Pulled Ova!

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.


Belated Haiku Movie Review

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


Happy Birthday, CD!

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...

In the meantime, please go wish her a happy happy.


Tuesday. Yup.

  • 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!


Sicky Face Haiku Friday

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?


Happy Birthday, Moo Lady!

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").


Big Day Haiku Friday

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.


Tummy Tuesday Part II

Here are some things we know about baby #2 (a.k.a. Segundo) so far:
  • Conceived on October 5th (a.k.a. Husband's birthday)
  • Due June 28th (a.k.a. BFF's daughter's birthday)
  • That would make "it" a Cancer.
  • If it's a girl, we decided on Alayna Christin for a name. Hubby's dad's name is Alan and that's my mom's middle name.
  • If it's a boy, we have compromised on Andrew because Hubby likes Drew and my mom's name is Andrea and I'm more partial to Andy. Middle name is still undetermined.
  • I am not taking my Zyrtec and it is OBVIOUS. I forgot about that.
  • I am not sleeping well already because of CRAZY dreams and the urge to pee every two hours. I also forgot about that.


Weekend Wrap Up

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.


DMV Haiku Friday

Got vanity plates
For our "new" Ford Flex wagon
Ready for pickup
I made a wise choice
Appointment at DMV
They saw me early
I pimped my G-ride
Honk if you see me!



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.



MORAL OF THE STORY: Go and wish her a happy happy and then I might just blog again....