Just Another Day

I needed a change, my friends. Mindlessly trying to find colors and typing in HTML code was a nice mind-clearing task. I am doing ok. I had a lovely long day yesterday of being utterly alone, and there is something about being utterly alone for a long period of time that helps you to work out the things whirling around in your brain. Luckily for me, my brain is no longer whirling, just sort of doing some slow circles. Let me just say though, that I have the best readers friends on the whole of the internets. However, nothing will pull you back into the reality of your daily existence quite like your four year old opening up his bedroom door in the middle of the night and peeing on the best wool runner in the house. God, I love that kid.

One of Hubba-hubba's favorite stories of the birth of Mr. Personality was that it took about three doctors to pull him out of me. Apparently, he didn't really want to leave. And this baby tried its hardest not to leave as well, but after seven weeks of fighting to stay, lost that fight last night. I think that words kind of fail me to describe what it was like to be pregnant, and then less than three hours later, not be pregnant anymore. I would like to think I am lucky that it occurred in the late hours of the night, as my tired mind valiantly attempted to just sort of block out what was going on. Pure exhaustion took over at about 3am and I was at least able to sleep. To literally feel a life leaving your body is mind and soul wrenching to a degree I never knew existed. It is an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I look back on how I handled things, especially telling people right away that I was pregnant. Having been through a successful pregnancy, I guess I

Lest anyone think I had a terrible vacation, I really didn't. I enjoy Northern California and its differences from my native SoCal. It's much more laid back, has way more trees, and slightly better weather. It took us three entire hours just to get from Orange County out of LA county, which is well under 100 miles. It only took us four hours to traverse the rest of the way, which tells you something about LA traffic, which is insane. I always marvel at the Central Valley when I travel through it. It's vast expanses of farmland basically feed the United States. People love to knock California, but they should really take another look at how lost the rest of the country would be without us. Seriously. Friday night saw us dining with a friend at Skates on the Bay, which we were hideously underdressed for, being still in the clothes that we traveled in for almost eight hours. With prices ranging from 15 dollars to 50 dollars, we looked a tad bit like some homeless peopl

Warning: If you don't like reading about semi-gory things, then discontinue reading! I mentioned in the last few posts that I am bleeding. And as a pregnant woman, that doesn't exactly make me comfortable, if you know what I mean. And before, the bleeding was sort of spotty and even though you looked and went, oh, ok, that's blood, it wasn't like ohmigod, BlOOD! You know of which I speak, right? Well, over the vacation, it turned into amounts of blood that just disturbed me. I have always had low-level cramping since the beginning of this, and on days when I did too much, it got worse. Add to the fact that my poor son threw up twice in two nights at auntie's house, and the signal to me was go home, young old young-ish yet old-ish woman. So when we got to familiar ground, we went to the urgent care clinic, which is one step below emergency room. Because I'm really not gushing or anything, but I'm not feeling great, either. We go in and let me tell you,

I would like to thank everyone so much for their words of comfort and well wishes. They mean so much to me, my friends. We are going ahead with the vacation as planned, partly because we would lose close to a thousand dollars, and for what? For me to sit around home and mope? No, better to go and relax, and if something should happen, it's going to happen no matter where I am. Better that Mr. P not be around to witness it anyway. At least, that is our thinking. But, the heck if I am going to leave everyone in a cloud of gloom until I get back on Tuesday. So, my question is: Are you a hugger?

I don't normally post in the middle of the day, but earlier this morning I had to go to the OB/GYN. Why? Because I have been bleeding intermittently for the past two days, and while not exactly feeling doubled over from cramps, haven't exactly felt stellar, either. So there is this big to-do because they want to get me in to be seen, yet the earliest appointment will mean that Hubba-hubba has to take off work to pick up Mr. P from Tiny Tots and I'm thinking this is just a big hullabaloo over nothing. Well, maybe not. I haven't talked to anyone except Hubba-hubba yet, as almost everyone is at work, and I feel I need to sort this out before I go hysterical on someone over the phone. Which I may or may not do. The OB went ahead and did an ultrasound, and I will tell you my experience, and you, the wise internets, can tell me if I should be hysterical or not. The order of likelikhood of each of these is in descending order, meaning that according to the OB, the first is th

