. When I was in high school, I had a friend named M. She was a little on the butch side and played soccer. She was very funny and random and shared a love of Muppets. I genuinely considered her one of my closest girlfriends. She used to come over to my house and I always gave her back rubs and made her popcorn after soccer practice. I know where your mind is going right about now, but I was a junior in high school and went to a Catholic school my whole life. I was totally naive about homosexuality aside from whatever experiences I had with my uncle and his "roommates." Ok? For me, she was just a friend. Then, she started writing me some really romantic sounding notes and it started to get a little weird. She was part of my circle of friends so I didn't make too big of a deal about it but I definitely was getting a vibe from her. Once, she got super mad at me in my bedroom with my parents downstairs and kind of attacked me? Yeah. My dad had to ask her to leave. Once, I was babysitting BFF's doggies while her family was away and when I came outside she was sitting there waiting for me with a mix tape of some R&B songs she made for me. That seemed more like something you'd do for a boyfriend (and seemed a bit like she was following and/or stalking me) and I'd be lying if I said shit wasn't starting to get real awkward. Once, she spent the night at my folks' house while they were out of town. It was a bunch of us girls and we were drinking and she wanted to sleep in my parents' bed with me but I wouldn't let her and so she slept in the doorway of their room. She also wouldn't stop fucking with me one morning and our friend Walter leaped over and tackled her like she was a dude. The last straw, though, was when we were spending the night at a mutual friend's house after graduation. We had all been drinking (our parents let us do that shit and it was not a big deal because no one was driving so don't judge) and we all slept in the same room. In the middle of the night I felt a hand rubbing my midsection and just under my boobs. Yeah. It was her. I leaped out of bed and locked myself in the bathroom and bolted as soon as I could, leaving her far behind. I didn't talk to her for years and years after that and all was good in the world. Then, being the forgiving and eternally optimistic person I am, I allowed her back into my life briefly about three years ago though I can't recall the reason why. Shortly after we had started talking again on the phone, she sent flowers to me at my office. Gerber daisies. My favorite. Then she sent me a quite pricey Dodgers pullover. Shortly thereafter, she said she was sending me a plane ticket so I could go visit her in Florida. I accepted the other gifts sort of unwillingly prior to that but this made me put my foot down. I told her she was being inappropriate and immediately cut off contact once again. This past Sunday I get a text from a number I don't recognize saying something about how tragedies like 9/11 shouldn't be the reason we tell people how we feel about them but "I love you and am glad you are a part of my life." Something like that. I replied "Thank you for the sentiment, I'm not sure who this is as you are not in my contacts." The response read something like "If this is still Randi, this is M, also known as Voldemort. You still cross my mind." She knows she is someone who must not be named. She knew she shouldn't have texted me; I know that. What I don't know is that why I'm still on her mind. Why can't she let a sleeping dog lie? Husband wanted me to send her a message that he didn't want her talking to me but I just let it go. I deleted the text and didn't respond and never intend to. There is nothing worse than that kind of blast from the past. I can't escape that shit. Any of my actual exes I would be fine talking with, and the fact that I refer to her in the same category as an ex pretty much makes me want to throw up in my mouth. There. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
Friday night we did NOTHING and it was AWESOME. Husband was burning off the grill to make us steaks so there was a plume of smoke rising from the back of the house. A neighbor from across the street actually came over and knocked on the door to check and make sure we weren't being burned alive.
Saturday morning we did the annual block-wide yard sale at my folks' compound (a.k.a. gated community). I got to see a couple of my childhood friends' parents. There was a wee thunder shower. I made a whole $25. I got a steal on a gurgle jug. Kind of a funny story. The lady had a tag on it for $30 and I asked if that was really how much she wanted and she said she'd take $15. I asked if she'd take $10 and she met me in the middle at $12 but I walked away. I regretted it later and when I went back the jug was gone. When I asked her about it she said she wasn't going to sell it after all but lots of people had told her what it was and she was going to give it to her son and he'd love it because he loved fish and on and on. I was super sad and made it known. She said she'd call me if she decided to sell it later. I pouted a bit more and told her I'd really like it and that it was still there so it must be a sign I should have it. After a bit of begging, I bought it off her for $20. Nice job, Randi. Could've had it for $12.
