I'm sorry!!

Heather always used to laugh at me when I would walk in the office and the first word out of my mouth was "Sorry." But I was ALWAYS late, so I was always sorry. On a weird tangent, I had a high school teacher would always say, "Don't be sorry, just don't do it again." He was NOT a religious man, but I think that could very well be a gospel principle.

Moving on. The reason I'm sorry is that I can't believe it's been a week since I've posted. I'll always look at the blogs of others and be like "WHAT IS THEIR PROBLEM!?!? THEY HAVEN'T PUT UP ANYTHING IN SO LONG!" And look, I am now one of "those" people.

I guess I didn't have anything cool to post, and so I think that if I don't have a good story then I can't say anything. I should start telling embarrassing stories from my youth/childhood/college days. Heaven knows I have PLENTY of those. But Reagan and Judd will have to skim those, I'm sure they've heard all my embarrassing stories. But don't worry ladies, we know more are coming soon. They happen on a DAILY basis. (I would start telling them more often, but most of them involve my pants falling down at work and other such atrocities that no one really wants to think about)

But I had a few things happen to me that I thought you would all enjoy. Well, maybe not ENJOY, but at least you wouldn't have nightmares about them. Speaking of nightmares, that is my first story. I believe it's due to the fact that we are going to be surprised about the baby's sex. But both Marcelo and I have been having lots of dreams about the baby. The other night I had a dream that I gave birth not to a boy and not to a girl, but instead to a real live Gloworm. For those of you who weren't allowed to watch TV growing up, here is what a Gloworm is. I never had one, but I always wanted one. Being poor growing up, however, this was not possible.

So in my dream my baby had no arms, (I guess I didn't remember those little arm shoots from my childhood) no legs, but it was so happy and I loved it anyway.

And then Marcelo had a dream Sunday night. He said that we had a boy, but the baby's head hadn't formed all the way, and it had a hole scooped out of the side of it's head. Like someone had wanted a scoop of Baby Loor flavored ice cream, and had decided to take it from the head.

** Begin Tangent. What would Baby Loor flavored ice cream taste like? I'm guessing a little bit like mango, and a lot like Salsa! Did anyone read those books "Sideways Stories from Wayside School" growing up? By Louis Sacher? And in the first one they had a teacher who made a flavor for every child in the class. Some were sweet, some tart. I just always wondered what my flavor would taste like. I'm ESPECIALLY wondering now what my baby's flavor would taste like. Tangent over**

So if any of you have dealt with Latinos, you know that they are a VERY superstitious people. They don't take dreams lightly and so I was a little worried when he told me about his dream. Like when we bought a pig together when I was down in Ecuador, and it died 6 months later. He didn't want to tell me about it becuase he thought the pig symbolized us and our relationship. See? Superstitious, I told you so.

So I asked him what he thought the dream meant. He totally floored me and said, "Oh, probably nothing. It's just a dream." (Is it weird that I'm a little sad that he's becoming so Americanized? I mean, It's not like I want him to kill a chicken on our back porch and then ask me to cook it for dinner. But I miss the little things that came with him from Ecuador. Sad.) Hoping to get some of that Latino superstition out of him, I asked him if he was worried about the dream. Well, he follows up the comment by flooring me YET AGAIN and saying "No, not really. I think that the dream made me realize that even if there are problems with the baby, we will be able to handle it"

When did my husband become all wise and not crazy Latino superstition guy telling me to cure my headache by pressing a lemon to my forehead? (My husband never said, that, by the way. I got that little ditty from another crazy Latino woman) Well, needless to say that I will have to come to terms with my new wise Confucius-like husband and his very sensible comprehension of dreams.

My second story is, of course, about food. For breakfast, I went to the Maverick gas station and got a nice cup of Hot Chocolate (with hazelnut creamer, of course) and a bag of Corn Nuts. I enjoyed those Nuts all throughout the day, but I've now discovered that I need to eat them with a spoon. They fall under the popcorn/Cheeto's category now: I don't like the residue on my fingers so I'll be using a spoon from now on.

Well, we all know where a bag of Corn Nuts and a hot chocolate led me: That's right, say it with me people. . .Horrible corn nuts breath. Nothing could be done because I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off today without a minute to myself. I kept trying to sneak away and go brush my teeth with the toothbrush I keep in my desk for situations such as these. Well, actually I've never had a Corn Nuts/Hot chocolate situation at work before. I usually use it when I forget to brush my teeth before I leave the house. And let me tell you, that toothbrush is my favorite!! Nothing like having clean teeth in the middle of the day.

But due to the fact that my "get it done" (YEAH RIGHT!) boss was calling me every 20 seconds to fix it things for her, I didn't have any chance to use my favorite pink toothbrush. What infuriated me was that when I told her how to fix the thing, she wouldn't listen to me. So I had to explain it to her step by step very SLOWLY and then when she couldn't get it, I had to go in and do it for her. Yeah, right. ("Get it done" my ass!)

