White Paper Packages Taped Up With String

Look what was waiting at home for me today!

Don't you just love packages on your doorstep?

Especially when they contain fun stuff for a certain little baby girl's room.

They're the curtains for her room. Isn't that crazy? Someone else actually has a 'room' in our house! And now she has curtains! I know, it takes me a while... I still say to Joey all the time "Did you know we're married?"

The bedding is back ordered so this is the first of several packages that should be coming our way soon.

As you can guess from the curtains, the bedding is pink as well. Different pattern, but pink. I'm still deciding, never having really been a Pink Girl growing up myself, whether this is a good fit. Remember on Sleeping Beauty when fairy godmothers Flora and Merryweather keep changing Princess Aurora's dress from pink to blue? I always sided with Merryweather on the dress.

 But gosh darn it, it's so fun! As I've aged I've turned into more of a Flora.

I tried to convince Joey to go for the princess carriage theme below which everyone seems to be doing these days, but he didn't want her getting carriage sick during nap time.

Seriously. Was this on Pimp My Crib or something?

I'll be able to make a better decision once the bedding arrives. Afterall, we have four months, right? I have a feeling this is going to go by very quickly!

Now, off to the real Land of Nod!

The Good Samaritan Gas Tank Paparrazi

Yes, that's my gas tank. La Fonda the Honda's gas tank to be exact. Yes, that's a wad of paper keeping it closed.

Yes, we're classy.

La Fonda III is getting on up there in age. Along with an increase in mileage come many random issues. One being, the gas tank refusing to open while we're running on empty at a gas station in Louisiana. Joey had to pry it it open. Hence, it now will not close.

As the gas tank has been the least of her issues, it has been the last thing on our mechanic's list to fix.

This is also what has put me on the radar of The Good Samaritan Gas Tank Paparazzi. Driving around with your gas tank slightly ajar is similar to riding around town with Lindsey Lohan as a hood ornament.

Every time someone drives by I am mentally repeating "Please don't notice my gas tank. Please don't notice my gas tank."

They slow down. They speed up. They flail their arms. They yell. They do a lot of pointing. They hang out of the window. They run after me in parking lots. They sometimes ride with their seats way back and in scary cars.

You would think I was about to drive off a cliff to imminent death.

I give them the thumbs up and mouth 'thank you' and I've lifted their spirits because they believe they have performed a random act of kindness.

Meanwhile, I'm shaking off paranoia and gathering back both my roadside dignity and anonymity.

The open gas tank is the vehicular version of the untied shoe lace. I'm sure a serial killer would give a friendly alert to a driver with their gas tank open. On second thought, he might see it as an opportunity. Hmm. I'm going to choose not to think about this right now, yet mentally file it away.

What is the risk for driving around with the door to the gas tank open? As far as I can tell, there are apparently Sugar Water Pouring Predators and Siphoners all over the suburbs. We live on the edge. (An aside, I'm just waiting for someone to tell me their third cousin removed had this experience which will have me running to the mechanic.)

I have now rigged it with the wad of paper which sometimes falls out. This seems to throw the GSGT Paparrazi off their game a little. At least while driving. I'm waiting for "Hey, did you know someone stuck a wad of paper in your gas tank?" I guess I could class it up and make it blend in a little with black Magic Marker.

Between you and me? I'm concerned that the Good Samaritan Gas Tank Paparrazi is exactly why I haven't gotten it fixed yet.

I've gotten used to the notoriety. They say fame is an addiction. A few months more and I may be saying to Joey "No, dahling. We can't get the gas tank fixed. My public needs me."

Ahem.

We're thinking about trading La Fonda III in fairly soon because we need a little more space for our growing family. That's right - that's what it is.

Moral of the story? If you're ever in need of a self-esteem boost, a minor panic attack or would like an experience not too far off from Beatlemania, leave your gas tank open for extended periods of time.


I promise you, the Good Samaritan Gas Tank Paparazzi will not only come out of the woodwork, they'll make you feel loved.

And I love her

Well, we're just a few months away from meeting HER!

That's right, the P in the Pod is a girl! We are so excited!

One question is answered and in its place have come so many more.

Will she be a tom-boy or a girly-girl?

What will her name be?

Will she be outgoing or kinda shy?

All I know is that she will be very well-protected. Joey immediately declared that he was going back to gym to become the Gladiator.

And loved. This I know most soundly. She will be very loved.