We skipped the festival I haiku'd about but our friends did come over and we spent $150 on Chinese take out and ate it all like a bunch of pigs and got drunk on Taiwan Beer. Then we played Glee Wii Karaoke and made fools of ourselves. It's fun being around a 5th and 7th grader. Their folks were a blast, too. Oh and Michigan won so Husband was elated.
Sunday was dress shopping for Crusty's boda. I found something at Nordstrom's thankfully but let me tell you, no one sells fancy dresses this time of year apparently. What a nightmare of a shopping experience. Luckily the dress was less than $150 and still looks great. I also got a steal on some chucks. $25! Must be my bargain weekend.
Krystee came over for a visit. Chargers won. Dodgers lost. I ate a red velvet cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory and I'm pretty sure it wrecked my stomach. We took a long walk and played at the park. Awesome weekend.
Thank God it's Friday 5 days work in 4 days time Ready to relax *** Yard sale tomorrow Then out of town visitors A beach festival *** Shopping on Sunday A dress quest with my mother Wish me lots of luck
For the past two days I have stuck to my goal of water at lunch and one drink a night. I had 2 Hershey's kisses yesterday but that's an improvement over the handfuls of candy I was taking out of the work dish on a daily basis.
Casey slept from 7:30 pm to 6:30 am with hardly a peep. He sort of cried in his sleep for a bit around 2:30 am but I didn't go in to soothe him and he seemed to stop on his own. Awesome.
Husband comes home today and we have company coming this weekend!
I looked up my BMI and it said the word "obese."
I'm waiting on quite a few things in the mail that I want here now but aren't here like: insurance refunds, my Disney Rewards toy, my vanity plates for the Flex. TGIFWGN. Get it? Ha! But yeah, I have none of those things.
I ate Filipino food yesterday and got exploding ass syndrome (EAS for short). How does one count calories when lunch blows right through you? Literally?
Casey choked on a pasta noodle the other night at dinner and totally booted. So gross.
Do you see that picture there? That's me wearing the Muppet shirt I was hell bent on wearing. When I got it, it was almost too small. As in, it was skin tight. And it was a "girly" fit XXL. I cautiously stretched that thing out and wore it over to BFF's place this weekend for her Labor Day BBQ. Her sister snapped that picture and at first I was like "At what point was Casey playing with a beached whale?" and then I realized "Wow, that's ME." I'm sure it's a bad angle or whatever but there is no denying the fact that the person in that picture is a 210-pound Randi. And I am pretty sure that beer in my hand, one of many that day, is part of the problem. I am going to be a bridesmaid in Crusty's wedding soon and I'm disgusted to know that I will be photographed multiple times at this current girth. I know, no one is there to see me; they're there to see the bride and groom. But still. There's this thing I have called pride and I'm not proud of the fact that I have let myself go. I want to wear the clothing in my closet without wondering if it is hugging every roll of fat on my body. I want to button my pants effortlessly and I'd really like it if those pants were the size 12s currently hanging in my closet that haven't been worn in over 2 years. Yesterday started "Day One" of my September weight-loss program. Andrea introduced me to a website called myfitnesspal.com so I'm logging the food I eat during the day, at least during work hours. I'm trying to cut my drinking waaaaaay back this month so my goal is not to crack a beer or pour a glass of wine until 7 pm. The key words there are "a beer" or "a glass." That's got to be my weekly goal so I can avoid drinking empty calories. I also need to avoid the candy dish at work at all costs. I'm picking water over soda for lunch. I'm being more cautious ordering off the menu. It's got to be baby steps or I will fail and there is simply too much at risk to fail. I'm in my mid-30s. I'm a mother of a one-year old and I am planning on getting pregnant again real soon. I cannot and will not be a statistic or a stereotypical, overweight American. There is no excuse for me to weigh this much. Period.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: A picture is worth a thousand words.
