Got to the give the boy credit for trying

So my husband, yeah, he's not THEE most romantic boy on the planet, or even in the house really, but he tries, and I love him for it. He hates surprises and receiving gifts, never wants any kind of big deal made out of his birthday. Me, I love surprises, and gifts and attention. This makes life ultra hard for the BWB. He's had good and bad years with my birthday, like for my thirtieth, he planned a trip to Florida and had a suprise party at my mom's house with all my good friends. Best.birthday.ever. Then, a couple years ago, he did nothing. NOT A THING. No gift, no flowers, no card, nothing. I wasn't particularly pleased by that since all I'd asked for is an apron so I didn't ruin my clothes when I cooked. Well, he couldn't find anything he liked, so he didn't do anything. Stupid boy. Some lovely OIFU (oops I fucked up) flowers were delivered to work the following day, so I mostly forgave him.

He now understands that if nothing else a card would be wonderful. Just a little acknowledgement that hey, it's your birthday, I remembered! And he did that this year. He went to the store (likely on his way home) and looked for a ginormous, flowery, gushy card to give me. It reads on the cover:

For the One I Love
You Fill My World With Beauty (awwww)

on the inside:

You cane into my world
softly, gently <-------ha, haa haa, ha
gracing it with light laughter, and love-
changing all things for the better.
If ever a woman were a blessing,
that woman is you.

(sweet right?)

Happy Birthday Happy Mother's Day

I read that last line to him and he gave that 'ha ha very funny' look. Then I showed him the card and we both literally fell on the floor laughing. Brainiac that my husband is, didn't even read the whole card, just assumed it was a birthday card. God love him, at least comical.

34

That's how old I am today, I'm officially entering my MID-thirties, oh the humanity. On the bright side, I have resigned myself to spending this particular decade ruining my figure, wiping butts and noses, and yelling "NO!" as often as humanly possible, so the closer to forty I am the better, right? Hopefully by then I'll be done with the butt wiping, and a nice round of plastic surgery to chop off my belly and put my boobs back on my chest rather than my abdomen will take care of the figure. The "NO!" well, I'm not expecting that to stop anytime soon. Two outta three ain't bad.

You know, next year I'm officially of ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE! Ob/Gyns will start classifying me as geriatric, and my fetus is more likely to be defective! Good thing I'm having this one in September, a mere six months later it would surely have three eyes and flippers.

Eeeek!

So, last year some time, I might have given the BWB a wee bit of guff for his fear of spiders, I might even have implied he screamed like a girl. True as it may be, I feel I owe a bit of reciprocation, thus, I will share my bug phobia. Now my fear, is way worse than his, because mine, like flies and shit, and it stings and it's mean and aggressive and and *gasp* *cough* *choke*

...breathe...

Ok, sorry about that, I have a tremendous fear of wasps (and hornets and yellow jackets, basically anything that chases you around the yard looking to inject poison into your body). But see, unlike the BWB and his piddly fear of arachnids, I have good reason to fear wasps, yesiree bob. They hunt me, no really, they do. Allow me to provide examples:

A few years back, I was enjoying a nice barefoot stroll through my backyard when a wasp spotted me. It said, hey bzzzz, there's A.K.'s feet, bzzzz, all unprotected, bzzzzz and the little bastard flew right under my foot and forced me to step on him. Could he sting the calloused heel or pad of my foot, no, he had to sting my tender little arch. YEOUCH! BWB was all what's your problem, and I'm all, a fucking wasp stung me. WAIL, CRY, SOB! And then I forced him to carry me up the stairs and lay me on the couch.

Big deal, right, people step on wasps all the time, right? Yeah, well that's just the beginning. Let's move to last summer. I was in Pennsylvania, sitting on the steps in a pool. I was watching my husband and kids splash around and otherwise minding my own business. A wasp must have spotted me, he said hey bzzz, there's A.K. in a swimsuit, bzzz, look at all that exposed skin, bzzz! The stealth wasp then did something outrageous and crawled into the pool and glided towards me atop the water and proceeded to sting my ass. STUNG MY ASS! I got my ass stung sitting in the water. I showed him, I didn't cry at all, and I made the BWB scoop him up and smash him flat on the pool deck. (ON MY ASS, really) I won't even mention the time a bee landed on my chin while I was in the pool and stung me, because he was just a stupid kamikaze bee and died immediately.