But enough about my boss. I whine about her plenty enough as it is. Let me tell you another funny work story. I had to stop payment on a check by calling Zions Bank. The funny thing is that the check was only for $50, and to stop payment was a fee of $25. But I do what I'm told. So when I called the bank, the lady asked me what the check number was and who the check was made out to. I told her it was made out to "National Republican Congressional Committee."

And then I thought about what if I were trying to cancel a check for something really embarrassing? Like a subscription to "Large, Buff Men Quarterly" or a prescription for "Toe Fungal Salve" or my subscription to licorice of the month. (Jean actually gets that. You may all make fun of her starting. . . . NOW!)

When my brother used to work for the Bank of America people would call in and try to cancel certain charges on their account. Like if someone wouldn't give them their money back, they would try to call and dispute it and say that it was a "fraudulent" charge. So my brother was like "well, you didn't report the card stolen. And it looks like since that charge it has been used quite a bit. Would you like to explain that?" And then they would fold like a cheap suit. Did I mention that half the time he was doing this in Spanish? Good times.

One last totally non-related story (I could go on telling ridiculous non-related stories like this forever) I wear knee highs under my work pants. I don't pull them up to my knee, because that annoys me. So I take that part that cuts off your circulation, and I fold it down and put it right nice on my ankle. Well, when I took it off yesterday, that part had folded on top of it's self and was DIGGING into my ankle. I had like a full on LINE from the nylons. Does everyone know what pitted edema is? Well, that's what my ankles looked like. It was DELICIOUS to look at and touch.

And then today, as I was walking around my house preparing dinner, I felt something "funny" on my lower leg. I thought that maybe my pants were falling down again, but then I realized that I wasn't WEARING any pants. So I look down at my leg as I walk and discover that it's me!! It's my leg fat/lower leg water retention!! MY ANKLES ARE JIGGLING AS I WALK!!! Now, I am used to leg or arm or a belly jiggle every once in a while. But an ANKLE jiggle? Well, that's just depressing. And let's be honest: They are more like CANKLES now.

So, to wrap up this very random post: I didn't have a Gloworm growing up, Marcelo has become wise, I have spent FAR too much at the Maverick these last few days, I subscribe to some sketchy magazines and my feet fat jiggles as I walk. It's been a good day.

And one last thing, I promise, I would like to send a very special "request and dedication" to my two bestest of best friends Judd and Reagan. I am so blessed to have you both in my life, and I just want you to know how much I love you. If either of you ever needed it, I would happily donate a kidney, or a piece of my liver, or one of my eyebrows to each one (or both!) of you. A girl considers herself lucky to have someone in her life that she can turn to at any moment, and I am blessed with two of you. I have an idea. Lets all get matching stretch marks somewhere on our bodies to cement our enduring friendship. I've already gotten mine, so it's up to you two to do it now. GO!

I love you two.

Fussy

I logged on with the idea to blog about some things that bother me as of late. And as I was going over it in my head, it just sounded so FUSSY. Like it made me sound whiny and tired. And while I'm extremely tired, I try to avoid whiny-ness at all costs. Here were some of the comments I was going to whine about:

* The fact that I can't breathe and now my husband won't sleep in the same bed with me anymore due to my horrible pregnancy snoring
* When people talk about things that they know nothing about. They give their opinions like they are fact, and try to force everyone to believe them at all costs. And then get belligerent when that person won't believe them
* Being large and fat, both of which are NOT due to pregnancy, and yet not being able to ANYTHING about it which IS due to pregnancy. And as a corollary:
* I can't find any clothes that fit me.
* I'm desperate for a vacation, but I won't get one anytime soon. This is due to the fact that there is only one assistant here, so I can't leave until she's been trained. And Jean won't consider her trained for at least a year. (I'm not mad at you Lynn, I swear.) I just want everyone to realize that I'm burned out and I don't CARE if it's inconvenient for them! I do inconvenient things ALL THE TIME, EVERY DAY. Please just recognize that I need some time to myself.
* Stress about selling my house
* I can't get Marcelo to go anywhere with me or do anything fun on the weekends (or on the week days for that matter!). If he's not working, then he's sleeping. And if he's not doing one of those, then he's hanging out with Juan Carlos. (No, Marcelo. Going over to my dad's house to watch you play pool is NOT fun)
* People not believing that I know what I'm talking about. I'm tired of being told that I don't really get what's going on or people assuming that I don't know what I'm doing.
* People with private Blogs (Sorry Amy. Stop reading right now. I'm about to offend you). Why do you think that your thoughts are worth guarding? I mean, are you putting up some patent ideas on there and you are afraid of people stealing them? The worst case of this is when NO ONE READS YOUR BLOG and you still make it "private". You know, when you ask for "comments" on certain things and no one ever does, but you still feel in necessary to only have "invited" people read it. (I might be swayed if someone tells me a story about how they had a public blog and someone used it to steal their identity. Other than that, no dice)
* In blog related issues, people who take off the option to have anonymous comments posted. If you can't take the heat of someone else's opinion and defend yourself and your ideas, what's the point to life. It's like saying, "I don't want to hear something if it disagrees with my ideas. Those with thoughts other than my own can leave them at the door when they enter my blogsite". Kudos to Reagan for leaving the anonymous option on her site after that "sister RM" post debacle.
* Bad movie reviewers. People who have and IQ of 62 and think that "Ever After" is like the greatest movie EVER. (I was actually going to go off on this one for a LONG time, but I think I basically wrapped it up in 2 lines)
* It's blizzarding outside right now.
*I have an hour of work left

And finally:
* Working 8-9 hours a day and yet still being responsible for all the cooking, cleaning and general maintenance of the house after I get home.

