...A Slightly Crazy Preggo: Cars Suck

As tomorrow I'm being induced, I had a lot of last minute errands to run today. Post office, the store, take the youngest for lunch at Mickey D's, then drop him off at preschool. We go to leave a little later than I wanted as I was trying to get a few things done around the house, get out to the car (a Ford Explorer), go to start it and the steering wheel locks. Ok, no biggie, right? I'll just turn it a little and it'll start...

Wrong.

I spent a good 15 minutes giggling the steering wheel, which moves, oh, about a 1/2. I press the brake pedal, I pump the brake pedal. I call the Ford roadside number. I end up talking to a local dealership. A half hour goes by and I'm FREAKING OUT because of the two cars we own- this is the ONLY ONE that fits all three car seats (nope, haven't replaced the other one YET). I call JB in tears who's trying to get me to remain calm in the midst of teaching a lesson. I call my parents, no one's home. I go back out and I jiggle. I swear. I kick it. I cry some more. Nothing.

Ok- so maybe I will try the other set of keys. Sure as hell can't hurt, right?

So, wouldn't you know, the stinkin' wheel unlocks right away, I start the car and Rho and I take off, having only enough time to eat at this point, but that's ok because I can run my stupid errands after I drop him off.

As it turns out, I don't think I even had the right key to start with. Not because I'm crazy- we have two keyless remotes, both of which have Ford keys on them. However, we also have Ford F350 sitting in our driveway (which you may be thinking why didn't she just drive that- because it's like 10 feet of the ground, there are no "Oh-shit" handles on the driver's side to pull myself into it with, I'm 18 months preggo and it's really hard to buckle a booster seat in it without being preggo).

So when JB finally calls to see what the outcome was, I ask him- "Did you by any chance put the truck key on the ring with other remote entry?"

"Oh yeah...I think I might've."

I glare through the phone and wonder if he can feel the daggers. But I only send a few as he explains he was trying to be calm with a room full of kids even though he was actually freaking out himself and didn't think of it.

Less than an hour later, my poor SIL, who is spending the night with us tonight to get the kids off to school in the AM because we've got to be at the hospital before 7:30 am, calls and says her car has died at a gas station more than an hour from our house, MIL is on the way, but she's not sure what's going on.

After about three hours of waiting, stressing and having FIL come...she'll be going back home (an hour and a half away) to get a different car before heading over sometime tonight. She's a trooper and we're VERY grateful JB's parents own a couple of cars and trucks.

So yeah, cars suck. Same car also cost us $300+ dollars for stupid brakes last week. On top of having to replace our oil tank (which we were told could have burst at anytime, losing all the expensive oil in it to the ground below).

*SIGH*

But on a happier note, the baby is getting evicted tomorrow, so we'll finally be able to meet the little bugger who has been practing his Ka-ra-te on Mommy for the past couple of hours...YAY!

...a Mom: Things That Make You Go Hmmm....

The boys were outside playing earlier, and while they usually get along great, there's almost always one fight. This time it was over binoculars. Rho wanted the blue pair, Xan had them first, so he was stuck with the green ones. But, not satisfied with green, he swiped the blue which caused the fight. Both come in complaining about the other

Rho: I told Dad on you!
Xan: (coming in after) I had them first.
Rho: No you didn't...

And as it turns out Rho lied about who had them first (Xan's a lousy liar, and Rho, well, let's just say he'd clean up on that game show with the lie detector on Fox). After a short time out, JB tells him that he should apologize to his brother for taking the binoculars and that if he wants to use a pair, he's going to have to use the green ones.

Rho's musical response?

"It's too late to apologize...it's too late....It's too late to apologize..."

I start laughing- because the kid's got a damn good sense of humor (which, of course, he gets from me). He's also a little too smart for his own good.

Did I mention he's only 4 and a half?

...a Woman: My Love List

So I thought I would write my "Love List" inspired by Operation Nice. The only catch is you can't mention anyone you know.