Ok, a little more impressed are ya? Well that doesn't even begin to measure up to my next experience. BWB and I were staying in a cabin in Georgia with our friends and kids. I was pg with GB at the time. We just finished fixing a steak dinner and I sat down at the table to await the feast. Suddenly my toe started burning. What the fuh...? Then I knew, one of those thoraxed beasts was stinging my toe, through my sock, under the dining room table, inside the cabin! I did what any rational person would do, I made a sound of displeasure, calmly removed the sock to which the wasp was attached and slowly made my way away from the table. Alright, maybe it didn't happen *quite* that way, it could have been more like a screaming banshee frantically ripping her sock off while knocking down her chair bolting from the table and proceeding to slip on the hardwood floor due to remaining sock and landing flat on her ass and then crab crawling pell mell out of the room. Maybe.

You see, my wasp phobia is not unjustified! They hunt me like prey, they are stealthy and vicious and I fucking hate them. So, when three wasps, that would be T-H-R-E-E, appeared on my deck this afternoon, not 2 minutes after I walked out the door, I knew I was in trouble. But, I had GB with me, so I didn't have the luxury of screaming and flailing about. I sat and I watched and I waited. One of those beasts landed on the french doors and another flew to the gate blocking my remaining means of escape, then the third one...disappeared! I could wait no longer, I knew it was only a matter of time. I saw the one on the door make a foolish mistake, he flew to a low spot on the wall and I made my move. I kicked the holy living crap out of my house yelling, "NOT THIS TIME!" And then I ran into the house and slammed the door shut behind me. Ha! I got one. GB and I were safe. Killing that wasp wasn't hard, perhaps I will spend this summer exacting my revenge on the stinging vermin one by one. I'll choke them with wasp spray, I'll smash them with shoes, I'll, I'll...aw shit, who am I kidding, I'll still scream, prance around frantically and beg BWB to kill them all for me. I think it's a fair trade.

Happy Easter!

May you be free of sin and full of chocolate!

I'm rather disappointed and proud of myself this year. Disappointed in that I'm here, in front of the computer, and not at church. Not that going to church on Christmas Eve and Easter really makes you a spectacular Christian, still, I feel guilty none the less. I know that spirituality comes from the heart/soul and not from a brick and mortar structure, but I do like the guidance and teachings you do receive at a church. Must work on this.

But hey, lets get to being proud of myself. A long time back I bought DB a big Tonka dumptruck at Target (on sale). I knew it would be great for his sandbox, but it was the middle of winter so I held on to it. Christmas and his birthday came and went and still it remained stowed away, I remembered it this past week and had a brainstorm. What a fun Easter basket that would make rather than some plain ole wicker thing. I filled the back with "grass" and piled in a bunch of plastic eggs filled with treats, some small matchbox sized trucks and various other goodies. Pretty great idea if I do say so myself.

Unfortunately, our kids were up several times throughout the night and GB was burning up with fever at 4:30am, so I was up with him for an hour or so and the BWB let me sleep in so I missed DB finding his 'basket'. Ah well, I know he liked it and that's all that matters.

Well, at least DB is funny.

From today:

We're eating dinner at a local deli and picking up some Boar's Head to take home. While I'm at the counter, DB is running in circles around me. I'd put up my leg to block him and he'd laugh, "again mommy!" Repeat several times. Then he decides he'd prefer to sit on my foot.

Me: DB, be gentle with mommy, she's old and lame. (my knee has been acting up)
DB: What mommy? You old and fat?
Me: :-O
Everyone around: *fits of laughter*
DB: You old and fat, you old and fat, you old and fat....*giggle*

Then on the way home we had this conversation.

DB: Where are we going?
Me: Home.
DB: Why?
Daddy: Why are we going home DB?
DB: Dat's where I live!
Daddy: Good! Where does daddy live?
DB: Work.
Me: *Uproarious laughter* Smart kid.

Book Meme

Gee thanks HG, force a pregnant lady to think.

1. What book would I like to be?
Hmm, since I'm currently reading Black House and just finished The Talisman (Stephen King & Peter Straub), I'm thinking I might choose one of these. The ability to flip back and forth between concurrent but utterly different worlds fascinates me. Especially when the Territories are described as such an incredibly pure and blissful place.

2. Have I ever had a crush on a fictional character?
Hmmm, not really that I recall.

3. What is the last book I bought?
I'm pretty sure it was either The Taking or The Face by Dean Koontz. I've been catching up on books we already own and have had several given to me lately.

