What's in YOUR wallet?

For a crummy start, the weekend ended up being fabulous. The crummy start? On Friday, I had a miserable morning. After much planning, the work trip to Seattle I am supposed to be going on NEXT WEEK, may or may not be happening. I may or may not find out today, if we are going next week, the week after, OR the week after that. I also get to schedule TWO doctor's appointments for the same time period and I guess, oh, just cross my fingers I get to attend. Health be damned when you work for Big Al, I suppose. Anyway, after that sort of morning, I decided I needed to treat myself to a nice lunch. I went to Californo’s in Westport and had a lovely meal – I ate outside under their covered patio and it was raining pretty hard. I LOVE rain, so this was a special treat for me. Afterwards, I went to Murray’s Ice Cream for the obvious (read: frozen dairy dessert) So, imagine the proverbial scene of a pregnant chick sitting on a bench on a nice Friday afternoon eating her creamy treat. As I was enjoying said treat, a car comes to a screeching halt in front of me. A guy gets out and runs right past me and then leaps 4-5 stairs at a time all the way down a very long staircase near me (it freaked me out at first because I was sure he was going to break his neck). Then, his buddy, the driver, follows suit. THEN, two police officers come tearing past me. I could have tripped all these guys; they were passing so closely to me! Then it dawned on me – the two guys running by were actually running AWAY from the police officers. I got up from the bench, threw my ice cream in the trash and resisted the urge to totally hurl in the trash can as well. I went to my car to get the hell out of the area but THE POLICE CRUISER WAS PARKED BEHIND ME. I was blocked. The cops did manage to catch one of the guys and dragged him back – all in all, I was stuck there for 45 minutes just waiting for my car to be free. Yikes.

Luckily, the rest of the weekend was great. Our friends from Boston, S and A, were in town. They had never been to Kansas City before, so it was fun to show them around and prove that many of us here have normal-colored necks and that no, we do not have cows running in the streets (not normally, anyway). We went to Lawrence on Saturday – had a nice meal and drove them through the University of Kansas campus. Sunday, we drove them around Kansas City. Basically, it was a nice, relaxing weekend of eating good food and hanging out with a fun couple.

Funny – last week I was suffering from incredible indigestion and had to scramble to buy some TUMS. I usually have an iron stomach, so this quite distressing but I chalked it up to the Little Freeloader. However, by Saturday evening, I was back to my usual self. Of course, whatever relaxing benefits I gained from the weekend were quickly wiped out by 10AM today and I suspect I may be scrambling for those TUMS again. Still, I am relieved that it seems work-related – this kid better get used to curries NOW.

So, how did it go?

My meeting with the Not So “Super”visor went FINE. I totally over-reacted. In my defense, the atmosphere around here has such an aura of Gossip and Innuendo that everyone is a bit paranoid, to say the least. I have offices all over the country calling me to get the scoop on the Big Burper (Read: they haven’t sent US an email, but apparently other offices had no qualms about announcing her departure) Anyway, I am glad my freak-out was “much ado about nothing”, rather than “much ado about SOMEthing”. I think wigging out was good for me since I went into the meeting completely prepared with action items and things I have accomplished in case she tried to skewer me.

Anyway………….. So, last night, my sister gave me a firm reprimand on my reference to this creature inside of me as “the kid”. She thinks I should say “the baby” instead. Seinfeld notwithstanding, the term “the baby” annoys me for some reason. My grandma refers to one of my 4 year-old cousins as “the baby” – could that be the reason for my irritation? Besides, what’s wrong with “the kid”?*

In part, my sister’s attitude probably lies in the fact that she approaches this stuff in a dreamy state complete with the clouds clearing and the angels on high singing.** While I think this stuff is very cool, I am well aware that it is the result of years of evolution – it’s BIOLOGY.*** Yes, it is kick-ass but I am one of millions doing it.**** Wanna try miracles? How about my friend that went through miles of red tape with 2 different governments, had strangers scouring her house for potential Danger, forked over tons of $$$, THEN hopped on a plane TWICE to travel thousands of miles to meet her child. A son who couldn’t be more perfect or suited for her and her husband had they given birth to him. A son who, from the beginning, is so like them in personality that it is downright scary. Um, THAT’S a miracle in my books.

