We like to party all the time

We're hosting a birthday party on Saturday. And it's not just any birthday party, it happens to be Brodie's FIRST birthday party. Can you believe that? Brodie is going to be one next week. (And that makes me officially old, because I can now quantify my child's age in years as opposed to days, weeks or months.) One! Where has the last year gone? He seems so advanced, he's done everything so early I feel like he's literally running out of the baby stage and turning 12 years old. I tried to tell him that he's not allowed to have any more birthdays but just like when I tell him not to unfold all the dish towels it's in one ear and out the other.

But the planning of his party has been enjoyable, at least for me. I'm pretty sure that everyone around me is sick and freaking tired of discussing the pros and cons of homemade red velvet cupcakes and butter cream icing vs. a boxed cake mix but I've had a good time making and sampling cupcakes. (Come on - who doesn't love a cupcake?! Oh, really? Well, I'll eat yours.) And I know for a fact that if I bring up party decorations to the Bee again he's going to strangle me with streamers and stick candles in all my orifices. (And not in a fun way, either.) I guess we have strikingly different ideas of how to celebrate a one-year-old's birthday party.

For example...

• Superjanel: "I think we should get a banner for Brodie's party, you know, one that says, 'Happy Birthday, Brodie' on it." Bee: "If they're at his party, they're gonna know his freaking name."
• Bee: "Do you think a keg would be out of line?" Superjanel: "Can you get kegs filled with apple juice? He's turning one; ask again in twenty years."
• Superjanel: "Do you realize we're sending out forty invitations to our son's birthday party?" (Imagine look of shock and awe; for the most part I can't think of 40 people I want to spend 10 minutes with let alone an entire afternoon.) Bee: "That's all? Who did we forget? Let me see that list..."

Fun, fun, fun.

Oh, here's some news for you. The Bee and I have come to another stage in our relationship: we're getting married June 11. Now there's a shocker, huh? We've been the ultimate transitional couple - together but not together, living together, not living together, totally not together, together but don't tell anyone, together, not together, together, in jail, in limbo, together - for the last three years and now we're getting married. I'm not offended by the look on your face; up until we applied for the marriage license a couple weeks ago I'll admit that I was one of our biggest doubters. And not because I doubt the Bee, his feelings for me or his commitment to Brodie or myself - I was in complete denial that marriage is where we were headed.

Let's face it, I'm not exactly batting a thousand in the marriage department. And I've been the relationship asshole for the better part of the last year. (You know every relationship has at least one "relationship asshole" - the person that's snarky for the sake of snark, mean for no reason, unhappy with everything, and the first to pack their bags - or pack the other person's bags - when things get hard.) I'll own that title and I can't even give you a good reason for it other than fear. But it's time to grow up. We're living the life - kids and house and bills - we're forever intertwined. And for all the time we complain about it (and who doesn't complain about it at one point or another?), we're actually pretty happy. And since that's the case, let's make it official. I love the Bee. I love that we've created the most amazing person and we have another one on the way. And I'm genuinely happy to be getting married.

The wedding is not a big deal. I don't mean that we're not taking it seriously, I mean it in the sense that we're taking the easy way out and getting married in front of a judge. It's in a courtroom. No kidding. Bring on the jokes about marriage and the proverbial "death sentence" - it makes me giggle that we're being "sentenced" to a lifetime together. Jokes aside, we'll be having a party in the fall to celebrate and have all our friends and family together. At this party, we might even have a banner, a keg and more than 40 people, no arguments from me.

The art of doing nothing.

Three weeks? Three whole weeks, are you kidding me? What the heck have I been doing for three whole weeks that I've been too busy to write? I have no idea. Nothing spectacular, that's for sure. I've lost my motivation for a lot of things, which is weird because I finally feel like the Mini Bee and I are starting to agree on a routine. I'm getting more sleep than I've been able to get in months and yet I'm just exhausted all the time. What's up with that?

As usual, things around here are in a constant state of flux. The only constant thing in life is that things are always changing. The Bee got laid off again this week. Awesome, right? Yeah... The last round only lasted two weeks but it felt like two months and we were ready to kill each other. This time around it's predicted he'll be out of work until spring. Spring! That's two whole seasons away! I'll be 30 before he heads back to work! What are we going to do for six whole months? He's got some ideas, some projects, some side jobs, thankfully, because that's a long time for us to just sit around and stare at each other. But if we don't keep our attitudes in check it's going to be a rough few months.

It's Thursday - usually on Thursdays at this time I can be found standing barefoot in a line of women (and one man) ranging from pleasantly plump to crazy heavy, waiting to weigh in for the week. Instead I'm home this morning. I actually have things to do and the timing of my Chubby Kids meeting just doesn't work with everything else there is to do. Mini Bee is starting to cut teeth and his naps and eating schedule have been all messed up the last few days. I hate dragging him to Chubby Kids when he's not had a morning nap - he just wails and I have to leave early anyway. (It's rare that he's ever really unhappy but when he is, he's definitely not shy about letting you know.) But those are just excuses. Mostly it's the fact that I've fallen so far off the Chubby Kids cart that I refuse to weigh in this week. I have to get back on track. My stomach has been upset lately and I've been having heartburn (which I haven't had since Mini Bee was born) and I know it's because I've been eating like a cow. Like last night, I was up at 12:30 eating Wheat Thins. I've never been a middle of the night eater - I felt really guilty, standing in the kitchen with my hand in a box of crackers, but not guilty enough to stop eating. Ugh. And then when I woke up this morning I was still hungry for breakfast. What the French, toast?

Moo.

Speaking of food, there's a new eater in the house. Mini Bee is big enough that we've added fruits, veggies and cereal to his diet. And he loves it! He seems to enjoy just about everything we've tried but especially likes prunes and sweet potatoes. Kingsley thinks it's pretty cool that Brodie is eating food - he gets the leftovers. And that explains why Kingsley has been farting so much lately. Apparently prunes aren't good for boxer puppies. :)

So tomorrow my oldest little brother is moving to Colorado. For some reason, I didn't think this would effect me as much as it is. Craig came over yesterday to sort out some stuff we have stored for him in the garage and I cried when he left. I'll see him tonight and it's not like I'll never see him again. But he's more than just my brother, he's a good friend. And I'm going to miss him. He's moving because the love of his life just moved out there; I can't think of a better reason for him to go, especially when she's as sweet as she is. They seem to get along exceptionally well - they're great together. And so I wish him the best of luck. :)

But like I said, I have things to do today. Brodie and I are heading to Williamsburg to pick up one of my favorite aunts. He needs to have breakfast, I need to shower, got to go to the post office, have to run by the union hall - so much to do and all before noon, when I need to be in Indianola to eat lunch with my mom. So I'm going to get busy.

Oh happy day!

Today is going to be a good day. I can just feel it.

It's Wednesday, hump day. Doesn't that just sound dirty? I mean, I know that the hump is referring to the middle of the week and not camels or, you know... I guess it's just the third grader in me that giggles whenever I hear the phrase "hump day."

I just woke up in a good mood this morning. And that usually makes for good days. It's sunny outside, warm but not hot, clear skies - all that makes for good days too. Maybe later I'll round up the MiniBee and we'll go for a walk. (Round him up - duh. Like I don't know where he is at all times...)

Want to know who is not having a good day?

Jailbird Kingsley

Kingsley. Kingsley is not having a good day. Kingsley decided very early on that he was going to be a jerk today. He's usually obnoxious in the morning - it's like he's so excited to be awake he can't help it. He runs up and down the stairs, off the sofa and back again - and I generally don't mind nor do I get in his way. But this morning he added a new facet to the routine and started barking, right in Brodie's face. Not cool, Pootie. Not cool at all. Now Pootie is in puppy prison, for at least part of the day.