Have you ever been invited to a wedding where you thought, this couple just isn't gonna make it? Even though you hope they will, there is a ton of evidence pointing to the fact that they are flying in the face of the odds? Well, for me that wedding is two weeks from now. And it is the wedding of Hubba-hubba's youngest brother. Now, before you say, fie on you Gina, you pessimist! Or, hey you bitter old woman, how can you say such things when we all know that love conquers all? Let me 'splain. 1) Brother has been a raging alcoholic for over ten years and when I say raging, I mean time in the slammer for multiple DUI's. He was only sober for two months when he proposed to her. And she accepted! That right there makes little warning bells go off in my head. 2) Relationships are not always smooth, I understand that better than anyone. However, homegirl actually hurled her engagement ring at him in a fight, and it rolled somewhere and they never found it. Thus, a new

Because of people like this . If time is precious, I can sum it up for you. Basically, there are a bunch of Democrats out there who are unsatisfied with the pool of Democratic candidates running for president, and so will choose to vote for a Republican if their "unfavorite" candidate wins the party nomination. My screams of indignation could be heard down the street. People, people! At this point, ANY Democrat is better than ANY Republican. Period, the end. Do we really want the Republicans who have made a shambles of this country in a mere eight years, to have a crack at another four? I am over here ripping my hair out. You see, that is the difference between Dems and Repubs. Democrats are too damn open-minded for their own good. They will actually weigh individual candidates and vote for people on perceived individual merit. Meanwhile, most Republicans vote a straight party ticket and that is why they keep on winning ! I see nothing particularly more redeeming in t

As I watched the huge ants scramble all over the front seat of our car, I tried to remind myself that I love my husband. I needed to repeat that quite a bit to myself, as it was his fault that they were there in the first place. You see, about six weeks ago, we bought Mr. P an ant farm. We have no pets, and I was interested to see the level of involvement from him. Granted, you can't really interact with ants the way you can a puppy, but it was just sort of a little test I wanted to conduct. So, we sent in the little coupon for the ants, since when you buy the kit at Target, it obviously does not include live ants. We waited, and waited and waited, until finally they arrived about three days ago. Why I thought we would be getting the type of ants that run around our yard, I'm not really sure. Dude, these ants are the kind that they used to use for horror movies. They have huge abdomens, huge heads and huge legs. Ok, the dang things are just huge. They sort of creep me o

Please? Pretty please? Mel is winning by just one percentage point, and today is the last day of voting! Go here to help her win $500. Just scroll down do Melodee H. and click. That's it. She has promised me chicken nuggets if she wins, so come on, people! Mama wants some deep fried stuff she can dip in ranch!

What do you collect? And, do my Fariy Blogmother and me a big favor, please? Can you go to this link and click on the picture that says Melodee H.? No registering or anything of the sort needed, just click! She is tied with another entrant, and if she wins, she gets $500!

The other day I was at the park with Mr. P, and I struck up a conversation with another mother. Somehow we got to talking about money, or lack thereof, or wanting moreof, when she confessed to taking out bills from the mail before her husband got home and hiding them from him. I didn't tell her, "What the hell are you thinking, woman?" But I should have. Because really, why do so many couples have trouble dealing with money? The vast majority of people possess a finite amount of it. So I am thinking that when you are looking at your bank statement and see various chunks of cash missing, then there might be some sort of a problem going on. Money tends to be the number one thing that couples fight about, although all the experts say that it isn't really about money. But that's the thing about money, it is so damn convenient to fight over. We all make ill-advised purchases from time to time, and it can be quite satisfying to hurl the accusation of self-indulgen

