Wednesday, February 17, 2010

My couch will steal your soul & my husband will break your Dyson.

A couch. I never thought a couch could be the worse thing to deal with in my house, but it was.

Please note, I live with children (including a man child), two dogs, around 8 cats on any given day. I also have a family who knows where I live. To say that a couch is the worse thing to deal with in my house is really something.

This couch was awful. It would suck up anything you laid on it. It was like the blob, even the same color of the blob I think, going around just sucking everything up. Blankets, pillow, paperwork, remotes, cell phones, toys, & a lotto ticket from April 2005...those are just a few of the things you'd often find. If something went missing in this house, Adam & I would always groan & say, "check the couch." And it wasn't as easy as moving a cushion. It was a couch that had recliners on each end. So it was basically a big, empty hole that you couldn't even get to if you wanted. Of course my favorite thing was when I was sitting on it, the cats would crawl into it from the back & claw at my ass. Yes, seriously.

I decided I wanted a new couch. I wanted something that fit our needs a little better (you try having a leather couch with pets & see what can happen to it), & something that wasn't the color of the blob. Oh, & something I could sit on without worrying that everything in my pockets would end up in it's core.

We found ourselves at a furniture store at 7pm a couple weeks ago, looking. We wanted something nice. Something not easily destroyed. And something brown. Not ugly brown though, just a nice brown to tie in the general theme of our house & something our son wouldn't stain with god only knows what in a weeks time.

We sat on every single couch in the store. I didn't want one that felt cheap & would feel like it would hold up. We actually narrowed it down after about an hour, but the woman who was suppose to help us was busy. She was walking to & from the office. And then she walked by again when she said she'd be right back to help us, & she said she needed to talk to some guy. We looked & it appeared she was giving him a job interview. Yes, seriously.

Eventually we find something we like & the woman wonders over since it's close to closing time & she finally has time for us. We tell her what we want, I asked if it would need ordered & she said it'd take 2 or 3 days to come from their storage facility but they could deliver it on Friday. This was Wednesday night. I didn't do the math just then, but I'll get to that shortly.

I go to pay for our loveseat & couch. The fact that we're getting a loveseat alone is an upgrade, since before we just had a couch & a chair. Adam & I would have our own couches basically. Awesome. Since we waited so long, they had already shut their credit card system down, so she had to call in my card to charge it to my account. Then she made me listen to it over & over, to make sure she was writing the code down correctly. It was...something.

Once home I realized that I really didn't think they could get it in & deliver it to us by Friday, but I took her at her word. Until Thursday morning, of course, when at 9:01am when my phone woke me up. I didn't answer it, but they left message. It was a guy at the furniture store, who was very clearly calling me while he was nom'ing his breakfast. I could just picture the food falling out of his mouth. I think I heard it land on the counter. His message was a very professional, "Um yeah, this is The Pig from the furniture're suppose to get a delivery tomorrow *nom nom nom*, but, uh, that's been changed. Ummm...we have *nom nom nom* We have to get like a shipment in for our own stock, yeah, that's it. And because of that, they can't bring your stuff in until next week. So we'll bring it Tuesday. *nom nom nom* Alright!"

I hoped he wasn't the one bringing my couch & loveseat at that point. Of course this made sense the more I thought about it. At 9pm on Wednesday, it was going to take 2-3 days to get to them. So...Friday was not the right day to try to have it delivered. The kooky woman just had no idea what she was saying.

We continue to wait. Really it's fine because while I like new things, I hate dealing with them. I hated the thought of moving stuff out & getting rid of it & I hated the thought of strangers coming to the house with me & a toddler home alone. Like I really want hardwood in the living room, but I don't want to deal with the hassle of actually moving things, installing it, then moving things back. I don't mind getting from point A to point's point B, the actual work involved, I've got a problem with.

Monday at 5:50 I asked Adam if I should call the store. We were told they'd call the day before & let me know what time they'd be delivering. Since it was almost 6, I was getting paranoid I wouldn't get a call. So I called, explained the situation, & I was told "Well, we don't call until 6pm to let people get home from work...I can tell you, but since it's before 6pm, it may change."

Please remember at this point it was 5:55. I don't think someone was going to come in & buy something in the next 5 minutes that they have in stock & that they want delivered the next day. If they do, I'm jealous that I spent 2 hours waiting on Grandmother Time to finish the job interview. So she tells me they are set to be at our place between 10:30am & 1:30pm.

I can live with that.