Crusty's bridal shower went off without a hitch. I had an "afternoon tea" theme and chose the colors tangerine and pink.
Oprah provided the sandwich recipe. I didn't use the tarragon in the egg sandwiches and no one seemed to care or notice. I also didn't carefully garnish my sandwiches with the parsley and toasted sesame seeds (because who has the time?) so I just sprinkled some over the finished product. These were super delicious and although I don't care much for Oprah, I learned that bitch knows a thing or two.
I didn't serve alcoholic beverages during snack time because it was a tea so I had tea put out, but you can't have a shower without some booze. I decided to do a toast with a champagne cocktail. The recipe is easy enough: 1 sugar cube in the bottom of a champagne glass, enough Chambord to drown said cube, then fill the glass with champagne (sparkling white wine for you people that insist on proper terminology). It was a hit with everyone in attendance so Andrea can save it telling me no champagne is delicious.
Crusty's mom provided the cookies, lemon bars and shortbread. My mom provided the bacon and swiss quiche with fried onion rings. Husband provided even more traditional tea cookies from Cost Plus World Market. Nothing wrong with asking a couple peeps to chip in.
I recommend the website Beau-Coup for favors as they had a wide selection and my order was processed with the quickness. Since we were having a tea, I went with small tin canisters with green tea leaves inside. Made some personalized stickers and voila! A usable and adorable take-away. This was probably the biggest expense of the shower.
At the risk of sounding like Martha Stewart, I try to make use of things I have at home so I don't have to spend too much extra money. For the centerpieces, I used some collectible tea cup sets my Gran left me and filled them with some brightly colored flowers. They didn't break the bank and looked really cute on the table.
Nothing adds a little bit of color for not a lot of money like balloons and crepe paper.
If you really want to get the crowd riled up, tell 'em it's time for games. I chose two but decided to skip the "make a dress out of toilet paper" tradition. The first game I wrote the names of 30 couples and they had to answer what TV show they were on. It was timed. Timed things make people mad. The other game was a word scramble using wedding associated words. Apparently the ladies wanted these words to be naughty. Lesson learned for the next shower.
This month sure flew by One party is behind me One more tomorrow *** Still have to clean house Got to the market, make food And then decorate *** All while on the rag And with a sick, needy kid Wish he could cry more
Husband is out of cell phone range (and away from home) until Friday.
Casey being sick is gross. Lots of snot and coughing. He also vomited because he was crying so hard last night. It got everywhere, even on me. I stripped him down and had him stand by the bath while it was running and he peed on my foot.
The goddamn fruit flies in my house thanks to a plum tree in my yard that drops plums like whores drop them panties. No matter how often I pick up dog poop and plum droppings, the flies remain.
I realized I never told my labor story so I thought today, on the anniversary of Casey's birth, I would share it here. On the morning of Monday August 23rd, I had a checkup with my OBGYN and had expected to hear I was dilated. He said nothing was happening and I have to admit I was mighty disappointed. Apparently he sensed this because he said he was going to stimulate my cervix and went about elbow deep into me and poked around in there. Can you say "Ouch!"? Dr. Cole told us to return just after lunch and he would check on me again.
When we returned, he said there was some softening of the cervix but he said he'd see me next Thursday for a follow up. In other words, don't expect to be having a baby any time soon. Mind you, at this point I'd been on maternity leave for a week already because I was gigantic and I was getting pretty stir crazy. Husband and I went home and I took a long nap on the couch. He was starting to heat up leftover ribs and preparing to make some corn on the cob. At around 5 pm, I was bouncing on a yoga ball and checking the computer when all of a sudden I heard a popping sound.