So I guess it's not universally a good day. Good day for SuperJanel? Indeed. Good day for Pootie? Not so much. Good day for Brodie? It's always a good day for Brodie; this kid hardly ever has a bad day. Good day for the Bee? I'm not sure; he's always grumpy in the morning and that makes it hard to tell. Good day for that Harvard professor and the cop that arrested him? Not today but tomorrow they're getting drunk with the Prez, how can that be a bad day? Good day for Brett Favre (Faaaahhv-re)? Eh, probably not, he's staying retired. But ask him tomorrow, you never know.

Anyway.

Yesterday, I did not Shred. I did not do anything. (I feel like Dr. Seuss here. "I will not eat green ham on a train, I will not eat green ham on a plane...") Mega-Nazi bizzo Jillian finally won - she strained my left knee to the point of no motion. I felt extremely lazy and my appetite was out of control. You know, I'm not sure if no exercise and a ravenous appetite are related, especially in such a short amount of time, but it weighs heavily enough on my mind that even a false connection stands as a great motivator. Exercise = no cravings = less food = fewer calories = losing pounds = successful weigh-in at Chubby Kids. Although really, I could break that down to exercise = successful weigh-in at Chubby Kids and save myself a lot of time and thinking. So today I will Shred. And probably go for a walk. If the dog isn't still in doggie jail this evening I'll take him out for a long walk; he's a good walking buddy. Definitely more entertaining than most people I know.

Did I tell you Brodie's exciting news? He rolled over on Sunday morning. I'm pretty sure the crying that ensued was due to my excitement and yelling, not the act of rolling over. I didn't even get a picture, I was so busy clapping and screaming. It wasn't the most graceful movement but it was definitely a roll over. He's getting so big! Then Monday night was our first night of rice cereal. He's had cereal in his bottle before (he used to really enjoy it and then he started refusing his cereal bottles, I'm not sure why) but this was his first time with cereal from a spoon. And I consider the entire operation a success - more cereal stayed in his mouth than came back out. And he slept like a rock that night and pooped twice the next day. Go Brodie go! Last night he fell asleep just as the six o' clock news came on because he didn't nap all day and stayed asleep until 3:30 this morning. His schedule will be a little off today but we ought to be better by tonight. He's getting to the age where he's really a lot of fun. I get to watch him experience things for the first time - his facial expressions are priceless. He loves to talk and coo and laugh, especially at Mommy. He loves to give kisses and suck on his thumb and he really likes his bathtime. Being a mom is more than I ever thought it could be - I can't even put it into words.

One of Little Man's favorite places to be: his lights and sounds activity gym. Not that you can see the lights or hear the sounds; trust me, it lights up and makes noise.

Brodie's not quite sure what to think of rice cereal.

Brodie and Daddy hanging out. OMG, they look alike.

Grandma gave Little Man some vanilla pudding. :)

And now I'm off to get busy. I have to Shred and give MiniBee a bath and take the dog out and pick up yard bombs and feed the baby (after I wash my hands, of course). So much to do, I'm so very busy.

Ha.

It's Thursday, I got nothing

I have to give credit where credit is due. I have to thank Jillian Michaels' for her hand in this week's spectacular weight loss at Chubby Kids - I lost 3.8 pounds. I haven't done much different as far as my eating habits or my points so unfortunately it seems that exercising in her stupid little six-minute circuits seems to be doing the trick.

Hey, I just said I had to thank her. I didn't say I had to be nice to her. She may have aided in my weight loss this week but she's still a horse face bizzo that sucks the fun out of my mornings.

I took Pootie with me to Dairy Queen tonight. And before you all start calling me a big hypocrite for going to Chubby Kids and Dairy Queen all in the same day, I had a slushie, damn it. Back off. (LAY OFF ME, I'M STARVING.) But the great thing about driving around with the Pootie is watching him stick his head out the window. His cheeks flap in the wind and his tongue hangs out and looks all funny. It's great. If I weren't busy driving and balancing my slushie and the Bee's Blizzard, I'd have tried for a picture. Alas, it was not to be. Maybe next time.

The Bee and I have been at each other's throats all week. He's stressing about money and tired from work; I'm stressing about finding a job and started that stupid Shred DVD. We're both cranky and pissy and just plain mad about life in general; the only thing we can agree on is that MiniBee is awesome. Except for when he poops beside his diaper and not in his diaper; we pretty much agreed that that was not awesome. By the time that was over we were all covered in crap and Brodie was the only one happy about it. I still don't know how that works exactly but that's what happened.

Anyway. I'm tired of complaining and just plain tired in general. MiniBee is down for the night; I think I'm going to turn in early.

Monday morning musings

The Mini-Bee is 10 weeks old today. He's been smiling all the time and cooing. He puts together a vowel and a consonent sound (ooh-ga, usually) and tries so hard to laugh - you can see it in his eyes when he's laughing - it won't be long before we hear him giggling. He hasn't rolled over yet but I think that has to do with the fact that he doesn't spend a lot of time on his tummy and hasn't developed those muscles. He's not a big fan of tummy time and I'm not a big fan of making him cry but we're working on it.

I have a job interview today. I'm nervous about this interview, more so than others I've been to. Does that mean that I want this job more than I want other jobs or does that mean it's been a long time between interviews and I'm just nervous about interviewing in general? I don't know. What I do know is that if I don't get a job soon I'm going to go bonkers. I'm in need of some adult conversation, some big people interaction. I find myself hanging out at Target, lingering in the laundry aisle, desperate to make conversation with random strangers.

No, not really. But it won't be long...

I should really lay off the coffee; I'm nervous enough as it is. If I keep up the coffee drinking I'll be Parkinson-ing my way through my meeting with my potential employer and then he won't want to hire me because I'm awesome, he'll hire me because I fulfill two minority categories - female and disabled AND I'm awesome.

The weekend was sort of a bust. The Bee and Mini-Bee and I went camping with the Bee's family. Again. For the second weekend in a row. And I was miserable. I couldn't sleep. I got attacked by a 12-pound mosquito and was surrounded by frogs and had a huge, sweaty, snoring Bee drooling on my shoulder in the 212% humidity all night. I didn't sleep at all. So Saturday morning I got up and declared that Mini-Bee and I were going home. I'd had enough. I was sweaty and itchy and frizzy and dirty and oh-so-tired. I was miserable and I was making people around me miserable and I wanted to go home. So we did. And you'd have thought I hauled off and kicked the Bee in the shins and broken his favorite toy given the look on his face. But he did have a good time, a much better time than he would have had with me there.

Pootie came home yesterday. I had to get him a new collar and it took an hour of scrubbing in the tub to get the kennel smell off of him, but he's home and seems to be happy. Is his attitude any better? Eh... He still doesn't listen for crap but he seems a little calmer; maybe that's what happens when you get your balls clipped off. (Poor guy.) When he first got home he was mad at me - he wouldn't come to me at all and wouldn't look at me in the bathtub. But I put his new collar on him and he's now my best bud. I missed that little wrinkly face.

I think I hear Mini-Bee waking up. The full-size Bee's almost sister-in-law is coming this morning to watch him while I go to my interview. I should probably get in the shower so I'm a little prepared when she gets here. I have a much better chance of getting a job if I don't smell like a foot.

Wish me luck.

Don't bother. This post is boring.

I can't sleep.