Next up, we decide to post our chair & the couch that steals your soul up on craigslist for free, just to get them moving. People call quick. Adam talks to someone who wants the chair & the couch. Great. He ask me if 9or 9:30 is alright. It's like 6:30, I'm thinking he means that night so I say it's fine. I go about my life. I then hear him saying, "Well, I won't be home but my wife will..." which sends me into panic mode. I start flailing my arms & shaking my head "NO!" until he ask them to hold on. I get the clarification from him that they did mean 9am. Which means me, home alone, pregnant, with strangers in my house from craigslist? My ad said "free couch" not "come kill me & cut my baby out of my stomach."

Yes, I worry about those things.

So he shoots them down, tells them they can come after he gets off at work. They say OK, they'd call him the next day.

I'm not holding free things, btw. If someone else can come before morning, they could have it. We get another call from a woman who wants the chair. Tells us she'll be at our house in like 40 minutes. Alright.

While waiting on her, Adam vacuums the living room. With my $400 dyson. I love my dyson. If we ever get a divorce, he can have everything but my dyson. After 15 seconds of using it, I hear this dreadful noise. I say, "Please tell me you didn't break the belt." I guess he misheard because he then says, "I broke the belt."

He could have picked up one of my cats & punched them in the face & it would have hurt me less.

I cry. Hysterically. Tell him how he has always wanted to kill my dyson & he wasn't even to think about my dyson ever again.

Our 40 minute girl never shows up...until over an hour later when Adam is heading out to Wal Mart to buy a cheap vacuum so I can at least pretend my couch is going to sit on a clean area. Actually, someone else called wanting the couch & chair, & said "if we can get gas money, we'll come." That, of course, broke my heart & I wanted to take them the couch, chair, & $20 because that's what I'm like. But then I realized I can't really strap a couch to my Passat roof, so I move on & try to forget my sadness. I go back to plotting Adam's death to avenge my dyson's death. It's only fair.

He gets back. We promptly watch TV. Around 11:30, we begin the process of getting rid of the couch. But first, we had to fight it. We had to fight it to regain any thing we owned that it'd sucked into it's angry core.

This, my friends, is my epic couch battle.

OK, it's not mine, it's the husbands. I just watched & took pictures. That's my job, you know.

The husband, wasting no time for the first time in his life, quicky flipped it on it's side. Murphy the puppy took up hiding under it.


Our first find was something for the dogs.


Bones. Alot of bones. The couch must like to chew as much as the dogs do, because we find no less than 6 of those things in the couch.

Adam finally realizes I'm taking pictures. He's thrilled.


He found a phone book. We've not had a phone in ages. I don't even know how to use a phone book. Isn't that was the internet is for? And I have no idea why it's toddler size.

I decided to be brave. Not for myself, but for others. Other people who live in a house of horror. I bravely took a picture of UNDER my couch. *sigh*


I AM NOT A PIG! I don't care what the couch says, I am NOT a pig, nor do I live in filth. The couch, on the other hand, did. Not my fault.

So now you can all either feel good about how much better than me you are, or you can know you aren't alone in having a mess under your couch.

Adam then handed his pregnant wife...



If you remember nothing else about me in this world, remember I love sweet tarts. I can eat about 800 of them in a day & even then, I'm having to pace myself. I actually asked Adam, "So....think I can eat them?" And yes, I was serious.

It's really kinda like a drunk, an addiction I'll go to any length I have to in order to get that high known as sweet tarts.

But I enventually come to my senses, realizing I had now idea how long they'd been there or what they'd been through. Of course look down I realized...


do I really want to eat candy that came from under the couch that STOLE TIGERS TAIL?!

In a more cheerful find, look, a cat ornament.


...I have no idea where that came from.

Maybe I can ask Bert.


If Bert, you know, didn't look like a serial killer.

WTF happened to Bert?!

Adam went on cleaning it with the cheap ass Wal Mart vacuum.


It made a lovely sounded like an angry bee hive. It reminded me that even though I felt like a jackass paying $400 for a vacuum, my Dyson was totally worth it.

Can you tell how much I love my Dyson?

Anyway, Adam continued to give the couch a prostate exam.


He found more random things.

Look, an antelope*!


*I make no guarantees this creature is an antelope, it's just a guess. I was a psychology major, not a fucking animal-ogogist. I know nothing about it unless it has a personality disorder, than I can help you out.

We found several tubes of my chap stick.


Right behind sweet tarts, I use chap stick. I go through tubes of chap stick like a porn star...ummmm...insert something crude, yet funny here. I've drawn a blank on something funny yet original. But I use alot of it. Trust me. We found more, like 5 tubes I think. Adam hates me & my chap stick. Now I kinda see why.

We also discovered the secret of where all the nail clippers go.


Into the cote of the evil couch. We go through those like I go through chap stick. It's scary, we have enough that I think it'd be considered a weapon if we carried that many on us anywhere.

We* continued searching the couch.

*We meaning Adam, while I took pictures & said such supportive things like, "why can't you hurry this up?!"