I love bookstores and books. I love reading. I love the feel of pen on paper when writing. I love the smell of orange. I love McDonald's vanilla iced coffees. I love time to myself, but I also love when everyone is home. I love holidays. I love that we eat kielbasa, fruit salad and banana breads for breakfast on those days. I love cranking the music in my car and singing at the top of my lungs. I love my Vermont sunsets. I love lilacs. I love a good stretch. I love making someone laugh. I love the spicy scent of summer. I love fresh cut grass. I love fresh A & W rootbeer (the kind you get at A & W- not from the store). I love a simple hot fudge sundae. Apparently I love food. I love taking photos. I love photojournalistic wedding photos. I love weddings. Paper. Designing. I love the movie "Field of Dreams". I love that it makes me cry every single time I watch it. I love classic Winnie the Pooh. I love getting flowers. I love french onion dip and chips (it's a sickness). I love little kid belly laughs. I love a good dirty joke. I love getting bookstore gift certificates (it's my favorite gift). I love the smell of baking bread, and having a hot slice with butter. I love playing sports- especially softball. I love crisp autumn days that are filled with sunshine. I secretly love snow (for a little while anyway). I have found I love gardening. I love playing the piano. I love the first day of the year when you can wear shorts. I love hugs. I love beagles (well, animals in general, but really love beagles). I love collecting barbie dolls, and I love that this always surprises people.

...a Consumer: Oh, PETA, Really?

There was a news story this AM about PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) trying to convince Vermont ice cream company Ben and Jerry's to use breast milk instead of cow's milk because of the sometimes cruel conditions cows can be kept in. B & Js replied that breast milk is best kept for its intended recipients- babies.

Uh- yeah. I can understand wanting to protect the animals- I'm an animal lover and abhor cruelty of any kind, but breast milk? Yes- I can imagine how much fun it would be for hordes of women to sit around being pumped several times a day, OUCH. I'm not saying me or the cows, or that there shouldn't be more regulations about how cows (especially veal cows) are kept...I'm just saying eeewwww.

It reminds me of that episode of "Friends" ("The One With the Breast Milk"):

Chandler: What did you just do?

Phoebe: I licked my arm, what?

Ross: It’s breast milk.

Phoebe: So?

Rachel: Phoebe, that is juice, squeezed from a person.

Joey: What is the big deal? (Tastes the breast milk.)

Chandler: What did you just do?

Ross: Ok, would people stop drinking the breast milk?

Phoebe: You won’t even taste it?

Ross: No!

Phoebe: Not even if you just pretend that it’s milk?

Ross: Not even if Carol’s breast had a picture of a missing child on it.


Yep- that about sums it up.

...A Pet Owner- WTF?

So, in the past week or so my cats have gone completely psycho. Particularly our female, Wanda.











She'll come up to me, meow, start attacking things, so I think she needs to go out. I haul my preggo butt off the couch, make my way to the kitchen. At this point, she turns a sharp right and starts eating.

Oookay.

And she'll repeat this behavior multiple times throughout the day. A few minutes ago I get off the phone, follow her to the kitchen because she's been complaining at me, and she goes to eat. I say to her Ms. Psychoness, "Do you know how hard it is for me to get up?" She doesn't answer.

This behavior is coupled with going in and out a gazillion times a day (both cats are guilty of this behavior), sometimes coming in right after she's gone out.

So, do my cats sense the impending baby (who, BTW, has excuted "squatter's rights" as he's completely ignoring the eviction notice I posted here last week)? I've never seen them act quite like this before. To further demonstrate the psychosis, I was about to finish this post up, but had to use the restroom. As soon as I get up, she hightails it for the kitchen and starts eating. I come out of the bathroom, she's outside the door and again, hightails it for the kitchen. Out of curiosity, I follow, and sure enough- she heads right for the food bowl. This has all happened within a 1/2 hour- no exaggeration.

Anyone a pet psychic? She's back bugging me now, and I'm NOT getting up again. Nuh-uh. Now she's on the couch adjacent to mine, and is staring at me.

Okay...shhhhh, she's sleeping. Must be all the running around has tuckered her out. But I'd put money on it- if I get up, she'll run out to the kitchen and eat.

I'll keep you posted.

A TV Junkie: New Seasons Start Tonight!!

I'm so flipping excited- the new seasons of "Big Bang Theory", "How I Met Your Mother" and "Heroes" start tonight. I detest summer programming. I hate reality TV for the most part, there's just waaaaay to much of it.

So my predictions:

HIMYM: Stella will say yes, Barney will admit to Lily he loves Robin

BBT: Penny's date with Leonard will be awkward (but this is sort-of a "duh")

Heroes: Claire will lose part of her brain to Sylar, but he won't kill her because she'll be able to regenerate (and she's too integral to the show) and the man who shot Nathan is no other than....yeah, I won't put it here, because 1) it's a biggish spoiler and 2) for some reason I have no controls to change the text color and I don't wanna ruin it for any one. But it's good.