That popping sound was not the yoga ball; it was my water breaking. I instantly went into this sort of out-of-body zen mode and walked to the restroom to clean up and change into dry pants. We thought we'd have to wait it out and count between contractions but I went into rapid contractions almost immediately so it was off to the hospital with us.
Contractions did not feel good at all. They were like menstrual cramps on crack. We checked in downstairs and it was up to be evaluated. The nurse had the nerve to say "We have to make sure you are really in labor" even though I was contracting all over the place. It turns out I went from slightly dilated to zero cervix in the time I was being evaluated so they checked me into my delivery room and gave me my epidural in record time. Husband, my folks and my brother and sister-in-law were all hanging out with me. By this time it was probably around 7pm or so and nothing was going on.
At around 9, the nurse had me start pushing. Curtis and Frances had long ago gone home. The epidural really prevented me from feeling anything so I imagined what pushing felt like. My "pushing" really wasn't getting the baby moving and after a while the doctor came in and asked me if I was trying to give the monitoring staff a heart attack. I had no idea what he was talking about but apparently every time I pushed, the baby's heart rate fell. He said I had to stop pushing and rest otherwise they were going to have to consider doing a c-section. It was at this point I took a nap. In the middle of my labor. Snores and all.
We decided to start pushing again at 1 a.m. Again, the epidural kept me from feeling anything at all so I really just visualized what I was supposed to be doing. Mom had one leg and Husband had the other. I faux-pushed for a half an hour and Casey Douglas Friday was born into the world at 1:37 a.m. on Tuesday, August 24th. The second they put him on my chest, he took a shit on me. Fecal matter would even stay on my wrist band for a while to come. He weighed 8.1 pounds and was 21.5" long. They kept having to check his blood for some reason or another by poking his itty bitty little foot and that made me super sad because I doubt that was the thing he wanted to feel upon first arrival into this crazy world of ours. All I wanted to was to hold him and never let him go.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: You may forget the pain of labor but you never forget the fruits of it. On my first anniversary as a mother I can honestly say I was incomplete before my son came into my world. At the risk of sounding too Jerry Maguire, Casey completes me.
Hello and welcome to the final installation of Casey Tuesday. He is 52 weeks old today. Today marks the first time I can not refer to him as any months old because tomorrow he will be a one-year old. I will not call him "12 months." That's just silly. The photo above was taken at his birthday party this past Saturday. It was right before he burst into tears when everyone sang happy birthday to him. It was also right before he dove into that cake and was covered in blue frosting. Of all the colors, I'd have to say blue stains the skin quite nicely. My wee smurf.
He was spoiled with so many nice things and so many people came over to celebrate the anniversary of his birth. We're so grateful for everyone who attended and everything he received. He was nice enough to take a nap while the adults ate their food and woke up just in time for cake. Opening gifts really was of no interest to him so he allowed his cousins Amari and Ethan to do that for him. In the middle of the chaos, he grabbed his harmonica and sat on Grandpa Dough's lap. Silly goose.
I'm pretty sure Casey is teething again otherwise he is re-entering the newborn stages of sleep. He wakes often and cries frequently. I'm not a fan. What I am a fan of is that he seems to be interested in Handy Manny, a Disney show that comes on at 6 a.m. He actually watches that show so I can lie in bed and not have to jump right up to entertain him. This is like the first program ever to capture his interest aside from the movie Cars. My boy is going to be a Disney fan just like his mama and that feels real good.
I decided I would stop the weekly Casey updates in the same way that BFF doesn't want to refer to her daughter as x-months old. I feel like you saw him through the fetal process and you've seen him through a year and that ought to do. I'll still bring him up when he does something interesting but I am not interested in making this a mommy blog.
And on that note, I will leave you with a link to our first family portraits and Casey's final installation of his monthly JC Penney Portraits. Twelve photo sessions in as many months, I'm surprised he's not throwing the Zoolander Blue Steel by now. Enjoy!