So, while saying “the kid” may rub others the wrong way, I will continue to do so knowing that I love ”this kid” more than anything else in the world (well, just after X, that is) all while fervently hoping that I raise “a kid” with half the sense of humor that my dad instilled in me.

And if the angels on high do come calling in October? That’s fine, too!! I enjoy a good chorus line.

*While hamster comments are always welcome, please leave out the baby goat ones. Thanks, The Management.

** She even tried to convince me once that changing Older Nephew’s poopy diaper was a great way to bond. Nice try, sistah.

***Yes, yes, YES, I believe in God, but really, don’t you think he could have created evolution and biology? He’s GOD, for goodness sake!

**** AND I am doing it in a 1st world country with 1st rate healthcare while married to a 1st rate husband. I may be cynical, but never, ever accuse me of being ungrateful or I shall have to hunt you down.

Anyone know?

I have done a bit of research on my legal rights in the working place while I am pregnant. Unfortunately, there is nothing there about what to do when your manager is a complete and utter bitch. Now, she has requested a meeting with me tomorrow. When I went to her office to ask what it would be concerning (oh, I don’t know, so maybe I could be PREPARED), she replied that she “just wanted to check in with me”. Basically, this gal is a master of sneak attacks. She will save all your indiscretions for weeks, then lay ‘em all on you at once.

What makes me feel terrible is that the Freeloader has been moving A LOT these past few days. I mean, the kid generally kicks around a bit after orange juice or a workout, but I can’t help but feel awful that now the little critter is flailing about because of all the adrenaline rushing through my body. I feel sick to my stomach from all the stress* and then it just makes me feel even worse to feel the kid kicking about as if to say “Hey! Yo! What’s going on out there?”.

I fear my manager wants to confront me about the fact that I will be leaving after the kid arrives. I don’t think she can do that. Does anyone know? I have been towing the party line of working til October, coming back after that. I guess I could lie, but I still think it sucks that I even need to do THAT.

*Keep in mind that there still has been no announcement that the Big Burper had burped her last. We have people traipsing by all day long asking “Where is she? Did she get fired? What happened?”

Can you keep a secret?

There was a time when X would go out of town and I would cherish those days alone on my Husband Vacation. Now, his trips are so frequent that I fear I am starting to suffer a little bit of ADD because I am certainly feeling disordered due to the deficit of attention from the spouse these days. I am nearing the point where I may damn well throw his socks all over the place MYSELF just to keep from missing him. I haven’t complained too much because he has been working his tail off these days and is exhausted – the last thing he needs is to feel bad about it since it’s not his fault. Still I miss him. And yes, I am fully aware this is a GOOD thing.

People are dropping like flies around here and per usual, Big Al hides his head like an ostrich. Since I am in information security, I get the request to delete the person’s access. Imagine my surprise how often I am getting these requests AFTER the person leaves. It would be nice to have a little notice AND it would be nice to be able to say GOODBYE to the person leaving. When I give MY notice cough, cough you can be sure I will sending out my own little "announcement". Speaking of my impending departure – there are better kept secrets in Hollywood (Tom loves Katie? Tara Reid likes to drink? JLo’s butt is the size of Marc’s ego?) In fact, just yesterday Really Cool Gal told me that she let my boss know I wouldn’t be coming back after the baby is born in October. Hmmmmmm First, Really Cool Gal, you have just been downgraded to Really Tepid Gal and second, try July. Yeah, you heard me. I won’t be coming back after that little known holiday aptly named INDEPENDENCE Day and damn straight – you won’t know this until I give my notice to HR. That’s what I get for trying to be honest with her – the ONE person I thought I could trust here. Sigh.

I was feeling conflicted about quitting early. I mean, it does seem excessive to have 3 whole kid-free months. However, this conflict was easily resolved after yesterday and merely cemented further after this morning. Besides, when X and I first discussed my leaving so early, I came up with a “project plan” of sorts for all the things that I could work on over the summer (this was to justify to MYSELF as to why I should quit. X doesn't care one way or another.) Believe you me, toting my great-aunt P to do her shopping sounds MIGHTY appealing just about now. I’d rather be cruising around in the hot sun with an 84 year old than be in this joint.

How bad?

