List of things I did today at work

As I was reading Lynn's comment yesterday from my blog about how she was directed to order Dan's Thanksgiving turkey just so Jean could "hump her head" made me think about all the things I've recently had to do in order that Jean can show her dominance around the office. Honestly, it would just be easier if she copped a squat and took a deuce in the middle of the floor. Then we could know definitively that SHE'S the one in charge, and there wouldn't have to be so much head humping going on.

So her is just a partial list of things I've had to do TODAY for the a-holes in my office.

1. I asked Matt if he's taken down the sign at one of our listings. He replied by sending me this email.

“I installed a metal frame sign on the same day I listed the property, a Saturday. In fact, I’d asked Lynn the day before (Friday) to prepare the sign for me (He means the small sign that sticks in the ground that we have in the office. As opposed to the larger signs which we have to order up from a sign service), which she forgot to do; and then on Monday, when I turned in the listing—with the written instruction that I’d installed a stamp-it-yourself-in-the-ground (aka “metal frame”) sign and with the further instruction to create a voice ad for the 800# attached to that sign—despite all these instructions, Lynn nevertheless and still ordered a post-in-the-ground sign. The Circlepix shot in fact shows both signs in the ground. I de-installed the s-i-y-i-t-g (aka “mf”) sign, and now you need to order the post-in-the-ground sign to be de-installed. Already I’m conflating Lynn with Tracey, in terms of ineptitude. Sheesh."

(Just in case you were wondering, the word "conflating" means to mix or combine things: a transitive and intransitive verb to join or merge two or more things into a unified whole. i.e. "I'm afraid you've mistakenly conflated two separate sets of facts." Leave it to Matt to be more of a total asshole during a total asshole email)
Now, I would like everyone to know that Lynn is borderline genius and Tracey was a 45 year old (very likely) mentally challenged woman. Very nice, (as most mentally challenged are) but slower than a bag of turtles and dumber than a palate of rocks. To illustrate this, let me tell you that Lynn has a masters degree which she achieved in 6 years. (It took me 5 just to get my bachelors, which I guess isn’t saying TOO much. I’m a bad student) and she recently told me that she took the LSAT for "fun" and scored a 170 on it. 180 is the max, just in case you were wondering. (Sorry if you didn't want that info spread around Lynn. I just thought that people should know to whom Matt was comparing Tracey)

Tracey would have to write ads for the homes illustrated magazine, and it would take her a day and a half. 12 FULL hours, and get this: THE COMPUTER WRITES THEM FOR YOU!! There is a button you push and it creates new wording describing the house, features, etc. What a joke!! And then when she finally left, I looked at the ad that she completed in that time, and there was something wrong with EVERY AD! I couldn’t believe it!! 12 hours to do something that I had to fix anyway.

Lynn was actually really scared to do those ads because she watched Tracey struggle through them, and then when it was her chance, she just laughed and laughed because she realized Tracey is a moron.

But Lynn told me the truth about this “sign” incident. She said that he NEVER asked her to create a sign for him, and then he specifically asked her to ORDER UP a big sign. He even went so far as to ask her later in the day if the sign got ORDERED UP. She said yes, she ordered it up. He CONVENIENTLY didn’t mention that little fact when he was vilifying Lynn. Well, I know that he was confused, wasn’t communicating well, and then after Lynn left he felt totally justified in blaming her for the whole thing. (The day after she left, he actually sent an email to Jean telling her this and saying, “SEE!! Lynn checked out a long time ago.” Jean was kind enough to forward it to me, (presumably so I would start to hate Lynn too) and I sent it to Lynn, (whom I don’t hate and am very envious of right now)

Lynn, I miss you. This job sucks THAT MUCH MORE without you. Moving on.

2. Today, I also had to hunt down the phone number for Utah State Tax Commission. Jean forgot to pay her personal property taxes (How does she not learn? We JUST got audited for this last month). She told me she thinks she missed the deadline, and that I would have to go down to the county and get the new assessment form for her. So after an extensive search looking for the phone number AND address of the place, she calls out to me “Oh, I found it!!” Turns out she’s a horrible organizer and loses things on her desk all the time. She found the voucher on her desk under a giant stack of crap.