Then he found something.


He fought the evil core of the couch to rescue whatever it was.




I'm not use to seeing this part of delivery. I'm not one of those women who wants to have a mirror placed between their legs to watch something emerge. This experience reminded me why.



Not impressed.



Scared we're going to try to pull a cat out of his ass for humor sake.

Of course it only got more fun for the husband. No, we didn't pull a cat out of his ass. But he had to then remove the couch from our living room onto our porch.

That's right folk, we were officially white trash for a night, with a couch on our porch. Yeehaw.

He had actually said earlier that "we" could handle it. I reminded him that I had a womb-mate growing inside of me, along with being weak in general, while laughing hysterically at him thinking I'd help move a couch. Doesn't he remember who he married?

So he managed it.


And managed it.


Murphy made a fun game, running outside on one side, around the couch, then back into the house on the other side of the couch.


Adam may have been complaining during this time, I'm not sure. I was looking around planning my* next house adventure.

*My meaning what I'll decide to make Adam do while I take pictures & complain he's not doing it fast enough.

Finally though, he was able to wrestle the couch outside. He took a nap.


I then asked him to take this toy upstairs.


I should have got a picture of him when I asked. He almost threw himself in the floor because I wanted him to carry plastic upstairs. You'd think I asked him to carry the couch upstairs. Cry baby.

Of course, it got better. Because the next day we* had A SNOW DAY!

*We meaning Adam, which means I had a sleep in day.

So I didn't have to deal with delivery people. Yay!

But I got my couch.


And my loveseat.


And Adam got to watch people carry furniture up two sets of steps in a snow storm. Good thing it was him, I may have taken pictures & had angry furniture men on my hands.

Jules is staying classy with his mini-couch, covered in Toy Story characters.


Side note...Buzz Lightyear, I hate you. Stop stalking & hunting me.

So I have nice furniture that won't steal my belongs. I can't wait to find people I don't hate that live locally so I can invite them over to sit on it. And someone came & got the couch that night. So we were only white trash for like a day. Now I get to yell at pets for trying to mess up my couch & not allow Adam to eat in the living room since he's too messy. I let my toddler eats in the living room, so that really says something about the husband I think.

Speaking of things about the husband...before someone tells me it wasn't his fault the Dyson broke, let me tell you another part of this. Like 2 days after this, he went to use the cheap Wal Mart vacuum since we were still waiting on our Dyson part. HE BROKE THAT BELT, TOO! Part of me wanted to lift that 4lb piece of crap & knock him over the head with it. Two vacuums break the same way in 2 days? That doesn't even happen to me & that's really saying something.

Jeesh. Thankfully my Dyson is fully functional again.

And no worries, no cats were harmed in the making of his post.


However, if you try to eat in this house, do NOT turn your back. The couch stole everything but food...the cats are around to steal that.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Every Life Has a Story

I'm really torn here.

Over the past several months, I've met & made friends with amazing people. But at the same time, I hate that we ever met. At least, I hate how we had to meet. And in this crap situation we're all living in, so many people go out of their way to be kind & do wonderful things for everyone else.

One of those people is Malory, who lost her 2nd child, a little girl named Janessa, right around the time we lost Joel. She created a site called Every Life Has a Story in order to make videos for parents that have lost children. I mean, ignore the fact that I think it's very kind of her to do that...let's just remember the woman is a mom & wife. I'm happy if I get a chance to sleep more than 6 hours a night, nevermind everything I do in my daily life AND making things like this for people. That holds true for so many people out there who do similar things as a tribute to their lost children as well as others.

As I said, Malory makes videos. She's made several, I've watched them all & lived the heartache of another family living in similar shoes as ours. This time, however, the video was different. This time, it was Joel's turn...

Malory wins my nice person of the week contest. It's the first week I've given such an honor. And I can pretend I'll start handing that honor out from now on, but we all know how bad I am at following through with things. But lets enjoy this weeks winner anyway.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Radom dead baby thoughts & opinions.

Hello, dear friends. I'd planned a nice amusing blog, which I still plan to do very shortly, but instead for now I decided to ruin your happy Valentines Day with flowers & chocolate with dead baby talk.

On a Valentines Day note, we do "celebrate" the holiday. Of course, my dear friend Shannon made the observation today that I enjoyed greatly: "Come on people! The mascot of Valentine's Day is a dude wearing a diaper, flying around trying to shoot people. WTF?"

I realized then that living with a toddler, every day is Valentines Day. Dude running around in a diaper? Check. Flying around? He makes Buzz Lightyear fly around, so check. Trying to shoot people? Well, if he had better weapons, but for a 2 year old he does have good aim when trying to throw things at our heads, so I call that a check as well.