It's nearly 2 a.m. and I'm still awake. Yup, I'm still awake as in I haven't been to bed yet this evening. At this point, I'm trying to stay awake because Brodie generally wakes up around 2-2:15 to be changed and fed. And to fall asleep for 30 minutes would just be painful.

I hadn't blogged in a while, going on three weeks, and then I blogged the other night in a fit of self-pity. It wasn't pretty. It was so not pretty that I took it down the next morning. That post won't be coming back soon. It's not that I don't have time to blog; I do. It's not that I don't have things to talk about; I do. I just don't seem to have my words lately - nothing seems to flow like it used to. My conversation, in person and online, seems to gravitate towards the Mini Bee, and rightfully so, he's terrifically interesting. (At least I think so.) For those that aren't related to us, and probably for some that are related to us, that probably gets old. Hell, sometimes I think I've given all the Mini Bee related news and then I open my mouth and surprise myself with more.

A lot of that has to do with the fact that I'm currently home on what I'm still referring to as "maternity leave" even though that insinuates that I've only temporarily left somewhere, not left somewhere on a permanent vacation, which is a little closer to the truth. And being on "leave" is fantastic; I enjoy being home with Brodie. But let's face it - he's not much for conversation just yet. I talk ALL THE TIME and get no response. So when I'm around adults I find myself gabbing away. Sometimes I'll listen to what I'm saying and have no idea what's coming out of my mouth; I guess I get pretty excited over a little interaction among big people.

The point is that I could come here every day and bore you to death with the mundane details of life with a two-month old. Or I could post sporadically, when the urge strikes and I have something fabulous to say.

Unfortunately for you, dear reader, this post is neither. Because as I write it, and as I'm sure you read it, it's boring as poo. There is nothing fabulous occurring here. I admit it.

*Sigh.*

It's tough being mediocre. Good thing I don't have to experience that on a regular basis.

We're going camping this weekend. We consists of myself, the Bee, and the Mini Bee. We're heading to Lake Rathbun on Friday afternoon and we'll be home Sunday morning, the earlier the better. That boils down to about 40 hours of camping. I keep a mental countdown running at all times; it makes me feel better about the idea of sleeping in a tent.

This won't be our first camping trip this year. Last weekend we were at the lake for a couple of nights - the first night was great, I slept like a log and Brodie slept in the camper with the Bee's parents. About the time I got attacked by the tree frog in the shower house was when things started going downhill, at least for me. The Bee got pissy when everyone went to bed at 8:30 on Friday night and he realized that drinking alone in your campsite while your campmates sleep is actually pretty pathetic. Top that off with 18 hours of pouring rain and that makes for crabby campers all around, especially those that sleep in a tent. A leaky tent. More specifically, a tent with a leak directly above my forehead. Water torture, anyone?

Bueller? Bueller?

That's what I thought.

We're camping (again) with the Bee's family. His parents have a fifth-wheel trailer with air conditioning and a flat screen tv. If only they had wi-fi, it'd be perfect. But last weekend I sat in the camper, warming up something to eat and watching Regis and Kelly while sitting in the a/c and laughed at myself for calling that camping. I've stayed in hotels that weren't as nice.

But in exchange for this weekend's camping trip I have gained the Bee's word that we will be viewing the new Harry Potter flick next week, come hell or high water. I've seen every Harry Potter movie on opening day in the theatre - there were showings where I was not only the oldest in the room but also the tallest. And *yes* - I've read the books. And *yes* - I know how it's going to end. But I still want to see it. Consumerism in the flesh.

It's now 2:10 a.m. and not a peep from the Mini Bee. I think it would be stupid to wake him up but I know as soon as I drift off he'll start to whimper. Or, I'll sit here all night, waiting for him to wake up and it'll be one of those nights he sleeps all the way through.

Doh!

I'm hungry. But it's now officially Thursday and I don't eat on Thursdays until after chubby kids weigh-in and that's not for another 8 hours. I think I'll lie here, wait for the Mini Bee to wake up and think about waffles and peanut butter. And milk. And ice cream. OMG. I think I may starve.

while the little man naps...

brodie doesn't mind if mommy facebooks or checks her email. but brodie throws a fit everytime mommy even thinks about blogging. he's got a sixth sense that tells him that i might be thinking about something other than him and that is just unacceptable - WAHHH! but he seems to be sleeping pretty soundly at the moment so i'm going to give this a try.

things around here are pretty good, for the most part. brodie is growing like a weed and is changing everyday. he's started staying awake longer - most afternoons we get four or five solid hours of awake time with him, which is kind of fun, except that i'm not always sure what i should be doing with him. so we sing and we dance and i tell him what i'm doing as i'm doing it. he's not a big fan of tummy time and i'm not a big fan of making the baby cry, so we do a few minutes on his activity mat until the frustration of not being able to see takes over and he starts screaming. he loves his swing and he's getting to love his bouncy seat. i'll set him up on the counter in his bouncy seat and let him watch while i cook or clean or make bottles. eating is still his favorite activity as the little porker weighed in at 11 pounds, 9 ounces at his last doctor's appointment over a week ago. just two nights ago he slept through the night, from 9:30 to 4:30. and last night he slept from 10 to 6. the bee and i are getting so much sleep lately we're not sure how to act if we can't be tired and grumpy.

not that we're not still grumpy, we just can't blame it on brodie.

the bee and i? well, we're still plodding along on the sidewalk that is our life. sometimes we walk beside each other, sometimes i walk behind him and kick the bottoms of his feet and sometimes he runs to the bar nearest our path and hides out for a while. i can't say that things are perfect; i don't know if things will ever be perfect. i guess for the moment we're tolerating the status quo. how's that for true love and bliss?

things around here are changing, though, and not really by choice. the bee got laid off this week - that goes into effect on friday - and i've been trying to contact giant conglomerate bank to find out about going back to work and so far no one has responded. to be perfectly honest, i'm not heartbroken over this - i hate my job - but i would at least think if they didn't want me back they'd tell me. i have been looking for other work; there has to be a job somewhere that i can at least tolerate, i'm just not sure what it is. the bee is picking up odd jobs for friends and family and doing what he can to stay busy. he's talking about working for his uncle in chicago for a week or so and wouldn't that be a fun family vacation? right...

i don't know. i'm trying hard not to stress over things i cannot control and to manage what i can without making people around me crazy.

little man is waking up; i need to make a bottle and get my day going.

can i have four beers?

it feels like monday. it's really tuesday. the holiday on monday has messed up my week already, not that i had anything big planned - my days pretty much run together anymore. save for the occasional trip to target or the post office, all my days are pretty much the same. and that's okay, me and brodie do just fine - putzing around, doing a whole lot of not much at all. he's my little buddy. :-)

one thing i did have to do today was go to court. see, i never really offered a lot of detail before, but a few months ago i found myself in a just a wee little bit of legal trouble. the circumstances were pathetic and far from ideal but it was technically my fault. and so i've been sweating the outcome for the last few months. my pre-trial conference was today and i was fully prepared for whatever that means, i really didn't know. in fact, i still don't know what goes on at those because at mine, my attorney and the county attorney negotiated a lesser charge, one that i don't have to disclose to potential employers, and a teeny weeny fine. WOOHOO! i am jailbird janel no longer!

i can say that the experience has taught me that i have completely missed my calling. i should have been an attorney. how terrific would i be at a job where i argue with people all day for lots of money? i mean really. i would rock that job like a hurricane and we're not talking wimpy little tropical storms. i could katrina that job if i set my mind to it. BUT... but that would mean how much more school? and how much more in student loans? and right now all i want to do is talk baby talk to little man; i'm hardly suitable for adult conversation.

