Babymoon

Al and I were able to go on a cruise to the Bahamas this last month.  We have been saying we need to go on a vacation to celebrate finishing school for the last year and a half pretty much, but we never really got around to planning anything. So finally we just booked a cruise which happened to be the perfect time to go as it will be harder once we have a kid, and I barely made the cruise deadline before I was too far along to be allowed. Even though this trip was meant to celebrate graduating, it pretty much became our "babymoon" you could say.

Now, it would take me super long to write about everything that happened, so I'm just going to post a few pictures to commemorate the event. Plus I've always thought reading about other people's vacations  is boring anyway.

 Leaving Miami..and looking large

Formal Night 

We loooved kayaking and playing with prickly sea things in the clear water

There's the belly 

 24 weeks! And here you can see my blotchy face: for some reason the humidity or salt or something made my face chap horribly. I betcha wanted to know that.

 I just couldn't get over this towel animal. I still think it's adorable

 Blue water of Nassau 

And here we have a blurry picture of Al on the Red Coach bus we randomly had to take to Tampa from Miami in order to get home. Long story short we flew standby and all the flights from Miami were full for days sooooo...we got off the ship pretty much having no idea how we were going to get home. Lucky we found this bus (which btw had SUPER comfy seats and wifi, who knew?), and made our way to Tampa where we were again lucky to find there is a Marriott in the airport there. So we stayed the night and got on a flight early the next morning.

So that was our adventure! The End.

Prego Problems

         So, I actually wrote this a month or so ago, but never posted it. I was too lazy too add anything to is so I just decided to post it as is, random and all.

          I realize I have been horrible at documenting this pregnancy. Basically I’ve already forgotten what the first 12 weeks were even like, so I should maybe be a bit better. But right now I have no cute or fancy ideas on how to document what has happened so far sooo…I guess I’ll just write what’s on my mind right now which is the fact that apparently being prego makes me supppper clumsy. Like, not even my usual slightly uncoordinated self, like, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t repeat some of the things I’ve done if I’d tried. So here are a few for your reading pleasure:

         I drop things. Like, all the time. It’s almost like I just forget to close my hand around things when I grab them. A few nights ago I was making spaghetti. I thought I would take the easy way out and just use some Ragu sauce rather than actually cooking. So I got the glass jar out of my cupboard, and, can you guess what happened? Bam! Apparently I forgot to actually wrap my fingers around the jar and of course glass and bright red spaghetti sauce went EVERYWHERE on my tile floor. Needless to say it took a while to clean up. Once I was done I was still in a pretty good mood so I figured it was a sign I should probably not eat fake spaghetti sauce anyway, and I proceeded to make my own spaghetti sauce. It took another while, but once I was done I thought it turned out pretty good! I even put zucchini in it. (Actually, I put zucchini in everything nowadays because we literally have zucchini piled on all surfaces of our kitchen.) Anyway. I was all proud and dished up the extremely delicious smelling spaghetti and was about to put it on the table when….Bam! I didn’t get a good enough grip on the first plate and all the food slid off of it onto my counter, so I quickly turned to save it and…Splat! All the spaghetti on the other plate I was holding slid off and splattered all over my floor…that I just cleaned… Yeah. I was done at that point. And you know what? I thought to myself, this food is hot, and I just thoroughly cleaned the floor. So yes, yes I did just scoop it up and eat it. Judge all you want but I was NOT going to cook anything else that night.

         I no longer have a sense of where my belly is. That might sound weird. But my belly seems to have popped out almost overnight. So I will be washing the dishes and then realize that my entire shirt is soaked because I’ve been letting my stomach rest on the edge of the sink. Not only that, but the other morning I was cooking French toast, and silly me, forgetting I have this massive swell coming out of my abdomen, stood too close to the pan without even realizing it until I felt a sharp pain and figured out that I had just burned my belly on a frying pan.

         I stubbed my toe on myself yesterday. I didn’t know this was a thing, but it happened. Somehow as I was walking, I managed to stub my left toe on my right heel. I hurt a little, but I just carried right on and forgot about it. Until I looked down 10 minutes later and realized that I had blood seeping down my heel. Maybe it’s time to give the toenails a good trim?

A Low Point

As part of the remodel being done at my work, a couple weeks ago they were painting.

