We'll take a cup of kindness yet...

It's waaaaay after midnight.

Stinkerbell stayed up a little later than normal - but not till 2007.

The Mighty Hunter stayed up till 10:30, I think. Maybe 11.

I'm still up. Being a geek. And insomniac. Peanut is killing me with this not sleeping crap.

wooooo HOOOOOOOOO PAAAAARTYYYYYYY!!!!

Peanut has wiggled around a lot. I think he had the hiccups earlier. Whatever it was, it made him grab my intestines and squeeze my bladder rhytmically for about 15 minutes. Hopefully, he's through with that. I wish he'd go to sleep in there!

I think Peanut has probably had a wilder night than any of the rest of us.

We're old and sad. If anyone out there who's been lurking around reading this has any suggestions as to how to liven up the lives of the Auburn Family Always without drinking too many "adult silly drinks" or spending what little money we have left after Christmas, I'd appreciate it. Please leave your comment.

PLEASE.

Now about this Auld Lang Syne crap

I used to make such a big deal of making resolutions and even WRITING THEM DOWN SOMEWHERE and telling my mom or best friend. That was back when I was in high school and college and my life was lived for my selfish self.

unlike NOW!

I think I might have even kept one or two of those resolutions.

But those years are LOOOOOOONG gone. I now wish I could figure out how to apply eye makeup like Carmindy on What Not to Wear and how to reach around my HUGELY pregnant belly to trim my own toenails. FORGET polishing them.

Hello??? It's winter! No one sees my toes anyway.

After taking a hiatus from writing and certainly KEEPING any new year's resolutions, I think I'll give it a try. But much like Moreena, I'm gonna prevent the inevitable disappointment in my own failure by crafting my resolutions to a level that I MIGHT actually meet.

-I resolve to give birth.

-I resolve to cry over giving birth.

-I resolve to be a smart aleck to anyone I can, whenever I can.

-I resolve to meet the minimum definitions of my multiple identities: mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend.

-I resolve to try my dangedest to find some kind of humor in my ordinary little life.

-I resolve to sing along with the radio and in the shower and wherever I choose, as loud as I want, making up lyrics as I go, and be convinced that Simon Cowell himself would faint by the vast, raw musical talent that the good Lord lavished upon me.

-I resolve to laugh at inappropriate times. Uncontrollably if possible.

-I resolve to eat gooey, underbaked chocolate chip cookies and drink tall glasses of cold milk with them.

-I resolve to drink orchards of pulp-free orange juice.

-I resolve to blog too much.

-I resolve to email too much.

-I resolve to make both my blog posts and emails entirely too long and wordy and boring.

-I resolve to procrastinate housework and other trivial things like paying bills until I get all panicky about it.

-I resolve to watch more Y&R, What Not to Wear, HGTV, DIY, anything Discovery channel.

-I resolve to love my Mighty Hunter and remember I've got me a keeper.

-I resolve to love my Stinkerbell and remember that she is very special, sweet, precious, wonderful, loving, affectionate, insightful, silly, surprising, smart, pretty, snuggly, soft, friendly, creative, talented,

I can't finish this list. My vocabulary is insufficient.

-I resolve to love Peanut and attempt to survive the sleep deprivation he will bring to our home.

-I resolve to love my Lord and thank Him for the gifts of all kinds He has given us.

-I resolve to leave my comments on other blogs. (wait, I already do that. But YOU don't! COMMENT DANGIT!!!)

-I resolve to park my pimped out, repaired Mamamobile in the garage and be spoiled by the whole event each time.

-I resolve to eat EasyMac with a slice of Velveeta added in.



I think that's a good start.

Over at A Mama's Rant is a contest for stories about the worst Christmas gift ever.

I don't know if my story is the worst one, but it is definitely MY worst one. So here goes...

The Mighty Hunter and I married roughly one week after Hurricane Andrew wiped out Homestead, Fl, and parts of Louisiana. Grand-daddy was (and is still) employed as a claims adjuster/manager for a major insurance company. He specialized in catastrophe claims (ie: hurricanes, large hail storms, large wind storms, etc.) He was immediately sent to the Miami area to work after Andrew but was able to return home for the weekend of our wedding. Thanks A------- Insurance! After the wedding, he returned to Florida to work and also worked a good length of time in Louisiana.

This type of work required him to stay near the catastrophe area for extended periods of time. 6 months was usually the maximum. It was also possible for my late Mother in Law (MIL) to visit him and spend time there.

MIL was one of the most frugal (my nice way of saying CHEAP AS CRAP) people I've ever known. She was famous for it. She was proud of it. She bragged of it. She rubbed it in your face. She felt superior because of it.

But she was also OC and more than a little anal retentive. (12 LARGE, un-opened! tubs of Vaseline is all I have to say.) As The Mighty Hunter and I helped Grand-daddy sort through her things after her death, we discovered her obsession with saving EVERY! SINGLE! FREE! ITEM! SHE'D EVER TOUCHED!!

It was our first Christmas as husband and wife. We were sappy and gross the way we held hands and called each other "sweetie" and "baby". Christmas morning breakfast was/is a big deal in their/our family. We gathered at their house the night before so that we could get up and help cook the traditional artery-clogging meal.

After breakfast, we exchanged gifts. The Mighty Hunter and I were seniors in college (War Eagle!), so naturally we were broke as sticks. So I had cross-stitched (I swear on my life this is the truth!) a towel for MIL and The Mighty Hunter had done something similarly crafty but less needley and more manly for his dad. We had no money to buy gifts, but that didn't stop us from working hard to express our love for our family.

MIL? not so much, I guess.

I cannot tell you what anyone else got for Christmas that year. But MIL gave me one for that will live forever...

A shoe-box FULL of hotel soaps, lotions, shampoos, conditioners, sewing kits, shoe polish kits, etc. Whatever the house-keeper brought into Grand-daddy's hotel room each day was quickly hidden away in MIL's bag so that it would be completely replenished, lest someone call management and I not have a Christmas gift!

gasp!

It was clear that MIL had forgotten that I would be there for Christmas morning. It was NOT the first Christmas morning I had spent there with them. We dated 2 years before this and I had spent BOTH of those with them.

I opened the box and immediately regretted sitting so close to her.

"oh"

"Yea! I loved using these soaps and stuff while staying at the hotel in Miami."

"Yea, I'll bet. mmmmmmmm They smell good too." I tried to be nice, really. I don't think the shock showed TOO much.

"You can use these whenever you and The Mighty Hunter drive back and forth to school and stay here or at your parents' house. You won't have to carry your full-size bottles around with you!"

"Yea. Great idea. I hadn't thought of it that way!"

"Yea. I save all my hotel soaps and stuff for just that reason."

No joke.

I got a shoe-box FULL of free hotel soaps, etc. from my MIL the first year of my marriage to her older son. God rest her soul.

I wonder if she saw us from up in heaven throwing all that crap away after she died.

Vote for your favorite title for this post...

Doctor Doctor, give me the news

or

Give me the REAL 411

or

Surprise Day Surgery

or

What The Mighty Hunter really did instead of hunting today

or suggest your own



About 45 minutes ago, I answered the phone. Caller ID showed the number and city - making me think it was a cell phone - and wasn't a number I recognized.

-Hello?

-Hi, this is Dr. Shukkum (sp? no clue) Can I speak to Mr. Hunter?

-Which Mr Hunter? (thinking that it could be a call for Grand-daddy from one of the urologists following up from his prostate surgery. thoughts racing: is he ok? he's at Dauphin Island, he might have just called them with some questions and they're following up.)

-Mighty Hunter. I did his surgery this morning and wanted to check in on him.

-um um um (stopped IN. MY. TRACKS. THE MIGHTY Hunter - not Grand-daddy. surgery??? thinking that it could be a mistake, wrong phone number or something happened since talked. how do I get this dr to tell me about his patient w/o revealing confidential information on his Mighty Hunter? I spoke to The Mighty Hunter about 3 hrs ago. he was fine then - at the hunting club.)

-Auburn Mighty Hunter (this is obviously not what he really said. The dr said a combination of The Mighty Hunter's and my names.)

-um um (confused, but still concerned. Our phone number is listed under MY NAME, so if for some reason the dr couldn't find the phone in the chart, 411 would give out the number under my name.)

-Mighty's 22 years old...

-OH, no! wrong one. MY Mighty is 37. (beginning to laugh nervously. aware of the tightness in my stomach and chest.)