Here’s what I don’t get, where does she get off yelling at me about my drawer being open and nearly taking off Lynn’s hand one day when she slammed her door shut, and yet she loses things ALL THE TIME because she can’t get it together? I’m sure I would’ve been blamed for her losing it had it not turned up. You know, I didn’t put it in a red folder, or a blue folder, or I put it in her box but it only had a yellow post-it, and she needed it to have an orange post-it so she wouldn’t lose it. You know. My fault. Always.

3. I got a call from Larry H. Miller of Lexus. I could see Matt was on the other line, so I put her on hold. I then IM’s Matt and told him she was there. He sends back a message “Ask when they can pick me up.” But by that time she had hung up. I said, “Sorry, she’s gone. I guess you can just call her back” and then he says this, “801-224-3200” WHAT THE FUUUUUU!!!!!???? So, I’m to understand from that that you want ME to call your car dealership for you. Great. I am the office slave, so I’ll get right on that.

So I call, and the service guy starts saying that a) he doesn’t know what is going on with the car. He can’t get it to make the same sound Matt described. b) he wants to keep the car overnight c) he doesn’t have a car to give matt. After I hang up with Matt and give him this info, he says, “Well, what are they going to do about it?” Ummmm, I DON’T KNOW!!! WHY DON’T YOU DO YOUR OWN DAMN PERSONAL CALLS SO I DON’T HAVE TO KEEP UP WITH THIS INANE GAME OF MESSAGE TAG!”

That was it. That was my day. When you say your prayers tonight, thank H.F. that you aren’t living my life. I’m done now. I’m going home and all I want to do is eat fries and watch my TiVo. But my mom is there, and she’s going to try to knock the fries out of my hand and then pester me until I agree to go to the gym or go for a walk in this falling snow. But I’m not going to let her nag me today. Tonight is MY night. BACK OFF LADY.

Have a good Wednesday, everyone!

Lazy Tuesday

My mom is trying to get me to help her strip wallpaper but I'm doing a GREAT job of ignoring her. I actually helped her for a little while, but now I won't be doing any of it. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the chemical they used to strip the glue has an agent in it known to cause cancer and birth defects in the state of California. But mostly I'm just lazy. And I have horrible acid reflux right now. I don't know what it was that I ate, but I'll have to remember to stay away from it in the future.

Next item of conversation: I have horrible Dandruff. This is due to many factors: I live in a horribly dry desert state, I have really sensitive skin, I have very fine hair, and lastly, I ran out of my dandruff shampoo.

Now, with just ONE of these things happening you can see how dandruff would sprout up from time to time. But all of them happened last week. It's like a full on bowl of corn flakes up there! Right around my hairline you can see the dry skin, and it almost looks like when you burn your scalp and it peels. That's how dry and crackly it is.

I don't wash my hair every day because it dries it out,(so I've been told) but on day #2, the flakes are so large, they require their own boarding pass on flights. It gets awkward when the TSA agents say, "And now we need to pat down your head and check those dandruff flakes for any liquids over 5 Oz."

But I ran out of my Head and Shoulders: Ocean Mist the other day, and the flakes became visible from space. I just got a new bottle of it, and my scalp skin is still trying to get back on schedule. You know what? I never did ask my OB/GYN if it was ok for me to use H&S while pregnant. That could be bad. . .

Next topic: Office birthday parties. Jeans' was last week. And guess what? She got stiffed. I'm sure I will somehow be blamed for this. But you know what? For years I watched Heather stress out for MONTHS about what to get her, and then Jean would whine anyway about what she got. There was NO WAY I was going to do that. And I love the fact that even though Matt has been there more than 10 years and Dan's been there more than 6, they always leave it up to the assistant to plan the party and pick out the gift.