...a Preggo: Holy Emotions Batman!!!

It's been a very rough month. I've just deleted all the details, so this doesn't end up like "War and Peace" but needless to say at 39+ weeks I've become very emotionally fragile. A combination of not sleeping, various running around, cars breaking down, baby due any minute (please, oh please)...so I've been a little on edge.

Friday, I was supposed to have some adult company, but she cancelled. Ok, held back the tears on that one because I was hoping for some help to get some things cleaned up and put back together after some construction projects. But something good comes out on Friday- my SIL came to pick up the kids with the intent on taking them to a hot-air balloon festival, apple picking and the like, and they would not be back until Sunday. This means that JB and I will get some much needed time to ourselves for a date before the baby comes. The summer went by sooooo fast that we didn't get a chance to do anything other than house stuff.

So Friday, we pick up the car that's been at the dealership and go out to dinner. We toy with going to the movies, but by the time dinner is over, I'm whipped off my toucas. So we decide to go home, I pass out on the couch at 8:30 and pretty much sleep until 8 the next morning. See? Told you I was tired :) We take care of some chores and decide to head back to the nearest "city" (a half our drive from our small Vermont town) to go first to Home Depot and then Wal-mart to get snacks for the week which is more than I've done in three weeks. Walking is just. not. comfortable. Once we've done all of this, we head to the movie theater to see "My Best Friend's Girl". We grab our p-corn, and I'm all set to get a blue raspberry slush puppy, but they only have smalls (which is practically dixie cup small) and can't put the slushies in a regular soda cup because it will mess up inventory (huh? really?).

I should've known then.

Still smarting from not getting the slushie I'd been jonesing for since the night before, we get a soda and take our seats. The previews start a few minutes later, then the movie...and then the sound goes. JB doesn't waste any time getting up to tell them. We wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I go out and ask about the sound- she knows nothing about it. It's been more than 20 minutes. Apparently the kid working the concession stand didn't tell any body, he just took off. So we get our money back, I get to the car and lose it. "Niagara Falls, Frankie Angel" (if you don't get the movie quote- go rent "Scrooged" with Bill Murray). I'm balling like my favorite pet just died and I can't stop for like 15 minutes. I feel like an utter moron, which I say to JB, who is completely understanding and says, "Why don't you just close your eyes and I'll wake you when we get there."

Get there? I think. Not get home? I'm a little suspicious at this point. Sure enough, after stopping at home for a bathroom break, the man confesses he has planned to drive past our home to Burlington, at hour and 20 minutes away so that we can go to dinner and see the movie in a stadium seating theater. So back in the car we go. We go for Mexican (yummy!) and then hang out for a little while before the movie starts. Luckily it wasn't a wasted trip- it's actually pretty funny if you're into crasser humor, and it's refreshing to see a female lead who isn't a goody-goody. It's definitely an "R" movie though. Enough F-bombs to wipe the entire half of the US off the map. But it was good to laugh and good to have one last date before the family changes again.

I thank JB a couple of times on the way home, who replies, "My wife was crying, what was I supposed to do?"

What a sweetie, I think.

Then he says, "Besides, if we'd just gone home and I'd ended up watching golf all night, you would've ended up pissed at me and have had a miserable evening. This was a better alternative." He grins.

I drop my own F-bomber at him. A twisted term of endearment, and grin. "Yeah, you're probably right."

a Mom: My Favorite Moment

Inspired by Jules at Pancakes and French Fries, I've decided to do my own favorite moment. It's not specifically from this past week, but rather an amalgamate of several similar moments. Rho (formerly known as R) usually could care less about being left somewhere (like one of the Memas (pronounced Mee-ma, what my kids called their grandmas, or an aunties). In fact, neither kid really cares, and they don't usually make a fuss when we return to get them, unless it's been a good number of days.

So, it surprises me every day, picking him up from pre-school to hear shouts of "MOMMY!" and having him run to greet me with a huge hug as if he hasn't seen me in a month (though sometimes it's only been a couple of hours). No matter how my day has gone, and lately it seems more bad than good with being sick and hugely preggo, it always brightens up my afternoon, and it's my favorite moment of the day.