As I go back and read all these things, I don't think I was very effective in sounding NOT whiny. I think, however, I was very VERY effective in sounding super whiny, crotchety, old, tired and all around unhappy. Crap. Please disregard everything you have just read. I don’t want to be “that girl”.

No wait, read on. I'm going to turn the tides and put some things that I’m grateful for:

* I'm pregnant (FINALLY!!!)
* I only have an hour left of work
* The week is almost over
* I have a garage so I never have to dig my car out of the snow ever again. Oh blessed, blessed garage. How I love thee.
* I'm fully planning on getting some tots and/or a hot chocolate with hazelnut flavoring from the local Maverick on my way home. I'll probably stick with just the tots because it means I don't have to get out of my car.
* I finally figured out what I’m getting Judd for her Birthday that was 2 days ago. It’s been ordered and shipped and should get to me in a few days, and then it’ll get to her after that. I hope she doesn’t mind the fact that it will be nearly 10 days late. Or the fat that it'll be wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper, for that is all I have in my house. I also hope she likes it. She might not. Or she might have it already. But I won’t think about that. This is my “positive” section
* I get the bed all to myself to roll around in because Marcelo sleeps in the other room
* My dog doesn’t mind that I’m lazy and fat. She still loves me because I scratch her ears and throw her ball for her.
* I was feeling the baby a whole bunch today. Then I realized it was just diarrhea. (Wait, maybe that should go in the "whiney" section)
* I’ve wasted a half hour of work. Freedom is THAT much closer!!

That is all I can think of right now. I’m sorry if I’ve offended anyone today. I tend to do that a lot. Sorry. (Was it the diarrhea comment, Beth? Sorry)

Have a nice Thursday everyone!!

FOLLOW-UP: Remember my blog about how Jean sent me a text that it was URGENT she got her theater plans last night? Well, I did it first thing this morning, because she called and asked me to do it again. And what do you know? I just logged into her hotmail account and they are still there, unopened! I guess URGENT means "I'M A TOTAL MORON"

Hey Dickson's. . . This one's for you

A New Post for Lynn

Lynn told me that I need to post something new. Not only did she tell me that, but she also clued me in that also that today is TAT's Birthday. (That's Tiffany Amber Thiessen for you laymen). I think Marcelo and I should celebrate this momentous occasion with a can of 7-up and some chicken. Thanks Lynn.

As for her comment that I need to post again, well, I think that everyone needs to post more. And none of this "I like the color blue!" crappy posts. I want something that's going to make me snort chocolate milk out my nose as I read. Or some pictures of yourself in a very compromising and/or embarrassing situation. (All of my current photos fall under that category because I'm roughly the size of a barge)

So I will do my best to give you a snort worth post right now. Well, I'll just tell you that I'm loving the fact that everyone is out of town right now. Except for the fact that I'll get text messages every 20 minutes or so where she tells me to do things. She'll ask me questions and then TOTALLY ignore my answers. Like she'll ask me (multiple times, mind you) if she needs to call someone, and I'll say, "No, I've taken care of it" and then a while later she sends me a message saying, "Well, I called them. It's all taken care of."

I'm thinking. "Uh, yeah, I know it is, because I'M FREAKING TAKING CARE OF IT!" Every once in a while she'll send a message saying, "URGENT. Please call _______." And then I'll call them and it will be so NOT urgent.

Today I got a text from her saying that I need to call Nordstrom and make plans to go pick up some pants for her. You know, they are a part of one of her "cruise outfits" and she wouldn't want to have one less pair of pants for her cruise. HEAVEN FORBID. Oh, did I mention they are VELVET pants? I think that if you have any amount of fat on your legs, you shouldn't wear velvet pants. You might start a fire with the legs rubbing together.

Anyway, I called Nordstrom and told them that they need to put the pants back on hold and she would come to pick them up next week. Let's see when she says when she finds out I didn't pick them up, but I just deferred it for another week so she could do it. Hell, who are we kidding? I'll be the one picking them up next week.

Last Jean story, I swear. (I think that Lynn is the only one that gets anything out of these stories because she's actually EXPERIENCED the crazy that is Jean. I mean others may enjoy these stories, but there's just something that you can't put into words, that just has to be experienced first hand. Call it Jean's "Crazy Musk.") Anyway, today she texts me and says that she can't get a certain email attachment to open on her iPhone. She asks me to open it and re-send it.

Do you want do know what the email was it? I'm sure you do. It was from her builder and it was a picture of her theater room for her new house. It was more like a schematic layout computerized version showing how the walls would be decorated and painted. There was a full shot and an "up close" shot. Well, I'm almost ready to leave for the day and I just have time to do that before I leave.