Background story: Last time I was exposed to paint for an extended amount of time I broke out into a horrible purple rash and, in an attempt to get rid of it, my mom made me go sit outside with these giant 80’s biking sunglasses on for an entire day. Not sure how the sunglasses were supposed to help, but I was desperate enough to try anything at that point. I guess I should mention that the next day was my very first day of high school. And sitting outside with giant 80’s biking sunglasses did not help.

With that lovely story in mind, let’s fast forward to the painting project that was happening at my work. Needless to say, sitting there sniffing paint fumes 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, I was not a happy camper. Thankfully I did not get a repeat of the horrible purple rash (though I did get a giant hive under my left eye), but I did get a nasty splitting headache every day that I sat in that smell.  Nothing worked to ventilate the smell either. I even left the door to the office building open for an entire day, but I eventually had to close it because people kept wandering in from off the street asking me to throw away stuff…or give them a job.

Anyway. One of those days I left work with a horrible headache. And I was not in a happy mood. And I needed to go to the store because we were out of bread. And I still had a giant hive under my left eye.  Reluctantly and painfully, I found a parking spot 5000 miles away from the store because it is always super crowded at 5 pm, and I drug myself inside over to the bread section, hoping to be able to just swipe some Grandma Sycamore bread and run home to my giant luv sac and some Harry Potter.  

Unfortunately, I was delayed by a girl on her phone blocking my Grandma Sycamore with both her body and her cart, and, to make it even worse, she apparently though that wearing leggings as pants is an okay thing to do. I literally stood there, hatefully analyzing every lump and bit of cottage cheese on her rear end that was accented by her slightly see-through, way-too-tight legging things that she thought were pants. The angle of her cart made it impossible for me to reach my bread, and I didn’t think I could handle human interaction without exploding. So I just stood there, glaring, while my eye-hive throbbed with loathing. I imagine I looked like some sort of rabid wild animal. I’m sure she thought that I was crazy.

Eventually she realized I was there, gave me the up-down, and left. Needless to say I snatched my bread and got out of there like the wind.

Fun Facts You Probably Never Wanted to Know

Of course I had to write something sappy about my man on our anniversary, but now I will write a few things we have learned about each other in the last two years. 

1. Al, coming from an all-boys family, has finally accepted that I cannot get ready for anything as fast as him. It was initially very shocking to him that it takes me longer than 5 minutes to shower, wash my hair, and shave my legs. Luckily, after realizing that my legs are literally half my body and my hair is 20x longer than his (my head hair that is, not leg hair…usually), I think he is beginning to accept this.

2. I cut Al’s toenails for him. Gross? Probably. I actually hate feet, so it must really show my love for him that I tolerate his. Really I do it because he had a habit of cutting them into points and I got sick of him scratching me with them at night.

3. I have a suspicion that this is true with many husbands, but even though Al and I live in the same house, he somehow has no ability to recollect where anything goes. Not that he doesn’t put anything away, he is actually probably neater than me, but every week after we do the laundry I have to go show him where his clean jeans are in his drawer. The same drawer they are in all the time.  The same rule applies for anything in the kitchen.

4. I was pretty naïve getting married in March…I apparently didn’t realize what a big deal March Madness is. Al was pretty good at abstaining from watching basketball 24/7 just after we got married, but at one year in I knew I was doomed into watching at least 3 games a day on and around our anniversary. Good thing I do enjoy sports (in small doses) when I get sick of it we have learned to go our separate ways and I end up watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch on Hulu while Al’s beloved teams are playing.

5. Poor Al didn’t know what he was getting himself into when it came to my hair. I have to admit he takes it pretty well when he always has to unclog drains and finds strands of hair in his salad. I like to tell him when he is at work and finds my hair in his beard that I’m just marking my territory. 

6. I have realized that although he seems all mature and responsible on the surface, he is definitely a kid at heart...like a let's-go-build-a-snow fort-in-this-blizzard sort of kid at heart.

That's Why He's My Man

As a belated anniversary post, I figured I would write all about how I have a pretty dang awesome husband, so if you are not into super cute/mushy posts, I invite you to stop reading here. I will give you a less mushy version of our life after. Promise.