4. What is the last book I read?
The Talisman, I can't believe it took me this long to reading it, I really enjoyed it.

5. What book am I currently reading?
Black House, the sequel to The Talisman. Taking me forever since I only get a few minutes here and there to actually pick up a book.

6. What five books would I take with me if I was stranded on a desert island?
Tough question.
Outdoor Survival Skills by Larry Dean Olsen ;)
War and Peace--I'd finally have time to read it.
The Lord of the Rings trilogy--there, that was easy.

7. What three poor idiots am I tagging with this FUN FUN FUN? Mel, Ang & billy

Go Veeg Go!

Since the woman can't manage a measly blog entry more than once a month, I guess I will have to be the one to tell you that she gave birth to a little girl yesterday morning. Yay Veeg!

What Do You Mean I'm Not Funny?

So, it was brought to my attention by a good friend that my blog has lost that humor it used to possess. She was reading through the archives and laughing enough to call me no fewer than three times to reminisce about old funnies. So, I glanced back through the archives from a year ago and last summer, and you know, she's right, I was freaking hilarious. Then, I reviewed more recent entries, damn, I've turned into such a drag.

Wah, SAHMhood is hard! BooHoo, my MIL is a drunk! Sheesh, I'm knocked up AGAIN. Sprinkle all that with a plethora of guilt and self loathing and voila, I'm not funny! No wonder you all stopped commenting, what are you going to say? Jeez AK, pull your head out of your ass and realize life ain't so bad? You can only say "Sorry AK, that's rough AK, don't feel bad AK, you did the right thing AK" so many times. Maybe there should be a new feature to link back to old comments so you don't have to waste time typing.

So, in place of my Relief or Defeat Part III, I'm going to share a funny story from my trip to Florida last month.

The boys (DB & GB) and I went out on a boat with my good friend, her husband and their two boys. It wasn't cold by any stretch, but when that boat started moving it was darn chilly. The two babies survived the trip hidden under towels cuddled in our laps and the elder boys took joy in alternately "driving" the boat and blowing the most god awful obnoxious whistle eleventy-billion times. We arrived at our destination, a wonderful little island filled with nice sand and beautiful shells that I haven't seen the likes of since I was a small child myself.

We had a great day building sand castles, walking the beach and stuffing ourselves with hotdogs and french fries. When it was time to go back everyone was exhausted. We loaded up the boat and started on our way hoping the 20 minute boat ride would not be filled with screamy babies. Thankfully all the children fell asleep, yes even the big boys. But, 10 minutes into the trip DB woke up and said I gotta go potty mommy, he'd gone after we ate--pooped in his pants after I'd *already* taken him to the john--but after the two bottles of powerade he drank, I had no doubt he had to go again. He had on a pull up so I told him to go ahead an pee in it. That got me tears and pretantrum behavior, so I asked if we could pull the boat over so he could pee over the side. So we did, but since GB was dead asleep in my lap and moving was a sure fire way to experience a very loud and unpleasant remainder of the trip back, my friend H moved to the front of the boat with her 5 mo old and helped DB stand up on the seat, get his pants down and pee over the rail. What I absolutely could not have predicted in a million years was DB arching his back, hands at his side peeing an arc of urine three feet into the air while my friend held DB's penis. Yes, HELD HIS PENIS WHILE HE PEED. How I didn't wake up Gabe laughing so freaking hard is a miracle. It almost would have been worth it to wake him up so I could grab my camera and photograph my friend, miss prim and proper, holding DB's teeny little weener between her thumb and first finger. H looked at me like 'what's so funny?' When I caught my breath, I asked why she was holding DB's penis. She looked at me totally straight faced and serious and said she didn't want him to pee on the boat. I said, he can hold his own penis, he does it all the time. He can? Uh huh. It wasn't until then that she realized just how funny the situation was. She hasn't had the pleasure of potty training yet, her boys are a bit younger, so she had no clue that you didn't have to help them so, uh, directly.

Man I love that girl, she keeps me laughing. Best yet, what a perfect weapon in the arsenal of great moments with which to embarrass the holy living hell out of your children.