however, speaking of school, i am considering another bout of grad school. there are some programs locally and at the school where i did my undergrad that sound interesting and at least worth investigating. i may end up being the most educated stay-at-home-parent in my zip code but at least i'll feel good about myself, right? riiiight...

the bee and i were discussing daycare and my venture back to the whippy dip and most likely (eventually) giant conglomerate bank. neither of us are too excited for me to go back to work and put the little man in daycare. in spite of my education, i'll be working to pay for someone to watch the little guy and very little else. i've never wanted to work (let's be honest, i hate working and i'm really good at staying home) but now i actually have a reason to stay home - a really good reason. again, i'm not sure what the answer to this dilemma is - hopefully something presents itself soon. technically, i'm supposed to be back at giant conglomerate bank by the middle of next month and back to the whippy dip even earlier than that. i just don't know.

i may have already mentioned this, but the idea of someone watching little man all day everyday bothers me immensely. i don't want to miss out on watching him grow up and do all the spectacular things that little ones do. but the advice i've been given (not to mention my own conscience) is leading me to believe that falling into the position of a stay-at-home-mom - dependent on someone else (ahem, buzz buzz) to bring home the bacon and be happy about it - may not be the most sound decision at this point.

and as long as i'm talking about things that have bothered me, let me bring this up. my son turned three weeks old yesterday, right? three weeks. and he's met the majority of his family and lots of his extended family even. but do you know who hasn't rushed up to see him, in spite of the fact that he said that he would? my dad. my dad has yet to meet his grandson. my dad and his crazy wife have yet to drive 90 minutes to meet my son. my dad, who on the day i delivered, said that he'd be there. my dad, who two days after i delivered said that he'd make the trip up that first weekend. yup. my dad hasn't so much as called to see how we're doing, much less travel to meet my baby. do you have any idea how much this bothers me? when i called my dad the monday after mother's day, guess what we talked about? we talked about my half-sister's kids and his crazy wife's grandkids. i got all of 30 seconds in on the topic of the fabulousness of baby brodie; he just didn't want to talk about it.

i can't even begin to explain how peeved i am - how much i'm insulted by his behavior. yes, i know, concessions should be made because my father isn't the man he used to be. and i ought to cut him some slack because he's old and not well. but i'm going to come right out and say that i'm tired of making concessions for someone who only has his own best interests at heart. i'm tired of making excuses based on a lack of good health and mental instability for this man. i understand that he is what he is and i should accept him for that - he's always been a flake and we've (my brothers and i) always come second to his life, his agenda, his needs. but i am honestly hurt by his lack of interest in the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. and i'm not going to be the one to reach out anymore. he's the one that's missing out on getting to know brodie. lucky for brodie, he has other grandparents that adore him and can't see him often enough.

and now my blood pressure is through the roof. i need a pill. or maybe a beer. do you know that i haven't had a drop to drink in 10 months? i know that i'm able to drink now but i'm afraid that the first sip will knock my ass out; i've lost my tolerance and i'm back to being the drunk chick two sips into my margarita at the mexican restaurant.

oh, woe is me.

a sunday morning quickie

get your minds out of the gutter.

brodie will be three weeks old tomorrow! at his last check-up, little man weighed in at 9 pounds, 9 ounces - and that was last monday. who knows? we may have broken the 10-pound barrier since then. this kid is an eater - every two to four hours - he never willingly misses a meal. most of the time it's just me and him, putzing around the house, getting the mail, taking lunch to the bee at work. i'm falling into the trap of domestic-ism and easily so; the idea of going back to work at giant conglomerate bank makes me want to cry. i don't want to miss any days with little man and the idea of someone else (such as daycare or a babysitter) watching him everyday makes me sad. i don't know what the answer is - hopefully it makes itself clear soon.

as for me, i get some sleep here and there. i do a lot of laundry. i've lost 33 pounds but i still have a few to go. my body has completely changed shape and none of my clothes fit. i'm seriously contemplating muu-muus as this summer's fashion statement. i could wear muu-muus, sport flip-flops and eat bon-bons all summer, because obviously if it's hyphenated it's worth my time.

the bee and i are good about half the time, which really translates to daylight hours because after the sun goes down he's a bear. he's either such a heavy sleeper that he doesn't hear little man cry or he has far more tolerance for the sound of an unhappy baby than i do; i'm not sure and i don't really care - i find both options equally annoying. so most of our arguments take place in the middle of the night while we're both half-asleep and mostly incoherent. in all actuality though, it seems to work okay for now because neither of us remember what was really said or done (or not done in some cases) but we both know we need to apologize for something. our morning conversations go something like this...

janel: "hey. hey. HEY. it's 6:45, you wanted to leave the house ten minutes ago."
the bee: "hi. you need to brush your teeth. i don't know what i said last night but i'm sorry."
janel: "i don't know what you said either but okay. sorry i hit you with the pillow all those times."
the bee: "it's okay; i deserved it - i was being an asshole. but really, you need to brush your teeth."
janel: "i freaking get it. lay off my teeth there, nuclear waste mouth. aren't you late for work?"
the bee: "oh hell. what time is it? why didn't you wake me up?"

and so on and so forth - you can see where this is going. and so begins another beautiful day in our neighborhood...

brodie's cousin kooper loaned us his stroller. it's the coolest thing ever. all these bells and whistles and straps and baskets and handles and buttons. the only thing it doesn't do is make toast. i'm kind of excited to get out and walk with little man this week.

tomorrow is memorial day; i think i'm working at the whippy dip but i'm not sure. i can see how that place eats managers for dinner - yesterday we were welcomed by two machines full of sour ice cream and a cooler full of sour, chunky ice cream mix. luckily (and i honestly mean this) i was the only one that tasted just how bad the stuff really was - if we'd sold much of it we'd probably have a lawsuit on our hands. i don't think dead customers or botulism are good advertising tools.

yesterday was the first day i left little man with his grandma. i wasn't worried about them, leaving brodie with my mom is like me watching him, you know? but it was the first time that i was really without him for nearly 11 months now - i felt like i'd left my right leg at home. it was very bizarre. once i got over it (which is really to say once i stopped sobbing, which was about 43 miles into my 56 mile trip) i was okay. it was nice to talk to adults and have conversations about things other than poop. but i missed him all day and couldn't wait to get back to see him last night.

the bee is working overtime (OT BABY! WOOHOO for RENT!) this weekend on a big nasty project so it's just me and brodie today. we've got some errands to run and groceries to buy and some stuff to do but we have to be home by 4 p.m. for the start of the Coca Cola 600. i'm going to give little man his first lesson in nascar: jeff gordon is a dipshit and kevin harvick rules. :-)

i'm a fast learner

i've never had a better reason for not writing than i do at this very moment. it's not that i don't want to write, i've got all sorts of things to say - i just don't have the time. it's amazing how one little person can manipulate all my time, all the time. he's really good at it - and he's only 10 days old. imagine what lies ahead...

so in honor of brodie being 10 days old and me finding 17 minutes to myself where i'm not asleep or trying to be asleep, here's what i have learned in my first 10 days as mommy.