Last week was a little crazy – I had training and then took Friday off to prepare for the wedding over the weekend. This morning when I came to work, I noticed something was amiss as I passed the Big Burper’s cube this morning. The Toucan Sam piñata was missing and it appeared the kennel of Beanie Babies had either run away or been euthanized. The betta fish were gone and the jungle of plants had been reduced to a few piddly stalks of greenery. Folks, the Big Burper was GONE. A mysterious fart-free atmosphere has descended upon Big Al’s Kansas City lair. After tracking down my Really Cool Co-Worker (the only Cool one in existence here), I learned that the Big Burper had come in on Friday and gave her notice for 5:00 PM that day. Evil Manager told her to go ahead and make it 9:00 AM. Yikes. I almost feel sorry for the Evil Manager, but decided I would feel sorry for myself MORE because guess who gets to pick up the slack NOW? Yep – the two people left who already had enough on their plates. Eek. I need to get to work on that Exit Strategy STAT. The first few steps are complete (Step 1: Conception, Step 2: Make it to the 2nd Trimester, Step 3: Sell Rental Property) and it is nearing completion, but DAMN - this place is coming apart at the seams. As per usual, no word or mention of the fact that someone is GONE. Lord Almighty, these people are more repressed than the entire cast of characters in The Corrections put together.

So this weekend was absolutely exhausting, but the wedding was beautiful. My friend S. looked absolutely stunning in her dress! It was a very nice wedding and I was honored to be a part of it. She and I have been through a lot these past 10+ years and it was great to see her marrying such a very cool guy who is just completely bonkers over her.

Since when is cynical a bad thing?

I was telling my sister the other day that I was tired of screening the same old boring pregnancy questions over and over at work and other social gatherings with people that I don’t know very well (note: it’s different with friends and family, for whatever reason). She claimed that I was cynical. The nerve! Just think how much more interesting life would be if we could push back all the bull$hit and say what we REALLY wanted to say..........

Question: Did I hear you are pregnant?
Answer: Yes! (gushing)
Fantasy Answer: No. Why? Do I look pregnant?

Question: How are you feeling?
Answer: Great! (gushing)
Fantasy Answer: I am quickly realizing why everyone claims the 2nd trimester is the “best” one where you feel “great”. It’s easy to say that about a trimester that is bookended by two hellish trimesters. If THIS is good, gee, I can’t WAIT to hit the 3rd one.

Question: Are you excited?
Answer: Yes! (gushing)
Fantasy Answer: No! I wanted new living room furniture and instead I got THIS. (point to mushrooming stomach).

Question: Is your husband excited?
Answer: Yes! (gushing)
Fantasy Answer: What husband?

Question: What are you having?
Answer: We don’t know yet - I haven’t had a sonogram yet. (gushing)
Fantasy Answer: Rosemary’s baby.

Question: Do you want a boy or a girl?
Answer: I don’t care as long as it is healthy. (honestly)
Fantasy Answer: I’m hoping for a kung fu fighting hamster.

Question: Have you picked out a name yet?
Answer: No, we are going to wait and see what the kid is first. (resignedly)
Fantasy Answer: We decided to go with something non-traditional in the form of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics - the Baby Formerly Known as “It”.

Question: Is your husband going to quit traveling when the baby comes?
Answer: No, he doesn’t have a choice when it comes to travel and we like to eat. (resignedly)
Fantasy Answer: Yes. We are going to live off our credit cards for awhile and see how that works. Food, schmood.

Question: You’re going to stay home with the baby? Boy, aren’t you lucky?
Answer: Yes. (humbly)
Fantasy Answer: Well, I guess we were Lucky as we worked our asses off through college and then got good jobs where we worked even more. I guess we were Super Lucky that X got full-ride scholarships for his degrees, because we are feverishly trying to get MY student loans paid off before the kid comes.

Question: Are you going to get a 4 door car?
Answer: No. I am going to see how it works with the 2 door since it is already paid off. It may be inconvenient, but it will be worth not having a car payment. (logically)
Fantasy Answer: The kid can’t ride in the trunk?

Question: Are you going to have drugs when you give birth?
Answer: YES. (emphatically)
Fantasy Answer: YES. You sadist. I had drugs when my wisdom teeth were taken out and I damn well will have drugs for THIS.