This year, I wasn't playing. I was NOT going to give her another $300 pen that she really didn't need and she only wanted so she could pull it out and TELL people that it was worth $300. For her, the best presents are things that she doesn't really need, but are flashy so they impress the little peons who have never seen anything to LUXURIOUS in their lives. What a waste.

So I threw out some ideas, and we decided we would all go and do something fun as an office. (Lani, her roommate suggested we get her season 8 of Monk on DVD and maybe another pen. UHHHH) But we vetoed that and all decided on the fun activity. They picked the weekend to do it (March 22nd) and I think that I'm going to be mysteriously SICK that day. Or I'm going to sprain my ankle, or just something to get out of spending anymore time than necessary with these horrible people.

But here is the BEST part about Jean's birthday. She'll get cards in the mail, and she'll PROP THEM UP ON HER DESK LIKE LITTLE "FRIEND TROPHIES." It's as if she's trying to remind everyone that she DOES TOO have friends, cause look!! They sent her a card! Tomorrow will be 8 days after her birthday and she'll still have those cards up. And they aren't facing her!! Like I can understand if maybe she keeps up the pretty ones or all of them so she can see them and remember who sent them to her. But no!! they are facing AWAY from her. So that anyone that walks in her office sees them. They are CLEARLY on display not for her benefit, but for the enjoyment of OTHERS. Um, Jean? I don't care what other people think about you. I think that you are a turd.

Here's the thing: I don't see a card from any past assistants. Even her most precious Erin didn't send her a card or even STOP BY on her birthday. (Yeah, Heather, Erin moved back. Jean made sure to let me know that she offered her a job. I wanted to say, "did she let you know that she would rather stick needles in her eyes then come and work for you?" But I know she just wanted me to squirm and think that my job was in jeopardy. I never did. No one wants to come back and work for Jean) Anway, I wonder why there were no cards in there from past assistants. Hmmmm. . .

I mean Jean is always telling me what a great job I have, right? Why is it that she can't let me figure that out on my own? Like she doesn't trust that I'll be able to figure that one out? I DID graduate from college, Jean. I can figure things out! But for some reason, she feels the need to CONSTANTLY remind me about how GREAT my job is. After the 2nd reminder, I was suspicious, and then when I heard it the third time I knew the truth. But by then, it was too late. I was stuck, and she knew it. Bastard boss.

So that's my random info for the day. And here is my random picture. It's a picture of my 6 year old niece being patted down at the airport in Texas. Apparently 6 year -olds are the newest terror threat. Watch out! Your 5 year olds are next! You can't pull anything over on us!

HAPPY NATIONAL PANCAKE DAY!!

Today is National Pancake day. Mom and I woke up at 6:30 so we could be out the door at 6:45 so we could be at the IHOP at 7:00 pm. And why did we do this? BECAUSE IHOP IS GIVING AWAY FREE PANCAKES!!!

That's right. All day today, until 10 pm, they are giving away a "short stack" of 3 pancakes with a GIANT dollop of butter. (I think I should've asked for another scoop of it on top of my short stack)

I think that I should go there after work today for another fine helping of free pancakes. My only lament is that I didn't get to post this until nearly 1 pm today, thus cutting out 5 hours of everyone's pancake enjoyment. (well, everyone who stalks my blog and reads it religiously, that is).

So, if you are reading this before 10 pm on Tuesday, Feb 12 GO GET YOURSELF SOME PANCAKES!! You may have to fight your way through a crowd of bums, hippies and or poor college students, but those pancakes are AWESOME.

And don't forget to tip your waitresses.

Papa was a Rollin' (Republican) Stone

This post may be a little old. Super Tuesday WAS nearly a week ago. But anyway, here it is.

I know this won't come as a shock, but my family has been republican for many many years. However, it may surprise you that this is due mostly to my MOTHER'S side of the family. I have no idea what my father's family believes politically. I do know that my father loves Rush and Sean Hannity-Two of the people I most despise in this world. It's not so much WHAT they say that pisses me off, but how they say it with total arrogance. They speak as if they have done all the investigation and have come to the conclusion of what RIGHT is and then they mock and belittle those that don't agree with them. I hate that. I can't listen to them without total rage boiling up in my veins.

