I’m excited to announce that I’m a new contributing editor at AskPatty.com, an automotive advice site for women. It’s a terrific site, and if you haven’t checked it out before, I recommend that you stop by. I’m honored to be part of an amazing team of women.
Here’s my first post, about Graco’s Car Seat Recall. The next one will come out on Tuesday morning. I hope you’ll take a look.
Well, I’ll actually have something cool and fun and exciting (to me, anyway) to tell you tomorrow. Yay!
And no, I’m not having twins. Nor winning the lottery. Nor quitting my job and moving to Belize. But I do have a “new” husband. Pictures soon. Um, anyway, it’s not any of those things. Wow, I hope it still lives up to the hype.
This is how my day went. I got to work and checked my email. There’s a notice from my CC company that my card is over limit. WTF? It can’t be, I hardly use it. So I go look at the current activity and find almost $3500 in charges to a foreign air company. I don’t physically use this card anymore. It’s set for auto payment for a few bills. I haven’t touched the thing since June. So I don’t know how it got stolen (still have the card). I called to cancel, and they didn’t give me a hassle. But I have to send in a notarized affidavit at some point.
I won’t talk about work stuff but to say that part of it sucked. I think I hate email right now.
At lunch, I guess I wasn’t ready to eat as I threw my pizza halfway across the room. It landed face down, of course.
And when I got home, I wished I hadn’t opened the mail. My car tags are due soon, but I have to go to a test-only station for a smog test this time. My driver’s license is also due for renewal, but I have to go in and get my pic and thumbprint taken. Additionally, the lab didn’t like my glucose test results from last week, so now I have to go in for a THREE HOUR glucose test. And they will take my blood FOUR TIMES during that three hours. Have I mentioned how much I hate getting blood drawn? Oh, and I have to fast for EIGHT hours beforehand. Can you tell I’m a little perturbed at this turn of events?
Hump day, indeed.
pregnancy woes, pregnancy
I think my blog roll is starting to get a bit too long for my front page. And I haven’t even added all of the fabulous women I met at BlogHer. So I think it’s time to relegate it to a page and just link it. I hate to hide it, but I just can’t see keeping such a long list in my side bar. It should be a link that you can follow.
Do you see yourself on the list? If you don’t, e-mail me. If you’re a reader I’m happy to add you to it.
Things are crazy around here, so it’s hard to find time to blog here. However, I’ll do my best to drop in and let you know what’s happening. I’m sure you’re waiting on the edge of your seat.
I now have 11 weeks left (less than). We are nearing the single digit countdown.
I find myself wistfully wishing to hold my son in my arms. I can’t wait to meet him, look into his little eyes (hmmm, will they be blue or brown?). But I shouldn’t rush this home stretch, my third trimester. He’s not ready yet. I’m probably not ready yet.
Am I really ready to get up in the middle of the night when an infant cries? Maybe hubby can get up and bring him to me. Am I ready to hold this little person in my arms, knowing that he relies on me for literally everything? Maybe I need a few more weeks to adjust to that. Am I ready to love him? Hell, yeah. Bring it on.
Lordamighty I am tired today. (Back home that’s pronounced more like “tahr-d”.) Doncha hate it when you have to go back to work just to settle down for more than a moment (i.e. actually sit in one place for more than 5 minutes)? Seems like all we did this weekend was flit from one thing to another. Hubby decided he was just plum wore out and now thinks I’m trying to send him to an early grave. Oh, honey, I still need you for the heavy liftin’. Don’t poop out on me now!
Saturday we went up to the Promenade in Santa Monica and met up with friends (some of them long-lost). We ate a huge meal at Buca di Beppo, and then schlepped our way home quite late. J had to work EARLY the next morning, after working EARLY Saturday morning. And on Sunday we went to an end-of-summer BBQ.
It was a lot of fun, but it does wear you out.
Today, I was quite excited when Buddy (what I call our BabyBoy, because I take him with me everywhere – heh) actually moved off of my bladder for about 1/2 the day. As a trade-off, he’s getting stronger and got me in a tender spot more than once. I’m in week 29, which means there are less than 3 months left. Wow. I am looking forward to meeting this little tyke, whoever he may be.
Let me tell y’all somethin’. I’m from redneck country. To be more specific, I’m from hillbilly country. I grew up in the Ozarks, home of Ma & Pa Kettle, Shepherd of the Hills, the Baldnobbers, a few Hatfields & McCoys, and good ole Branson. I still have a lot of family back in that area. A lot of family.
I never really thought of my neighbors and extended family as unsophisticated or backwards. They just were what they were. Now, they aren’t really backwards. They have ‘lectricity, plumbin’, teevees and even satellites. But things are different there. They’re… simpler. You get by with less, you “make do” with what you have. Sometimes, it includes “gerry-rigging” (not to be confused with jury-rigging) things to get them to work. Duct tape, WD-40 and JB weld are a hillbilly’s essential tools. I’m not kidding. We always had duct tape and WD-40 around. And not just because Dad built houses and actually used duct tape for … ducts.
So while no one I knew actually owned one of these contraptions, I totally know people who would do this. Not any of my family of course. Some of those other families. What I could not believe was that I actually saw this heading into La Jolla. That’s the snooty part of San Diego, y’all. I wonder how far they got before they got a ticket for one thing or another? I’m not sure; hubby & I were too busy laughing. See for yourself:
My office is not at the beach. It’s not even really close. It would take a good 20-30 minutes to walk there. (Even longer for me, right now.)
So why, sir, do you insist on jogging in your speedo? I will repeat: we are not near the beach!
I’m not even sure that stuff should be acceptable AT the beach. I think I’ll go bleach my eyes and brain now.
Remember the stinky lamp incident? We went lamp hunting yesterday, hoping to find a replacement. All day long, J tells me “I love lamp.”
We started off at a lamp store, a local place in the furniture district. They had a couple of reasonably priced items. but nothing that we really liked. (Although J was kindof partial to one that had a lava lamp built in. I don’t think it would be a good idea with cats and a kid around.) Since we had time, we went on to another store in the district.
Oh my word, was that a mistake! An older lady greeted us at the door. You know the old women with tons of makeup, leopard-print clothing, and an ostentatious sense of style? Well, there she was. We should have known by her clothes and jewelry that we wouldn’t find anything suitable. Remember Carol Channing? Cross her with a pug and I think you would have a close resemblance to this woman (no offense to Carol Channing, really).
I’m having one of those “meh” pregnancy days. I’m achy, tired, irritable. It’s hot and muggy; we have no air conditioning at our place; there is no breeze to speak of. Our fan is dying: high speed is now a kind of “I might get around to cooling you off” speed. I’m sad and I just want to sit down with a big bowl of ice cream and cry.
I don’t know why I’m having a rough day. Maybe it’s stress. Maybe it’s just hormones. I don’t know. But right now, I keep thinking that 3 months sure sounds like an eternity at this point. If I say 12 weeks, will that make it less intimidating?
BTW, my due date is exactly 3 months from today – not that baby boy will really care to adhere to that. Do they ever?
Don’t get me wrong. I already love this kid and would do anything to protect him. I am glad we’re having him and look forward to meeting him. I truly do.
Today’s just a rough day. We all have them, I’m sure. I guess I just worry that if I’m uncomfortable and grouchy now, what will it be like in another 2 1/2 months? Good days will come & go, too. I hope.
Go ahead, laugh at me and tell me to wait until I’m 8 1/2 months and then we’ll talk. Go ahead. But while you’re at it, tell me about some of your bad days, too. You did have them, right?
joys of pregnancy pregnancy