Of course, I'd much rather celebrate something like Christmas everyday. Maybe I can get Adam fat & make him bring us home stuff everyday. Just a thought.

But enough about Valentines Day before you folks who cry & moan about it just being a Hallmark holiday jump in & tell me how it's annoying.

I have a cluster fuck of thoughts as of late when it comes to dead babies...mainly my dead baby. I'd love to put it in a nice story form, but there is no such thing as "nice" when it comes to dead babies. So instead of a story form, I'm going to use dash form. Enjoy.

Well, um, not enjoy. Unless you're a weirdo who likes other peoples suffering.

-People never stop saying dumb things to you after your baby dies. Once you get over being told "this is gods plan" or "you can always have more" it doesn't end sadly. Having another baby brings out stupid, or amnesia. I mean, maybe I'm sensitive, but I've actually been asked, "so are you ready for this new baby?!" Um, I've been ready for a new baby since this time last year. Sure, it's one of those things that people ask no matter how many babies you have, but asking people whose baby died & are pregnant again after the husbands vasectomy reversal? That's kinda like the time my mom ran into a man with one arm & said, "I'm so sorry! I about ripped your arm off!" Sure, there was nothing wrong with that expression...unless it's a one armed man you're talking to & use it with. And yes, that's a true story. And my mom was mortified when I pointed that out to her. I have to try very hard not to blurt out, "Yeah, we just have to take Joel's name off the wall & move his ashes out of the room, then we'll be ready!" & watch the horror wash over the persons face as they realized what they've said.

-I've just learned that someone asked, when they found out I was being induced, "why can't they do a c-section, aren't they worried about her emotional well being?" or something along those lines. Because, you know, going through labor with my dead son was the worse thing that happened. That's like the most normal thing that happened...labor. Insult to injury? You bet. But that's the only thing I got to do with my son that other moms whose babies live get to do.

-Putting new baby clothes in drawers in the dresser, which is also where your sons ashes sit, is a very weird thing. Part of me felt like I was rubbing in his nose, "this baby is getting new clothes since you went & died on me."

-Why do people tell me I'm brave or strong? I'm not. I'm dealing with the hand I was dealt. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't volunteer to have my baby die & deal with everything it involves. Mind you, I'm not offended or anything when people say that, but I hardly think it makes me brave or strong. If I didn't want to leave Adam with a toddler & 28 cats, I would have jumped off a bridge when I found out. I just felt too much guilt doing that after I'd already let his other baby die in me. I felt like I owed it to him to stick around & clean his house from time to time.

-It's disturbing, but I find some amusement in one of the nurses, who was over the top anyway, that in her nursing notes, she actually calls our baby "the dead baby." I mean, other nurses just put "the baby," but not this one. He was "the dead baby." And what exactly does "patient bonding well with dead baby" mean? Who are these strangers to decide how I'm bonding or not? And sorry, I don't think bonding is the right word. Not that I know a better one, mind you, but I'm not thinking bonding is what I did. Mourning maybe? But the real problem for me is other dead baby moms. You know, not all of us want to hold & "bond" with the body that we would have watched our child grow in. Shouldn't that be my choice without having to worry about a sticker being placed on my chart about how I didn't "bond" with the baby? No, not everyone needs to hold & "say goodbye" in my opinion. Personally, I never got to even say hello, so I don't like it being assumed what I or others should or shouldn't do to show "positive" signs.

-Can't they work some magic where dead baby moms don't have to hang out in OB? I mean, can't the OB or midwife walk down another hall to catch the baby? We don't need fetal monitors, warmers, or anything else OB has to offer. Why stick us in OB, around other people having babies? Or why on earth expect me to stay like 2 days? Why not just walk us down the hall to meet the other parents & introduce us. "Mrs. Culver, this is Mrs. Smith & her baby. She did pregnancy correctly." Do they keep us there to monitor us for some sort of psychotic break, to see if we're going to be one of those crazy women who try to steal babies? I mean, what better place to test that than a OB department with a nursery full of babies? I just wanted the hell out of there so I could take pills & pass out on my own couch at home before the other parents who'd been friendly with us up until that point found out we were dead baby parents.

-Even when you know you did nothing wrong, you're paranoid as all hell. I mean, is Tylenol really safe? Maybe that's what did Joel in. My headaches & the Tylenol. Or maybe I bent over too much. Oh, or how about that day my midwife felt for his head, maybe she accidentally pushed his "off" button. Maybe karma does exist & this is what I get for all those times I cried to get out of speeding tickets. Yes, those are all irrational answers, but at least they are answers. And answers that doctors won't tell you are wrong, because that means another doctor didn't screw up. Some doctors...they really stick together. I still enjoy how one told me "there is no kidney condition that can cause a baby to die, it just doesn't happen." Sure there isn't. I'm happy that doctor broke up with me.