Question: Do you have a theme for the nursery?
Answer: No. (emphatically)
Fantasy Answer: We were thinking S&M, but thought the whips and chains would be a little over the top so we decided on just plain Gothic.

Who says 2 inches isn’t enough?

Saturday, I went for Visit 3 of my 6 Visit Great Clips Experiment. I am definitely getting used to the whole concept of “in and out” haircuts. It was great – I was short on time anyway and it was very convenient to swing in, get my hair clipped, and then head out on my way to the other million things to be accomplished that morning. I even had the gal chop 2 inches – and what a difference that made! I have been hitting quite a Feeling Gorgeous Slump and there is something about a new haircut and a new wardrobe (albeit a maternity one) that really helps a girl out. Now, all I need is a pedicure and a new purse – then I am back to being my normal Sexpot self (so sarcastic, so sarcastic…)

This weekend, I was left wondering “what happened to my Sentimentality Bone?” Did Age destroy it? Did Experience? Did Asshole #1 or did Asshole #2? Did my Pollyanna Mother? The mantra of my childhood was the double whammy of my mother telling me “you’re so cynical, just like your father!”, so maybe I come by it honestly – perhaps I never had a Sentimentality Bone.

One of my very good friends is getting married this coming weekend so over the past weekend we threw a bridal shower for her with the theme of Romance. I am so happy for my friend – the guy she is marrying is a very nice guy and I am confident they are going to be very happy. Furthermore, my friend has had a few rough years and she DESERVES this great guy. However, I had a hard time understanding the whole “romance” theme and was very uncomfortable as people were oohing and aahing during the shower – because I just didn’t get it. I don’t mind seeing this stuff on TV, but am awkward with it in real life, I guess. Now, lest you think that X and I are made of stone, we have our “cute moments” but just aren’t prone to dramatic romantic gestures. I really prefer the day-to-day stuff – like when he brings me frozen custard as a surprise, tells me “thank you” when I have picked up his dry cleaning, is patient when I am sick and my favorite – when he tweaks my nose as he is teasing me. When confronted with hearts and roses, I want to turn and run the other way.* In fact, I think I love X more now than I ever could have imagined – he has been a champ these past few months with all the crummy stuff at my job and all the sickness. But, I don’t need romance to remind me of what a sweetie I snagged. So, I just don’t get it.

My feeling like a sourpuss only got worse as the weekend progressed. On Sunday, my youngest sister graduated from high school this past weekend – the nice thing is that the graduation was held at the University of Kansas’ football stadium – my university alma mater. As we sat listening to schmaltzy speech after speech, I couldn’t help but think that I had sat through 4 of my own graduations (junior high school, high school, undergraduate, graduate) and I don’t remember much of anything from any of them other than being very hot in those stupid polyester cap and gowns. The graduation ceremony always seemed to be some sort of hazing for the Next Big Step – could you survive the ceremony without passing out from heat exhaustion?(and later graduations were only exacerbated by the champagne we imbibed as we walked down the hill TO the stadium.) Anyway, my dad and I eagerly kept track of the program to gauge when it would be over and we could escape (SEE? I DO come by it honestly). After the ceremony ended, we joined the hordes and trudged back to our car. As we left the stadium, I stopped to take a picture of one of my very favorite viewpoints of the campus – the memorial for the students that fought in World War I. Oddly enough, I found myself tearing up.

Hmmmm…maybe I am not the Tinman, after all. Whew.

*Jewelry, on the other hand, is considered a “functional item” and is always gratefully accepted without question.

What is happiness?

Playing the piano while a fuzzy orange cat sits on top of it curiously watching the hammers hit the piano wires as another normally shy cat sits at your feet intently watching the pedals go up and down.............

Do you have the need for speed?