A Woman...Things I Don't Like, But Think I'm Supposed to

1) Oprah- Girlfriend, I just don't get it

2) "Sex and the City"- maybe it's because for as long as it's been in existence, I've been married, maybe it's because while I can be just as crude and crass as the next truck driver, there's something in Kim Cattrall's delivery that I don't like. So, needless to say, I'm not waiting on pins and needles for the DVD release next week. I'm more excited for "Ironman." I can also add to this list "Lipstick Jungle" and that other all woman show that I'm pretty sure got cancelled anyway

3) Housework- ok, I don't know anyone who really likes it, so this might not count

4) Brad Pitt as a sex symbol, AKA "the man most women would sacrifice their marriage for" I like Pitt as an actor, and think he's wicked funny, but I'm, uh, just not that into him

5)High heels- because I've never been able to figure out how to walk in them, and plus, my feet are huge (size 11s baby) and my heels are narrow, making finding a good fight damn near impossible

6)Danielle Steele- I don't know why, because I love Nora Roberts, but if I had to pick, I'd read a young adult novel any day

7) Cosmo, Vogue, Elle, etc... I'd rather read the TV Guide, though there are some "Cosmo" articles that crack me up


Are there some things that you "should" love but don't?

a Preggo: The Notice is Going Up

I am issuing a 2 day notice for EVICTION. Tenant will have 2 days in which he can either gather his belongings and promptly vacate the premises, or wait until the final day. After which, he will be physically removed from the property.

He's being evicted due to breech of contract and destruction of property. Expansions only to the FRONT of the house, within reasonable limits, were discussed. Not only have these limits been exceeded, but additions to the back of the house were also made!

Remodeling and gutting of the home was never approved, nor was changing the initial layout and base structure. And due to property damage, there are now leaks in both the upper AND lower levels of the home. On top of which, the landlord has received numerous complaints about nightly disturbances.

After 2 days from this day that he doesn’t comply with the notice will result in immediate and forceful removal at my discretion.


That's right, little man, you only get 2 days. Because we're past the 30 day count down and I need some sleep. Sleep, you, good reader are probably thinking, is the last thing I'll get once he's out. And, while this is true to a point, I'm 100% positive I won't sleep any worse than I am now. I average about an hour and a half before I wake up to turn over, which is quite painful in every single muscle from the center of my stomach to my knees (it's like the ligaments get used to a certain position and when I move they start screaming at me- I'd like to say on one side all night, but I get a terrible, preggo related ache in my hips that will not be ignored). I've been struggling with a sinus infection that's finally going away and that's impeded my sleep- I'm not, and never will be, a mouth breather. I envy the husband and kids because they can sleep anywhere in any position. Drives me crazy.

Officially, I've got one week and a day until my due date. My husband has ordered the eviction notice for this evening, but I don't see that happening. So, I'm trying to be nice by giving you another two days. I think I've been very patient so far.

But really, I'm just anxious to meet you ;).

...a Mom "Lasagna"

Both of my kids have had problems with the letter "L" and its pronunciation, a fairly common letter to have trouble with. The eldest, X, had trouble mostly with the word little- pronouncing it yittle. It was really cute and kind of a sad day when I realized that he had stopped and was suddenly pronouncing it correctly.

My youngest however, his speech has always been a little different. We actually thought he might have a speech problem at one point because he would say things and we'd have no idea what the hell he was saying (though some how X almost always could translate). This still happens on occasion. But we had him checked out by a speech pathologist who said that he just intonates differently than most people. He has a unique sing-songy quality to his speech. There's NOTHING wrong with his vocabulary and in fact often talks non-stop. Actually, they both do. Though it's not at all surprising because my MIL will often talk about how he never shut-up as a a kid and my nickname as a kid was Motor-Mouth. But I digress...

The other night, my husband made lasagna for dinner. X flatly refused to try it, but R was curious. "What's vagagna?" he asked.

To which we both stopped, looked at each other and asked "What did you say?"

"What's Vagagna?"

Now, in case you can't "see" why we started laughing, I encourage you to say Vagagna outloud. Start with the "vag" sound and end it like "lasagna". It sounds remarkably like a female body part. At first I thought I was hearing things, so we had him repeat it a few times...nope, sure enough it sounded like we thought it did. Then, we thought maybe it was just us. So we had him say it for my sister who laughed and said "What?" To which he repeated it and I thought she might bust a gut.