-If anything makes me brave, it's being willing to try this all again. I'm choosing that one. But if this one dies, I may just hire a housekeeper for Adam & jump off that bridge like I mentioned above.

-I actually joked today, in a horrible inappropriate way, that we should go ahead & put an urn on the list of baby things we may need.

-No, already having kids doesn't make it any easier. Everything you see your older children do, at some point, you think about the kid who you never got to hear talk, ask to watch Buzz Lightyear, have a birthday party, or even hear cry. Simple things like packing away clothes too small for them becomes a kick in your head, as you fold the tiny clothes one at a time & box them up, thinking about how your other son will never get to wear all of these expensive things your toddler outgrew after wearing it for 15 minutes. I didn't come home, look at Jules, & think, "Well hell, what was I just crying about?"

-No, having other babies doesn't make things easier either. I highly doubt I'll be handed this new baby & once again think, "Well hell, was happened in May 2009 again? I forget. Cinco de Mayo? That must be it."

-No, I won't get over it. No, it's not a phase. And yes, you're doomed to hear about this forever. I know this means that I may be a bummer to hang out with sometimes, but I promise I don't dwell in real life like I do here. Even when drunk, I promise I don't sit & cry. I'm too busy trying to make sure I don't fall down. So keep that in mind if you would ever like to hang out with me. Unless you want to get drunk & cry with me. I can do that, too.

I hope everyone had a good Valentines Day. Even though I see weird & in a mood, I promise I'm not. My fancy couch blog is coming soon. And I have a prenatal on Wednesday, so that should be fun. And by fun I mean a pain & aggravation. I wasn't a fan of prenatal visits when my baby was alive & healthy & I had no concerns about dead babies. But now, they are just chances to be told something is wrong. But at least this visit I get to complain about how I'm fairly sure I have gallstones, which are giving me "attacks" of pain & making it hurt to even breath for a few hours. If that isn't sexy & fun, I don't know what is.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Update on voting for my misery.

I figured peeps may want to know what happened after I posted about the contest I entered for my worse date story...

Well, today they announced the winner.

And to do so, they called me.

For the first time in my life, I've won something. Hooray! I go Tuesday to pick up my certificates for my prizes. I will document it, of course.

Thanks to anyone who voted for me, of course.

Now I just need to decide if I should be proud of winning, or be sad that this basically proves that I had the worse dating life ever.

Oh, fuck it, I won something. Woohoo!

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Yay, 100.

This is Post #100. Be impressed…or feel bad for my boring life.

I figured I’d save the whole baking a cake & decorating with the #100 until I have 100 followers.

Yes, I’ll totally do that.

In my recent boredom, I read various other blog & found an idea to steal. I figure if you’re reading this & do so fairly often (can’t say I blame you), you may like to know a little more about me. Or a lot more. Random things. Even if you know me in the real world (lucky you), I’m sure most of this you don’t know, nor would you ever want or need to know. Including other dating tidbits, how I met my husband & things that I bet are too much information in general.

I now give you 100 things about ME.

1. I have a vagina. Big shocker there, I know.

2. I’m the crazy cat lady. And don’t make a pussy joke here. Seriously, we have 8 cats right now, more if you count the strays. We’ve had 2 pregnant strays we’ve taken in, one of which is expecting kittens any day now. People at Wal Mart got so annoying about asking why we buy so much cat food, we created a story about how we get a check from the city as an animal rescue for taking in & keeping several cats at a time. And they believe it.

3. I don’t like nosey check out people. I don’t want you to make commentary on everything I’m buying or even trying to talk me out of buying some things. Just scan the items & lets move on with life.

4. My husband didn’t want a cat. He didn’t like cats when we first got together. HAHAHAHAHA!

5. I had my parents convinced that I was working very hard on my senior project to graduate college my final semester & would be out working on it for hours. Working on it was actually me having a ridiculous amount of sex with the guy I was dating at the time…that is now my husband, btw. I did that project in a weekend, right before it was due, & got an A. So ha.

6. My parents are divorced…but never lived apart. They’ve been meaning to get remarried for years now, but never seem to get around to it. Weridos.

7. On my wedding day, my mother was distraught because part of my veil was missing…the 36 foot part she & the people at the bridal shop pressured me into getting. I pretended like it just wasn’t there. She still talks about how sad that makes her. Little did she or anyone else know, that my husband & I got it out & hid it under a seat in his car because I thought it was lame & chickened out of wearing it because I felt like an idiot in it. Hiding it was easier than fighting over it.
8. When my husband called to tell his parents I was pregnant with our first son, his father actually fell asleep during the conversation. His mom had to tell him later on what the news was.

