Monthly Archives: April 2011

Sexyback.

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I have been in a FOUL mood this week. I can’t seem to snap out of it. I really think it’s because of work-related exhaustion/stress … I can’t seem to catch up on anything in my life: sleep, laundry, groceries, my workload at the office. I haven’t cooked in weeks.

This morning I was getting ready to go to work … again … yes, on a Saturday … and things just came to a head. I snapped at Husband, was impatient with ONE, slammed doors and ran around like a mad woman. Our a/c is broken and it’s HOT. I was sweating and pissed off. It was one of those times where I feel like I’m doing everything, I’m too frustrated to ask for help, and I feel overwhelmed. It comes across as general bitchiness.

After I exited the house and got in my car, I saw that Husband had driven it last night and returned it with the gas tank on empty. That little thing just sent me over the edge.

I cried. Then I felt like a big fat wad of pathetic. I was wallowing in misery wondering when and how I was going to manage to snap out of it when something magical happened.

Justin Timberlake.

(source)

Sexyback came on the radio. I haven’t heard that song since the last time I worked out with my ipod. And that’s been a L-O-N-G time.

Justin is better than a hearty dose of Prozac. Here he is, waving at me.

Hi, Justin.

My Nemesis.

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Several weeks ago I wrote a glowing post about some jeans that I found at A Pea In The Pod. I loved the first pair so much, my mother mailed me a second pair.

All was fine and good until last week when I discovered said jeans (both pairs of them) were getting … snug. I finally accepted that our relationship was just not going to continue to work unless I started hanging them up to dry. I have quite the collection of “hang-dry only” clothes that I’m actually too big to wear, but I just can’t say goodbye to them yet.

Fast forward to this morning.

I accidentally dried my jeans last night.

I was determined to put them on my body anyway.

DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO SQUEEZE INTO TOO-TIGHT PANTS WHILST OILED UP WITH COCOA BUTTER?

It’s a BITCH. But I did it.

I won. And I’ll be wearing a dress tommorrow.

IT’S A … BOY!

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We’re having another boy! May I introduce to you … TWO.

We laughed hysterically after we left the ultrasound room, because ONE is such a boy and he’s such a handful. We can’t imagine having that times two.

I forsee a lot of bumps and bruises, screaming banshees, Lego wars, Superman capes, gallons and gallons of milk, and dirt in our future. I told Husband we have to move. We need land. And possibly a barn.












TODAY IS THE DAY!!!

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This afternoon, we will find out the gender of TWO … if he/she cooperates. I plan to pump myself full of sugar before my appointment to ensure optimal movement.

Here’s what I’m looking like at 19 weeks.


































I’m finding that the clothes that I’m wearing now are the clothes I was wearing at about 26 weeks with ONE, so by the middle of my 3rd trimester I’m going to have to buy new clothes because none of my old ones are going to fit.

Also, I have begun rolling out of bed. Literally.



Power Mama, Meet Super Mom.

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Here they are. My new friends.

I look just like this lady when I put them on. Skinny everywhere, except for my tummy.

Okay … that was a lie. But I must say, these things are comfy. Getting them on my body was a struggle I wish I hadn’t undertaken in front of an audience (ONE and Husband sat staring while I wrangled myself into them), but … you live, you learn.

I also wanted to introduce to you “Super Mom.” This is is what will happen postpartum. 

I’ll be topless with a cape.






























Sara Blakely, I love you.

Desperate Times.

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It’s 8:30 on Sunday morning, and I have already pulled out the paint.  Why? Because I have been up for 2 hours and I have run out of ideas of things to occupy ONE so I can have a moment.

Husband was at work all day yesterday and he’s currently sleeping in. I am about to lose my mind.

Bathroom Etiquette.

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At my office, we have a smallish bathroom in our department. It has 4 stalls.

This is the bathroom that is meant for makeup application, gossip, the occasional emotional breakdown, and peeing. If you need to poop, you walk on down to the BIG, loud, and busy bathroom down the hall. There are lots of stalls and toilets that automatically flush with a suction that reminds me of the airport.

There is even a can of air freshener in the farthest-away stall. That is the stall you visit if you’re planning to stay awhile. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, there’s a magazine in there.

It’s UNSPOKEN. But it’s a rule.

I caught on to this office etiquette quickly, within the first week of working here. However, there are still MANY of my co-workers who still don’t get it. People who have worked here for years. They continue to poop in the wrong bathroom. Repeatedly. And that is a problem.

There is nothing worse than standing at the bathroom mirror trying to correct an eyeliner blunder when someone is pooping several feet away. There are only 4 stalls. So the Pooper is essentially only a few feet away. It’s quiet in there. I might as well be in the stall with her.

This bothers me.

Why is it so hard to walk a few extra steps to the right bathroom? Also, why do some people never catch on to unspoken etiquette? That is my real concern.

That is all. And happy Friday.