I love to speed. There. I said it. I do try to limit my big ole lead foot to highways since I don’t condone zipping through neighborhoods - little kids darting in and out terrify me. I live in a suburb that is on the outer reaches of the Kansas City metro area and I have always commuted to Kansas City, MO for my various jobs over the years. Therefore, I always have ample opportunities to get the speeding bug out of my system. I haven’t had a speeding ticket since 1996; I have done pretty well over the years, I would say. So, on Saturday, as I was headed to Kansas City, MO for a museum outing with my sister, I saw a state trooper ahead on the side of road. As I was congratulating myself OUT LOUD* to my sister for having slowed down well before reaching him, I noticed with a sinking stomach that the flashing lights were in MY rearview mirror. Ouch. And I quickly realized my current proof of insurance was safely ensconced in my file cabinet at home – not in my glove box. Double ouch. The trooper mentions that I was doing 76 in a 60 – he did say, in my own defense, that the speed limit had just dropped (keep in mind this is a 3 lane interstate highway and I certainly wasn’t going any faster than the other cars). I played the Innocent to his Tormentor and replied “Really? Was I going that fast?”. He took his sweet time in his car, all the while I got to sit with my sister calculating the cost of that ticket and impending insurance hike. To her credit, my sister, the Miss Goody 2 Shoes of Driving, did not heckle me.

So, Mr. Trooper comes back to the car. He noted the address and said “You live in XYZ Subdivision, right? Well, I just live one street over from you.”. Gulp. “I’m just going to give you a warning this time.** Be careful in the future.” HUH? The only thing I can think of is that he thought I was some suburban yuppie venturing into the city for a Saturday jaunt – of course he couldn’t have known that I drive that highway EVERY DAY and have done so for the past NINE years. Could it be that my very yuppiness saved my law-breaking ass??

Now, in my history, the only warnings I have ever received from law enforcement were in the small town where I went to high school. The cops there PREFERRED the kids to stay in town, as opposed to going to Kansas City where we were more likely to get into trouble with the Big City Kids. As long as our indiscretions were minor (tires squealing, loitering around Pond Parties), they tended to let us go with a warning. Yes, I have watched many a wine cooler get emptied by a cop, but really they were pretty good guys just looking out for us.

Sooooo, I slowly pulled out into traffic after having received my warning. The adrenaline rush was still coursing through my veins, but I kept my speedometer in check (all you Lead Footers out there KNOW the irresistible pull of adrenaline. Admit it). Anyway, I figure I can go the speed limit for at least a week – maybe two. Then I can relax and let my lead foot do the driving again, right?

*I believe the actual quote was “Am I good or what?”. Groan
** I do need to show proof of insurance at the local courthouse, though. Of course, that is only fair.

How bewitching is this?

Two posts in one day? I could not resist linking to this story about the statue of the witch Samantha from the TV show Bewitched possibly being erected in Salem, Mass. I have driven through Salem a few times, always on my way to Marblehead (a delightful, sleepy coastal town). I have never had the inclination to stop in Salem because it is apparent from the car windows how damn touristy the place is – particularly during October when the traffic jams become downright painful. I love how the townfolk are acting so indignant about the whole thing. The Big Snot inside of me got such a snigger out of this article! Now, if they vote “yes”, will I finally stop in Salem the next time I am passing through? Um, yeah – I’ll be all over THAT piece of kitsch, for sure.

Who needs a brother when you can have a sister?*

I am still feeling very low on my energy levels despite the steak fajitas and spinach salads. I had asked my sister early last week if it was okay to feel so tired and she replied “of course!”. However, she just spent the weekend with me and said “um, that’s not so normal”. So, I called my doctor yesterday and went in for some blood work today. I am sure everything will come back fine, thus securing my status as a Whiner. And you know what? If everything does come back fine, then I will say GREAT! and move on – I’d rather be a hypochondriac than actually sick, right?

The weekend went fine. I did go maternity clothes shopping and THANK GOD, I took my sister. I was ready to leave in a huff after the first fitting room “session”, but knew if I tried to run away my sister would declare ME to be the big baby. So, rather than face her disgust at my lack of patience, I endured 5 more fitting room visits. The result is that I left with a few nice shirts and some pants that actually fit the shorties that serve as my legs. I have to admit that I am slightly embarrassed that my maternity wardrobe is quickly becoming more fashionable than my normal wardrobe. In short, I hate clothes shopping so much that when I do find things that fit, I wear them until they fall apart. The result is that my normal wardrobe is shamefully outdated. I am taking this opportunity to chuck much of it because I figure I will be in the mood to buy NEW clothes after wearing these maternity clothes anyway. I do love buying purses, though. Doesn’t a pregnant chick need a new purse for her burgeoning waist? Hmmm…..