-I've dialed the wrong number! I'm terribly sorry!

-You're sorry! I'm 8 months pregnant. I talked to him about 5:30 from the hunting club and he was fine. And I think I'm having a contraction!

-Oh, yea. I've heard some of those hunting club stories. haha

-Yea. Hunting clubs! Now seriously, I think I'm having a contraction. And I'm not kidding about being 8 months pregnant.

-um um (his turn to stutter. It's only fair!)

-We'll have a good laugh about this later.

-Yes, ma'am, we will. You have a happy New Year. I hope your water hasn't broken.

-Nope no water. But I feel pretty sure this is a contraction. I now have to hang up and call my husband and find out what kind of surgery he had today. Happy New Year to you too!



So... I immediately call The Mighty Hunter.

-Where are you?

-The hunting club.

-What have you done today?

-Not a lot. I hunted. We talked about this already. Remember?

-Are you OK?

-Yea, I'm fine. What's wrong?

-What kind of surgery did you have - cause I just talked to your doctor.

-Surgery? What are you talking about?

So, I replay the conversation to The Mighty Hunter and we laugh.

And his answer to the kind of surgery question?

...
...
...
...

__________ enlargement. 5 letters. Starts with "p".

My response?

You should have a nice, peaceful recovery with this pregnancy and all.

I do love my Mighty Hunter.

And he loves me.






The contraction passed quietly. Peanut is very active again.

I should get the clothes out of the dryer now. And try to get some sleep.

Now that I think about it. This was the second wrong phone number. But the first one was just Papa John's Pizza and they KNEW they had the wrong number.

What does this say about the accuracy of phone numbers in our medical industry and pizza places?

What I've been doing today - when I wasn't taking down the Christmas decorations...

Car seat research...

http://www.carseatdata.org/ a site that has a database w/search capabilities for checking compatibilities of car seats and particular vehicles. No not every car seat works in every car.

http://messageboards.ivillage.com/iv-ppcarseats ivillage forum where car seats are discussed

http://www.car-safety.org/ site with forums and other info about car seats

http://www.elitecarseats.com/home.jsp on online vendor with user reviews and seemingly thorough range of choices

http://babyproducts.about.com/od/carseats/Baby_Car_Seats_and_Car_Seat_Safety.htm a list of the above sites plus a few more that I haven't explored yet.

I also finished the invitations for Stinkerbell's birthday party at Club Libby Lu. I bought a pack of sticky pink, purple and clear sticky "jewels" in the scrapbook section at Wal-mart. I let her stick a few on each invitation. I also bought a pack of pretty card stock (different shades of pink and purple mostly). I sat and worked on how to make my own envelope out of the card stock. I finally figured it out - my grandmother would be proud - and trimmed the pretty paper down to fit the card perfectly (pretty much) and fold over to be the envelope. Now we'll find some cool, diva-like stickers to seal the envelopes.

Stinkerbell loves the invitations, the shiny jewels and the custom-made envelopes in matching colors.

I've played with the idea of designing and producing invitations for a home-based business. I've done invitations for birthday parties for free for friends from church (part of my birthday gift). If I ever do this type of invitation with the jewels and custom envelope, it won't be free or part of my gift. These are worth a little bit of money to me.

If I can find my camera, I'll take pictures. If not, I'll have to find a way to get the digital pics I took with our camcorder onto my puter and then I'll share them.

I should be asleep. I'm sleepy, but I probably won't be able to fall asleep for a while right now. I'm cranked up at the moment.

Stinkerbell's birthday party invitation.

Yes, I did it on my puter - Old Bess.

I've wasted the whole day on it.

How sad.

I should have taken down the Christmas tree, etc.

But I didn't.

I DID wash 2 loads of clothes.

I didn't fold them and put them away - YET.

I didn't cook supper. Our fridge is full of left-overs that I don't want. I want parmesan-garlic tossed boneless wings and fried from here. Troy Aikman knows his wings. lemmetellya

I did sit around in the living room while the plumber fixed my kitchen sink.

I did leave another message for and then talk to the oven/stove repairman. He's coming tomorrow to fix my oven which just can't get my chocolate chip cookies right and my stove eye that won't heat up half the time.

So, much like the squirrels looking for the rare acorns, I'm storing up energy for the trip with 5 girls (aged 5-9) to go to Club Libby Lu with one other parent in a few weeks. God help me.

I should now unload the VERY FULL dishwasher and clean off the bar where we ate lunch.

The Mighty Hunter is going out of town tomorrow and will return Saturday. He has a case of cabin fever I think. He has not wanted to hunt very much this year. Usually he spends every possible weekend in the woods - will even get up early in the morning to hunt for an hour or 2 before going to the office. Not this year though. He's just not as interested for some reason. I suspect that it's concern for me and my constant pg aches and pains.

I start weekly ob checks next Tuesday. yippee. I think there might have been a little too much enthusiasm in that "yippee." Once a week, I will get checked for dilation.

Anyone want to put on a mask and big wiggly belly and pretend to be me for a few minutes those days? I'll buy your lunch here. Wing Stop only serves lunch on Fridays here.

I suppose we should get our bassinet put together and wash those cute little blue baby sleepers.

I did register for baby gifts at Target and Wal-Mart and K-mart.

I'm making forward progress on something!

Anyone want to follow us to Club Libby Lu and laugh your head off at 5 little girls getting their hair twisted up into "Tween Idol" styles and putting on sparkly nail polish and pink eye shadow and then having a dance party? The effect it has on the girls is funny

amazing

sweet

and guaranteed to produce Diva behavior.

I'm gonna pry my butt up out of this recliner now.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhh

Well, maybe in a minute.

Butterscotch is a pyromaniac.

She is in our living room. She's too big for me to carry upstairs to Stinkerbell's room. I can easily slide her around and lift her for a short move. But I just don't want to carry her upstair. My hips and back and belly hurt too much.

Well, she has been placed in a prime position where Stinkerbell can sit on her and watch tv and play her guitar/ukulele. This position is in front of our gas fireplace. Which is fine, she's far enough away to not get too hot and catch on fire.

But she seems to notice when the fireplace lights up. (It's one of those w/a thermostat and turns itself off and on automatically.)

foof. flames. Butterscotch turns her head toward the fire.

I wonder what's going on inside her robotronic horse head. She has these long blond eyelashes that are very reminiscent of an old man's eyebrown. And she's constantly looking around the room as if to find something to chew on or somewhere to poop.

And a little something relating to yesterday's post...























Today, we plan on beginning the removal of all things Christmas. I'm now ready to plan Stinkerbell's birthday party and prepare for Peanut's arrival.

5 weeks and counting.

tick

tock

tick

tock

Ode to Pregnancy
Movement One - Complaints, Whines and Irritations
"Remind me again WHY I got pregnant"



Cutting my toe nails.

Tying shoes.

Pulling up socks.

Bending over and straightening up again.

Saggy pants.

Saggy pants that pull down my sad underwear.

Sitting on any surface other than a couch, recliner or bed.

Groin pain. ("What the heck????")

Left hip occasionally not wanting to work.

Gas.

Needing to relieve gas.

Wishing I hadn't relieved my gas.

Hiding because gas relieved itself without warning.

"No, I don't sthmell that. My nosthe is sthopped up. sthorry."

What foods causes gas?

If I stop eating, and got a feeding tube inserted directly into my stomach (now residing in my ribcage), I'd still have gas.

Needing to be burped by my husband - bless his heart.

What is Peanut DOING? Rolling around inside me like he's trying to get away from something!

Falling asleep in the middle of a blog post.

Wishing I could fall asleep when I lie down in bed.

Groin pain.

Not slapping the next person who lies to me and says "You look so cute!" "You don't look like you're 3 mos!" "You're all belly! You've hardly gained an ounce!"

30 pounds times 16 ounces/lb = 480 ounces!!!!

Not feeling cute in any way whatsoever.

Feeling like a deformed Brahma bull










Getting the sick pleasure of telling a time-share sales guy that I'm NOT pg, I'm fat! (I've been waiting for that one!)

Needing a nap within an hour of waking in the morning.

Swelling.

Feet going to sleep for no apparent reason.

Groin pain.

Wishing I had My Friend Rachel closer to home (home = ME) so that we could be big pg together. "Hey, Rach! Minnesota sucks!"

Not feeling like doing ANYTHING!!!