So I open the file and send it. Well, after I was home she sends me a message saying, "still having problems opening file. Send it again, but send it to other email address. Also, send the email to Lani too. URGENT."

Really? It's desperately urgent that you see a digitally created mock up of your theater room that won't be ready for another 5 months? That's what's so crucially urgent? I didn't agree. So I ignored the text until tomorrow. What can she do? She's golfing in San Diego. Suck it, Jean.

Oh, and I need to send out an apology to my lobster. I didn't call you on your birthday. I'm sorry. I thought about it all day Monday and then TOTALLY forgot about it on Tuesday. And then I remembered it again today. I love you, and I'm sorry.

And I guess it goes without saying that I haven't sent out your present yet. Please don't be mad at me like your mom was mad at you. I'm a super horrible present giver. You know that. But you know what I can give you? Good memories. Remember that time you bought towallas hygienicas and you asked the guy for a bag so you didn't have to walk down the street with them in your hands? And he looked at you like you were crazy. And then we got them home and they were the size of pillows. Good times.

Oh, and remember how that little panaderia right up the street from our home that always had the panes de chocolate? And I would always buy two or three of them and you would never buy any? That was a nice self esteem booster. And how I would force you to go jogging and we would punk the elders and knock on the door and hide. Good times. And finally, two words: Fofys. . . . Galapaguitos. I will worship you forever, Galapaguitos.

Happy Birthday Hillary Claire Judd Parmenter!!

And finally, my current craving: Nothing. I just made myself two bacon, egg and cheese burritos and am no longer wanting any food. I actually want to throw up a little bit. I was talking to Reagan about getting some fries on the way home. I didn't do it. Not because I had a sudden bout of conscious. But because I forgot about it until I got home. (Curse you pregnancy memory loss!) And I didn't get that Chinese food I was craving the either day either. I don't know what happens to me, but I just get so lazy. I guess that's my best weight loss technique: I'm so freaking lazy and hence don't get have the bad food I want. Try it. It's the "Alicia Diet"

Por Fin! Misericordia de mi bebe!!

I finally felt the baby. I would like to say to all of you people that told me "it feels like bubbles" or "it feels like a butterfly", well you are all horrible liars. It feels NOTHING like that. It feels like when you get to the top of a roller coaster and then all of a sudden the bottom drops out from underneath you. It kind of scared me the first time I felt it.

(Sorry for the next description. It's a little graphic). It also kind of feels like when you have diarrhea and your lower belly churns with the anticipation of having to RUN to the bathroom in about 3 minutes. So I was scared when I felt it for the first time thinking that i was going to have to get to the bathroom, and SOON.

I think it's horrible that I compare feeling my baby for the first time to the same feeling of having the runs. But that butterfly thing that everyone told me is a bunch of crap, so I just wanted you all to know it.

I had to describe it to Marcelo by reminding him of when we were driving around with the Realtor in Missouri, and we went over some of those rolling hills. Sometimes we went too fast and we would fly over them and the bottom would drop too quickly. Marcelo knew EXACTLY what that felt like, so I was happy he could understand what it feels like. And I didn't ever have to say "it's like bubbles." He would've thought I was crazy.

As a work update, everyone will be gone next week. That will be awesome. I don't have to deal with anyone's attitude or hear any more lies about Lynn. But it will also stink because it will delay finding another assistant for a full week. I mean, Jean has to make the FINAL decision and she will be gone ALL WEEK. It'll be fine as long as I'm financially compensated for my. It's horrible that I say that, but I can't change the situation so I might as well profit from it.

Oh, and Jean said again yesterday, "I wouldn't mind having a older assistant. You know, someone in their 30's that won't get pregnant and leave." Isn't that illegal to say? I don't know, but it seems wrong to tell me to my face that she doesn't want me to get pregnant. Well, when she eventually finds out about my pregnancy, I'm going to tell her exactly why I didn't let her know sooner. Let's see what she says then.

I think I'm going to start putting the foods that I'm craving at the end of my blogs. So today It's Chinese food. I was doing TiVo homework and Stephen Colbert was eating some chicken lo mien out of a take out food container. I really wanted some. So I'm going to hunt down some good Chinese food today. I will say that that is one of the things Utah doesn't have. California and New York kick everyone else's but when it comes to Chinese food. But I'm determined to find some good stuff today. If you know any places in the Provo/Orem area that won't give me instant regret, please let me know.

The Great Escape

Lynn might've found another job. She might have to take a small pay cut, but it will be doing something related to her masters degree. I will miss her horribly, but I am SOOO jealous she's getting out.

Here is the other thing. She might leave this weekend and just not come back. I mean, the POLITE thing is to give 2 weeks notice. But who are we kidding? No one in that office is ever polite to us. And you KNOW that if Jean fired her, she wouldn't give her two weeks notice so she could go find another job.

