Go Cubs Go!!

So Workaholic and I are pretty laid back, and when my brother-in-law asked if we wanted to go to the Cubs game on Sunday, I was all in. Who wants to hang out at the lake when you can be sitting in the third row??? Yeah, it was awesome…

Jeff Samardzija was totally checking my pregnant self out… (or perhaps he was checking out my newly well-endowed chest...)

Happy Day

On a happy note, I was only five minutes late to work today!!

On a happier note, I think I may buy my first ever Sports Illustrated this month…I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed watching him kick ass in all 17 races. Especially when he wore the swimsuit that was only bottoms....

Surfing

So you all hear me talk about surfing...here is a video of my brother-in-law working his magic. The next guy Max also lives on the lake...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgxih56Dgz0
(I haven't figured out in the past 5 minutes how to just put the actual video on the site...sorry!)

Dreams and stuff

So I’ve been having these really weird, f-d up dreams lately. Some of them are pregnancy related, some are not. Many of them have to do with the end of the world…which probably could be interpreted to me being scared about having a baby. (I mean eeks! I am personally responsible for entertaining this thing for the next 18 years, and along the way, make sure I don’t kill it by letting it eat lead paint and jump off the roof of the house, and at the same time make sure that I am creating a productive member of society.) (and yes, I often do refer to the baby as it…purely out of laziness…it’s a lot easier to say or type “it” than “the baby” over and over) (and since we aren’t going to find out what it is, it’s an it until it’s a him or her…you know, when it’s screaming it’s head off because it doesn’t want to come out) On that note, my friend told me that the baby won’t come out screaming, it’ll come out yelling “FFUUUUUCCK!!!” (guess whose been dropping the f-bomb a lot lately?)

Oftentimes, I’ll wake up in the morning and have to lie in bed trying to decipher my dream. This has caused me to be late for work, oh…every day in the past 3 weeks. Today I was a half hour late. Oops. I’ll also compose my blog in my head at that time, and then promptly forget what ever I was going to type as soon as my feet hit the floor. So instead of you guys getting a genius incredible blog from me at 8am, you get crap at 4pm. Sorry ‘bout that.

So I’ve been reading a new blog lately, and even though this chick totally does NOT need a plug from me, who gets no comments on her blog, (she gets about 500+ a day), I have to link to her. I want to be her…at least take her pictures and get to stay home and blog all day. She makes enough money off of the advertising from her blog that her husband was able to quit his job. Seriously??? (and if you were wondering, no, I don’t have any advertising on my site…mainly because I wouldn’t know how to do it…I don’t have my own personal IT department in my head) Her name is Heather and this is her website…check out her Daily Chuck, which are pictures of her dogs, and her Daily Photo, which are other pictures, that I haven’t really looked at. She’s pretty cool, ya know, for a Mormon. (or ex-Mormon…at least non-practicing Mormon)

Boys will be boys

I never really realized it, but my husband and his brothers are really kind of funny.

While surfing over the weekend with a friend on the lake, the friend asked, “If you have any pointers or see anything that I am doing wrong, feel free to speak up.” BIL’s response? “Surf better.” Really?? Surf better?? Thanks! Amazingly enough? It worked! (although I feel that my advice to “widen your stance” was probably more beneficial, but “surf better” may have helped too) (also keep in mind that I have never actually let go of the rope while surfing and these guys are heads and shoulders above anything that I will probably ever be able to do on a surfboard behind a boat…but I’ve watched enough people get up, fall, get up, let go, fall, etc. that I feel like I’ve picked up a few things)

After watching Michael Phelps win his record tying 7th gold medal by less than one one-hundredth of a second on Friday, my husband says…
“He didn’t break the world record? What a failure.”
(the fact that Michael Phelps can swim faster than he could ever run is besides the point)

My youngest BIL has too many off the wall one-liners to think of…but my drive to dinner Saturday night re-assured me that I think I can handle being the mom of boys, if that’s what I have. I don’t know what he said, (I think it had something to do with being the best looking of the three) but the entire 20 minute drive was my husband and his brother beating on their little brother. And all I did was stay between the lines and smile…let them beat the crap out of each other, at least then they’ll leave me alone!

Ahhh...the weekend

On Saturday night, my husband turned to me and said, “You’ve just had the perfect day, haven’t you? Nobody bothered you and you got to take a nap.” Sad fact? Totally true.

I watched the Olympics for hours, I cleaned up thousands of bugs that had lost their life to our screened in porch, I cleaned & replaced the screens (that have been out of our windows for going on 4 years) and was finally allowed to have a breeze waft through my stinky house. Workaholic cares so little about sports that he totally didn’t bitch when I wanted to watch dressage and women’s basketball, but he was all about watching Misty May and Kerri Walsh play beach volleyball. Am I the only one who thinks out of all athletes, women beach volleyball players have the best bodies??? OMG…they are hot.

Sunday was different, but OK. We made the executive decision to move our bedroom to the upstairs. Which involved lots of heavy lifting, (not by me), discussions…I mean orders (yeah…by me), and many breaks to watch more Olympics (me…again). We now have a sa-weeet set-up which I will only have to leave in order to eat. And yes, we do have 2 big screen TV’s in the bedroom. (for now)

I also decided that it was time to grow up and go to church. After all, I am having a kid, and it’ll have to be baptized, and taught the fear of God. Where else can you do that other than a Catholic church???