But this post is about my mom's family's political feelings. My mom was born and raised in California, a state that many people consider to be STAUNCHLY Democrat. Add to that the fact that she has many hippie siblings who when we get together at our family reunions do nothing but drink coffee, smoke pot and talk about what the word "jihad" really means when those radicals declare it on us.

But it all started with my grandma. She's a R-E-P-U-B-L-I C-A-N till the day she dies. Oh wait, she already died, and on that day, she was holding her little ceramic elephant and talking about President Bush. I kid. She was doing neither. But she was still a devoted Republican and let me tell you why: Her husband ran for U.S. Senate in the state of California as a Republican.

That's right, my grandfather vied for a seat in Congress. He didn't win. If he did, I probably wouldn't be here today. But I need to get a copy of a greeting card the family sent out the year that he was running and scan it into the computer for y'all to see. It has a picture of him and his family sitting around the tree and my mom has to be 8 years old. They are the perfect model of family unity and what everyone should aspire to become. Of course, it was all a lie.

It would only be 7 years later when my grandfather would take my grandmother on a FABULOUS trip to the Virgin Islands and tell her that he no longer wanted to be with her. He would say that he didn't actually want to divorce her, but he did want to move to a million dollar home overlooking the golf course with his secretary/mistress while she stayed in her crappy home down in town. He said that he would be living with and having sex with someone else, but he would still stay married to her on paper. Makes sense right?

As a side note, it was always REALLY awkward when we had to go visit him and his lady. Her name was Lydia, and we called her just that. Not grandma, not grammie, not anything endearing. Just Lydia. It was weird and very confusing for a child of 5 or 6 to comprehend. I like to think that he didn't win because Providence knew 7 years before hand that he would be a bastard towards his family really soon.

Anyway, I think that my mother's older brother and her youngest sister rebelled against their father, the Republican, and hence became the BIGGEST hippies you'll ever see. But that didn't stop my grandma from continuing her strong support of the Republican party. And she would go to all the rallies and donate to the Republican Party. She was WAY in, like the mafia. I'm pretty sure G-ma had the elephant tattooed on her lower back. A conservative tramp stamp, so to speak. I just always thought it was funny that in a very blue state, my grandma is royally screwed by my red grandpa, and yet still defends his political party to the very end.

And truth be told, I just found out that my mother is more like her hippie siblings than she lets on. (Did I mention my mom is in town? She'll be here for 3 weeks. Yikes. A horror story follows at the end of this post) So I'm watching "A Baby Story" on TLC, and we happen to be watching this one episode where a woman decides to go the natural route. All other episodes of A Baby Story, when the women do it naturally, they are all really calm and it looks no different than the other births with an epidural. But this lady was TWEAKING. She was convulsing and moaning and just all together HIGH DRAMA.

I mentioned to my mother that most women weren't like that on this show, and she said, "Did you know I delivered all of you naturally? All except my first" WHAT THE WHHAAAAAT?? I just stared at her open mouthed. I said, "You are such a hippie!!!" She continued. "With my first one, I was knocked out completely. After 36 hours of labor, they had to put me out. That's what converted me. After that I swore to myself that I would never do that again."

You have to remember that my mom delivered her first baby 9 days after her 18th birthday. This was way back in 1968 when they still didn't know what was going on with drugs and better birthing methods. I don't know HOW they knocked her out, but I could see it being ether or some other primitive substance. In later years she would say the same about birth control, always calling it "NASTY birth control". She took it for 5 or 6 years and then couldn't get pregnant. Again, I'm sure that this was due to the fact that back then hormone levels were jacked to the sky.

But back to the point: my mother is a hippie. She used to make fun of my aunt's La Leche League practices (like those of nursing your kid till they are old enough to go to kindergarten) and her crazy hippie practices of not shaving her legs, arms or anything else. But she is one of those herself. I mean, who else besides hippies have 5 kids naturally? Let me tell you that the last baby was born in 1989. I'm sure medicine had improved enough in those years to make it safe for you to get an epidural. But nope, she did that one naturally too.