Strange belly distortions and bulges and wiggles and jiggles and jumps.

Playing "Name that lump."

Marge-Simpson-overbite-looking outie belly button.

Groin pain.

Constipation.

Diarrhea.

Diarrhea starting before the relief of constipation.

ouch.

Gut bomb meals.

Groin pain.

Not being able to full-on hug The Mighty Hunter and Stinkerbell like I used to.

Not being able to carry Stinkerbell in my arms (she's a really tall 5 y-o).

Not knowing that I will be able to enjoy Stinkerbell's 6th birthday to the fullest.

Wishing I could give more of myself to Stinkerbell instead of falling asleep on the couch while sitting next to her wiggly self, watching tv.

Not sleeping the night through.

Living in a state where I lack that sense of control that I've protected so long.

Groin pain.

Santa's the Man.

On Christmas Eve, I asked Stinkerbell to sing a few carols while I recorded her. She agreed and sang "Jingle bells", "Silent Night", "Away in a manger" and "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas". She did her rock-star diva voice and put some real SOUL into her version of each song.

While singing the Hippo song, she heard some bells jingle and a "HO HO HO!!!" come from outside the front door. She stopped mid-"hippo" and listened very carefully.

HO HO HO!!!!

jingle jingle jingle

Her eyes grew bigger than I've EVER seen them. She froze where she was, sitting on the floor.

The Might Hunter brought her around and told her to look out the window and see who was out there. She ran over and didn't see a thing.

He was hiding or using his invisible magic.

She runs upstairs and says "I'VE GOT TO GET IN BED!", but knows she has to have a bath first. So I follow her with the camera and find her in the bathroom, struggling to get her clothes off quickly.

"Hurry up and run the water for my bath! I've got to get in bed!"

So, we do. She gets her bath. I thoroughly love drying her pretty, sandy hair. We giggle and talk about what if Santa heard her Hippo song and thinks she wants a real hippo for Christmas.

"I should write him another note to leave next to his cookies and milk. What should it say? 'No hippo please'"

So she writes him the cutest note and leaves it next to 2 chocolate chip cookies and a wine glass of milk and a candy cane.

"Dear Santa
No hippo please
Thank you
Stinkerbell"

It was a magical night. This morning was wonderful too.

Santa brought her Butterscotch. She loves Butterscotch. I think The Mighty Hunter also likes him/her. Stinkerbell says it's a girl. We've yet to check under her tail.

The other Santa gifts were small and the list was thankfully short.

The Mighty Hunter surprised me with a beautiful cross pendant with chain. I think he said the pendant has almost 3/4 carats of diamonds. I know that's not a lot for some of you out there. But I'm not a big one for REAL jewelry. It was a very thoughtful gift from him.

He got some good brownie points over the gifts he gave me.

But what about things that went wrong?

Well, it just wouldn't be our house if SOMETHING didn't go wrong!!!

I think the thermostat on my oven is on the fritz. Higher temperatures are fine. But when I try to bake something under 400 deg, it doesn't get done on time and the top will get too brown while the inside or bottom stays doughy.

And tonight, I was getting ready to run the dishwasher. The box of detergent was damp on teh bottom.

There was water on the shelf under the sink. The drain line on the left-hand side of my kitchen sink is leaking.

The Mighty Hunter has some great plumbing skills but doesn't stock the supplies to fix this tonight.

So, my dishwasher is full and I can't run it.

I've got to call the plumber that The Mighty Hunter worked with for years and get him to come fix my sink.

I've got to call the appliance repair guy to come and fix my oven.

Is there anyone out there who needs me to arrange to get a repair person out and get the work done?

My sister-in-law set off the house alarm today and the police had to come out to confirm we hadn't been robbed. She was totally embarrassed.

I still haven't found those 2 key-chains I bought earlier this year and put away to keep from losing them.

I now have to find a way to pay for all this.

But it was still a very Merry Christmas.

It was just lovely.

Love Love Lovely

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

Except for the stress

and exhaustion

and endless gift-wrapping

and sore throat and cold and cough

and unbelievable exhaustion - did I say that already?

Well, the Christmas party blitzkrieg began Friday night. The Mighty Hunter's company party kicked off the season. We had dinner at a local restaurant. There were 2 guys with guitars who sang and took our ridiculous requests...

"Hard days night"
"Take this job and shove it"
"Friends in low places"
Redneck woman"
anything Elvis
"You don't have to call me Darlin', darlin'"
"Whiskey river" or is it whiskey road?

We had a great time. We were a little rowdy, some of us were silly. We all laughed and had a good time telling stories on ourselves and each other.

There were no lampshade hats. No one kissed anyone they shouldn't. We're all too old-married folks.

Stinkerbell stayed with my parents while the adults partied. She whined because she wanted to go with us. She has been my shadow since birth and expects to be able to go anywhere I go. My brother's 4 kids were also at my parents' house, so that was an acceptable compromise.

I have ALL my shopping done - except for ONE gift card. Yay for me!!! Did I mention the endless gift-wrapping?

I'm tired. It's 12:13 am. I fell alseep on the couch this afternoon when I should have been wrapping gifts. The Mighty Hunter and Stinkerbell took a really nice nap in the bed. I had intended to clean house, cook and wrap gifts.

Did I mention the endless gift-wrapping?

But I made th mistake of sitting down on the couch and relaxing. Next thing I knew, I had dropped the remote control and wondered why one leg felt so strange. It had gone to sleep - duh. My neck also hurt since my head had drooped over to one side.

I woke up aware of a sore throat early this morning on one of my potty trips. No fever. I began sneezing HARD and the roof of my mouth and my ears are itchy. I'm catching a cold. Great. Do germs not care that the Christmas party blitzkrieg has begun and I simply don't have time to be sick? I mean, Stinkerbell is gonna be an angel tomorrow night. I simply cannot and will NOT miss that. I don't care if I'm puking my toenails up. I will prop myself up, hold a baggie to my mouth and supply my own Lysol spray to see her say her little 4-line poem and be the angel I know she is.

So I'm on antibiotics to fight off secondary bacterial infections. I don't have a great immune system. And the germs know it.

The Mighty Hunter just reminded me that it's late and the I'm not asleep.

I just thought I'd share.

btw... We're making progress on the name negotiations. More later!

Merry Christmas!

32 weeks and 5 days.

51 days left.

God help us all.

I am living in this dream-world where the crib will be magically assembled by Santa's elves and diapers will fly in through the window or down the chimney and the white Christmas we sing about will refer to the baby powder that will be delivered by Santa himself.

This must be the case because I haven't made any of the preparations you might think a VERY pg woman would make.

Well, I have bought a couple of sweet little blue outfits on sale. I have chosen his me-me* blanket. Stinkerbell was given MANY blankets as gifts. She selected 2 nearly identical ones as her favorites. This was very convenient since it allowed me to wash one and still be able to give her one for snuggling.

So, I decided that I would select the me-me blanket for Peanut. We just have to make sure he prefers these sweet little blue ones over anything else that touches his skin.

Oh, yea. We have to choose a name.

The Might Hunter has threatened - err dreamed - of naming a son after his own dad. Now, let me say this first and very clearly. I think his dad is a wonderful person. One of the funniest, goofiest, most lovable men I know. Yes, he's a curmudgeon . There's no denying it. But he is one of my favorite people and would be even if he were not my father-in-law. But he has an unusual name.

Weird and off-the-wall name.

I can't find it anywhere in a single name book anywhere. Google doesn't find it as a name for a person. It is the name of a county in Ireland or Scotland.

I would name Peanut after The Mighty Hunter. His grandfather (well, one of them anyway. the one who cared about other people besides himself.) My grandfather(s).

Here's a list of the names of those men from our family. You pick out the one that belongs to The Mighty Hunter's dad. The rest are real names from either side of our family...

Ralph
Vernon
Ledon
Ira
Napoleon
Chadwick
Rother
Thomas
Lee
Edward



Can you blame me?

There have been a few discussions where The Mighty Hunter's arguments FOR using his dad's name have actually back-fired...

I circled my grand-father's name in the baby name book. This is the grand-father that died when I was a baby, so he didn't know him either - thus the name was unfamiliar to him. So, he says "Ira? Do you really like Ira?"

me: "sure"

him: "why???"

me: "It was my Papa's name."

him: "So what?"

big, dramatic, joyful pause...

me: "exactly!!!"