• there is no such thing as "sleeping like a baby." babies don't sleep. they toss and turn and grunt and snort and fart and burp and moan and groan. or at least my baby does. it sounds like we're keeping a herd of piglets in the bassinette as opposed to our super adorable baby brodie.
• babies may be cute but they can make some really ugly and funny faces.
• you can't "sleep when baby sleeps" (i must have heard this about 50 trillion times over the last 10 months, for real!) if the baby doesn't sleep. and there are times when baby brodie doesn't sleep.
• just because the diaper is full of poop doesn't mean that baby is necessarily done pooping.
• babies will pick the most expensive and hardest to clean blanket in the room and then pee all over it. twice.
• some babies are talented enough to pee in their own ear.
• my son is very, very talented.
• there is apparently nothing more monotonous to a baby than the weather channel. it puts him to sleep every time. :-) and when meteorology doesn't put him to sleep, and five hours of rocking and dancing and singing with mommy doesn't work either, just hand brodie to daddy - five minutes later they're both sound asleep.
• licking napkins and wiping faces is apparently a genetic thing that can't be helped. it just happened, i swear!
• bath time is no fun for baby brodie. but it's fun for mommy.
• pooties love brodies. :D
• suddenly every waking moment is an opportunity for a cute picture. i can't get enough pictures of a sleeping brodie, it's the cutest thing ever.

i'm sure there are many, many more - i just can't think of anymore right now. one thing have learned, and very quickly so, is that my brain is now mush. i shouldn't be allowed to make any sort of decisions, big or small, right now. i'm lucky i remember my own name.

and now i'm going to watch the office while the little guy sleeps. priorities, right?

the new love of my life

the waiting is over, baby brodie is here.

he's amazing. he's perfect. he's beautiful. he's enormous. he's the spitting image of his father - it's adorable. his eyes are a deep, deep blue (and subject to change, i know) and his little face is just perfect. i'm in love, completely and totally head over heels for this little person that i've just met but that i've known for the last nine months. it's the most overwhelming, terrifying, intense feeling i've ever felt - but it comes with relief and happiness and joy, pure joy.

really, there are no words to describe how i feel. it's just incredible.

i swear - there are pictures but i can't get them to you tonight. i'm calling this a "connection" problem but it's probably just really tired lady operator error. but we go home tomorrow and i'll do my best to get them posted just as soon as possible. i can't wait for you all to see his little face.

he's worth the wait.

cankles what?

a quickie post to satiate the needs of my readers. and to those four people that read this on a regular basis, please accept my most sincere apologies. i didn't know you existed, lol.

so here we go - in no order of importance, just as they come to me - one paragraph (or less) on the things that are happening in my life.

pootie: so despite all our best efforts, kingsley did not win the cutest canine contest. i appreciate all (one) of you that voted with me. he missed the mark by about 6,300 votes, give or take. i think the whole thing was rigged but i'm not clamoring for a recount. he was disappointed, momentarily, and then i gave him a new chew bone and now all is well in the world of the pootie. we've moved on to more important things, like trying to teach him that the big bed is for mommy and daddy and the floor (complete with pillows and a blanket, he's hardly suffering) is for kingsley. now, just so you don't leave here thinking that i've suddenly decided to walk the hard line with the dog, this was 100 percent the bee's idea. but when we woke up this morning, there was the pootie, wedged in between us in the bed, his blanky abandoned on the floor. score: pootie 1, bee 0.

work: it's no secret that i hate my job. i'm pretty open about my discontent with giant conglomerate bank and their policies on this and that, namely their policy that requires me to show up on a regular basis. it's also no secret that i've pushed my boss to his limit as far as my absences and his patience are concerned. so when it was suggested to me that "i should just quit" yesterday, i wasn't really that shocked. however, i was left wondering what exactly i had to do to get fired. i've never known anyone with an attendance record or even a performance record such as mine that wasn't fired. but me - can i get canned? oh heck no. when i went in for my exit interview with the center manager, not only was i encouraged to stay - he approved my short term personal leave, my short term disability leave, my fmla leave and pretty much said "come back when you want to." you've got to be kidding me. um, okay. sign me up. :) so now, i don't have to go back to work at giant conglomerate bank until the end of the summer - if i decide to go back at all.

bwahahahaha... sometimes it is good to be the janel.

the bee: oh the bee. the bee, the bee, the bee. some days i love him, some days i hate him. some days i want to run him over with the car. since our last quarrel, which has been about four days, things have been okay. we've been to baby school a couple more times, we survived the holiday (although that meant not communicating over the easter weekend while we ate dinner with our respective families). last night he was talking in his sleep and told me to "move over, cankles." what a peach. i have noticed, much to my chagrin, that if i pacify the bee with niceties that i'm more successful in getting what i want. now don't misunderstand - these aren't over the top niceties i'm providing here. we're talking about my not arguing, not having the last word, making dinner on a regular basis and pretty much just being a nice person. why do i find this so demoralizing? i'm not sure. it's hard for me to be nice sometimes. and then i remember that *i* picked *him* and i'm the only one responsible for my happiness in life. so if i can do little things that make life easier and happier i'd be stupid not to, right? right. i find that when i'm nice to him - SHOCKER! - he's nicer to me and the world continues to turn, just at a far less dramatic angle.

my mom: once again, my mom has been right about several things. she knows what they are and you already know she's smart. but i should take her advice on a more regular basis; day to day life would be easier.

the ice cream store: i don't talk about the ice cream store here often, except to say that 1) i heart ice cream and 2) i heart ice cream from the ice cream store. what i've not told you here is that i've always wanted to try my hand at running (or in this case, co-running) the ice cream store. remember what i told you about giant conglomerate bank and my leaves of absence? do you see where this is going? yup, it's headed to pella. it's in the works that prior to arrival of baby brodie and after my period of recuperation i'll be (partly) in charge of the ice cream store, along with my bestie nigel. i'm way excited about this, and not just in terms of the amount of ice cream i'll be consuming (lots!). a week from tomorrow is our opening day, just in time for the big tulip festivus for the rest of us and there's a lot to do but i'm looking forward to the challenge.

baby brodie: we're only 29 days out, ladies and gents. can you believe that? do you remember when i first broke this news last september? that seems so far away now, it's unbelievable that it's nearly may now. at this point, whenever i go into labor they're not going to stop it. so he could come tomorrow, he could come a month from now. and while i'm huge (seriously, a barn) and i'm uncomfortable (not back of a volkswagon uncomfortable, but pretty freaking close), i want this kiddo to take all the time he wants to bake to perfection. (ask me about this in two weeks and especially while i'm slinging ice cream at tulip time; my answer may be different.) but all the doctors i've seen have said that things are progressing as they should and in the words of one doctor, "this is gonna be a big baby."

and that's about it, that's all i've got for now. i'm gonna go start some dinner (chicken parmigiana, YUM!) and get cleaned up - we have more baby school tonight. this class is all about diapers - cloth diapers and the diaper service we're signing up for. it's not that we don't already know how diapers work but going to class gets us two free weeks of diaper service and if it's free, it's for me. i've been feeling especially crafty today - beyond making a big italian dinner and growing a person, i've also made my own laundry detergent. laugh if you want to (mom) but it smells really good. i might just start doing laundry for the fun of it.

right.

toilet humor, among other things

so there's this quiz on parents.com: "what kind of dad will he be?" and one of the questions is, "when the two of you throw a party, you can count on him to... A) keep everyone laughing, B) make his famous five alarm chili or C) hire the best caterer in town." i had to stop taking the quiz after this question as i was thoroughly stumped. there was no option D) get completely shitfaced and have to be carried to bed.

and yes, this is how i spend my time at work.

i have a lot on my mind this morning. some of it's important, some of it's just dumb. most of it's just dumb.