And I don't think that it would matter if she gave that notice or not. It's probably better she doesn't. Because if she did, they would just treat her horribly for those two weeks, and then talk total crap about her when she leaves. This way we can avoid the awkwardness and they can go right to talking that crap

Did I mention Jean, Matt and DAn are all leaving this weekend to go to a conference in San Diego? If she left and sent them an email saying that she's not returning, they would DIE. And I would prefer it because I wouldn't have to deal with them for a week.

If she makes the announcement on Friday, I'll need to work on my "shocked" face. Here are some of my practice faces:

You know what? Nevermind. I just looked at the photos I took, and I CANNOT show those to anyone. I don't know why I even go outside of the house looking the way I do. If you were to see those pictures, you would say, "WHO ATE ALICIA?!?!" I can't let you see those pictures. Please forgive me. I'm very fat.

But anyway, I'm totally going to have to play it dumb. I think i'll actually play it upset. Like "HOW COULD SHE DO THAT?!?! HOLY CRAP!!! I'M GOING TO BE SO BUSY!! WHY WOULDN'T SHE TELL ME!?!!" I think if I play it like I've been betrayed, Jean will believe me more.

Again, I'll miss Lynn, but I know we'll stay in touch. How else will she find out about all the crap that everyone is saying about her?

Anyway, wanna hear a funny story? (If you don't stop reading right now). Well, everyday I lock up Raya in the morning when I go to work and then after I come home for lunch. After lunch I lock her up for the afternoon. Before you tell me how horrible I am, please know that she's totally used to it. On Saturdays, she just wants to sleep all morning because that's what she's used to.

Well, today, I did everything as normal, but then when I came home this is what I found:


That's right. Somehow I forgot to lock her cage, or she jimmy-rigged it open and she a a HEYDAY with our trashcan. Can you see her in the background hiding in her cage? I didn't even have to yell at her. She was there before I came in, just WAITING for the wrath. Come see what I mean:




















I just had to LAUGH when I saw this. I mean, I don't blame her. It would be like getting mad at a shark for being attracted to blood. She knows that she's no supposed to, but she can't stop herself. She was just sitting her in cage awaiting my return. Did I mention my dog is hilarious and I love her?

Ultrasound Pictures

Remember like a week ago I told you I would provide ultrasound pictures and the story on how everyone thinks I'm going to have a boy. Yeah, I was a liar, but it's not entirely my fault! I was going to go scan them in at work, but when I tried it, the pictures were really grainy. And everyone who's ever seen an ultrasound picture knows they are grainy ALREADY without being scanned.

So my next idea was to take a picture of them and then upload the pictures. But when I tried to take a picture with our work camera, the pictures were all blurry because they were so close. So I didn't know what to do. Do I go to Kinko's and pay to scan them in? But what if after all that money, they still look like crap? ARGH!!

So just now I tested MY own digital camera. SUCCESS!!! I don't know why my boss's camera is so much crappier than mine, but I am thankful that I have a rocking camera. So here are the pictures of our little gusano de seda.















These are pictures of the head and face. I think it's pretty obvious where the nose mouth and chin are. That thing right by the chin is its little fist. It kept swinging its little fist up by its face and making it hard to get a good picture. But anyway, you can see that it has nice FULL lips. Maybe it's just puckering up for the photo. You know, working the camera, making sure we get a nice profile shot. Great. I'm giving birth to Derek Zoolander.

Now for the more controversial pictures:
















On the left, you will see a nice blurry picture that I've been told is a leg. A what? A leg? Um, ok. Maybe I can see the femur ball (of the ball and socket joint) attached to a long white something that could be the femur shaft. But that means that we are looking at the side of the body, and the rest of the baby is up in that black and white mess at that top of the picture. So, I think that was a real crap one.

Now on the right we have a very clear arm. See it right at the top of the white blobs? You can see the bend in the arm and the bright white bone running through the middle of it. Below you can see a bigger picture of this ultrasound with the arm being pointed at in black.

In that same picture below, I have also put a nice white circle around the "controversial" part of the ultrasound. Here is it for you to look at.

So when Alan, Rhonda, Evan, Ryan and Marcia all saw this picture, they were all SWEARING to me that it's a boy. They were saying that those little white doo-dads I've circled are a boy's parts.

Now, I would LOVE to believe you, but please tell me what is that thing in the middle of the "torso" area? It looks like my kid has a whole in their body. If the picture is so clear, and it's so clear that I'm having a boy, why can't you pick out ALL the baby's body parts on this picture? I mean, that could be a foot tucked up under its butt. Who knows?

Apparently all my cousins know. And what they know is that I'm having a boy. I would like Lisa to look at this ultra sound. She's the expert. (But don't tell me, Lisa, because I really do want to be surprised. ) And I'm getting weirded out because I keep having dreams that it's a girl. So I don't want to start thinking one thing only to have it turn out the other way, and then I will run the risk of being disappointed. And that would be the WORST.

So now you all have ultrasound pictures of my little "gusano de seda" who I still haven't felt. Stubborn little baby. It's DEFINITELY Marcelo's child with a disposition like that. Man, I am so looking forward to meeting this little gusano. We'll see if it's what I think in another 4 and a half months.