The other time was a discussion about a boy in Stinkerbell's class - Rufus. Yes, it's his real name. No, it's not a nickname because of his fascination with Ron Stoppable's naked mole rat.

him: "Rufus?!? Who names their kid Rufus?"

me: "he was named after his grandfather"

him: "that's no reason to give a kid a strange name like that."

another big, dramatic, even more joyful pause...

me: "exactly!!!"

...

...

...

So, we're calling in Jimmy Carter and the UN's top negotiators to assist in the name choice mediations.

Expect to hear about the final decision soon on Fox and MSNBC.

And, because I know you are curious how bad my Marge-Simpson-overbite belly button is progressing...

welllllll..

I have uploaded the picture TWICE now and no belly shot to show.

Will put it up at my flickr site.... Sorry!!! http://www.flickr.com/photos/auburngalalways/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/auburngalalways/320659314/

enjoy!!!

Merry Christmas!

Good news. The curmudgeon* will live to grow more curmudgeonly.

Grand-daddy had prostate surgery Wednesday morning. Everything went very well. He chose the Jetson-style surgery.

I told him that he could be glad that this will be my last pregnancy.

When pg w/Stinkerbell, The Mighty Hunter's mother lost her battle with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia in June. Then in October, while still very pregnant, Grand-daddy had 5 coronary bypasses.

He could feel better about his future health conditions since the major crises seem to coincide with my being pregnant.

Stinkerbell was on the phone with my mother, updating her on Grand-daddy's condition Wednesday night.

"He's doing pretty good. He's getting grumpy. So, I guess he's getting back to normal."

*Last Sunday morning, I described Grand-daddy to The Mighty Hunter as a crusty old curmudgeon. This didn't offend The Mighty Hunter at all. 2 reasons: Grand-daddy is a very LOVABLE crusty old curmudgeon. And The Mighty Hunter didn't know the meaning of the word. Which brought on a discussion I thought I'd NEVER have with The Mighty Hunter and that I haven't had since all those valuable communication courses at AU.

The Mighty Hunter tells me that if I'm using words that "no one knows" then I'm not communicating. I agreed. I then asked him what words I used that were not a part of his vocabulary. A vocabulary that I assumed was nearly equal to my own, since we're both college graduates and especially since he graduated from a high school that he considers superior to my own high school alma mater.

"curmudgeon"

I told him that lots of people we know would know that word. Particularly his brother, the one with the masters in divinity. Or is it theology? I mean, he reads constantly. Surely he has at least a basic grasp of the definition.

"I'm sorry, Kay. Both your sons have failed you in their development of an above-average vocabulary. But they're good men - that must count for something. Please stop turning in your grave."

Dumblond, my NOW FORMER co-worker and friend, knew the word. Her friend, Steve, knew it.

Does anyone out there know it? I like this one a little better, I think.

Note: I adore Grand-daddy. He is one of those very special people in my life. Never mind that he is my father-in-law. I would love him even without knowing his son. He knows he's a curmudgeonly person. We don't keep that opinion of him secret. He and I have a special relationship that developed after losing The Mighty Hunter's mom and while he recuperated from his bypass surgery. He and I are able to be very honest with each other and he allows me to hold him accountable for his sneaking a cigarette from time to time but lets me spoil him with chocolate chip cookies and home-made vegetable soup and cornbread. He is a wonderful man, whom his sons (particularly The Mighty Hunter) emulate. I see a lot of him in The Mighty Hunter.

And that's fine with me.

I love my curmudgeons!

Now for those of you who have been lurking without commenting, please let me know that I'm not strange in knowing the meaning of curmudgeon.

Stinkerbell's Fancy Day

Moreena has requested photos of Fancy Day observances.

Here's Stinkerbell's recent Fancy Day photo. I indulged her with a Club Libby Lu make-over recently while doing my Christmas shopping.

It was a nice break from wandering around stores, snapping fingers and threatening her life to keep her close.

And the results???

For the rest of the day, she could be very EASILY found in front of the closest mirror. Posing. Singing loudly into her Libby Lu rock-star, diamond (!!!) headset.

Evoking the wisdom of Linus with his security blanket...


Some of you may see some of these again. But I just HAVE to share this!!!

Stinkerbell drew these yesterday with very little to NO help or direction from her parents. I gave her examples to follow on the manger and stable. I drew the donkey (hiding under Mary and Joseph's "naked feet".) With those exceptions, all you see before you is her original work.

Yes, I'm proud.

Yes, these will be part of our Christmas cards.

Merry Christmas to all! And to all "go night night!"

Well, I went Christmas shopping with Stinkerbell and my mom today. I didn't watch the Single Most Important Football Game in Alabama and, IMHO, the game featuring the most vicious rivalry in the country. But I don't always watch it. Sometimes, but I'm not obsessed with it.

The Mighty Hunter hasn't watched it in years. It always falls on the same weekend as "opening day" of gun season here. He can listen to the game and hunt at the same time. He can't hunt and watch the game at the same time.

A little background:

The game was at tuscaloosa. alabama has never beaten Auburn at tuscaloosa. teehee.

Auburn has beaten alabama the last 4 consecutive years.

Auburn t-shirts say "fear the thumb" - and "alabama's official drink Choke" HAHA!!

Well, I actually didn't see a single second of the game - live. I did record for later viewing and posterity.

Final score

Auburn 22

alabama 15



WAR EAGLE!!!!!!!!!

I love it!


Oh, I got a good bit of my Christmas shopping done. My back decided to break in half after dinner, so we had to quit. Well, that and the stores were closing. Anyway, I'll have to finish again over the next few weeks - OR I'll be shopping online a lot.

Happy Thanksgiving y'all!!!

Let's start with an apology and a caution...

Apology: I'm in a ROTTEN, P'ed OFF mood today. I know that the things I'm thinking and saying are not the things I should say and think. I've had something to happen to spin my mood into almost rage and will explain in a moment.

So PLEASE forgive the attitude toward certain people and the pity party I'm throwing and the potty mouth I'm sporting.

Caution: I'm not a nice pg gal. I realized that with pg #1. My temper has NO fuse. I simply explode. I try to influence it for good and not evil and use it to handle situations that require high levels of assertiveness, attitude, etc. The happy-go-lucky, glowing, excited-about-her-bundle-of-joy attitude is not familiar in our house right now. Sorry! I'm a b!+ch. Deal with it or go away.

Anyway... what has pushed me over the edge?

Well you may recall my post that shared with you the wonderful purchase The Mighty Hunter made for me this summer... I've been in love with the Pimped-out Mom-mobile. It's comfy. It's got lots of bells & whistles that are cool for this gadget-loving girl. It entertains Stinkerbell with the dual head-rest dvd/cd players.

We all love the van. I must confess to having placed more pride in it than I should. Yes, somewhere there's a scripture that tells me not to do that very thing, but I'm guilty.

And now, I'm being taken down a notch - or 2 - over it.

Last night, Stinkerbell and I went to replenish our empty fridge and get some things that I'll need for Thanksgiving pig-outs/meals next week. We also needed to get a birthday gift for our God-son.

Stinkerbell was tired and fell asleep, curled up in the shopping cart. I ran out of room in the little seat and had to find places around her to put some of my groceries. The loaf of bread rested on her hip.

This was one of those grocery shopping trips that took a LOT longer than I had planned and was trying to not get ill over the unreasonable length of it.... Our pastor's wife was there and we talked - I enjoyed the short conversation. I tried to get in touch with our God-son's parents to get suggestions about his gift - no answer, didn't leave a message. Wandered around forgetting things that I needed, back-tracked a couple of times because I didn't have a list and was making things up as I went.

You know. It was just a waste of time and was getting frustrating...

Or it seemed like a waste of time.

As I was about to get the last 2 items on my actual LIST (carrots and bananas), my stupid Cingular cell phone rang (btw Cingular sucks!). It was my God-son's dad. He said that a dinosaur would be great but that he had gotten very excited over a Godzilla toy the night before. Was there a Godzilla at my Wal-mart? Let's go see. This will probably be my last chance to look for one before the party.

So we strolled over and wasted a little more time. My local Wal-mart is safe from attacks from Godzilla. So, we kept the Imaginext dinosaur that roared and was red and yellow and headed to the beloved self-checkout counter.

There was some interesting things happening with the employees while I was scanning my stuff. I overheard one say that she didn't know what happened and they couldn't find anyone. I figured they were trying to find a suspected shoplifter "Code 5-5-55. All associates Code 5-5-55."