Here's what we know so far about our little girl:

She has a healthy heart and brain.

She's already an Aggie. We're pretty sure this is her gig'em.

She may be fairly expressive. We deny that she's doing the Raider's Guns Up sign below and would much rather believe that she's throwing gang signs.

She's a big girl; measuring six days ahead of schedule.

She also may be a chatty. Her little mouth was moving a lot - which of course, we loved.

These are her first outfits:

I'm not sure if she'll be a pink kind of a girl, but we might as well have fun with it now!

We've loved this baby since the first day we were aware of her existence and we're thrilled to know all these little details about her.

One impatience has led to another. We now know we have a little girl coming our way, but now we're just oh-so-ready to meet her!

From Here to Eternity {AKA, When You Find Out the Sex of Your Baby}

Guess what's on this week's calendar? That's right - only two more sleeps until we find out if our little  one is a girl or a boy! And I have been so patient.

Yeah right.

I don't think I've ever been so impatient in my entire life! Instead of using the phrase 'A watched pot never boils', I have coined a new expression: 'A watched pregnant belly will not tell you if it's a girl or boy.' Shouldn't we be able to just Google it by now?

Poor Joey. Every day for the past four months I have been in countdown mode and every night before we go to bed I make reference to May 30th. Things like "Did you know that in such-and-such number of days:hours:minutes:seconds:milliseconds we'll know pink or blue?" "Did you know that a week from today we'll know?" "Did you know that the day after tomorrow I'll be able to say 'Did you know that tomorrow we'll know?'" You get the picture.

I do not even know how folks that wait until birth do it! Why must we know? First, Joey and I have never once considered this. Let me just share that Joey proposed to me a month early because the ring came in sooner than expected and he couldn't stand waiting any longer. I, on the otherhand, have the patience of Job course. So it's Joey's fault that we can't wait.

Predictions? I have no idea if I'm carrying low, high, out, in, a little to the left, etc. I don't really have specific cravings - salty or sweet. Some days one woman looks at me and says boy and one grocery aisle away I'm told girl. If I have to go with my gut, I would say girl - but really? Who knows? Joey says boy just because girl makes him anxious; mainly because he knows he'll be whipped and wrapped around that tiny little finger. {But, shhh...don't tell him I said this...I think he'll be whipped regardless!)

Things I am most excited about in finding out?

I want to say 'he' or 'she' and definitely not 'it'.

I want to buy something decidedly boy or girl. In a culture where everything is gender hazy there are few baby items that are gender neutral. So far, we can buy a thermometer and even that could be pink or blue.

Start moving forward decidely with the nursery.

Do we really care one way or the other? Nope! We just want to know one more thing about our baby's identity.

Did you know that the day after tomorrow we'll know?

Joy That Passes Understanding

I've been a quiet blogger over the past many months, but now I just can't be quiet any more. I've been wanting to write about our news from the moment we found out. We're pregnant! Our little one is due in October and we are beyond excited. This is something for which we've been hoping for a while now and I want to document every bit of it on this blog. However, there's been a pause each time I start this post.

This little joy that's poking me in my side at this very moment is also tied in my mind to another joy we lost. I feel that bringing up this life I'm carrying without bringing up the little life lost almost 10 months ago would be a sort of injustice. We lost a baby at a little over eight weeks this past year.

It's taken me 10 months to write that sentence. Not being able to write, at least in my case, is kind of a funny thing because all too often it's quite the opposite. I love journaling and getting my thoughts out in type or on paper. But in this case, where words may come off the tongue and disappear with a breath, the written word brings a measure of finality.

I will write about the experience of miscarriage one of these days as there are others who are going through or will go through the same thing. But it will not be today. Today is about two joys. One we were blessed to know for eight weeks and the second, 19 weeks and 3 days to date with an impending arrival of October 2013.

They are both blessings from the Lord; no matter the life span, each ordained by God with a purpose here on earth. Sometimes those purposes only make sense in light of heaven. The Lord's timing is perfect and always good.

Now, there are lots of good things in store for this blog. Much to share and much to ask. But for now, I'm just reflecting on God's goodness and grace.

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. 

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. - Psalm 139:15

The Risks of Spontaneous Pontification

There are some moments that are made for taking risks. When you completely embrace the spontaneity of life. You make a run straight for destiny.

It was in this spirit that Joey and I decided to take a leap.

We tried out a new restaurant.

I know...we're big-time risk takers.