The Classic Conundrum

Just like I predicted earlier today, Marcelo left at 11 am, returned at 2:30 and has been sleeping since. It is currently 8:00 and I've done NOTHING all day but TiVo homework, and bathe. That's right my friends. I took a shower AND washed my hair. Now, you might no think this is a great accomplishment, but let me tell you that I haven't washed my hair since Wednesday.

I should mention that I didn't get around to bathing until about 1 pm.

Now, please note that I didn't say that I've gotten dressed today. That's because I haven't. I'm still in my underwear that I put on after my shower. Many people think that it's weird that Marcelo and I prefer to be in our underwear while at home. I don't know why that is. I mean, I lived with roommates before I got married and he lived at home. It was not acceptable to walk around in just your chones at either of those places. But we love being in just underwear. In our defense, our underwear does cover up over 3/4 of our bodies.

So now, here is the dilemma: I am starving and we have no food here. I know, because I've gotten up to look in the fridge no less than 3 times in the last 2 hours. So what do I do? Do I force myself to get dressed and go get some tots and a shake from Sonic? (For that is what I really want). Here are some other options I thought about:

* Put on my robe and go through the drive through. This will allow me to buy the food, but not actually get dressed.

* Put on a shirt ONLY and then put something on my lap so the people at Sonic can't see that I'm not wearing any pants. Again, this allows me to get food without getting dressed.

(Please note that these ideas work because we have a garage that allows me to get in my car without anyone seeing that I'm not wearing pants or that I'm just wearing a robe. Don't you all wish you had a garage so you could drive to fast food joints in different nivels of undress?)

* Ask Marcelo to get me the food. But he would never approve of my choice of dinner. So that idea is out.

* Decide that maybe tots and ice cream are not the best food choices and eat an apple that I've just now miraculously found on my fourth trip to the fridge. Let's be honest. This one will never happen. Let's just move it along to the next choice which is:

* Put on a shirt, pants AND shoes and go get crap food like a civilized person and not like a piece of white trash who doesn't like to wear clothes.

I would like to point out that NONE of the previous options I just discussed involved me putting on a bra. That is because the idea never entered my mind. There will be no bra wearing of ANY sort today.

So, I'm about to pass out from lack of food. Did I mention the last time I ate was at 9:30 this morning? Yeah, it's been almost 12 hours. I've got to go get some food. Maybe i'll get more than tots. We'll see. There still is always Del Taco. But I do want ice cream. THE CONUNDRUM.

You know what I really want? Some fries and Traci's Peanut Butter Cup from Leatherfaces. There is no better combo. Am I right, Bahamas?

MARCELO UPDATE: Since starting this blog, he woke up, and is now watching cage fighting on TV. I don't mind cage fighting because we have TiVo and we fast forward through all the boring fight parts till just the knockouts at the end. And let's be honest: Those are the best parts. Why do you think that Sportscenter only show highlights?

But now we have a problem: How to sneak out of the house and get my hands on some of that contraband food now that Marcelo is awake? Another conundrum. (Am I using that word correctly?)

And finally, are you all as excited as I am about the complete Jane Austin movie series that's being shown on PBS? They are showing ALL her 6 books that have been made into movies, and they even made 4 new movies for this series. SOOOO LOOKING FORWARD TO IT!!! Put it on your TiVo's people. You do NOT want to miss out.

All Quiet on the Southern Front

I haven't felt the baby yet. This upsets me. It doesn't really worry me because every time I go into the doctor's office I get to hear the heart beat. And the ultrasound last week. And I SAW it move, so I know it's alive and kicking. But I can't feel it.

I've been told that I have to be quiet and still to be able to feel it. So I lie there in the morning and at night and just wait. Nothing. It's like my baby is making sure NOT to kick me when I can feel it, just to piss me off. And I don't like that my baby is trying to piss me off even before it's born.

I'm just saying that I'm trying to be a good mom and it's like my offspring is making a preemptive strike to let me know that IT'S the boss. I know it will be the boss, but I'd like to delude myself into thinking that for at least 5 more months that I do have some say in my life.

Does it know what I'm going through for it? I keep getting fatter, and it's getting harder and harder to hide my belly from my co-workers and my boss. I'm going into sticker shock for how much this pregnancy is going to cost, and then there is the stress about trying to sell our house in the VERY month that I quit my job and have a baby. I'm just a little upset that my baby knows all of this (I've told it everything so it's up to date on what's going on) and still chooses to be stubborn. I do all of this for it, but it doesn't let me feel any benefits of the pregnancy. It's very hurtful. You know, in my heart.

On a different note, Marcelo didn't sleep at ALL last night. He cleaned the baby's room, installed a light fixture, decided that he didn't like the light fixture, un-installed it and then watched some TV. Didn't get a moments sleep. I don't know what to do to help him. He just worries and then he can't sleep.

But he's gone to help a friend move a dryer up two flights of stairs and then he's going to come home and crash. I know he will. So what does that leave the wife to do? Anyone? Anyone? I am bored already, and I won't be doing anything with Marcelo any time soon so I don't know what to do with my day. I've already taken then little girl for a walk, and she's now taking a nap. She's used to sleeping all day while I'm at work, so she's no fun. What to do? What to do?