Number one:  Al takes care of me. We avoided getting sick for most of the winter, but sadly that came to an end a few weeks ago when we both developed a nasty sort of lung gunk cold. Somehow this affected me more than him (or maybe I’m just a whiner), and one night I could NOT for the life of me stop coughing. I kept having dreams that I needed to cough, so I just kept coughing and coughing…it was horrible.  Just when I was getting ready to rip my throat out, poor Al, who of course could not sleep through the noise, got up and made me some herbal tea. He then made me a little bed in our living room so I could watch something to get my mind off of my throat problems, put Harry Potter on for me (he knows how Harry Potter just makes me so happy), and even still came out to sleep next to me so I wouldn’t be alone.

Number two: Al makes me laugh. Here’s a fun fact you may or may not know about Al: he likes to make up songs…and has some pretty legit dance moves. Here’s another fun fact: he is pretty much tone deaf (although, he’s been practicing, and has improved greatly since we’ve been married).  Whenever I am being a grump Al breaks out into a song about how I’m being a grump and ads his own (quite impressive) dance moves.  He gets so enthusiastic about it I just can’t help but laugh. Someday I hope to get a video of this, but he stops immediately whenever I get out any form of recording device, so for now you will have to take my word for it. Although this picture makes me laugh too:

Number three: We make a good team. We make such a good team, that we should get jerseys (like that one song says…).  Seriously though, I know we look absolutely nothing alike, but we are both just the right amount of 1^st grade humor, and stubbornness to make it work. So glad I married this guy:

Special

At work we are doing a little (huge) remodel. I get to sit in a big open area with no doors or heat that is directly in the construction zone. Literally I come home covered in dust every day, in fact I probably shouldn’t drive because my contacts are pretty much coated white when I take them out….

Anyway, not only am I getting what I think is the black lung from inhaling so much sheet rock dust, but because random people are coming in and out so much, I’ve begun talking to all the construction guys in grunts:

Guy walks in

Him: nod of the head

Me: grunt (meaning hello)

Me (in my head to myself): really? Did you just grunt?

Guy walks out to go to lunch

Him: nod of the head

Me: grunt in acknowledgment that he exists

Me (in head to self): Really? I just did that again? K, next time I will really make an effort to use my words

Guy walks back in

Him: nod of the head

Me: try to say hi, but it gets stuck in my throat on the way out and sounds like a boy in puberty grunting.

I then gave up and went for a half closed-mouth smile that probably makes me look like a socially awkward pre teen on the verge of crying.

  

I imagine it looks something like this:

The end.

My Life is Boring to Everyone but Me

Well I've been meaning to get back to the blog for a while now, but every time I try to write something I realize that I have absolutely no idea what to write about. I thought to myself that once I was done with school I would be able to write all the time because, I mean, really what else would I have to do?….no more tests, no more homework, no more spending all my time procrastinating my homework. Really I should have all the time in the world, right?

Well, yes…I do have more time. Generally I spend my time procrastinating going to the gym rather than putting off homework. However, I have realized that my life has gotten, if possible, even more uneventful.
For example: Back in post high school through getting married I could talk about all the cool things I did plus dating, which always makes for some good stories (even though I didn’t even have a blog then…I could have if I’d wanted to!) Like, that time I dumped a frosty on Abby’s head. ( I had a picture of this, but I'm too lazy to find it right now).
Or that other time that guy I was dating got married. While we were dating.

It was weird, like this picture I randomly found on google.

Or when we got engaged.

 Hmmm someday I will have to write that story anyway I guess.

Anyway, but then, when I was in school I could talk about how on one day of the week my first class was full of feminist hipster tattoo-covered people who spend their time listening to indie music and interpreting contemporary art, and arguing why you shouldn’t get married. And how in my very next class (that was still for my same major, I might add), I counted 4 young prego married girls, and we had intense discussions on fairy tales and why or why not Jon Travolta is gay. I could also talk about how nearly every day I was just about killed by long boarders. Especially the one who would read a book and text simultaneously as he booked it down a steep hill.

So now, what do I do? I go to work all day long. 5 days a week. And see the same four people every day. I mean, I guess I could talk about that one guy who works with me that never talks. And his office smells (suspiciously) like burning herbs, but that would get old.
So, until the day we have kids and I can be like all those coooool mommy-bloggers who write about how their kid pooed under the bed today, promise I will try to keep it as interesting as possible. Any ideas, all you blogging experts?