9. I’m a hippy mom. I don’t give my kids their shots as “recommended” & I’m against circumcision & “crying it out” for sleep training. And we’re cloth diapering the new baby.

10. I never wanted kids at a point in my life.

11. I once was talked into an exercise called “hill running” by a friend after she saw on MTV that Beyonce did it. I did it twice. I couldn’t walk normally again for 2 weeks.

12. I don’t believe in running unless I’m being chased by a serial killer. And even then, it’s unlikely because chances are you’re going to die anyway. No reason to die sweaty & out of breath in my opinion.

13. I once dated a guy who hated Bob Seger. He was even a DJ & refused to play Bob Seger, even if he was hired & it was requested. To get on his nerves, I use to “confuse” Bob Seger with Bob Dylan, who he loved, just to screw with him.

14. Adam & I were once caught having sex in a car. By a cop. He didn’t care we were having sex, but just asked for us to leave city limits. He also asked if I was alright, which was funny since the position he caught us in…well, he should have been asking Adam that.

15. I use to be a size 5. Ugh. I’m not going “ugh” about being a size 5, that’s in response to the fact that I use to be & will likely never ever be again.

16. I have huge boobs that no one in my family has & that grew in a time period of maybe 8 weeks. I started 10th grade as maybe a B cup & by Halloween I was in a DD. I was in a C cup for a weekend. Hi, I’m a freak of nature. But I’ve got a nice rack.

17. In high school, all of my friends swore they didn’t have oral sex or sex in any way other than the missionary position, which left me feeling kinda sleezy. As an adult, I now realize they were either lying or having very boring sex lives. I should ask them. Maybe I will go to my high school reunion, just for that.

18. I didn’t care when Michael Jackson died & I’m still shocked that so many people still care after all these months.

19. If I did end up having kids, I didn’t want boys. Nope, no boys. Icky.

20. I get a huge kick out of people I didn’t like in school having miserable lives. I’m a bad person like that.

21. I’ve never won anything. Ever.

22. I have a huge fear that the IRS will audit us one day. I’m not sure why I’m scared since we have simple returns & I don’t cheat on them, but I’m still scared.

23. I dated a guy (yeah, another one) who thought he was fancy. He used the word “community” intead of neighborhood, “automobile” instead of car, & insisted on ordering “con caso” at the Mexican restaurant instead of cheese dip. And con caso isn’t even the right word, he was ordering “with cheese” which doesn’t even make sense. Idiot.

24. I met my husband online. Not like a dating site, we met through online friends who all met on a message board for a pro-wrestler. Yes, seriously. He happened to live an hour from me, but being scared of internet people we talked for FOUR YEARS before I finally agreed to meet him for lunch.

25. My husband already had a girlfriend when I decided after those FOUR YEARS that I might like to have sex with him. So while we were planning our first meeting on Christmas, he was at his girlfriends family get together, eating pie with her grandma & making small talk.

26. On our first date, my husband had this “great” story he couldn’t wait to tell me. It was about how he got up early that day to get a money order for his rent, but he couldn’t get it because the bank wasn’t open. He had to get it that day, since his rent was already 3 weeks late. I asked why he didn’t just go to the post office, he just stared at me because no one had ever told him they sold money orders at the post office.

27. After we met, & made out, my husband sent me an email basically asking if it would be alright if he could date me & his other girlfriend at the same time. He said, “I don’t even know if we can sit through a movie together yet.” I shot that suggestion down real fast.

28. The next day I believe, my husband broke up with his girlfriend at her apartment over Taco Bell. When she left the room crying, he decided to leave. He packed up his food & went home. He’s also admitted to wondering if he should have just taken her food, too, since she obviously wasn’t going to eat it.

29. I still married him, knowing all the above info.

30. I’m a little worried sometimes when we get Taco Bell.

31. Oh, he swore to his girlfriend there was no one else. Then like 2 weeks later we went out to eat…where her roommate worked. And saw us together.

32. I was very prepared to have a drink thrown on me or to be called a slut or whatever other words from this girl or any of her friends. I was actually surprised it never happened.

33. I’ve had my nipple pierced. What do you expect from a man stealing slut?

34. I don't think teens should have babies, but I love me some Teen Mom on MTV.

35. I can’t watch animal movies, even animated ones, because they make me too sad.
36. We once watch Benji The Hunted in elementary school & I got so upset I had to be sent home.

37. When I was a kid, I would hear the baseboard heaters clicking & be convinced that Chuckie from Childs Play was coming after me.

38. I slept with a nightlight until I was around 15.

39. To this day, any movies with something dead crawling will make me scared to go to the bathroom by myself at night.

40. Adam has been woke up several times to walk me to the bathroom at 3am.

41. When it came to Jon & Kate Plus 8, I always hated Jon & totally understood why Kate yelled so much.

42. I love coke. Not the drug, the drink. I’ve never done the drug, so I have no opinion of it. But I bet it’s still better than Pepsi.