I leave Stinkerbell sleeping in the cart and put my bags into another cart and head out the door. Yes, I temporarily forgot where I had parked. I remembered how Stinkerbell and I had ran across the traffic lane to hurry inside and get out of the misty, cold, rainy air and headed toward where I had parked. I didn't have the exact spot memorized. But I knew about how far up the parking aisle my pretty white van was.

Here's the sequence of thoughts that followed...

"Why is that van parked parallel in these angled spots?"

"That van looks like mine."

"That van is mine."

"That van IS mine. What in the world????"



It seems that an older gentleman had cranked his Lincoln Towncar and (here's the good part...) it went into reverse on its own and no matter how he stomped the "brake", it wouldn't stop.

ahem.

ummm, yea, right.

If anyone had been walking across the parking lot, they'd be dead or badly hurt.

If I had been putting the groceries in on the driver's side - like I usually do - my van would have been pushed on top of me - injuring me and Peanut in some very serious ways.

So, my mac-daddy van with its powered lifting rear door and the sonar in the bumper to keep me from backing into stuff and the pretty white paint with some pearlescent sparkly stuff in the paint is all busted up on the back end.

So, my mood is crappy.

My van has some very expensive damage to it. Not to mention the loss of value to it.

An older man should consider letting his wife drive from now on.

I've got to finagle getting my van fixed over the Thanksgiving holiday - yea, right.

I'll have to find a rental car.

I'm just so ill about the whole thing.

sigh.

We have a lot to be thankful for.

But I'm still P'ed Off!!!

If you have some soothing words for me, please leave them in a comment. If you have a good joke or some other way of lightening my mood, PLEASE leave it.

It's just a van. It's a means of transportation. It CAN be fixed.

But I'm still mad.

After these messages, we'll be right back!

I hope you will understand and be patient and continue to check back with me here.

Right now, as much as I love and get pleasure from blogging, I must take a short break.

I'm still working and am feeling much anxiety to finish my projects here and get home to prepare for the impending - and fast approaching - arrival of the SON.

"What could you possibly need to do to?" you ask. After all, it's not my first child. I should have at least a small supply of things still lurking around.

Well, yes, I do.

somewhere

in plastic storage tubs

in the barn

on a high shelf

that's too high for me to reach

and there might be Dust Cooties on the boxes

and I'll probably sneeze

and get my precious pg clothes dirty

and need to wash my hands

and sit down and rest

and watch "What Not to Wear"

and drink some orange juice

...

What was I saying?

...

...

...

Oh yeah.

So, I'll be posting a little less frequently for a little while. I would much RATHER do this than work. That's obvious to anyone who's looking over my shoulder right now.

Here I am, at my desk, "working HARD".

I'll put some pictures up soon from our Veteran's Day trip to the Great Smoky Mountains. We stayed here. No, it hadn't been redecorated in about 25 years, but it was very clean with new carpet and room enough for 3 insane women and 5 wild kids. We ate here (worth the $ without a doubt!!! the whilte chocolate cheesecake and mixed berry cobbler and moonshine chicken are TDF!!!), and here, and here.

And we went here (I'm tired of this place. I'd rather nap. Yes, I'm spoiled. I know it. I've been there several times. Almost every year. Yes, fish are interesting and the moving sidewalk underneath the shark tank is cool. But it doesn't change enough to keep me and my ADHD entertained. Sorry, all you marine biologists wanna-be's.) We also went here and got some yummy candy. And here to visit this guy (he's there year-round, ready to hear your kid's claims of good behavior and requests for the most expensive and unrealistic of gifts - mine wanted a $30 stuffed reindeer "with a pretty red harness and pretty red color with jingle-bells"). And we had a picnic behind there, next to the Little Pigeon River.

And then we drove this pretty little road and then we went to visit our ABSOLUTE FAVORITE PLACE IN THE SMOKIES - no website can do it justice - Cades Cove is a big slice of heaven with chocolate sauce on top.

We also went here and played mini golf for FREE - yes, free with no gimmicks and clean bathrooms!!!

And we saw the beautiful, but early, Christmas lights.

The Smoky Mountains and the towns that have sprung up around it to support the tourist industry are very special. Yes, there are cheesy things about it, just like any tourist area. But it's a safe place, with a low crime rate. The staff of the businesses you visit are regular "folks" like you and their values are similar and they're not afraid of your values. Their faith in the Lord is not a secret and they make you feel comfortable expressing your faith in your way. You can get married up there within 24 hours for less than $300. You can get a tattoo (real or henna) and go to Hard Rock Cafe. You can ride a horse and see whitetail deer, black bears and wild turkeys - maybe even a bobcat! You can buy the drink of your choice or build a fire in your condo with REAL WOOD - cut from the trees surrounding one of our nation's beautiful natural treasures - yikes. You can watch musical shows ranging from Southern Gospel to Elvis to Bluegrass to a kid-friendly hodge podge songs. You can buy obscene t-shirts or have Christmas ornaments personalized with your child or pet's name. You can eat cheap beanee weenees and pbj's or $45+ per plate meals served with linen napkins and cooked by highly skilled chefs. You can reminisce about the beauty and purity and hard work of our heritage and peek into the past at the humble homes they struggled to build for their families. And you can walk your feet off and spend your children's college education on the newest styles in the dizzying variety of outlet stores.

I live within a 3 hour drive of this beautiful, special place and am glad of it. The only problem I've experienced on a regular basis is there's entirely too much Volunteer orange.

So, now that I've given you warning of my upcoming infrequent posts and described my crazy weekend in a beautiful place, I'm ready to click that little orange button.

Have a great November.

And remember.......









WAR EAGLE!!!!!

I'm about to reveal some of the darkest mysteries of the universe...

Well, mysteries of maternity clothes anyway.

When I was pg with Stinkerbell, the styles of clothes were a little different for those of us whose bellies were swelling by the inch daily. Shirts were big and long and blousy. Pants were made with a big elastic pouch-thing that allowed the belly to fill it up.

And the pants didn't need constant hitching up.

Shirts are much more "fitted" now. Maternity and non-maternity tops alike. It wasn't so bad when I was barely showing and my bra size had grown. Now that I'm 6 1/2 months along... Well, let's just say I'm testing the stretch capacity of lycra more every day!

I have bought a couple of different style bellies in the pg pants I've bought and thought it might be interesting to share what I've learned here.

Well, "interesting" might not be the right word. If you aren't interested, then move on. Cuz I'm gonna talk about pg pants belly panels now.

The first pants I bought were jeans from JC Penney. Nothing special. These have a pretty wide elastic band that goes all around your waist and are pretty good about stretching out to fit your gut as it grows.

Here's what I learned about this particular style of belly..

1. The elastic band twists within its little pouch in the washer and dryer and is a pain in the neck! to straighten out again. If you sew, you could stitch it into place. I don't sew very well, so I tried safety pins. They helped a little.

(edit: don't you just love the way I smushed the picture, elongating the pg model's only SLIGHTLY!! bulging belly.)

2. When you get to the point that the elastic band is under a lot of, uhm, stress, you may be less satisfied with this belly style. It may not reach high enough on your belly to stay up on its own, requiring constant attempts to prevent plumber pants.

3. If you wear this style when sitting for an extended period of time, you may become aware of the extra pressure that a 1.5" band of elastic will exert upon a constantly full bladder. You will then agree that this belly style is not ideal for use for the ENTIRE 9 months.

Then there's the belly style of my "bling bling" jeans. I indulged in these at the Motherhood store. These jeans were not my favorites initially. The lycra in them made them stretch just a little more than necessary, which led to much hitching and yanking to keep them where they should be and not sagging around my thighs.

This belly style has a stretchy panel that goes all the way around but only has a narrow strip of elastic at the very top of that band. There is also a drawstring that goes through the band at the same spot as the elastic. This allows for cinching up so that the bling-jeans will stay up where they should be.

I have bought another pair of jeans with the same belly style. I have hopes that I can be content with this style till delivery.

Now you have a share in my extensive wealth of maternity clothes knowledge and experience.

No. No. No. I don't expect anything in return for my selfless gift of this knowledge. I understand the depth of your gratitude. I just want to help others with information that I would appreciate also knowing.

Now, go out and buy some lycra-enhanced maternity jeans and let me know your own preferences.