Suggestions?

I thank you for your time.

(I think I might go get some Del Taco. Reagan talks about it all the time. I just don't know if I want to be burping up Taco Seasoning for the rest of the night. Why do they make that stuff so strong? It's like freaking paint thinner: if you leave a spoonful of it on your counter, it will corrode away a hole)

I'm so excited. I'm so excited. I'm so. . .So . . . SCARED

I love Marcelo. He is like the freaking most awesome person in the whole wide world. He works so hard, and is so loving. He loves me, he loves the little girl, and he loves our little baby. He is SOOO sure that we are having a girl, so he's been thinking about girl names all the time.

The other day Marcelo told me to go look at this Word document he had created. It had some names he had been thinking about, and those were names that he really liked. So I open up the document, and this is what I find. (The spelling is all original)

Allison
Elena
Anabel
Kimberlly
Kelly
Sabrina

DISCLAIMER!! Now, I don't want to offend anyone with the rest of my blog. So if you have any special attachments to any of these names, just stop reading now. If your name is one that I have listed above, or if your most beloved child is named one of the names above, just stop now. Harsh comments are to follow. DISCLAIMER FINISHED

WHAT THE HECK IS HE THINKING?!?!? Does he plan on naming our child something circa mid-80's? I mean Kimberlly? With TWO ll's? Is the second L supposed to make the name less lame? LESS EFFECTIVE!! It doesn't work and is still not a cool name. I was just so thrown back that he wants to name our kid some generic name that everyone has.

Reagan thinks it's odd that he wants to name our kid some American boring name, and I want to name our kid some Latino name. Marcelo tells me that the Latino names I've picked out are not cool. So it makes sense that he grew up hearing those Latino names and I grew up hearing those American names, so we don't want our kid to have the names with which we have had bad associations.

He said he really likes Sabrina. But who can ever name their kid that and not be teased for naming your kid after a teenage witch? The only one I actually don't hate is Anabel. But I told Marcelo that the poor girl will have people misspelling her name for her whole life. Now that he's lived in the USA, he knows EXACTLY what that's like. (MARCELO HAS ONE "L" PEOPLE!! JUST ONE!!!)

Allison is just a boring name, and you couldn't PAY me to name my kid that. And Elena is the name of a fat Mexican kid that eats paste. And it usually follows the name "Maria". Maria Elena, yeah, that's TOTALLY the fat Mexican kid that eats the paste. Now, I don't have a problem with fat people or Mexicans. I myself am currently one of those two. But I don't want my kid to be a chubby paste eater. So Elena is out.

Now, Kelly is another generic name. I would put it up there with Emily, or Jessica or Rebecca. Just like BLAH. But the BEST thing happened last night. After reading scriptures and turning off the lights, Marcelo decided it wast time to talk to the baby. He rubbed my (ample) belly and said, "Oh Kelly, how are you doing tonight?"

That made me thinking about the names I had seen and we started talking about the names. He commented on how he thinks those names sound really cool, and how they would be good names. I said he was crazy, and I asked him where he got those names. He said, "You know where I got that name Kelly? I got it from that show, 'Zach Morris'."

Did I mention that I love my husband. Do you know how freaking awesome it is that, #1 my husband watched Saved by the Bell growing up JUST LIKE ME. #2 He does not call the show "Saved by the Bell" but instead calls the SHOW "Zach Morris." (This is actually true for all Ecuadorians. They also call The Simpsons "Los Sinsoms") and finally #3 He thought that Kelly Kapowski was so cute, that she deserved to have our first born named after her.

I could NOT believe it!! I was in heaven just sitting there enjoying that moment of realization. I actually sat up and kissed Marcelo for that comment. And if any of you have ever been 5 months pregnant and FAT, you will know what a challenge that is. I would just like to say that my my husband is freaking AWESOME and I challenge any of you to have a baby naming story where the punchline is: "I think we should name our child after Kelly Kapowski"

It doesn't change my mind, and actually I think it makes a stronger case for why NO ONE should EVER name their kid Kelly. But it's nice to know why he wanted it. Now I will forever feel uncomfortable when I hang out with Tiffany Amber Thiessen. (And yes, I just Googled her name so that I would spell it correctly)

Bottom line: Don't get addicted to caffeine pills the night before your big music break with your two best friends and don't name your kid Kelly. I LOVE YOU MARCELO!!

Drop Dead Gorgeous

I love the movie "Drop Dead Gorgeous." It is the most rocking movie ever. I am currently watching it on TV right now and there is no greater movie. If you haven't seen it, you need to go out right now and watch it. Please be aware that some parts are just "too good to be true: can't take my eyes off of you."

You will thrill at that terrific Mount Rose, Minnesota accents, you will be proud to be an American, and from then on, you will always vow to move your car if a cripple comes.