43. I want to get a gun & Adam is all for people having guns…just not me. He says he’s scared I’ll shoot him.

44. Little does Adam know, if I shot him, who would I make fun of? In real life & this blog?

45. I find it amusing that my blog gets hits from where my husbands family lives. But they never read the blogs about happy things or pictures of our kids…they just read the things about them.

46. I don’t buy American cars. My mom use to sell them, she doesn’t believe in buying American cars after that either.

47. We just got a new SUV, woohoo! A Kia Sorento. It’s snazzy.

48. The Kia is actually the husbands new car, not mine. And it’s the first car he’s ever owned with leather seats, which I find odd.

49. In my life, with the 4 cars I’ve owned, I’ve always owned cars with leather seats. I’m spoiled like that.

50. I taught my son to point & laugh at the husband not too long ago. It’s great.
51. When my son was around 7 months old, he rolled out of the bed. Until it happened, I never got how parents let their kids fall out of the bed. Oops.

52. I just got a new couch & loveseat. I’ve never owned a loveseat until now. It’s always been a couch & a chair, to try to discourage people from staying too long at my house I suppose.

53. We’re officially white trash, because we currently have our old couch on our front porch.

54. I’m planning a blog on my new couch. Well, not my new couch as much as my old couch & all the shit we found in & under it. It’s shameful really, but I figure it’ll make people feel good about themselves when they see the insane mess we were sitting on.

55. When we went to Vegas, we let my dad come to the house & feed our cats & dog (then we just had the one). When we came home, we realized we came home to an extra cat in our house. Yes, seriously.

56. I would love to have a pet goat.

57. I love tax season because I love filling out forms. Even if we didn’t get a refund I’d love it…I just wouldn’t submit it until April 15th like everyone else who has to pay the government.

58. The worse thing about my house is it’s serious lack of closets. The only closets it has not in a bedroom are a tiny corner closet in the back extra room & a linen closet upstairs in the hallway, which is about 4 inches in depth. Fantastic.

59. Adam isn’t allowed to use my Dyson. I love my dyson vacuum, & he just seems to destroy it, one piece at a time. So he has a $50 Bissel that he is allowed to use instead. Not that he really cares, who do you think vacuums the most anyway?

60. In our almost 3 years of marriage, I’ve been pregnant during more of it than not pregnant.

61. I only eat with salad forks. I hate regular forks.

62. I’ve always hated the color green. I even had somewhat of a fear of green when my parents had green plates, which I couldn’t eat off of. I had to have my own plates that weren’t green.

63. My house is green. Go figure.

64. I’m basically for everything politically. I’m pro-choice, gay marriage, death penalty, gun control, government health care, & about anything else I can think of. I’m also one of those freaks who doesn’t mind the idea of cameras watching my every move if it means I’m less likely to get raped & murdered, left in a field somewhere & my killer goes free forever.

65. My son gets the occasional popsicle for breakfast until his real breakfast is done.

66. I’m scared of elevators. I imagine the lines breaking & me falling to my death.

67. I’m scared of stairs. It’s amazing I get anywhere off the first floor.

68. When mixing things, they can only be stirred clockwise. Otherwise, I freak out.

69. Up until a couple years ago, I obsessively counted words. Even during a movie, I would count words in lines. If I didn’t like the number of words, usually anything it was an even amount, I would rearrange the line & make it a better number of words.

70. I can’t use a blender. I try. My blender is a good one. But for some reason, I can never get anything to blend, minus the bit on the bottom around the blade.

71. All of our kitchen cabinets & drawers have child locks on them. Adam did it one day on his own. Yet he didn’t install one on the drawer we keep all the liquor in. Weird.

72. I can watch the same episodes of shows over & over again. There is no limit. I rather watch something I’ve seen & know I like, than something new that I may not like.

73. When it comes to critters, I’m kinda like Snow White. I’ve even had butterflies & birds land on me for no reason but my magic.

74. My house is located directly behind a state mental hospital.

75. When at the movies, I only sit to the left of Adam. If he’s on the left of me, it’s weird & I don’t like it. I also have to try to not sit too close to people, I don’t like people directly behind or in front of me. I have this paranoia about my purse being stolen.

76. I’m very honest. Don’t ask how your haircut looks if you don’t want the truth.

77. I’m still annoyed that people couldn’t send flowers to Joel’s funeral, but then put money in cards or envelopes for us. I’d much rather those people spent that $50 on flowers for me to remember at his funeral than whatever they thought we were going to do with it.