(edit: I have opinions on underwear too. Panties, to be specific. I purchased my first supply of matenity panties at Sears - no maternity items listed on their website. They've sufficed until I realized that some of the elastic binding at the legs and hip were coming unstitched. While at the Motherhood store, I bought a pack of their panties. I'm much happier with these. The fabric is softer. The elastic binding is a higher quality and is stitched more securely and is kinda pretty.)

Lemon Icebox Pie and home-made Alfredo Sauce.

That is what The Mighty Hunter requested for his birthday dinner. His mom and grandmother (both deceased) made the pie for him every year on his birthday. Birthday CAKES are not a big deal for us - well, they're necessary for Stinkerbell, but not important to us parents. So, in their place, I made him a fresh Lemon Icebox Pie.

I have a great recipe for Alfredo sauce that he loves. I don't make it often, mostly on special occasions. We save our artery clogging for birthdays and anniversaries and "big events." I cut chicken up into bite size pieces and cook it with onions, garlic, sundried tomatoes and other vegetables. It is superb with my famous Alfredo sauce.

This was what The Mighty Hunter ate last night on his 37th birthday.

Lemon Icebox Pie
1/2 c lemon juice
1 15oz. can sweetened condensed milk
2 egg yolks
1 prepared pie crust (graham cracker or baked)

Mix together juice, milk and egg yolks with mixer and pour into crust. Chill for 2 hrs or until set.

Alfredo Sauce
4 Tbs butter (the real stuff only)
1 c cream (again, the real stuff, no cheating)
2 1/2 c fresh parmesan (may split 50/50 with romano)
fresh garlic (1-2 cloves), grated or crushed

Melt butter over low temperature. Add in garlic. When melted, stir in 1/2 of butter and all of cream. Allow cheese to melt completely, stirring frequently. Stir in remaining cheese, stir until melted. Serve, enjoy and grow fat.

Happy Birthday to The Mighty Hunter!

The Mighty Hunter (copied from Wordpress)

I'm claiming temporary insanity. Anyone who has ever been pregnant will definitely agree that I'm definitely qualified. I have 3 months left for this convenient disability and plan to use it for all its worth.

Along with being just plain nuts about some things (unlike before when I was never only occasionally nuts), I'm typically pg emotional. Reading the sweet story Moreena tells of her Annika needing both hands made me cry. She is such a talented word-crafter. Moreena, you Rock!

Guideposts magazine articles about lost pets and LeapPad commercials are the latest Big Meanies to make little ol' me cry.

My ultrasound did it Monday morning. But that's not unusual for crazy pg gals.

Well, you've probably determined that we're having a little boy. Boys have turtle bottoms and girls have hamburger bottoms. At least that's what the sonographer here says they look like. I kinda agree. If you poke yourself in the eye to temporarilyblur your vision and then strain to see the picture on the u/s screen, you'll see a turtle or a hamburger or nothing but a big blobby mess.

The Mighty Hunter is on top of the world.

Before I continue with my description of his excitement over having a SON (hear that in the movie announcer's deep, dramatic voice), let me tell you a little about The Mighty Hunter's fathering of his daughter.

There was The Mighty Hunter. He was exactly as you might imagine someone with that nickname. He's smart. Tall. Handsome. Hard-working. Outdoorsy. Hunter. Fisher. Find-his-way-out-of-the-woods-in-the-dark-blindfolded. Passionate (shh. don't tell him I said that). Loves Auburn football. Hates u of alabama football. Ditto for Tennessee and Florida and all other rivals of Auburn University. Loves Jesus and his family with all his heart.

He was a "guy." Not much more. But a complete and total Guy.

He learned with mixed emotions that Stinkerbell would be a girl. He knew he would be putty in her tiny, little, soft hands. He tried to prepare himself with all he knew about fathering a daughter. Which was Nothing. I mean, he had a younger brother - no sisters. Until me, the only female in his life had been his mom - whom we lost to leukemia when I was 2 months pg.

With my ob, we planned my labor induction for a Saturday morning - inauguration day! We arrived and settled into the L&D suite. It was pretty uneventful till I puked red and purple Jolly Ranchers about 6:30pm. Except for the intense contractions that lasted 3 days before the Blessed Epidural (BBE). He is still scared to be in the room with me BBE this time - chicken!

At 8:something o'clock, Stinkerbell emerged, screaming and squeezing her thumbs between her pointer and middle fingers. It was at this point that The Mighty Hunter forever lost the hard boney quality to his spine. It is now completely and irrevocably comprised of jell-O. He cried (shh. don't tell him I told you.) He commented on her big feet - and they're still big. He stroked her little arms and legs and head and back and belly as we held her for the first time. As they measured her and did all that crap, he stroked and shushed her screams more still. The video camera went with him into the nursery as the nurses gave her her 1st bath. More stroking and shushing. He held her in his arms like she was the very Christ Child. Or the most fragile, tender, precious, beautiful, important egg-shell of a creature he'd ever seen.

He was instantly, completely, unbelievably, wonderfully in love with Stinkerbell.

And still is.

She owns him, and they both know it. Ask her where she keeps her daddy and she'll hold up her little pinky finger.

And she loves him. This Sunday night she said that she had changed her mind and did want to GET a baby when she got older. Not really HAVE a baby, but GET one - scared of needles and understands they're just part and parcel of pg. I told her that she should find herself a good Christian man to marry and GET a baby with him.

"I want to marry Daddy."

"Well, I'm married to him already, so I don't think that will work. But why don't you go tell him that you want to marry him."

She trots down the hall, buck naked from just finishing her bath to tell her Daddy this wonderful announcement. A few minutes later, I bring her panties and pj's to her and I learn that The Mighty Hunter's trying to figure out a way to accomplish this so that there will NEVER be another man in her life that she would EVER want to marry.

It's this kind of sweetness and love and devotion that The Mighty Hunter has for his Daughter (hear that in your head with Celine Dion's voice in a lullaby style).

Now, he's getting his SON (again, the movie announcer voice). He's so very VERY excited. He had admitted to me before the u/s that he really hoped it would be a son and that he would be disappointed if it were a girl.

Before you start the criticisms, keep in mind that we ALL have preferences and he is NOT wrong for having a preference in this. Also remember how very dearly he loves Stinkerbell and don't think for a SECOND that he'd love a 2nd daughter less than this SON. He just wants a Little Mighty Hunter to pal around with and pick on.

I patted him on the arm and told him it would be ok either way.

But now he is getting his SON. And it is wonderful news to him. He's on top of the world. He's thrilled.

But I realized something else. And I've already told you about it. The Mighty Hunter is a different man because he was father to a daughter first. If the SON were first and Stinkerbell the 2nd child, I don't think he'd be The Mighty Hunter as we know him today. There's a tenderness that he has acquired that might not be there if the birth order were reversed.

So, it's great that we're having the SON. And it's actually great that the SON is 2nd after Stinkerbell.

So how is Auburn Gal handling being the mother of the SON? Pretty good. I'm excited too. I had been able to restrain myself from buying anything, thinking that some of Stinkerbell's clothes, etc might be recycled. But last night, I bought the very FIRST things for the SON last night. Wal-Mart had some things on clearance and there were some CUTE little outfits in 3-6 months size - just right for late spring and summer. Stinkerbell was thrilled to help choose the first clothes for the SON.

I can't wait to see his fat little thighs sticking out of those little short legs.

BANG BANG (copied from Wordpress)

Here's one I began a few days ago. I no longer remember what else I was going to add to it, so I'm posting it now! I'm sorry if it just ends abruptly without resolution.

In his previous life, Mighty Hunter was a residential property claims adjuster for a major insurance company. He handled all types of losses to homes within the NE quarter of Alabama. There are probably a few blog posts about that part of his/our life. During that time, he would do his paperwork in our extra bedroom/office/storage room. (Clean Sweep, where were you then?)

MH is not known for his saintly patience with electronic or electrical items. He is a founding member of the “If it doesn’t fit, force it club,” with its required tool being the claw hammer.

Fax machines gave MH the opportunity to use the tool that is a close second to the hammer. His hand. There are times when a hammer is over-kill.

Paper jams, busy signals, out of paper, out of ink. The things that cause everyone frustration. Mighty Hunter doesn't handle that type of frustration very well.

"Dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo."

Bang. Bang. Bang. “Stupid piece of junk. Come on!”

"Dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo."

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I think that lightning struck our fax machine, causing permanent unrepairable damage, 4 times over 10 years. Amazing how it didn’t affect anything else in our house in any way, huh?

