Sad Day.

Yesterday, my little family hunkered down in our little house while tornadoes ripped apart the Southeast. We somehow never lost power, and stared in horror as we watched the destruction happen live -- only a few miles away-- on the TV.

I really dreaded going to work today. I'm an insurance adjuster. Everyone I spoke with was hysterical, and for good reason. I'm empathetic by nature and for that reason I find my job exhausting. I'd like to say that I was happy to be able to help people in a small way, but all I really wanted to do was go home and hug my little boy over and over again.

I'll be working 12-hour days without a day off in sight until further notice. This concludes my report.

The Beach.

I'm back from a much-needed vacation. It was entirely too short. Also, I got sick at the end which totally sucked. I wanted to spend one more day working on my tan, but instead I spent it on the couch. LAME.

At least my mother was there to take care of me. When I got home, I was on my own. Husband gets weird when I'm sick. It makes him nervous. Luckily, when I don't feel well, I tend to just go in a hole and don't come out until I'm better. I don't expect him to make me tea or toast or anything (like my mother would do).

I made it to 22 weeks! Only 18 more to go. I am so thankful that we got to get away as a family before the baby arrives. I got to soak up a lot of quality time with my firstborn.

Sidenote: I got my hair colored last Thursday and it's way blonde. Does it look gray to you?! I might need to go back to have something done about that.

By Easter, Husband was badly burned.

I'm a lucky lady. Look at that hunk of man meat! I don't need him to make me toast. Just looking at this picture I took of him on the pier makes me feel much better.

While we were away, we let my parents babysit while we went shopping and to dinner. I actually had a few hours where I:

1. forgot that I was pregnant.

2. didn't have to tell a little person "it's not your turn to talk" or "please don't interrupt."

People, having a conversation when there is a 2-year-old in the room is almost impossible. It was SO nice to have a break with my husband. We're already planning to take a child-free vacation next summer. It's a year away and I CANNOT WAIT. 

It takes a lot of effort to maintain normalcy when children are involved. I try to just embrace the madness ... but sometimes it's good to have a break. Even if it's just dinner at Bahama Bob's.

Now I'm going back to bed ...

Mother's Day In.

Ugh … daycare. How I loathe and love you.

The hardest part of being a working mommy is the issue of childcare. I love to work, but I hate leaving my son. It sent me into a major depression-like funk for the entire first year of his life because I was so laden with guilt over it. We did our best to choose the best possible daycare for him, but no matter how wonderful the staff, or how much fun he seemed to have, I still felt like I was falling way short as a mother.

Read the rest here!

Mortification on a Tuesday.

Some forms of embarrassment simply cannot be avoided.

Today, when I picked up ONE, his teacher greeted me by smiling and taking a deep breath. That is never a good sign. I braced myself. She seemed like she didn't know quite how to tell me what happened. 

I waited.

You see, ONE has a friend who has a lisp. This friend happens to be obsessed with Thomas the Train, just like ONE. In case you aren't familiar, Thomas the Train has all kinds of other train friends ... and one in particular is named Percy. 

Unfortunately, The Lisper pronounces Percy incorrectly. I imagine he pronounces a lot of words incorrectly, but I hope for his mother's sake most of them don't sound like slang for lady parts. And, unfortunately for me, my son is a great imitator.

Today, at naptime, ONE yelled out "I LOVE PUSSY!"

If you're looking for me, I'm currently hiding under a rock.

(source)

Silent Treatment.

Have you ever given someone the silent treatment without them knowing it?

I have.

Nostalgia ...

I never put together a wedding album. I never started a "baby book" for ONE, or put together a photo album for him.

I suck.

Husband did something to our computer about a year ago and all of our pictures got misplaced. After months of reminding, he finally unearthed them and restored them to the computer. I WILL make an album for ONE before TWO arrives. 

Looking at the pictures made me feel wistful. Husband and I need to get away together. We didn't vacation a ton before we started a family, mostly because we were really freaking poor, but we did stuff. It was fun. I can see how couples let years slip by without making time for each other because it's really hard to put everyone else aside and make it a priority! 

I also believe that parenthood has aged us quite a bit. I'm still coping with that realization ...

Here we are on a cruise just days before we found out I was pregnant with ONE.

And then ...

And a very long and difficult time later ...

Sometimes I wish I could slow life down a little.

Today's Obsession.

Publix brand pear vanilla lowfat yogurt. I don't know why, but it's really tasty.

I wish I had about 4 more containers of this stuff.

Names.

The naming process has begun.

I have an unusual name. We like uncommon names in our house, which we exhibited when ONE was born. In fact, we kept the name a secret until his arrival simply because we didn't care to hear the feedback from other people.

People annoy me with their unwelcome opinions. But you see, once a baby is born and officially named, all (most) people will say is "oh!" or, "that's nice!" if they don't like the name.

I've started a list of names that we will NOT be naming this baby. I was inspired by my job ... I talk to the good people of Alabama and Mississippi all day long. You can do with that what you will.

** Please don't take offense if your name is listed here.

Granvil
Stedman
Ernest
Diamario
Harry
Jesus

My Weekend.



(source)

 Here's a summary of my weekend:

1. I purchased this dry shampoo for $8.99 at Target. I can't wait to try it! I have a feeling it will be a life changer ... much like the discovery of earplugs.

2. After searching for three hours (!!!) at several department stores for a new bra, I finally broke down and went to Motherhood Maternity, home of the $50 bra, where the nice lady measured me and kindly gave me my "correct size."

3. My "correct size" can only be purchased at specialty stores.

4. It also starts with the letter "F," as in, "FAT chance you'll get out of this without looking like one of those National Geographic women."

5. We watched the movie Shutter Island. DO NOT watch this movie if you are pregnant, or have children. It was awful.

6. All I can think about is my freakishly large chest, and that horrible movie.

7. I managed to get off my ass and make a batch of tuna salad. This marks the first thing I've cooked from scratch in exactly three weeks.

8. It's entirely possible that I'll eat all of it by myself.

Saturday.

And I leave you with this.

Sexyback.

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.

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!

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!!!

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.

Tuesday's Thought.

Power Mama, Meet Super Mom.

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.

Confession.

I purchased a pair of Mama Power maternity Spanx. I am, in fact, wearing them now.

More to follow.

Desperate Times.

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.

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.