for instance - here's some dumb for you. it so happens that i spend a lot of time in the bathroom at work. there are several reasons for this, the first and most important being that i have to pee about 3 times an hour. the second reason, which is also important but not as much as the former, is that the bathroom is oft used as a reprieve from stupid customers or stupid coworkers. sometimes i just go there to nap. (only once, i swear. i felt pretty dumb coming out and my butt hurt really bad.)

anyway. with all the time i spend going back and forth, to and fro, i have a lot of time to think. and this morning i was thinking about underpants.

due to my current "condition" my underpant-buying habits have slowed to a complete halt. the last pair of underpants i bought weren't actually bought at all. and no, i didn't pocket them. it was one of those free panty giveaways at victoria's secret. do you guys get those cards in the mail too? i used to get them all the time and for some reason, i've not received any lately. so i got to thinking about this. does vs discriminate against the preggo? are they teamed up with the diaper giveaway people so that you only get offers for one free thing at a time - "oh, you're getting free diapers in the mail, you don't have a need for free thongs?" maybe they're offended that their last offer for free underpants was redeemed for BAPs - big ass panties - and they've removed me from any future mailings because i obviously don't fit the criteria for their target audience.

but let's face it, at this size and shape, i'm not fitting into much these days. you have no idea how i long to wear regular jeans again. i can't wait for real jeans that button and zip.

sigh.

ready for more dumb? i've got dumb for you. this train of thought also starts in the bathroom (shock!) - i encountered a new breed of weird this morning. i watched this chick wash her hands prior to entering the stall and then re-wash her hands upon exiting. now, part of me says, kudos to her for fully embracing her ocd at work. but on the other hand (lol, no pun intended) that's a lot of soap and water and paper towels she's using there - that certainly doesn't jive with giant conglomerate bank's effort to be the biggest, greenest bank in the world. imagine if we all washed before and after we did our business - that's a lot of wasted resources. so what's the answer here - really clean hands and a lot of dead trees or only moderately clean hands and a company's reputation saved?

and don't think that i'm mocking the severity of anyone's ocd. for crying out loud, i'm the girl that will drive by her own house seven times to make sure the garage door is shut and hasn't magically reopened.

yeah. that's me. and that was just last week.

i just realized that i made myself sound like a total bathroom lurker. i'm really not. i'm just really good at wasting time - mine and yours too, obviously. :)

enough dumb. how about some important stuff?

so brodie's crib mobile arrived yesterday and it is the cutest. thing. ever. for real. it makes the pootie crazy (which makes me wonder about the struggles we'll have over baby toys and pootie toys) but i love it. i got it all attached to his crib and just sat there yesterday afternoon and watched it for an absurd amount of time. but that got me thinking about the fact that we're only about six weeks away from baby day and i have a lot to do. and even more to buy!

it's been decided that i'm not having a baby shower. several factors played into this - it's not all about me and the bee.

1) the family and friends that i would invite, for the most part anyway, live far away. on top of that, i've been hitting these people up for money and gifts on a regular basis for the last 10 years. "look at me, i'm graduating high school! send me money, i'm getting married! send me more money, i'm getting married again! hey, check me out, i've harlan-ed my way through college but i'm finally graduating - send me some shit!" it just seems rude to ask for baby gifts after all the invitations that have gone out in the mail over the years.

2) there is some animosity between families of the bee and i. basically, my family can't stand him and his thinks that i'm a total raging lunatic. and why on earth would they buy gifts for the child of a total raging lunatic?

3) and this one wasn't as much of a factor as the first two, but many people i know are struggling financially right now. it seems really selfish of me to assume they have the means (never mind the desire) to purchase things for me and baby brodie.

so yeah. we registered and did all that, but it seems it was for naught. no shower, no hassle. and i really do like it that way. but it does leave more of a burden on me and the bee to find a way to provide all these things that we apparently need when we have trouble paying the rent most months. so we're relying on a lot of hand-me-downs and craigslist and ebay. and things are coming together, slowly but surely. there are a few big things we have to get - a carseat is one of them. there are a few big things that i'd like to get - a dresser, a swing, a pack-n-play - but they're not necessities. and then there's things that are obviously not necessary for survival but just sound like fun - like pee-pee teepees. don't those just sound like fun?

oh yeah.

so me and the bee. on again, off again. up and down. two steps forward, thirteen steps sideways and four steps back all while doing the hand jive. we agree, we disagree, we agree to disagree. who knows? i've decided to take a lackadaisical approach to the whole thing - it is what it is, maybe it'll get better, maybe it'll get worse. maybe we'll get it together, maybe we'll learn to be apart. all i know is that for right now, i can't deal with the drama anymore. so i'm not going to. and that's all i have to say about that. for right now, anyway.

superjanel out.

welcoming the wrecking ball

i think the hardest choices in life are the ones in which we have no say. obviously, there's the banal side to this statement for things such as weather or death - things we couldn't control if we tried. i'm more referring to the ones that other people or circumstances decide for us: those are harder for me to grasp because my mind plays the "what if?" game until i'm physically ill. not that knowing what could have happened if makes me feel any better - i generally feel worse. the fact remains that there's nothing i can do to change the outcome.

i know you all know what i'm talking about. but i'm referring to the bee and i. just a few days ago, our attitude was that we were going to try to work things out, over a period of time and in baby steps. it wasn't a spoken decision, it was an underlying theme to all our conversations. for the good of the baby, for the connection we had, for what we felt for each other - there was enough foundation there to perhaps rebuild the shanty that once stood with a nice, pre-fab modern structure. this morning the construction crew went on strike and all plans have been scrapped.

it's over.

this morning he says that he told me those things because he wanted to be nice. he doesn't love me anymore - he's reached his breaking point and is moving on. he will continue to care for me, in terms of my general health, but he'll wait to hear about the baby when he gets the letter in the mail from the department of human services. he has no connection to anything or anyone here any longer.

if i weren't already feeling so bad this morning, i probably would have cried to the point of vomiting. the thing is, somewhere deep down, i knew this was coming. i knew that any reconciliation would be like putting a band-aid on open heart surgery - a temporary solution to an enormous issue.

i had hoped, in typical needy-female fashion, that in spite of all our difference and difficulties that he and i would be able to pull it together for the sake of the child and that eventually all our problems and faults would fall to the wayside and a new kind of relationship would develop. don't misunderstand - that's happening here. it's just happening as we sit 70 miles apart and the problems don't matter much as the relationship that is developing is the one between two people who apparently can't be with or deal with one another.

it's not exactly what i had in mind. but how naive am i to believe that a baby could be the glue to hold us together? i'm going on 30 years old - it's a pretty pathetic storyline for someone who claims to be as smart as i like to think i am.

the thing that chaps my ass about all this? he's reached his breaking point, he's ready to move on. the natual question that comes to mind for me - where in the hell is my breaking point? why am i not ready to move on? why do i let him hurt me so much, why do i need him in my life, why do i cry over him when i know he's certainly not crying over me? where has my sense of self-worth gone? beyond being the partial creator of this child, what makes him so freaking special that he's worth my time?

i'm angry. i'm so, so angry. i'm angry with him for so many reasons but mostly i'm angry with myself for letting it get this far. i'm angry that i feel this hurt; i'm angry that i've let myself come to depend on someone whose only dependable trait is that they're chronically undependable.

some humor in all that diatribe though? if the dumbass doesn't submit a change of address to the post office he'll never know that he has a son; all his mail will come here and gather dust in the grocery sack in the closet. it's not my job to deliver his mail. although i would consider swapping it for a couple of sham-wows, the slimy bastard.

anyway.