Santa Got Ran Over By A Reindeer

Ok, now you're about to experience my sick sense of humor. I laughed till I almost peed my pants last night over this! Enjoy!

Casper the deadly reindeer!!

too funny!

Give me Sugar Water!

This morning was my 2nd ultrasound and glucose test.

Glucose tests suck. I was diagnosed as hypoglycemic when I was 10, I think. I've had more glucose tolerance tests (GTT) than any one person ought to have in their life - sans diabetes. My body just doesn't metabolize sugars at the same rate as the "average" person. The GTT should have been 140 or lower after fasting and drinking their "fruit punch flavored" bottled sugar water. I felt like Edgar, the bug alien from Men in Black.

http://www.wavsite.com/sounds/30605/mib21.wav

In my history with GTT's, I've fainted in the dr office bathroom, puked, wished I could puke, gotten raging headaches and had to lie down on exam tables, couches and the floor. Today was below average in excitement. I only got a mild headache and "burped up."

TMI, I know.

Anyway, I flunked the dang thing. Just like I expected. When pg w/Stinkerbell, I flunked it too - 142. Today, I was an over-achiever. 152. It's not really high. It's not a surprise. But I still have to have...

The Dreaded 3 Hour Test.

http://www.grsites.com/sounds/18791905/people/people089.wav

Now for the rest of the story...My mom joined The Mighty Hunter, Stinkerbell and myself for the ultrasound (u/s). My dad was unable to get away from the office long enough. Both my parents were excited about getting to see the u/s. My brother has 4 kids, and they missed all those u/s - plus Stinkerbell's. The Mighty Hunter's dad was in town, but had his own appointment with a surgeon regarding his prostate cancer (another post, another time.)

Stinkerbell was spellbound by the whole thing. There are very few things that get her to be still and quiet. This was one of the best. I LOVED watching her face as she saw her baby for the first time.

The sonographer (sp? name?) confirmed that everything seemed normal. She can't diagnose anything, but I know that she would call the ob in if she saw something that warranted a diagnosis - which she didn't.

152 bpm heartbeat. Cute little face. Long, skinny arms and legs. Approximately 2 lbs now. She gave a much more exact weight but I was too amused by The Mighty Hunters' "10 pounds???" that I forgot the ounces. It's a nice weight, not too big, not too small.

Long straight spine. Eyes still closed.

And there where it should be was a little turtle.

Do you know which sex has the turtle and which has the hamburger?

I'll wait for the comments to find out who can guess it!

This will be fun.

Great Pumpkin (copied from Wordpress)

Saturday, most of the parents from our church car-pooled to a local pumpkin patch. I’ve taken Stinkerbell to a pumpkin patch every October for the past couple of years. It’s always a lot of fun. Last year, it was just Stinkerbell and I at a small farm. We picked a couple of pumpkins and then bought a few that they’d already been picked.

We loaded up the Pimp Mama-mobile with 3 other kids from church and 2 other parents. Disney’s The Wild was in the dvd player. They watched it for a few minutes – until we got 7 miles up the road and stopped for lunch at McDonald’s. I had the pleasure of sitting across from Neighbor’s Son (7), Stinkerbell (5) and Stinkerbell’s best friend from church - BFFC (girl, 7). As soon as Neighbor’s Son was finished eating, the Hot Wheels began racing across the table toward me. Stinkerbell and BFFC had a dance competition with their Barbie ballerinas. Then we were joined by another boy (6) who wanted to race his Hot Wheels with Neighbor’s Son, while I tried to finish my Big ‘n Tasty with cheese and fries with excessive salt and ketchup.

The other parents finished eating a few minutes before I and began bringing their trays to the trash.

“How’s it going up here, Auburn Gal?”

“It’s great!” nervous twitch “I’m leaving. Who wants their kid?”

“Kids get your bags and put them in the trash and load up. Time for the pumpkin patch!”

So, we drove to the pumpkin patch. The kids had a great time.

Playing in the pit of shell corn was the high-light for all the kids. We parents wanted a turn, but the kids wouldn’t let us play.

The 5 ACRE corn maze was very well done and not really difficult. I don’t think I wandered the whole 5 ACRES, but considered making a short-cut to the parking lot when I saw the tops of the vehicles parked there!

Note to self: When wandering a 5 ACRE corn maze, it can be perfectly reasonable and surprisingly efficient to allow a 5 y-o and 7 y-o to lead the way. Stinkerbell and BFFC led us out, holding hands the whole way.

The hay ride to the pumpkin patch was good too. Later this month, this farm does night-time haunted hay-rides. The trails through their 2400 acre farm are very well maintained. The cotton-pickers were working and the bailer was just about to finish a bale of cotton as we rode past. The cotton bales are so big. It’s really interesting.

The pumpkin patch we picked from seemed pretty full still – even though there was a farm truck half-full with pumpkins the farm crew was picking for sale to stores. We wandered around and found 2 very nicely shaped pumpkins.

There was a petting zoo with Shetland ponies, very tame goats and a baby donkey. I didn’t even walk over there. But Stinkerbell and BFFC spent much time there – they’re both animal lovers.

Fun was had by all.

I’ve decided that I definitely want a large shed somewhere on my property. By “large shed” I mean, 18’ roof height minimum, no walls (or possibly enclose a portion with screens!), a gas bbq grill on one side, a little playground slide, porch swings, fluorescent lights, ceiling fans.

The Mighty Hunter observed the beginning of whitetail bow season here in Alabama. He drove his new truck to near Auburn where he is a member of a hunting club. He pulled his new trailer hauling his new Yamaha Rhino, with his new bow safely hidden away. He shot at a small buck Saturday morning but missed. Somehow, he cut a string on his bow, which will have to be fixed before next weekend. He somehow broke a tail-light on his new trailer too.

There was no damage to his truck though. Thank goodness!

Stinkerbell slept in the bed with me both Friday and Saturday night. She has the softest little feet and loves to rub them on my legs as she falls asleep.

I’ve made vegetable soup and Mexican cornbread and The Mighty Hunter’s plain cornbread today.

I have 8 days of work left before I go on maternity leave. wooHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

I have finished a new post over at my wordpress blog...

http://augalinfp.wordpress.com/2006/10/16/32/

Stinkerbell and I went with others from our church to a pumpkin patch. It was really nice. There are pictures and fascinating tidbits about the trip and even a quick re-cap of The Mighty Hunter's hunting trip.

Have a great week!

#2 (copied from Wordpress)

First, I couldn't resist the "#2". teeheehee! Just too easy.

I really mean... Things you only hear in a public restroom when Stinkerbell and I are there!!! Part Two

For #1, please read http://augalinfp.blogspot.com/2006/08/things-you-only-hear-in-public.html

Our first installment with Funny Potty Stories on Stinkerbell (then known as DD) began in a clothing store. Today's chapter will come to you from a restaurant.

Stinkerbell loves eating at the Cracker Barrel. Fried chicken tenders, okra and corn (put the corn in a bowl, please) are her regular order. When she was really small, she called it "tick-tar", her way of pronouncing guitar. Now WHAT it was about the Cracker Barrel store or its sign that made her think of a guitar, I've never really understood. I think it was because of the design on their sign looked a little bit like the big part of a guitar. If you squint really hard. And press on your eyes until your vision blurs. Or you take off your glasses.

Anyway...

Stinkerbell and I were in the ladies room at our local Cracker Barrel. It was a crowded, busy day. All the stalls were full, and several women were outside the stalls washing hands, waiting their turn or changing a diaper. Our turn came and we, once again, used the wheelchair accessible stall. There was no one waiting to pee that required the use of the wheelchair stall, so Stinkerbell and I enjoyed the extra space.

I let her tinkle first. Then while I'm assuming the position, she's doing the "pull up your pants dance"... well, just remember this. Her voice has never been a quiet one. Whisper? Not MY Stinkerbell.



"Mommy, I have a hair on my bottom."

thinking it's one of the long ones from her head that has fallen down into her panties or pants and is tickling or irritating her... "Get it out of there. Put it on the floor."

"No, mommy." frustration drips out of her mouth onto the floor and runs down the sewer drain... "Like you do. See????" big proud grin

You know how they all reacted. You're doing it now. Go ahead and laugh. It's funny.