Here's the craziest one: She held off having my sister Julie for nearly an hour while she waited for my brother Jeff to arrive. He was her birthing coach, and was there for all the classes from the start. They couldn't find Jeff (this is in 1985, before cell phones) and he was missing. And so while they tried to track him down, she stopped pushing and stopped everything. She said that was the worst, but she made it. She also said that was the one birth where they didn't give her an episiotomy. She tore a shape of what she called "Lord Voldemort." I think she meant a zig zag like on Harry's forheard, because that's the line she drew with her finger when she told me. Anyway, it was a bad tear, and she had to go back 2 days later to get re-stitched because she ripped her stitches out. Ripped out. Just say those words a few times. I think that is the most pleasant thought I've heard all day.

Anyway, I still don't know what I'm going to do about my birth. Do I want to do it naturally? Not really. Do i want an epidural? Not really. Isn't there a good medium? I guess my current plan is to see how bad the pain gets and go from there. Maybe that's foolish of me. It probably is. I've never had a baby before.

Here is my post summed up: My mother is a hippie, My grandfather was a cheating bastard, and I don't want to tear like Lord Voldemort.

P.S. Sometimes I feel guilty that I'm not inviting my mom into the delivery room with me. But then she makes a comment and I don't feel so badly about it anymore. Like last night, we were going grocery shopping and I was talking about how I love to use these little 4 inch plates for my breakfast. I usually have 2 eggs on top of 2 pieces of toast. And I put each one on an individual plate and it's fantastic because I don't have to wash a single thing. And as I'm telling her about how the plates aren't big enough for both my pieces of toast, she says, "Well, have you thought about only having 1 egg and 1 piece of toast?"

While I know that I may not look it, please do try to remember that I am 6 months pregnant. And I don't think that 1 egg and 1 piece of toast will hold me over from 7:30 am to 12:30 pm when I can come home and eat again. I started to say this and my mom is like "oh yeah, one egg wouldn't fill you up". Like it's MY fault I can't be satisfied by one egg and 1 toast for 5 hours! And did I detect a hint of the suggestion that I should somehow TRAIN my 6 month pregnant body to be satisfied with that amount of food? It pissed me off, and I'm still pissed about it. I changed the subject because I didn't want to go off on her in the middle of Macey's. Sometimes my mom just doesn't get it.

Odds and Ends

Just a few tidbits to make you all realize how just absolutely ROCKING my life is:

* I just did a "no cost" refinance of my home. My mortgage broker said it would be free and it would lower my monthly rate nearly $100 bucks a month. Guess how much this "free" refinance costs? $1818.92. Which I don't think we really have right now. I should be fair. I have to pay $1818.92 up front and then I'll get back more than $1300 in a few weeks. So it really IS saving us money this month, but I just have to bring in the initial money to close it tomorrow. THEY ARE VERY LUCKY THAT MARCELO AND I ARE FREAKING RICH AND WE CAN AFFORD THEIR LITTLE "NO COST" FEE OF $1818.92!! They are lucky we use $100 bills to wipe our butts every night. I'll just grab a few of those next time I'm by the toilet.

* Marcelo is OBSESSED with the elections. This also happened 4 years ago right after we were first married when we lived in that horrible little apartment in the ghetto of Provo. He would watch the presidential debates (sometimes on the Spanish channel becuase his English wasn't so good at that point) and he would comment on them continuously, asking me what they were trying to say. He had lived in this country for about 2 months, but he LOVED every minute of it. He's in FULL election mode now. As I type, he's watching and getting excited for "Super Tuesday." I LOVE the fact that he doesn't try to talk about crap that he doesn't know anything about. He just loves to listen and take in the whole experience. I think that his happiest day will be when he gets his citizenship and can vote for himself.