Incidently, when he says Peanuts, it sounds a LOT like penis. We try not to talk about them in public too much.

...a Mom "Meatloaf, smeatloaf..."

My youngest R (soon to be middle) is something else. At times he reminds me of the littlest boy from "Mr. Mom"- who, upon needing to give up his beloved woobie tells his dad "I just need... a moment... to myself please." At other times he reminds me of one of the boys from "Overboard"- the one who throws grapes at Goldie Hawn's character ("She needs to eat! A buh-buh, a buh-buh...").

But he's always original. To preface this story, I have to say that R's got some food issues. It can't have a crust, a different color (ie: any brown-ness from being cooked)- it has to be "naked" as he puts it (I have no idea where this came from). So getting him to eat at times can be challenging. So yesterday, instead of giving him a bologna sandwich, he got "bologna hotdog"- a rolled up slice of said sandwich meat), crunchy carrots (neither boy will eat them cooked) and a grilled cheese, no crust. The grilled cheese went without an issue, the carrots took a while, but the bologna wasn't getting eaten. Apparently there was a crust on it. The kid is whack. So I exasperatedly tell him for the 1000th time that there is no crust on it and it needs to get eaten or he won't be able to join in the game that Dad and X are playing. To which he replies, "I hate it, I hate it and I'm not going to eat it." It's a simple statement- no yelling just a matter of fact, "I hate it".

I have to turn away before he sees me laugh- with refrains of "A Christmas Story" running through my head "Meatloaf, smeatloaf, double-beatloaf. I hate meatloaf." Needless to say, the husband chuckle about it over the course of the night- using it as a response to a number of things. As long as you're not rude about it, it's good for a laugh. Try it.

And yes, he did eventually eat it. Mom (amost) always wins.

...a Consumer: Why I'll Never Go to a Car Dealership Again

Because we're expecting our third, we realized that one of our cars, a Jetta Wagon, would not fit two boosters and a car seat. We weren't entirely sure our other vehile, a 2000 Ford Explorer (Eddie Bauer edition) with low miles, would either, and with all the advertised discounts, thought it might be a good idea to check out the SUVs at "Employee Pricing". Which sounds like a great deal, right? Yeah, not so much when you look at the numbers. But, that was fine as the crossover we were most interested in, thanks to an article that touted its ability to fit three seats, will not, in fact, fit the three seats that we have. In fact, it was 2" shorter in hip room than our Jetta.

But, the young man we're working with says he's got this great Trailblazer, an 05, with 21,000 miles on it, previously leased "by a woman who takes incredible care of her vehicles", third row seat...ok, let's test drive it. So we do, it's nice, decent enough price (so we think) and ask to discuss numbers.

The first payment offered is waaaay to high for us, plus they're offering a pittance for our trade- 2,000 less than it should be. So, they "work up" some more numbers, break it down weekly for us (really?) and when it's still too high, he goes to talk to the manager, and comes back with the owner (who my husband knows because he taught his daughter a couple of years ago). The owner then knocks the price down another $15 and then says (not kidding) "If I can do this price, would you sign the papers tonight?"

I actually laugh. "Uh no, I can't make that kind of decision on the spot" not to mention at this point, we've been there an hour and a half, we still need to go grocery shopping and I need to eat. I think my poor husband is going to pass out from hunger. Despite having said as much a good 20 minutes ago, the owner then starts to go on and on about the Certified vehicles, what a great deal this is for our family (oh- so you really know us?!?) and then breaks these numbers down by week. Holy god- my husband is a math teacher and just because the bank says we can afford it doesn't mean 1) we want to pay that much for a car and 2) that we really CAN afford it- uh, hello, mortgage crisis anyone?

So, FINALLY we get out of there. We talk about the car, which we proceed to do over the next couple of weeks. But during this time, we get approximately four more phone calls. At least one every few days. At this point, I say to my husband, I bet if I called and told them what I wanted to pay per month, they'd agree to it. I'm betting we're the ONLY people who've looked at this car since it's been on the lot."

We get another phone call. Guess how much the "payment" is down now? A total of $45. Almost exactly now the amount I joking said we should offer to pay. Guess what else I've learned? The cost they originally had on the car is $3000 more than book value (however, I'll add in around $1500 for the Certified Used Vehicle value). So the original $3000 off only brought it down to book value. They came up on our trade-in value- but it's still really not a great deal. I don't think they're losing any money on it at all. They'd still end up getting near the book value.