Relief or Defeat cont'd

Part II

I did it, I officially shirked 1/5th of my job responsibility, I put DB in daycare two days a week. (and if that figure is in anyway incorrect, I'm sure you'll tell me, right dear?) Yeah, so, DB and I have not been having the most fun-filled days as of late, there has been much frustration and maybe a teeny tiny (ginormous) amount of yelling. I figured for both our sakes, we needed a break from one another. I seem to have a tad bit of difficulty coping with 3 yr old behaviors, you know, like the "why?" thing or the "I have to shout in order for you to actually listen to what I need you to do" thing. Not so good with those or the never ending ball of energy that is the dinoboy. Then there is the always hurting his brother thing. OK, basically my elder annoys the shit out of me more days than not.

I didn't want to continue that way. I didn't want my son to grow up with a shrieky she-beast of a mother. I didn't want to resent him for just being three, and I did. I need to get through my head that daycare doesn't equal failure as a mom, it means that I will have dedicated time to spend with GB before three arrives. It means that I get a little more "me" time. It means that I don't fall off the brink. Ultimately, it (hopefully) means happier mom, which in turn means happier family.

This is his first day. He couldn't wait to go. Why? Because his best friend L goes to the same daycare. If I couldn't convince myself of this being the right choice before, seeing those two run up to one another and joyfully hug and giggle sure did make it right or at least better.

Relief or Defeat

The two emotions currently vying for top billing in my brain. I've been dealing with some not fun decisions lately and though I think they ultimately are a good thing, the process of reaching the decision has been a struggle.

Part I

Zeus, the big dumb dog. We adopted Zeus and his sister Cinnamon from a shelter in February of 2000. Cinnamon died of distemper two weeks later, but Zeus managed to survive. He was never an easy dog, he wasn't housetrained (at 1.5yrs old) and had not been socialized to other dogs or people. He did not like being penned nor did he like being alone. We assumed this was a transitional phase, Zeus having had a pretty rough start and now in an unfamiliar environment sans his littermate. We finally crated him, which worked, for oh, an hour before he totally destroyed the crate we had purchased. We bought another stronger crate which he eventually managed to escape from as well, along with at least three additional crates (which we'd reinforced to the best of our ability) to date.

Zeus became Zeusdini, because he could not be caged. In his forays out of the crate, we lost three couches, two remotes, countless shoes, boxes, pillows and variety of other items. I didn't mention the wall he dug through when we tried to keep him under the basement steps in a rudimentary pen. The dog actually ate drywall and plywood. So, needless to say he was destructive. But, he was the sweetest dog otherwise, and he was so so good with the kids. That was his saving grace along with the principal you don't just dump and animal when it becomes inconvenient.

But things never got better, with the birth of each child, it got worse. About 6 months ago, we were done. We couldn't handle the separation anxiety anymore. It was too stressful to leave the house and wonder what would be destroyed when we got home. We started resenting Zeus and it just wasn't fair to the dog. I started calling shelters, rescues, friends, relatives, anyone who might take Zeus. This was no easy task since Zeus is over 100 lbs and has obvious issues. The no-kill shelters labeled him unadoptable. He wasn't a purebred, so the rescues wouldn't take him. I got turned away everywhere I went. The only remaining option was to either a) lie about the dog b) euthanize--I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I called my vet and we went ahead and put the dog on Clomipramine, an anti-anxiety med. I also called a trainer who specialized in separation anxiety. Oh, and we got a new bigger crate. Things were fine for a while, the meds did mellow him out, but Zeus still worked his way out of the crate eventually. And then there was this. I just couldn't justify the danger of having the meds in the house with two--soon to be three--small children. So when I got back from Florida is became critical to make a decision.

Our friend OKC had said that before we put Zeus down we had to call him. So, we did, and OKC took Zeus for a "puppy vacation", to see how things would work out. It has been a week and he hasn't been dropped off on our front stoop, so I'm hopeful. Because the alternative? Zeus dies. And I know I'm not going to be able to go to the vet and be there, not again, not pregnant, not in my current state of mind. We had to put our pit, Louie, down when I was 8 mos pregnant with DB because he got violent and crazy. There was no way we could have him in the house with a child, and obviously no one would take him. I cried for weeks. Not again, I just can't.

So now I'm left with this feeling of relief, life *is* easier without the big dumb dog. But I also feel like I failed Zeus, dumped him when it got too hard and I hate it. He was our responsibility, and we couldn't, worse, didn't want to take care of him anymore.

Be Cool

Go see this now. I haven't laughed so hard at a movie in a long time. If you don't know it's the sequel to Get Shorty--but it really makes no difference if you haven't seen it recently or at all. It stands alone just fine. The cast is such a great mix of character and humor, and they do a stupendous job.