* My dog smells like corn chips when she wakes up in the morning. Like FULL ON smells like Fritos. And not just when she wakes up in the morning. When I come home in the evening she's been in her little cage in our pantry closet and that WHOLE room smells like Frito Pie. (FYI Frito pie is made up of Fritos, a layer of chili and cheese on top. I know you were all wondering) It's not a good smell. Sometimes Marcelo will wake up really early at go to the gym at like 4 am and then come home and walk in our bedroom and immediately have to leave becuase the Frito smell is over powering. We WOULD leave the door open, but she might run down and start pawing through the trash in the middle of the night. (I think that sometimes my pregnancy gas contributes to the horrible smell, but we'll just go on letting Marcelo think it's all the dog)

* I love TiVo. It's like the greatest thing since, well, since TELEVISION. The funny thing about TiVo is that it's like Big Brother. It tracks your watching habits and then records things that it THINKS you will like. The problem is that if you record something ONCE you can never get that memory out of TiVo's mind. It's like a resentful spouse. For example, Marcelo recorded something on QVC the other day. Yes, you read that correctly. QVC. What must've happened is that he was flipping through the list of shows, and he liked the title. He didn't happen to notice that it was flipping QVC. (Well, maybe he DID see that it was QVC, but he didn't know what that meant) Anyway, when I showed it to him (laughing at him in the process, of course) he said that he didn't mean to do it and we recorded it immediately. But TiVo still continues to torment me and record at least one show from QVC every day. CURSE YOU RESENTFUL TIVO MEMORY!

* Marcelo has the best/worst stories from growing up in Ecuador. I'm pretty sure that I've told you the story about how his oldest brother was stolen from the hospital just hours after he was born, right? If not, let me know and I'll retell it the best I can. I know I've told you all about the "worm" that attacked him and almost killed him when he was like 8. Anyway, if given reign over the remote, Marcelo will IMMEDIATELY turn it to the crappy Spanish channels. We used to not be able to watch ANYTHING together because I couldn't stand his shows and he felt the same about mine. Well, that has changed because there are now several shows we can watch together. But that doesn't change the fact that he will go RIGHT to those channels if given the chance.

So last night, that's what he does. He starts watching this show on "Univision" called "Los Cinco Magnificos". I don't get the ENTIRE premise, but from what I understand and from what he tells me (but who knows; he could be BSing me) there are several groups of circus performers and one of the group is a novice who they are teaching. Almost like Dancing With the Stars. But with elephants. And trapeze artists. And leotards with sequins where men's packages are VERY well displayed. Anyway, all of a sudden Marcelo starts to tell me about how he used to take care of the animals when the circus would come to town.

You should know that I am pretty gullible. But when Marcelo tells me something and I want to make sure that he's not lying to me, I say "jurame" which means "Swear to me." If he answers "te prometo" I will repeat "jurame." If he STILL won't "Jurar" then I know he's trying to BS me.
But he didn't do it this time. I didn't even have to ask him if he was being honest: you could SEE it in his eyes. He said that he was 9 or 10 when the circus came to town, and one of the workers asked him if he wanted to make a little money for the week. He was in charge of getting a hold of all the food the animals would need while they were there. Straw and hay for the elephants; raw chicken for the lions and tigers and so on. He said he got to help feed them every day, he got to ride the elephant and he even got some free tickets to the show. (He said they were really good seats, and he actually sold one of them for even more money. That's my boy) He was all excited talking to me about it and I could just see the excitement in his eyes to remember it. Good times in Ecuador.

I wish I would've known him when he was that age. I bet he was fun to hang out with. I will just say it again: I think Marcelo had the craziest, saddest, happiest, best, worst and greatest childhood ever. I hope that our kids have HALF the experiences (the good experiences that is) that Marcelo has had.

*Last item. Marcelo commented today on how he's sad that his family is missing out on all the big experiences in his life. No one was here for our marriage, and now no one will be here for the birth of our first child. It really made him sad to verbalize that. I think that no matter what, we HAVE to get his mother here for the birth of at least ONE of our kids. My mother in law is awesome (I think. I don't really know her that well. But what I know of her is awesome) But guys aren't supposed to miss their families. And to know that Marcelo was lamenting that loss, that thought made me a sad panda.