I don't mind the wheeling and dealing to a point- and we're honestly not playing any games with them- we really just don't know what it is we want to do (and I really hate car payments). Our Explorer, as it turns out, fits all seats perfectly. I just can't believe how many times we've been contacted about this "great deal"/"perfect for our family"/"certified used vehicle"/"we know the previous owner personally- she takes great care of her cars"/"incredile deal" Trailblazer (did I mention there was an e-mail too, which, apparently my very nice response to, prompted the manager to call and repeat the same things over again?). I'm 100% positive they're hot to get this off their lot. Even though we've decided to wait before buying anything right now, and I've told them this much twice (so we'll see if that makes a difference), I'm ever-so-tempted to call and say, here's what we're will to pay each month for it, and see if they bite.

We'll see what happens when they call next week.

...a Preggo: Sick, Sick, Sick

So at 37+ weeks, I've been struck down by a cold. Normally I'm not a wimp-cold, schmold- but this has knocked me on my butt and then some! Fever, stuffy, not sleeping, you name it. I've almost lost my sense of smell and taste. On Friday it was so bad, I got up and thought evil things about my husband- "HOW could he not make me any coffee ?!? I saw him drinking it earlier...*insert various names here*" Turns out, he did make me coffee- I just couldn't smell it. At all. Not even standing right next to the pot. Lucky for me there's a red light on there to indicate it's on, or it might've burned up in the pot. Yesterday- I couldn't taste my favorite guilty pleasure- potato chips and french onion dip. All I could taste was salt. Very disappointing.

After an hour and a half of waiting, sick, at the Drs the other day for my 5 minute appointment (a rant for another time) I did get the OK to use real nasal spray, but don't want to use it unless I really have to (at night mostly), but I've found that the new cold formula medicines are a crock. And a half. As it turns out, even though pseudophedrine can be made into various nefarious drugs (note my super cool rhyming), it really is the best medicine for a cold. I think I'd sell my soul right now to be able to take some real Co-Advil without any adverse side effects to the baby. The new drug that's in all the cold medicines now- there's studies doubting it's effectiveness (which I find not at all surprising, because taking it I was wondering the same thing "Does this crap really even work???" and then googling it to find out that it's probably not effective at the dosage in the medicines). However, you know what it does work really well for?

Hemmorhoids.

That's right- the main ingredient in the new cold medicines is the same thing in Preparation H.

Huh. I don't know what to do with this new-found knowledge, but it sure is interesting.

...a Mom: A Mystery

The other day I was getting the boys buckled into the car when I noticed what looked like either a credit or gift card upside down on the floor in front of R. I picked it up, flipped it and saw that it was indeed a gift card with the Exxon/Mobil logo on it, and a demonination of $50 in the corner.

Now, to my knowledge, we've never been given a gift card for gas before, and I start wracking my brain as to who has been in my car in the last few days. My step-dad was one, but he sat in the front seat...and other than that, I can't think of anyone. So, after bringing the kids to school, I come home and check the balance on the card. Sure enough, the website says there is $50 on the card. Curiouser.

I check with my step-dad, my in-laws (as they had visited and been near the car) but no one has lost one. I've yet to try the card at the gas station, but as of right now, we mysteriously own a $50 gift card and have no idea, whatsoever, as to where it came from. So to whoever left it in our car, I say thank you. I don't know how or why it ended up in there- but I'm grateful!

a Preggo: Things I Shouldn't Have to Deal With Part 2

Today, Karma decides to get me back. Unfortunately, we end up with squirrels in our house every year. It's a pain, they scratch at the ceilings and walls and we can't seem to keep them out. So today, I'm sitting, working on website stuff when I hear a commotion, look up and realize our cat (the same troublesome one from below) has caught a red squirrel (the nastier ones) from the WALL where we haven't yet put back a piece of floor boards from some construction a little while ago. "Oh shit! Good kitty, hold on to it..." he's only 6 feet from a door. If I can just make it there, I can get them both outside and he can do whatever with it.

But instead, he drops it. It makes a feeble attempt to crawl away (oh- maybe 8 inches) and then stops and drops onto it's back. Frantically I look for something to cover it with, not sure if it's dead or playing so, and race to the kitchen, grab a pot and drop it over the squirrel- which is still alive.