Numerical observations

Six am is too early to be awake on Saturday, someone please tell the small child this.

28 minutes and 39 seconds is waaay to long to be waiting for someone from Dell to answer my desperate plea for a solution to my computer woes. It's not as if I didn't already own a computer that does NOT work, you'd expect a brand spanking new one to well, work.

Three things, that is what you will find on your plate when you order breakfast from Cracker Barrel: Lard, butter, grease. And damn if it isn't mighty tasty.

Once, is how often I threw up when I got home from eating grease, lard and butter. Apparently the fetus has no interest in a 6000 calorie breakfast.

One and a half is how many children I have napping right now. The half is my stinker toddler who is in his room playing rather than sleeping, BUT he's in his room.

Six pm is when the BWB and I will experience FREEDOM from children. Only 4 more hours.

I wonder

why blogging has suddenly become so hard for me. I've actually maintained this blog, more or less, for over a year now. That's miraculous considering my gnat-like attention span. There used to be days where I could have written several entries and there were nights i couldn't sleep for a blog entry formulating in my head.

Now? Meh. Maybe I've lost my way in bloggerland. My daily life is repetitive and honestly not much to write about. When there are funny or interesting things going on, I just don't find the time to get them from brain to computer. I don't want this to become a whiny preggo blog, can you say boring? And since this is my third time around, I feel like I'm void of all those funny little insights and anecdotes the newly pregnant experience. Sometimes, I don't even remember I'm pregnant. It seems like my attitude for the duration is ambivalence. I think it's seeping into all aspects of my life.

So, maybe this isn't really about blogging, but about the fear that somehow I've just stopped caring about shit.

Household Musings

Why did clothing designers decide it was a good idea to make multi-pocket pants for little boys? Don't they realize this means that every single time I have to do a load of boys laundry I have 57 pockets to check for items like: coins, rocks, bugs, toys, candy, sand and paper? No wonder the boys are running around in underwear today, I dread kids' wash.

Why cleaning the house is futile: Because when I actually remember to turn on the Roomba to run over the upstairs carpet thinking I'm saving myself the trouble of vacuuming, a certain preschooler thinks it would be cool to pull out the dust bin and let his little brother play with it. Meaning I have to get out the regular vacuum anyway and clean up the very same dirt that was already cleaned up.

Why can't the newly toilet trained child manage to actually pee *IN* the toilet, instead of on, under, around, above and in front of the toilet? And why does he suddenly insist on using OUR bathroom instead of the one that already constantly smells like pee? Because you know it's fun to sit on the toilet and realize you just stepped in a puddle of piddle. And, please don't get me started on butt wiping. *gag*

These are the things I think pregnant women should be exempt from doing: everything. OK, seriously: Pooper scooping the yard, changing diapers, handling raw meat, cleaning out any container that has been in the fridge for more than 3 days, taking out the trash, scrubbing toilets, and watching Fear Factor.

Had my 12 wk appointment

After not being able to find the heartbeat with the doppler or abdominal ultrasound, the OB did an internal u/s and up popped the sneaky little bugger.


It's an alien!

When Did That Happen?

When did the mean age of bar hoppers become at least a decade younger than myself?

When did the music at a dance club become an unrecognizable mix of technorap that I'm totally unfamiliar with?

When did *I* become the least drunk, most dressed person in the bachelorette party?

When did practicality and warmth override fashion sense in my choice of partywear?

When did I start thinking it would be a better idea to take my own car than to ride in the limo with the rest of the crew (in case i wanted to leave early).

When did midnight become a late night for me?

When in the hell did I get so old?

Dude, I'm gettin' a Dell!

I just received confirmation that our new Dimension 8400 has been shipped. I'm so excited to have a computer that will NOT shut down on me every 30 minutes, tell me how low my resources are with only Outlook Express running and that has a mouse that does not take on a life of it's own randomly opening and closing windows.

The source of even more joy is the XP Media Center and TV Tuner that will accompany the new computer. I've been yearning for TiVo or the likes for years now and I shall have it. I'll be able to save tv/movies down to the hard drive and then burn them to DVD to watch at my leisure. Yay, I can finally be rid of my conundrum as to whether I should watch Monk, Numbers or Medical Investigation on Friday night! (yes that means I'm a loser when I struggle with which tv program to watch on a FRIDAY NIGHT)

I'm sure there are those of you out there that would revel in telling me what a huge mistake I've made choosing a Dell or that I should be dumping anything Microsoft-related and using Firefox or whatnot, but pretty please don't ruin my little moment of happiness. I just want to take joy in the fact that I'll soon be able to upload and print pictures without the 2-3 restarts that I currently have to go through to get my old Gateway to recognize my digital camera.