Here's to Super Tuesday!!

Rolly Polley-Oh No-y!!

As anyone who has slept with me will tell you(And I'm sure MANY of you fall into that category, right?), I am a roller when I sleep. In the immortal words of Derek Zoolander: I'm not an ambi-turner. I don't turn left when I roll. Always to the right and ALWAYS taking the blankets with me.

This always results in both of us awakening in the morning with the blankets decidedly on my side and Marcelo freezing his little nuts off with only the sheet to keep him warm. However, for the past 2 months, this has changed. At night I'll start on my right side, and then maybe try to roll to the right and lay on my stomach before I go to bed. But it's not a smooth roll now. I have to make sure that my belly and boobs aren't trapped underneath me. But I'll always go back (turning to the left now! YES, Believe it!) and fall asleep on my right side. Where before I would make a continuous circle to the right and then end up on my right side again, this no longer happens.

Well, I JUST figured out why. Last night was especially bad. We went to bed at 10 pm, and I woke up at 12, 1:30, 3, 5:30 and finally for good at 7. Most of the time I woke up becuase I had to pee, but twice I woke up because I was FREEZING. I somehow had clung to the sheet on top of me, but the two blankets on our bed were nowhere to be found. I now know EXACTLY how Marcelo feels.

It was at my 5:30 wakening when I pulled the blankets from off Marcelo, bundled up and tried to turn over on my stomach. Well, seeing is how I was half asleep, I didn't plan my turn all the way through. I rolled to the right and I almost died. My belly and baby got trapped on the left side of my body while the rest of my body went right. THE PAIN!!! The most excruciating pain stabbed my belly and let me know that neither my body NOR my baby were happy with the decision I made. I had to roll back on my side and breathe through the pain for about 30 seconds.

And then I realized that I'm no longer turning all the way around in bed at night. I start on my side, roll to my back and push the covers to Marcelo's side. Then back on my side, but this time I don't take the blankets with me. Repeat over and over again. This explains why I keep waking up freezing MY nuts off, and why I no longer keep rolling around all the way. It's like my body instinctively knows what it can't do and when I try to override that instinct, it punishes me. AS WELL IT SHOULD!! It seems my instinct is the only thing that's keeping my baby safe.

Anyway, another funny story from last night: When I got up at 3 to go pee, I was sitting there and I heard Marcelo get up. I finished, then he went pee and climbed back in bed. He laid on his back, and I was on my left side curled up next to him. He goes "UGH! YOUR BREATH. Turn over!" and I was pissed!! and I was like "YOU TURN OVER!" And then I realized that he wanted to snuggle with me! I will turn over to snuggle ANY DAY. So I flipped onto my right side and he spooned right up against me with his hand on my belly.

If any of you haven't had a chance to sleep like that in a while. I HIGHLY recommend it. My only regret is that I didn't stay awake longer and enjoy it. I literally fell asleep in 20 seconds. BOOO! Who knows where spooning could've led. . .

Finally, I would like to say that I am thankful I haven't had anyone come over to my house for well over 6 weeks now. Wanna know why? Because my Christmas tree is still up!! Yup, that's what laziness, no children and a separate living room will do for you. I know that lots of you had to take down your tree or face the possibility of your kids eating the ornaments. But I don't have kids yet, and my dog is very well behaved. I think she's actually kind of a afraid of the tree, seeing is how if you get too close it will poke you. And I come in the back door, so I don't see it every day until I go up to bed. And by that time, I'm not going to take it down. I'm on my way to bed, pues!

Anyway, please continue to not come to my house. At least until I take down my tree. And who knows when that will be at this rate. Anyone want to make a bet?