Don't be alarmed when you find out that Kristen Dunst is in the movie. You forget that she's not such a great actress and get swept away by dog calls, sign language dancing and skirts with over 8,000 crystals made my one of my father's many Meh-hee-can workers.

Mount Rose American Teen Princess Kicks butt!! And in closing, I would just like to say that Atomic power makes me, Molly Howard, proud to be an Asian American.

Telling Secrets in Utah

I decided to tell my family about the pregnancy. I don't know what finally pushed me over the edge, but I think it was the guilt. I wasn't sure how certain members of my family would take the news, but I was sure that some others would be very upset if went the whole pregnancy never told them.

So Thursday, I called Tina and told her. I asked her if she thought that I should tell everyone else. She of course said I should. I explained to her a little more about how nervous I was, and what if they start asking questions and make me regret telling them? She said, "Well, do the questions actually bother you, or is it more who is saying them? Like if I said the same thing, would you feel the same way?" She had a good point there. I might just be a little sensitive because those questions come from my mom.

She said, "You have to tell her. TONIGHT. And with all the crap that is happening with Jacob, this might really cheer her up!" So I waited for Marcelo to come home and I called her that night. She started by updating me with the latest "Jacob Drama." Point Simple: She feels like she's become a prisoner in her own house. But that story should be saved for a later time.

Anyway, so I could hear that people were arriving at the house and she needed to be with them, so she said, "is there anything else?" and i said, "Yeah. I'm sorta, kinda, a little bit pregnant." There was a long intake of breath and she was like "REALLY? OOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!" And so I knew that I had made the right decision. And then I had to drop the bomb of how far along I am. I said, "And I'm kind of far along. I'm 20 weeks already." She thought I was kidding. Her actual words were "Are you kidding?"

She was VERY excited about me being pregnant. She told me that she kind of felt the same way when she kept getting pregnant over and over again. She said that she worried what her siblings or other might say, but that her mother, was always super supportive. She also made a point of telling me her schedule for that month, so I was aware that she could be here at ANY TIME to help with the delivery/post delivery hijinx. (and I fully plan on hijinx, people) So that was nice to know that my mother has been in my same position many times.

She said, "did you know when I was out there in September?" And I tried to remember when she was here, and I said, "No, I didn't find out till the end of September" and she said, "but you knew when we were out there for Thanksgiving, right?" and I said, "Yeah, I knew then" and she said, "You rascal!!" But secretly I think that she was happy I told her so late. I mean, basically the first three months are all whining about how sick you are, right? Who wouldn't mind missing that?

I tried to call Sarah that night, but she couldn't be reached. I finally talked to her and told her the news and she said, "YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" That was more that I was expecting. I don't know, but maybe my family was starting to worry if I was reproductively challenged? Well, I'm not. It was also very nice to hear that she supported me too. I was worried about that one as well.

And then last night there was a get together at Nate's house. Alan and Rhonda were bringing food to make homemade Cafe Rio salads. I knew that I would probably be telling everyone there, but I didn't know how I should make the announcement. Should I stand up on a table and ting a glass like I was offering a toast or something? Nate's in-laws told me that I should give the announcement in Spanish and then let the other ones figure it out on their own.

But an opportunity presented itself and so I didn't have to think about it. Alan welcomed everyone to the house, and he said, "we'll have the prayer and then this is the order: Pregnant women get to eat first." And he turns around to Holly Thompson (who is 24 weeks pregnant) and he says "So that means Holly goes first. Unless there are other pregnant women here." And just like that, I raised my hand.

The room didn't have to go silent, because it already was. But everyone's eyes just went really big and Alan said, "I didn't know! I didn't get the announcement." And I said, "I just made it!" And then everyone was excited and then we ate food. It was good food.

So now everyone knows why i passed out on new years eve at 10 pm and I didn't mind sleeping through the festivities. And why I stopped stripping wall paper that one day: I went into the bathroom and read the bottle on the wallpaper stripper that said, "This product has a chemical known to the state of California to cause cancer and birth defects." I think mom just thought I was SUPER lazy because everyone else was upstairs and I was downstairs and she was like "come finish the walls with us" and I was like "Ummm, no. I'm done." That's why I was done.

About that blog that a posted a while ago about the Thanksgiving shenanigans and my family not knowing about the pregnancy: I have to say that my family really surprised me and made me feel really awful for thinking that they wouldn't be supportive. I guess I underestimated the support they would give. And I feel badly about that. So I apologize for that. Sorry.

Apparently people think we are crazy because we don't want to know what we are having. Like last night I pulled out my ultra sound photos, and there were many comments about how everyone could DEFINITELY tell what I'm having. I disagree but i'll leave that story for tomorrow after I scan them in so you can see what I'm talking about.

But the comments are coming across continents. Marcelo talked to his family on Friday and his mom asked if my belly was growing out in front or to the sides. Well, truthfully, I'm just plain BIG right now. And I have some pretty substantial love handles, so Marcelo answered the best he could and said, "Mostly to the sides" so his mom said, "Then it's definitely a girl." I love that Latino wisdom. (AKA superstition)

Ok, That's enough for today. Ultra sound pictures tomorrow!!