I didn’t do much this weekend other than attend a friend’s son’s birthday party and visit the Kemper Museum of Modern Art with my sister. It was a nice– they have moved things around and brought out pieces from their permanent collection that haven’t been displayed in awhile. While I was sad to see some of the older pieces go away for storage, it was nice to see a new selection. The current exhibit was 3 short films – we only were able to sit through one of them, so I definitely need another trip before the exhibit ends. And finally, a visit to the Kemper isn’t complete without lunch in the fabulous café there. YUM.

Saturday night, my sister and I went to see The Interpreter. It was pretty good! I’d definitely give it a 4 out of 5 sheep rating. Of course, it was melodramatic and silly in parts, but it held my interest despite the somewhat simple, contrived plot (frankly, I think HBO has absolutely spoiled me with their stellar programming - I expect far more from plotlines these days). Regardless, I don’t think it was meant to be an Oscar contender anyway and sometimes, you just need a fun, entertaining movie. I was also impressed that the UN allowed the crew unprecedented access for filming onsite – this certainly lent an air of authenticity.

Sunday, I put together my Summer Reading List. One common theme I hear about motherhood is the “lack of reading time”. I don’t mind giving up/limiting many things – some of my hobbies, going out with friends, TV shows, etc, but the thought of giving up my reading time makes me very sad. I decided to put together a list of books that I must read by October. There is no real rhyme or reason to the list – it is a mix of non-fiction and fiction, fun and serious. I just wanted to have a goal for reading this summer and also to clear out some of the books in my “to be read” bookshelf. I selected 10 books from my shelf, but needed to include some breathing room for book club selections and for library books coming in from my Holds list. I have several plane trips coming this summer (business and pleasure) so I am looking forward to snuggling in with a book on those trips.

*Nothing against brothers, but I am guessing most brothers wouldn’t endure maternity clothes shopping. I know MINE sure wouldn’t!

Should I have had a V8?

Warning: What follows is a very boring post about my eating habits. I’d move along if I were you. Really.

I was so happy and contented last night on the way home. As I was thinking about this state of affairs (aka how happy I was), I realized that my posting yesterday probably reflected anything but that. I began to realize that maybe something is not right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Everything is going so well right now and I really do feel fabulous except that I am TIRED. I have no energy.

Well, I got home last night by 6:30 and ate dinner. By 7:30, I lamented the fact that it was too early to go to bed. X said “Why not? Go to bed!”. So I did – but when I say I am tired, I am not sleepy. So, I went to bed and mustered the patience to watch 2 episodes of CSI sitting patiently on the DVR (yippee!). Afterwards, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Then, it hit me like a bolt - total mental forehead slap. Anemia, perhaps? I pulled out my trusty Pregnancy: Week by Week book and it was very helpful (I haven't invested in many books since the Internet is FREE, but this book has been very good). Anyway, what struck me the most were the statements regarding “shortness of breath” and "fatigue"*. I had just commented to a co-worker last week that I was experiencing weird gasps of breath – particularly in the middle of the night and not necessarily after obvious instances where I have been active – say after having climbed 2 blocks to get to work.

I guess it would make sense that I am a little low on iron – I am not eating beef as I used to. While I can eat chicken now, I am still not crazy about it so overall; I just haven’t been getting as much meat in. Ironically, I have had HUGE cravings for fruit and salads – vitamin C is important for iron absorption. So, I guess I will have to start eating beef again and I can feel my arteries hardening as I type this. Sigh. I figure I will try this whole diet thing for a week before I call the doctor. Of course, I JUST went to the doctor’s early this week, but I had questions for her regarding my business trip later this month so I forgot about the whole “shortness of breath” thing.

Sorry for the boring post, but I feel better for having collected my thoughts and getting this out. I realize now that the tiredness was taking a toll on me emotionally because I was feeling LAZY. I have SO MUCH TO DO right now and the only productive thing I did this week at home was load the dishwasher. If anything I have learned this week it is this: bedrest does not sound appealing.

Anyway, it’s back to beef tacos, I suppose.

*I will just ignore the comment “anemia is common with multiple fetuses”, thank you very much.

What’s your favorite position?