Questions Answered

Thank you for giving me something to write about, I am feeling so uninspired lately.

From Heidi:
Aside from the obvious, what are your favorite parts about being a SAHM?
By obvious do you mean hanging in my PJs all day sipping coffee and eating bonbons? ;) This is actually a hard question for me since I've really struggled with being a SAHM. I could easily list 10 things I hate about it, but it actually takes some thought to figure out what I really like (aside from being able to spend so much time with the boys--which would probably qualify for both lists.

I have really appreciated the lack of weekly illness that plagued our house while DB was in daycare. I love having the opportunity to take the boys to a bunch of different places we might not otherwise see. Getting to spend two weeks in Florida with my mom was a definite bonus, meaning I'm not tied to a calendar or a work week. Most of all, even if I'm often frustrated, I'm doing something that I feel is truly important and worthwhile.

Do you think that three kids will be it, or are you still hoping for more?
Totally playing that by ear. We've discussed four, but it's not in any way a difinitive number. I will admit, if this is a boy, I'd be more easily swayed to have a fourth. And alternately, if this baby is a colicky pain in the ass, I'd be much much less likely no matter what the gender.

From Aimee:
Did you always know you wanted a big family? How do you handle it - another only child wants to know!
Yes, I actually did always want a big family. I hated being an only child, especially since we moved around a lot. Honestly, I still hate it, I miss the sibling bond that so many people have. And yes, I know that not all siblings are close, but that doesn't change my feeling. How do I handle what? Having three kids? On the brink of sanity, Aimee, on the brink. ;)

Also -- how did you know you were *ready* - this is my new fav. question for moms.
I found the man that I loved (and trusted) and was at a point in my life where it honestly seemed the next logical step. I was married, I was 30, I'd done my share of partying, traveling, sowing...and we were financially able. And the desire was so there.

From JoAnn:
What's to see in St Louis with the wee ones? We're planning a get-together there with my ILs, probably in June. The kids' ages will range from 11 mos-4-1/2 yrs; should we skip Six Flags?
You could go to The Magic House, The Science Center, The Powder Valley Nature Reserve, Grants Farm, The Train Museum, The City Museum, The Botanical Gardens and the Zoo. St. Louis is actually a very good place to visit with children. Call or email me and we can talk more in depth, or I can send you all the links. And definite yes on skipping Six Flags, I wouldn't go until kids were older.

We're also wondering where all three families should stay: is there a Holidome around?
I'm not sure off the top of my head as I don't stay in hotels here very often. I know Ang was pretty happy with where she stayed while they were here, but I think it was out towards Eureka. I could do some research for you...

I got nothin'

So, I'll pull an HG. Ask me a question, I'll provide an answer. I will not guarantee accuracy as I am pregnant and braincells have already begun to flee with mad haste.

The Slack is Back

Ah yes, I have returned from my wonderful two weeks of 70 degree days and motherly spoiling. Back to the reality of stay at home mom of two living the cold weather life. Le Sigh.

What news have I? Not much from vacation, it was a lot of the same. We went to the beach, playground, took a lot of walks and ate a ton of great food. My mom spoiled me with hot croissants from a local bakery every morning which we devoured with a ton of butter and raspberry jelly. GB decided that 5am was his ideal wake up time--which sucked, but after a bottle he generally went back to sleep with little coaxing. DB got his very first tennis lesson from Oma. I read a book, did a lot of crossword puzzles and was blessed with at least an hour or so of solo time each day while mom walked the boys around the neighborhood. I got to see my sis-in-law on a few occasions, went out on a boat to Caldesi Island with my good friends and their two kids, and managed a brief visit with another long time friend who flew up from S. Florida. All in all, unspectular, but wonderfully comforting.

On the homefront: My mother in law is gone, FIL decided to pick her up last weekend, not to mention that she drank while I was in FL. So, yeah, well, that's about all I have to say about that.

And in an apparent effort to ensure my slacker status, I managed to get myself knocked up again. So, you'll have plenty of whiny bitchy preggo posts to look forward to.