so here i am, monday morning (again!?) and i'm supposed to be getting ready to go to the doctor for my 30-week check-up and then going to work. i'm not sure how much work i'll accomplish today: it seems that in the last week while hacking and coughing and carrying on like a lifelong smoker with terminal emphysema i've managed to literally twist my rib cage a little off center which is causing a tremendous amount of pain. i can't stand, i can't sit, i can't lie down - when i cough i want to fall over. and sneezing? i will attempt to blow out an ear drum or an eyeball before i'll let a sneeze escape these lips, otherwise i'll be wishing i were wearing rubber pants and sitting in the bathtub. it's just not pretty. ahh, the glorious side of being pregnant - the side no one tells you about. like wetting yourself on a regular basis or that your skin will thin out to the point where you can see each and every vein in your chest, no one tells you that all your joints become loose and lethargic to the point where it's actually possible to give yourself an injury like twisting your rib cage. see, if people knew this kind of stuff going in there would probably be far fewer babies. pregnancy is not for the weak.

on a happier note, and there is no sarcasm here - i'm truly happy about this - mom and i ordered brodie's crib and changing table this week and on saturday night i ordered his crib bedding and curtains and such. i'm excited to get things put together and in order, to help with planning a shower and washing little socks. his room will be adorable, although if what i hear is true, he won't actually spend a lot of time in his room for quite a while. that's okay; it'll look nice.

so yeah. i'm going to go get in the shower and carry on with life as best i can. it's not what i'd hoped for and not what i'd planned but how often do we really get what we want anyway? somebody bigger and smarter than me obviously knows what is going on here, i'm just waiting to hear the details.

superjanel OUT.

are we grading on a curve?

it smells like sausage at work today. there's no innuendo there, it just smells like a meat market. it's a little distracting - i'm trying to eat my animal crackers and drink my gatorade and my senses are overwhelmed with the scent of processed animal products. it's not doing a lot for my appetite.

how are you today? i'm okay. i slept really hard last night and that wasn't even due to the aid of cold, cough or allergy medicine. i think i was just tired. and with good reason. i'm back to my full-time schedule at work and while my job is far from physically taxing it wreaks havoc on me mentally. it gets hard listening to people's problems all day; things are just hard for everyone right now, across the board. i feel like i'm doing therapy again - the toll it takes on me is pretty similar. when i get home at night i just want to zone out, eat dinner, play with the dog and go to bed. and i have to say, that's the ideal life for a single someone in my condition. there are no discussions over what to have for dinner (cereal), there are no discussions about what to watch on tv (american idol) and there are no arguments over my lack of ambition to get out of the house and do something. because right now i pretty much don't want to do anything. there are advantages to being alone right now, i have to admit it.

but that doesn't mean that the bee and i aren't speaking. i left him alone for the better part of a week: no calls, no messages, no nothing. i found that when i was having the urge to talk to him i could just call someone else or distract myself with something else and i was actually better off for doing so: i wasn't worked up, i wasn't in tears, i wasn't stressed out. but the phone calls commenced about a week ago - about a week after our "episode." and the conversations that have taken place since leave me just as confused as i've ever been.

to paraphrase (heavily), we're not 100 percent happy together but we're both pretty miserable when we're apart. and it's not just me that agrees to this statement, it's a mutual feeling. but as far as what to do to fix it or if it can even be fixed, neither of us know what to do or how to feel. he feels that he makes and has made serious concessions toward my happiness and i feel i've done the same thing for him - we both feel slighted and diminished and under appreciated. but i wonder, and not really in advocation of being together but sort of as the devil's advocate - does anyone ever make anyone else 100 percent happy? will there ever be anyone who pleases me 100 percent of the time? is it like a school grading scale - "A" through "F"? anything above a 70 percent is passing? are we grading on a curve? (i am so screwed if this the case.) or is it just pass/fail, like 11th grade spanish?

(which by the way, i have never forgiven senora bellon for failing me for one little percentage point, when i *KNOW* she gave extra credit to other non-deserving students, not that this matters now...)

i don't know. i just don't know. i don't know what's best for me or for him, but i do know it's best for brodie if things stay calm. separate, together - we've got to relax. the bee says he wants to be at the birth, he wants to be in brodie's life (and not just on an every other weekend type of basis). but where does that leave us? because i'm not okay with the idea of platonically living under one roof and i don't believe that he is either. brodie is our number one concern right now; maybe if i just stop worrying about the bee and keep my priorities in line things will just work out? maybe if i just let it all go the right answer will appear?

sha, right. and maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt; you people know i can't just let things go, it's not my nature.

but that's where i am right now. emotionally, not literally. literally, i'm at work, taking up space and causing drama just by breathing. i love giant heartless conglomerate bank.

*sigh*

and now you know the rest of the story...

i had the most amazing experience with my son this morning. we were playing together, as much as you can play with your child when he's in utero. he would kick and i would cover that spot on my belly and he would kick me again. this went on for about 15 minutes - kicking and covering and kicking and poking - it was incredible. it dawned on me that this isn't just a baby, this is a person. this is a person with his own little personality, likes and dislikes, he'll have his own agenda and his own goals. and to think about that is just awesome and terrifying all at once, especially when you consider his parents...

i couldn't sleep last night. i wasn't upset about anything, i just couldn't breathe and as such i couldn't sleep. when i'm sick i get all dramatic and melancholy, i act like my father. lucky for everyone i know there was no one here to witness this except for the dog and he's not really the most sympathetic creature i've ever encountered. but not sleeping provided for plenty of time for watching mindless television (infomercials and the weather channel) and reading idiotic books.

i assume you've heard about the snuggie, the blanket with sleeves? a friend of mine likened this to wearing your robe backwards which is pretty much the truth. i don't have enough fingers to count how many times i've seen this commercial in the last 72 hours but every time i see it, i have the same thought: the heaven's gate cult absolutely chartered the popularity of the snuggie and none of those poor bastards are around to reap the benefits. do you remember the heaven's gate cult? they wore red robes (snuggies! i swear they were snuggies!) and nike tennis shoes and they committed a mass suicide that aligned with the reappearance of the hale-bopp comet. (sad, just sad.) but if those people had had the foresight to market their fashions instead of downing vodka shots laced with phenobarbital they could have been the latest and greatest hollywood religion. move over kabbalah, move over scientology - tom cruise and his l. ron hubbard loving ass could have been on oprah singing the praises of marshall applewhite and the comfort of the snuggie!

but alas, that was not in the cards, which is odd for a group of people claiming to be so instrinsically in tune with the universe. (hmm...) and that is why i'll just wear my bathrobe backwards instead of buying a snuggie, even though if i call in the next 20 minutes i could get two (!) for the price of one. but it doesn't stop me from admiring the package at walgreen's while i'm in the "as seen on tv" aisle; i'd look pretty good in that shade of red.

moving on...

i'm boycotting the use of my dishwasher. because it's just me here now and i don't eat nearly as much when i'm alone (as opposed to being all relationship-ed up) i've resolved to handwash all my dishes to see if it makes much of a difference on my electric and water bill. oh, the things i do for fun when i'm bored. but of all the chores i have to do as an adult, dishes is far from the worst. my least favorite chore of all time is dusting. i will vacuum until the cows come home, i'll do laundry until i can't see, but i hate dusting. because no matter when i do it, it's the wrong time. if you dust after you vacuum then you're just wiping crap on the floor. and if you dust before you vacuum you'll just blow more dirt around with the vacuum and then everything looks like you need to dust again. so i just don't do it. it looks like the color is way off on my tv but it's really just a nice thick layer of dust and i'm okay with that.