Ok, now what. I've got to get this out of the house before the 4 year old comes downstairs from a nap (who should be at school but is already home sick with a cold and little fever) and picks up the pot before I can stop him and suddenly Rocky is in a mad dash to get out of the house. Oh look, there's the box from the scanner I just opened, I'll tear a huge piece of that off and slide it under...uh, no. I hope the squirrel will move along with me, but it doesn't. And part of it is stick out from under the pot. EEEEEwwwww.

Take 2: Get snow shovel. Nope, not wide enough to accommodate pot.

Take 3: Call husband. Get the other snow shovel which is out by construction debris from this past weekend and try that. If it doesn't work, stick a bucket of tools on it and I'll take care of it when I get home (at 6 pm???!!!?????).

Take 4: Try second shovel, still to narrow.

Take 5: Go back to initial cardboard idea. Ok, tail is still sticking out, but use something to stick it back under. EEEEWWWWW.

Remove rodent to porch, stick tools on it and leave it for the hubbie when he gets home.

So, now I'm out of breath, sweating like mad, need to take a shower, and of course 4 year old R is refusing to sleep...

I get it, I should've saved the spider...but then again, I shouldn't have been made arachnophobic. I can only do what I can, but really, a squirrel? I think that's overkill, Karma. Don't be such a bitch ;).

...a Mom: I Can't Stop Eating

On Thursday, I will have hit the 37 week mark of this pregnancy, meaning baby could come any day (please oh please oh please). But, in the meantime, I'm stinkin' hungry all the time. I feel like all I do is eat. It's ridiculous- but as I might as well enjoy it now because after the baby, it's back to my normal eating habits. I've got some poundage to lose!

I've also been dealing with the repeated question of how the baby is going to come out from my four and a half year old. When he was born, I just told my eldest that I had a special trap door that opened up and the baby came out there with the help of the doctors. He was only 3.5 at the time, so this was a good enough answer. But my other one- he wants to see. "Is the baby going to come out your mouth?" No. "Where does it come out then?" Uh...well...part of my tummy opens up just to let the baby out and then closes right back up. (is this the best I can come up with???) "How?"

Help! How do I explain this? He's far too curious for his own good and if I told him the truth about how it actually worked- there'd be no stopping the barage of questions wanting to see, or the fact he'd probably go around telling everyone exactly how it was going to happen.

So, like any good mom, I'm trying to play dumb. That'll work, right?

...a Preggo: Things I Shouldn't Have to Deal With at 37 Weeks

Part 1) Spiders

I am a serious arachnophobic. It's completely irrational- they're so small for cryin' out loud, but I can't look at pictures, see them on TV, let alone deal with one in person. So when "X" (the 7+ year old) noticed a spider in my living room yesterday and commented "WOW- that's a big spider!" which happened to be no less than three feet from where I was sitting but out of sight because I couldn't see over the couch arm. So, I tentatively get up and take a peek- yeah- it's a BIG SPIDER. Not tarantula size, but much bigger than I want to deal with. I can't leave it there, because I know it'll move, and the little wimp won't go after it with his shoe, which leaves only me to deal with it as the husband won't be home for another hour or so (by which time it'll be who knows where in the house- probably nestled in my bed). So, I think to myself, I can handle this, it's a stupid spider (commonly known around here as a "wood" spider but all I know is that it's brown, icky and FAST). So, I grab a sandal and slowly approach and stop. I'm three feet from it and there's no fraking way (that's right, I wrote "fraking") that I'm moving any closer.

I look imploring to X, and ask him "Can you please squish it for me? I seriously cannot move from this spot."

X: "No way!"

Me, muttering to self: shit, shit, shit...oh, I'll get the vaccuum. Maybe I can convince him to suck it up. He's done it once before (last year, similar situation, even bigger spider). "Okay, I'm going to get the vaccuum- can you suck it up?"

X: "What if it moves like it did last time?"

Crap he remembers. me: "Just be quick. You can do it- you'll be Mommy's hero."

He sighs but grabs the hose from me and slowly approaches. I watch with a growing, gnawing fear that the fraking thing will take off, hysterical screaming will ensue and it'll get away. But thankfully, he's quick and I watch with glee as it disappears up the vaccuum shoot. I'm ready to buy him a car.