It’s been a while since I’ve been to a church where the old people dressed to a T, yet also found it OK to talk during mass, only to complain about those around them. “I can’t believe that mother hasn’t taken that crying baby out yet.” “That sippy cup dropped on the ground and the baby just stuck it back in his mouth!” (this one was emphasized by a slap to the forehead). I also love love love the woman singing behind me an octave too high and just a little too loudly. You know who I’m talking about.

Anyway, I got my church on…although I don’t think I’ll be returning to that particular church. I listened to the readings and gospel; I really don’t need a recap in the homily. Thanks though. Next time…I’m trying out St. Michaels!

Oh boy....

Exact quote from my husband...

"Doesn't everyone have two big screen TV's in their bedroom?"

Is This a Bad Thing?

Exact quote from my husband about 10 minutes ago...

"Sweetheart, I figured out why you have been getting headaches. You been getting poisoned by carbon monoxide."

Greeaat. I hope that doesn't affect our unborn child.

Water Drama

I was all set to write a rage-y blog last night, because one of the men that I work with (he is in another town, so it’s all over phone and e-mail) called me and asked, “So am I having the prego moment, or are you?” Excuuuse me?? Just because you don’t pay attention and aren’t clear in your e-mails does NOT mean that I can’t understand you simply because I am pregnant. But then, I decided to go to bed, (because I was worn out from the hating) instead of write my angry blog.

And as I am settling in, all snuggled up, Fonz at my side, I see a flash of light and CRASH BAM BOOM!! And then pounding rain. Normally, I love summer storms…but I don’t like ones that go on for SIX HOURS. Needless to say, I did not fall asleep.

But that’s not the kicker. The power kept going on and off, and around 2:00am it went off for the last time. I asked my Workaholic ever-so-smart husband if we should be concerned about water in the basement, you know, since it had been POURING RAIN for 6 HOURS. No, he says. As long as the power keeps flashing on and off, we’ll be fine. Never mind that it had already been off for 15 minutes.

Then around 2:30am, a knock on the door. Workaholic sits up in bed (I guess he fell right to sleep…not me!) and can’t figure out what it is. Duh…it’s our neighbor, who has water in his newly finished basement, wanting to know if we had a generator. (Yes…I knew this before even answering the door, because I am a genius). So Workaholic is shocked that our neighbor has water, and heads down the basement stairs, and all I hear is Splish. Oh dear. Oh shit. Oh dear. Oh shit. What do I do now???

I have to say that I am incredibly impressed with what I saw taking place over the next 4 hours with my husband. With one simple sentence, “It’s time to go to work.” he was off. Him and the neighbor jump in the van to go get a generator, (because obviously, if you own a generator, the most sensible place to keep it is in a warehouse, 15 minutes from your house), and drive through 3 foot floodwaters to get back. They set it up, and Workaholic grabs a saw and some 2x4s to create shims to raise anything that is sitting on our basement floor. (fortunately there was only 2-3 inches of water). Then we clear out the closets, take off the doors so the bottoms don’t rot, and he heads back to the warehouse for fans and another pump. When he gets back, he goes to the most wonderfulest store on earth, (for those of you who may be confused at to which store that is, it’s the Home Depot…they normally open at 6am, but they opened early today) to get a water-getter-outer for the carpet. (at this point, at 4:30am, I finally get to sleep)

As of now…he is still working. And yes, we do have a battery back-up for the sump pump, and the only answer I got was, “It couldn’t keep up.” I think I’ll let it go at that...he’s earned it.

A dear old friend

So my Fonz met up with an old friend last night. They only meet in the shadows, right around the time I am ready to go to bed. His name is Mr. Skunk, but we prefer to call him “Oh Shit”. This is at least the third time in his life that Fonz has met his friend, and I think he is learning something.

The first time, his head was soaked and I am surprised that he was not blinded by the skunk piss. (I can still see him running drunkenly, zig-zagging across the back yard, tripping over the deck stairs in a desperate attempt to come when called) The second time, it was almost as though he had rolled in it, leading me to believe that he had dodged a direct hit, but perhaps the aroma settled on him after the fact. This time, he got a square hit…on the tail. Meaning?? My beloved Fonz was turning tail to run as fast as he could when he heard those teeth chattering in warning, but apparently he didn’t run fast enough.

My wonderful husband agreed to wash said dog, seeing as how I am in a delicate position. (I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that I’ve done this twice before, at midnight, and it was his turn and that I was perfectly capable of washing my dog’s ass, but since he volunteered and all...) So he did, and I helped by giving him the magic formula, (1 quart of 3% hydrogen peroxide, ¼ cup baking soda, and 1 teaspoon liquid dishwashing soap), and turning the hose water on and off. Aren’t I helpful??

What amazes me about the stench of Oh Shit is that it is worse than poop. It penetrates your nose, and skin, and clothes, until you are sure that you are the one who got attacked by a real life version of Flower from Bambi. All Workaholic had to do was open the door, (and promptly shut it), and within 10 seconds the smell had made its way across the house to our bedroom, (where I was reading about a woman who played animal warden and trapped skunks), and I rolled out of bed. This isn’t something that can be put off until morning.

The good news is that his tail now smells like Suave lavender conditioner, the bad news is that I think he still smells and want to bathe him again. FUN!!