Wow. I’ve got a bunch of nothing for you. Does that mean things aren’t going well? Absolutely not. Life is GREAT right now. I had a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday and the little Freeloader’s heartbeat was a good, strong one at well over 150 BPM. I get a sonogram at 22 weeks so we can find out if this kid is going to be wearing pink or blue because of course, I must force sexual stereotyping on my kid. It just wouldn’t be Kansan of me, otherwise – must conform to that backwards image we are working hard on over here in the Great Plains. Ha.

Anyway, not much has been going on lately. The problem is during the weekdays I am so tired by the time I get home – usually around 6:30-7:00pm – I have little energy to do anything other than eat dinner, get things ready for the next day and then crawl into bed with a good book. At least I am sleeping – I am already a Side Sleeper – how do Back Sleepers and Stomach Sleepers survive their pregnancies? One odd thing these days is that I have little patience for so many of the things I used to love to do. I used to be such a TV junkie and now I don’t have the patience for many of the shows I used to love. I don’t have the patience to sit and knit, either. All I want to do is read. Do I have some sort of pregnancy-induced ADD?

I have hesitated to post anything much lately in hopes that something exciting or blog worthy would happen. But no, I am still stuck with the most pressing issue of my life right now. Maternity clothes. I really resisted posting about this, but I’ve got nothing else for you! Alice is quickly outgrowing her freaking house over here, folks. I mean, when we were thinking of starting a family, I considered all the important stuff - like, oh, acutally giving birth, daycare vs staying home, nursing vs. bottles, etc. But I forgot about the needing AN ENTIRE NEW WARDROBE PART. I HATE clothes shopping anyway (I blame my ex-hippie of a mother) and can’t even imagine the horrors to come. So, on top of having to hunt for petite-length maternity pants fit for Big Al’s scrupulous eye, I also have to somehow find a bridesmaid’s maternity dress that has SLEEVES. Why do fashion designers assume that everyone likes strapped or strapless gowns? I need SLEEVES, people! Anyway, I will be clothes hunting in the next few days, so maybe I will have some entertaining posts to come. Entertaining at my expense, but of course.

Hello, operator? Can I have the number for the SRS?

Not very much of import has happened lately. I had the garage sale on Friday and Saturday – I made about $275 overall, which wasn’t shabby considering how few items I had gathered up for it (I had a HUGE garage sale last year prior to moving). However, I did have DVDs, CDs and some computer-related items so my tally quickly grew. I also really lucked out because my two nearest neighbors had HUGE garage sales. Since their garages AND driveways were jammed packed, people were stopping left and right for THEIR sales, and therefore didn’t mind meandering by my pathetic offering. The only downside to this garage sale was 1) it was freakin’ cold and 2) I did it by myself. In the past, my mother and I have done garage sales together and it is fun to have someone to snicker with while people-watching. There weren’t many surprises this year, but I have to admit at how shocked I was at the number of people who left their kids in the car while perusing. Let me be specific here. I am not against people leaving children briefly in a running car in their own driveways.* It’s an entirely different matter to leave your child in a running car in MY driveway, while you scoot two houses away scouring for bargains.

On Sunday, I went to visit my friend M. who has the most adorable twin girls. Since M. has 2 of everything, she didn’t mind my taking a gander at her pile o’ baby stuff. I walked away with a high chair, the ever-dangerous yet entertaining Johnny-jump up**, a swing, baby gates, bathtub AND a baby wipe warmer. M. gave me the warmer sheepishly and said since she splurged with her own money, I could take hers guilt free. I couldn’t agree more – I would never spend my money on something so silly***, but since M. had already thrown hers out the window – the better for me.

Anyway, that was my weekend. It was sort of my last free one, too. I have something planned on every single Saturday and Sunday until JUNE 19th. No joke. JUNE 19th is my next free day.

*Of course, I am also planning on letting my child have a pacifier (only up to 4 months of age, though) so I guess I am already well on my way to being a Bad Mommy. I also plan to teach him/her about other religions besides our own, the FACTS of Evolution and Gay Marriage. To boot, they will probably be raised on a hearty diet of mercury-laden fish and salmonella-rich chicken. The horrors.

**Another example of my impending future as a Bad Mommy.

***Bad Mommy! No Good Mommy would want to put a cold wipe on her baby’s butt. Bad Mommy!