Oh, one other fun pregnancy yet somewhat inappropriate story. When I woke up at 5:30, before I went to the bathroom, I realized that I couldn't breathe. I sucked in through my nose sharply and felt a nice, dry, BIG crusty booger hit the back of my throat. I immediately coughed and SWALLOWED it. In good news I could instantly breathe, but in bad news, I can now be considered a booger eater. Officially I eat my nose jewels. FANTASTIC. Let's pass that info around, shall we?

Another Ultrasound

I had to go in for a second ultrasound yesterday. When I went in for my first one 4 weeks ago, they couldn't see the heart very well. The doctor said that she wanted me to come back again so they could see the heart clearer.

I was excited because that meant more pictures. (Well, not all the way excited becuase it would mean making up another excuse to get out of work.) But I was excited to see the baby again. I was excited to see that it had grown. 4 weeks ago it was less than a pound. I think they said it was like 12 oz. But yesterday they told me it was 1 pound 7 oz. That's it? They why have I put on 40 pounds. CRAP. Anyway, that weight is right on track for where it should be at 24/25 weeks.

BUUUUUUUUUUUT there was a problem! They couldn't see the baby's face. They poked at me for about 3 minutes trying to get it to rotate and face the camera. But my little gusano was perfectly happy to stay nestled with its head facing my kidney in the back. I thought that maybe they were just trying to get a face shot so that we had another good photo. Like maybe they were doing it for MY benefit. I mean, the first set of photos had a nice profile view, so I thought they just wanted a better one of those for me. I should've known better given the surly attitude of the tech.

When the doctor came in to review the pictures, she told me that the heart looked good, and strong I was happy that I wouldn't have to come back again. BUT THEN SHE SAID SHE WANTED ME TO COME BACK AGAIN IN 8 WEEKS!!! WHAT THE WHAT?!?! She said they wanted to check the growth and some other things. I didn't question her, because, well, she's a doctor.

But then Reagan asked me how it went, and when I told her that the lady wants me to come back again, she said, "A THIRD one? Usually you only have one! Did they say why?" And then I felt dumb for not asking more questions about why I should come back again. Reagan suggested I ask her sister in law, who is an X-ray tech too. I thought that was a good idea

I called her on the way home, and she said that I shouldn't be worried. She said there is a list of things they have to see on the baby, and if they can't see them, then they ask you to come back again. She thought that maybe they wanted me to come back because they couldn't see the face and hence they couldn't see if the baby had a cleft palate or some other deformity. That made me feel better and yet nervous at the same time. Well, no use in getting worried just yet.

So here are the three pictures I got from yesterday. The only one that rocks is the first one. It's obviously a foot. (Well, mostly it's obvious because she wrote "FOOT" on it) The others I think they are pretty crappy. Like I said, tThe tech who took them was kind of a dill hole. Whatever.















A good example of her dill hole-ness is obvious in this next photo.


What is that? What was she thinking? I think she was pissed at me that I asked her for two sets of photos. Anyway, she gives me this horrible shot that she doesn't even label or tell me what it's *supposed* to be. A foot? The heart? My cervix? Who knows!! Thanks dill-hole X-ray tech!

Maybe she gave me a shot of the kid's crotch because she knew that I didn't want to know the sex. Like she did it just to piss me off. I wouldn't put it past her. Did I mention she was pretty much a horrible person? Yeah, I think that idea was pretty accurately conveyed.

Well, at least the third ultrasound gives me a chance for one more set of pictures, right? But it will mean making up another excuse. Well, maybe not. My job might know by then. We'll see. I might not be able to make it till then. But who knows. I really just look BIG. Not pregnant, just big.

Oh, that makes me remember. Will some of you ladies that have previously been pregnant tell my husband that while my face IS fat right now, it's just water? I tried to tell him that, I BEGGED him to believe me, but he's never seen a pregnant lady up close (let alone lived with one) so he just thinks it's fat. IT'S NOT FAT!!! I PROMISE!! (Well, maybe some of it is) I just need someone to tell him the truth. I think that I'm going to have my doctor tell him the next time I have an appt.

Let's see how he handles the truth, baby! Have a good Saturday everyone!