did you hear about paul harvey? that made me sad, i loved paul harvey. even though towards the end he was looking less human and more like a wax museum version of himself, he was still fun to listen to. my grandma used to listen to him on the radio every day - i can remember being eight years old, in the blow up pool in her backyard, kitchen window open so she could keep an ear and an eye on me and hearing the noon news with paul harvey come drifting through on good ol' KMGO. that was one of the best summers of my life - i spent like six weeks at my grandma's house that summer, going to work, going to lunch, eating grilled cheese, shopping and just hanging out. she was a lot of fun. i miss her. i miss her a lot.

i'm going to my mom's today, i think we're going to look for a tv since hers is on its way out. i'm looking forward to getting out of the house and getting some sunshine, even if it is 10 below outside.

yeah... i got nothing.

i've had no inspiration the last few days. what i have had is a trip to labor and delivery for back pain that turned out to be a simple bladder infection and a trip to the doctor's office for head pain that turned out to be a sinus infection.

i'm infected coming and going. literally.

labor and delivery, oh my, that was three hours of my life not-so-well-spent on a sunday afternoon. i go in for back pain and what do they make me do? lie on my back. ouch. and it is a labor to get there and i wish that someone would just deliver my ass fed-ex style to the welcome desk to check in. really, couldn't someone have planned that out just a little better - park six blocks away on level three of the orange ramp, cross the skywalk bridge and go around the corner, down the mile-long hallway (granted, there are benches in case you get winded and need a break or just want to stop and have a sandwich and a nap; how thoughtful...), around the other corner and take the elevator down a floor. or you can risk parking your car in the ghetto and coming right up on the elevator but the hospital takes no responsibility if your car is up on blocks when you get back.

so i was given an antibiotic and a codeine pill for pain. janel + codeine = a randy good time for those around her. once i came to about a day and a half later, i had to apologize to the bee for spending the better part of sunday afternoon waxing poetic on the lame setup of qualifying for the daytona 500. because apparently a little codeine brings out the "hulse" in me - i become an expert on everything and anything and what i don't know i'll just make up.

oh my.

so that was sunday and most of monday. on tuesday i woke up with a raging sinus headache, the kind that makes you want to poke your own eyes out. tuesday night we had our first round of what i call "baby school" - baby classes for expecting parents. our first class was a wholly (un)engaging "baby finance 101" presented by a lawyer and a financial planning advisor.

snore. thankfully there is no sophomore-level baby finance 201. we've graduated and we're done with babies and money. we know that we will have no money once the baby gets here; therefore, we are experts. move aside boring lawyer-types, i'm teaching the next round. our next class in baby school is "childbirth preparation" and at least i know i'll be getting a massage during one of these four meetings. plus i get to carry around a blanket and two pillows for a nap in case i just can't take it anymore.

wednesday i went to a doctor here in ankeny for my sinus headache. my whole head was on fire (and still is, actually) and so i got to see dr. beentothezoo. no really, his name sounds exactly like that. dr. beentothezoo said no more antibiotics - get a neti pot and some sudafed and relax. so i did. and while a neti pot is somewhat conducive to cleaning out my sinuses and relieving some of the pressure, it's not really all that great for relaxing. because the sensation of drowning in salt water doesn't relax me. beyond that, there's some gross stuff up there and because i'm rinsing it all out, i have to look at it and that's not very relaxing either. in fact, that's just gross. but it sort of helps and i'll try anything at this point because even today (thursday) i still want to poke my eyes out from the pain.

but i'm going to persevere.

tomorrow is friday and we're forecasted to get about 7 inches of snow. seven inches - are you kidding me? you do realize that it was 65 flipping degrees here on monday, right? i don't know who i need to contact about this, my congressman or my meteorologist, but no one is taking into account that i would like to wash my car this weekend and all this snow is definitely going to hamper that effort.

ugh. february in iowa. i'm so over it.

saturday is the big vd and i'm not talking syphilis, friends. nope, it's valentine's day, or if you're single more power to you it's affectionately referred to as SAD, single awareness day. the bee and i, although we are a couple and seemingly the prime audience for hallmark, russell stovers and kay jewelers, have decided to take the money that we would have spent on each other and buy baby brodie some stuff instead. because baby brodie needs some stuff. and neither of us need any more chocolate.

and that's about all i got for tonight. for having no inspiration i sure do like to talk. i'm going to go watch me some weather channel and spend time with the pootie and the baby. we're gearing up for our nightly kickboxing lesson with mommy as the punching bag...

:-)

mom, please wear the nice pants

in three days and some hours, i'm going to be 29 years old. i've officially been in my "upper 20s" for a couple years now but nothing says adulthood like turning 29.

yikes.

that's scary stuff, turning 29. i've been sort of in nostalgia mode for the last few days, surely brought on by a newfound addiction to facebook and the reemergence of old friends into my current life. (so long, myspace, it's been fun...) and i've got to tell you, it's making me feel old. well, maybe not necessarily old, but it's making me realize just how long it's been since i graduated high school and entered the big, scary real world. i am certainly not longing for my high school days, they were far from the best days of my life and i wouldn't go back for a second, ever. what i think i'm nostalgic for is independence and selfishness, all wrapped up in one - compounded by a) turning 29 on saturday, but mostly by b) this little guy that's due to arrive in just 101 days.

because as most adults will tell you - or at least the adults that are good at being adults will tell you - growing up and having kids means that it's the end of the "it's all about me" era and the beginning of the "it's all about them" era.

(that statement right there explains so much about the difference between my mom and my dad, i can't even begin to tell you... but anyway...)

after may 15 (or whenever this little buggar decides to arrive), i'm never going to be the same person. let's face it, i'm not the same person now that i was on september 16 of last year. all the decisions i make right now - get up or stay in bed, milk or juice, pop tarts or raisin bran, comfy pants or nice looking pants - all those decisions affect not only me but sweet little baby brodie. (maybe not the pants so much, but the kid probably doesn't want his mom looking like a big fat half-crocked slob either so he might be rooting for the nice looking pants.) and when that dawns on you - that you're making decisions that affect other people, people that depend on you - it can be a tough pill to swallow.

all you mothers out there have to admit that there is a bit of a mourning for an independent life lost no matter how much you anticipate a new life ahead. don't get me wrong - i am absolutely 100 percent thrilled to be where i am right now. i cannot wait to meet this kid, to hold his hand, to kiss his cheeks, to count his toes, to love him, to comfort him, to be a mother - i can't wait for those days. but it's like the point of no return - i'm never going to feel the same about anything. i may look like the old me and sound like the old me, but i doubt i'm going to think like the old me or act like the old me again.

is that such a bad thing?

my mom says no - i'm paraphrasing here but she says i've been floundering for a while, trying to find a true sense of who and what i am. she's right; she generally is. so maybe giving up my old life, turning the final page on what's been a tumultuous five years isn't such a bad thing. it's just that feeling - that new and different "book", the feeling of writing on an unmarked page and completely starting something from scratch - it's intimidating. i don't embrace change as well as others - i mean, i've had the same haircut since eighth grade, that has to tell you something.

but i sit here, writing this and wondering these things, and at the same time my little man is starting his nightly routine of kicking and punching, feeling his way around on the inside, and i can't help but feel happy, thrilled, maybe even a little peaceful. the world around me is crazy, people i care about are having all sorts of issues and troubles, and every now and then i get to have moments like these - it's just me and baby brodie, it's our private little conversation and i don't have to share him with the world just yet. so maybe it is still all about me for the time being. all about me and him.