I'm not gonna lie. We were scared. In fact, we had to talk ourselves into it while we were in the parking lot. Afterall, we knew there were a few restaurants down the road where we could walk in and high five the waiters from familiarity. Comfort and reliability were just a few blocks away.

Should we do this?

Joey was going to do a little reconnaissance before we committed. As we were talking it through and as if on cue, the hostess opened the door. She had apparently been watching us from the window. She was a smart one, she was. Or maybe she just thought we were casing the joint. Regardless, the opportunity for recon work and peeling out of the parking lot was now gone.

We were committed.

I wish I could tell you that we found a new favorite restaurant. That we struck gold. A diamond in the rough. I wish I could tell you that we found out that Bobby Flay had a secret restaurant where he liked to masquerade as an ingenue cook in Katy, Texas. It was not to be.

First off the spice level had me choking throughout dinner. Did someone spike my soup with a wicked cocktail of cayenne, jalapeno juice and a cup of black pepper?

Then upon first bite of the second entree I thought that my taste buds had been stunned into brokenness from the aforementioned soup. But no. For all the flavor of the first dish, the second had no flavor at all. It was terrible. Play-doh spaghetti noodles have more flavor and substance than these.

So I gave the waitress heck. I mean, I sent back dish after dish. Exclaiming "What do you call this mush?" while faking being a restaurant critic just to strike fear in their hearts.

Ah, you know me too well. I did absolutely nothing. Nothing! In fact, it gets worse.

The waitress comes by as I've just finished telling Joey that my tongue is permanently damaged and will never taste again. What does she ask? "How is it?"

Here's my chance. The moment of truth for this restaurant hangs on this fake restaurant critic's words.

"It's great!" I say with a numb mouth full of Play-doh noodles.

I could not bear to do it. She was too sweet. The restaurant too new. They were hoping I would like it too much.

This went on for three more waitress passes.

And it gets worse.

She looked at the uneaten food on my plate and asked me if I wanted to get a to-go box. I wish my mouth really had been numbed completely. This is practically a diner's seal of approval.

I got the box.

I'm a coward.

She still thinks their food is great.

Joey is fairly baffled by this behavior.

Odds are this restaurant's days are numbered. The Play-doh noodles and taste bud killing soup niche is already at capacity anyway. And my conflict avoidance is only delaying the inevitable. But at least the waitress isn't having a bad night because of me. Am I the only one who does this?

I could never be a food critic. Or one of those judges on Chopped. One sappy story about how they're making the vanilla bean and kale chutney over veal in honor of their mother who always believed in them and I would be done.

On the plus side, I've got Play-doh noodles for lunch tomorrow. And maybe the next day.

Wistfully White Weekend

 

Ahh...Labor Day weekend. I love it. It's a last long summer stretch that's just right.

It also happens to put an end to all things white. So like all practical girls, I wore all my white stuff out this past week until it was black and blue. I just have to make sure my summer white wardrobe has been fully taken advantage of before banishment to the back of my closet until Easter.

Am I the only one who goes into a frenzy with seasonal clothes before The Change?

My wardrobe days went like this:

Monday - white pants

Tuesday - ruffled white shirt with linen tweed paints

Wednesday - off white flowy shirt with white and taupe striped pants

You get the picture...

I wore everything white that I own with the exception of my wedding dress and had there been one more work day in the week it might have even made an appearance. Wouldn't my co-workers have been surprised if I would have shown up in my wedding dress? "Oh, this old thing?" - that's what I would have said.

I always tend to do this the week before Labor Day. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE LOVE fall and color clothing options that come with it, but I feel completely guilty about not having spent quality time with the whites in my closet. I'm hoping that this last ditch effort will prevent them from seeking therapy once placed on the back hanger. If you see them on Montel Williams you at least know I gave it a shot. Is that still on?

Meanwhile, guess what was added to Joey's wardrobe last week?

Yup. Kelly Kapowski. Apparently it was 90's week at his Crossfit gym. Joey seemed to be quite pleased with his new shirt. Kelly was his favorite on Saved by the Bell. I always thought Jessie and Lisa were prettier than Kelly, but apparently that's just me. I really think this shirts all talk. There's no way Joey would EVER wear this. I can't even get him to wear pastels or patterns so I doubt it if Kelly Kapowski comes out of the closet. If you see me on Montel Williams, you know what happened.

Hope you and your family had a great Labor Day Weekend and are well-rested! Also, I hope you wore out your whites too!