I gambled that they had all been equally embarrassed by their own twerps at some point in their lives. And if they hadn't yet, it was coming. It's a rite of passage. You embarrassed your parents in all sorts of ways. Your off-spring will embarrass you. It's only fair.

duh (copied from Wordpress)

"There are times when he's not the sharpest tool in the shed"

Or “It’s a Good Thing He’s so Sexy”

Mighty Hunter is a very smart man. He has a lot of talent and skills in business and sports and just regular daily things. There are days, on the other hand, where he gets by because he is cute and has a great, funny laugh.

MH is a deep sleeper. Stinkerbell has inherited that gift. She can sleep very soundly while I bang her bed with the vacuum cleaner. I can remember times when I was a deep sleeper. Then one Presidential Inauguration Day, I gave birth and my ability to hear even the slightest wheeze, sniffle, cough, sigh or breath was intensified to the point that I struggle to sleep at all.

When Stinkerbell was a baby, but old enough to be rolling around on her own, she was in bed with us one night. There were many nights when she slept with us before we finally brain-washed motivated her to sleep in her own bed. One night, she rolled herself all the way to the bottom of the bed without me realizing it. When she rolled herself off the bed and thumped onto the floor, her scared cries jerked me awake.

With the grace and agility of a leopard groggy mommy, I leapt from my sliver-thin portion of our KING-SIZE bed and turned on every light I could reach. Stinkerbell is still screaming, but she is not really hurt. Considering this was the first of, well, more-than-one fall from the bed, she and I handled it pretty well.

Mighty Hunter didn’t handle the situation so well. Not that he panicked or lost consciousness or anything. Losing consciousness would imply that he actually awakened. Panic would also require consciousness.

Conscious? No.

Asleep? Yes.

Annoying? Yes.

Lacking common sense? Yes.

MH sits up in his ¾ portion of the bed and appears awake. His eyes are open. He has a concerned look on his face. But his words reveal his true mental capacities...

“What’s wrong?”

“She fell off the bed.”

“Did she bounce?” Lies back down on his pillow. Closes eyes. Snores.

Did she BOUNCE? He is soooo lucky I’m occupied caring for his child to smother him with his own pillow. This might just count for temporary insanity.

The next day, I thank him, with all the stinging sarcasm I can muster, for his assistance during the night’s excitement.

You’re gonna love this.

He doesn’t remember it at all.

Auburn Gal Always’s Doo-doo Cookies
AKA: #2 Cookies, No-bake Oatmeal Cookies

4 cups water
2 cups sugar
2 very heaping Tbs cocoa powder
Instant oats
4 oz cream cheese (more or less according to taste)
1 heaping Tbs smooth peanut butter (more or less according to taste)

In a large sauce pan, combine water, sugar and cocoa. Increase heat until this reaches a good rolling boil. Allow to boil until bubbles become large and mixture is thicker and it reaches the “hard ball” stage.* When hard ball stage is reached, remove from heat. Quickly stir in cream cheese and peanut butter, a perfect mixture is not necessary here. Add oats to mixture until your preferred consistency is reached. Less oats yields a more candy-like cookie. More oats yields a more chewy cookie. With a tablespoon or small serving spoon, drop cookies onto wax paper or parchment paper. Allow to cool. Lick the pan and spoon clean to conserve water and soap during clean-up.

*Hard ball stage is reached when a small drop of your mixture is dropped into cool water and forms a hard ball. Do not short-cut this part. You will get syrup and not cookies if you don’t let it reach hard ball stage.

On the other hand, chocolate syrup is a yummy thing too.

I'm a member of ClubMom.com I'm posting this recipe in response to a question asked there. If you give it a try and like it, please let me know with a comment. If you make your own modifications and improvements, please share that with me too!

Auburn Gal Always (healthy) Quesadillas

(2) 8” Whole wheat tortillas (98% fat free)
1-2 Tbs all white meat chicken
Chili powder
Cumin
1 Tbs Rotel, drained
1 tsp diced chiles
Chopped onions, raw or sautéed in olive or canola oil, your choice (1 Tbs or as preferred)
Cubed hot pepper cheese – substitute milder variety pepper jack if preferred
Sliced jalapenos (to taste)

Pre-heat non-stick pan over medium heat. Drain all water off chicken. Transfer chicken to a bowl, sprinkle with chili powder and cumin. Using a fork, “shred” chicken into thin “slivers”, mixing chili powder and cumin into meat. Lightly spread approximately 1-2 Tbs of chicken onto one tortilla. Spread Rotel, chiles, onions and jalapenos evenly on top of chicken. Distribute approximately 8-10 cubes of cheese on top. (If using shredded cheese, use 1-2 Tbs). Carefully slide into pre-heated pan and cover with 2nd tortilla. Allow to cook until bottom tortilla is golden brown, 4-5 minutes. Using wide spatula, carefully flip tortilla and allow to cook an additional 4-5 minutes, until golden brown.

Remove from heat. Slice with your favorite pizza cutter and serve with fat free sour cream.

One quesadilla = 3 points*, approximately. *not evaluated or tested by WW. Points determined by using points calculator and calorie, fat, etc of ingredients. Rotel, chiles, jalapenos and raw onions are 0 points. 2 tortillas are less than 1 pt. Chicken is approx 1 pt. Cheese and cooked onions are approx 1 pt.




by the way... I have a new post over at my wordpress blog... http://augalinfp.wordpress.com/2006/10/09/“there-are-times-when-he’s-not-the-sharpest-tool-in-the-shed”/

Ebay (copied over from Wordpress)


I have yet to try to sell anything on Ebay. or eBay - whatever! But I have bought a few things over the last couple of years. Most of it has been things for Stinkerbell or odds and ends to use at work.

I've gotten some great deals on clothes for Stinkerbell. 2 yrs ago I got her the cutest red wool Rothschild's dress coat with matching hat for $60-ish. Old Navy overals for under $10. really great stuff.

This week, I received this beautiful winter coat for her - direct from eBay for the AMAZINGLY low price of $31. Except for the white cathair and long hairs all over it - it was in PERECT condition! Dry-cleaner is taking care of that as we speak/type/read.



Also, I presented Stinkerbell with her Halloween costume...



She has worn it every night since I gave it to her. What a total grand slam of a Halloween costume! Yay, Mommy!

No, I don't think we'll all go to hell and take Stinkerbell with us for observing the "clearly satanic" even of Halloween. Yes, it is a time of all things scary and not very "Christian". I really dislike that part of it. Our little country church has a Fall Festival that allows the kids to wear their costumes, play games, win prizes, eat unhealthy foods, Trunk-or-Treat (they walk from car trunk to car trunk instead of house to house), have a talent show. It's a lot of fun. But Mighty Hunter and I always take Stinkerbell around to her my parents, some aunts and uncles, her great-grandmothers and a select few other places to do her authentic trick or treating. She knows that the scary things on tv and the costumes are pretend. She knows Who is in charge of the world and knows about the "big bad guy" that's out there to try to mess up the Lord's work. She knows all this without being afraid of it - and that is MINE and Mighty Hunter's jobs. We TRY (unsuccessfully most of the time) to just live our lives by the Book and let that show - even during this Halloween-evil-you'll-go-to-hell time of year.

Maybe its being a hypocrit. We're just trying to be real.

My Halloween costume might not go over so well at our church's event. It takes some imagination - not much - but look at the Before...



And the After...

Brace yourself - it's not pretty! Hide the kiddo's eyes - it's just too graphic for them!



Can you tell that Peanut is resting right under my freckle? Yup, Peanut's most comfy in the right half of my hips for now.

Friday the 13th is the day we do our ultrasound and find out if Peanut is a girl (sound the death-knell for Mighty Hunter's backbone for ETERNITY) or a boy (get the camera ready for a big, proud daddy grin b/c he'll finally have a male ally in the house!) I also have to have the dreaded glucose tolerance test that morning - translation: eat and drink nothing after midnight, pray that I won't faint from my hypoglycemia, present finger, "big stick", squish finger till river of blood flows from tiny pin prick, wait and pray for another 20 minutes while NOT eating or drinking, stick another finger, squish it till 2nd river flows, drink large glass of orange juice stashed in purse, receive news that glucose is 2 points higher than acceptable, schedule the even longer and more dreaded glucose test at hospital.

If it weren't for getting to see Peanut that morning, I'd stay home and LIE about doing the glucose test.

dang hypoglycemia! dang fasting! dang "big-stick"-finger squishing-"your glucose is barely too high" OB's!