I was tagged by the irrepressible Dr. Bobita to do this BlogRhet meme. 1. Go back to first or early post. How would you describe your voice back in those early days? My first post was extremely lame. It was about me eating Mr. P's Halloween candy for him, as he was all of like, two years old and certainly wasn't going to eat all the candy he had brought home. I remember being extremely nervous, like I was flashing everyone on the Internet. I don't know why, but I thought, oooh, hundreds, if not thousands of people are going to see this post. As you can see, I have always had an inflated sense of self-importance. In the beginning, it was just me trying to crack myself up, or try to lay out ideas I thought were important. But, my voice was similar to what it is now, trying to strike a balance between smart-ass and smart. Who were you writing to? What was your sense of audience (if any) back then? Uh, I think at that point, I was writing to Mel , my Fairy Blogmother. Sh

I am five weeks along in my pregnancy, or something of the sort. Supposedly, my due date is Feb. 11. We'll see, babies have a way of doing unexpected things. This child will make me a mother of a newborn again at 36, less than a month away from 37. Somehow, for utterly no rational reason, that makes me feel better. I find myself much more relaxed with this second child. With Mr. P, I constantly had my nose buried in "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and stressed out over every possible thing that could go wrong. Oh my god, I ate babybel cheese, was that considered soft cheese? Had I just doomed my child? Did my sister unknowingly serve me cold cuts? The end of the world was at hand! The list went on and on. This time, while I wouldn't say my attitude is "eh," I am certainly not tying myself into knots. Which is rather refreshing, really. I'm just going to show up at my appointments and just sort of let it flow. I am a blessed pregnant

I almost hesitated to write this, because I'm not really sure what it says about my dear son. But, it is vintage Mr. P, so for the ages, I have to record this, good or bad. Last Friday his preschool had an end-of-the-year picnic. They had bounce houses for all the kids, and if there's anything Mr. P loves, it's bouncing around. So, he dragged his best buddy N into one of them, and they commenced having a grand old time. N's mom was off chasing after her toddler, so I was watching both boys. I see N climb out of the bounce house, a dejected look on his face. He is sitting on the little step that you climb on to get into the bounce house. I am confused, because I figure if he doesn't want to bounce anymore, why stay right on the step? He sits there for quite a while, with the same look on his face. I walk up to him and try to ask him if there is anything wrong. Well, N can be shy at times, even though he knows me. So, he was mumbling something that I didn&#

#2 in a public restroom- it has to be an emergency or is it no big deal?

No, just kidding! I love being tagged for memes, and I was tagged for the same 8 Things meme by both Ginger and Margaret . And because you gals rock, I will give you not just eight, but six-damn-teen things about me. 1. When I was a junior in high school, I deluded myself (and my parents) into thinking I had enough discipline and ambition to become a lawyer. My school was sponsoring a trip to our state capital, Sacramento, to see the inner workings of our government. What exactly that had to do with being a lawyer, I'm not sure, but I got to go. It was a blast. 2. I ADORE the Playmobile toy sets. Mr. P has two or three. I love them for the authenticity of all the little things, from teensy pirate candelabra to little tubes to hook up to the medical evacuee in the helicopter. Sometimes when my son is asleep, I will play with them. 3. I hate coffee. I like tea. Cold tea. I can drink hot tea sometimes, but almost always prefer it iced. 4. When I was about 9 years old, I w

That's a grabber of a title, isn't it? I thought so, too. This Thursday will mark my son's first ever graduation. From preschool. Except the kicker is, he isn't really "graduating" at all. He will be going from a three day preschool to what is called "junior kindergarten." But it's still preschool. So why go through the rigamarole of having some sort of yet-to-be-seen ceremony where they gush about how wonderful he was painting barnyard animals and climing up the ladder on the playground? It makes no sense to me. I never had a graduation ceremony until I was in 8th grade and entering high school. There was no preschool, kindergarten, or elementary school graduation held at my school. We had a chintzy naming of names and scholarships during the school day, I might add, and that was that. No caps, no gowns, no pomp and circumstance. And really, I think that is the way it should be. We as a culture are so into affirming our children at the

I was joking with Hubba-hubba this morning when the test came out positive that after this, he is going to have to get himself snipped because we are obviously some kind of super-fertile couple. Ok, well, maybe I wasn't really joking. I never expected to get pregnant the first month trying, but what can I say? I'm just that good.