78. Not sure I ever mentioned this, but at my sons funeral my sister in law brought up her kids birthday & tried to get the husband to say he’d come. Perfect time for discussion of children’s parties, huh? I wasn't around at the time, good thing I wasn't.

79. I hate all condiments. I don’t even like to look at ketcup, mayo, or mustard. Mayo is the worse.

80. I don’t like to proof read. You may have noticed weird typos over the course of this blog.

81. I married an English teacher. Thankfully, he’s learned by this point not to try to proofread my blog & come back to me with editing suggestions.

82. I cut a chunk of my hair out from the bottom of my scalp in order for my husband to use it as a rats tail for his 80’s costume for his school today.

83. …today was a snow day. My hair, it’s just sitting upstairs in the bathroom.
84. Being married to a teacher makes you feel like a 5th grader again. You watch the news & check constantly to see if you’re going to get a snow day.

85. Our yard will not grow grass. It’s a constant battle to just not have a mud puddle in our front yard once spring hits. Here in a few weeks, we take on that challenge again.

86. I could eat my weight in sweet tarts.

87. I’ve had phone sex.

88. I get annoyed when I hear people teaching their kids “cute” names for their parts. It’s not a peepee, it’s a penis people.

89. I have a cat named Fat Tammy. She was just Tammy, but then she got fat. We also have a Sammy & Hammy. My best cat name was Tom Cat Hanks.

90. I don’t believe in equal rights. I think it’s a mans job to do yard work & anything I decide to be icky.

91. We feed raccoons. We also name them. They are nice. We’re hillbillys, aren’t we?

92. I once had a pet turkey. I named him Dinner.

93. I like to travel & see places…I just hate to fly to drive.

94. I get amused by women who talk about how it’s their job to get all pretty before their husbands get home. After most days we have around here, Adam is lucky he comes home & I’m here at all. It’s a fancy day for me if I’m wearing PJ pants that aren’t ripped in some way.

95. I compulsively check my online banking, fearing that someone has gotten our info & going to steal all of our money. All I’ve caught in my entire life has been a fake $2 charge. I also love how the bank will let me cancel Adam's debit card, but they won't let me reorder one for him as a replacement when I report his lost or stolen. So I can take away his bank card, but I can't give him a new one.

96. I’m way behind the times. I just started send text messages about 6 months ago, never really did it before. Now I text like 600times a month at least. At this rate, I’ll be ready for an iPhone in about 10 years, when no one cares anymore.

97. I actually like rodent like creatures, even mice. Unless they are running free in my house. Then I scream & hide like, well, a girl. But I don’t want to hurt them, I just want to ask them nicely to leave.

98. I take months to paint a room. Seriously. Our dining room took like 5 months before we actually finished it, same with our kitchen. Our extra bathroom was painted basically in a day…but it still needs touched up & over the shower painted. That was about 6 months ago.

99. Actually, our house is one big unfinished project. Eventually, we’ll get around to finishing everything. Like putting up the trim around the washer in our bathroom closet. We took it down to replace it when we bought the stackable washer. That was almost 2 years ago & we’re on our 2nd washer. It’s all there & ready, but for some reason a hamming nails just seems like too much work.

100. I love to talk about myself.

I'll get to working on the quiz about me ASAP for all of you to take to prove your dedication of reading this. You're welcome.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Oh look, you can vote for my misery.

I previously posted about the worse date I ever had.

I entered it to the local radio stations contest. So, if you would like to vote for my misery & let me win something from the local sex shop, you can click here. I'm number 8.

Of course, there are other prizes as well, but that's my favorite.

No pressure or anything...but can't you imagine the fun picture blog I could create on that shopping trip? The possibilities, they are endless.

Monday, February 1, 2010

A peek inside my uterus & my doctors cabinets.

So last week we had the 20 week 19 weeks.

You know it's going to be one of those days when your husband is playing video games & eating left over chicken before your appointment.


Please ignore the mess I'm sure you notice. We live here. I've not been able to find a way to actually live in this house & keep it clean at the same time. Maybe one day.

On the way there, Adam said, "so if everything is alright today, what do you want to do?"

WHAT?! IF?! Did he really say that?

Worse yet, at that moment "Knocking of Heavens Door" came on the radio.


We get to the doctors office & we get called back for the ultrasound. I'm just happy that I was "Jessica" this time rather than Mrs. Culver, which as I've said before is my mother in law, not me. When we get inside the ultrasound room, I mention that we want a DVD of the ultrasound. I'd made a point to call earlier in the day & ask, they told me I could buy one if I didn't bring my own. I called so if they didn't have them, we could stop & get one somewhere before the ultrasound.

"We're all out."'re what?

When I called, I asked to speak to someone in ultrasound but they didn't want to direct me there, I "needed to go through my doctors desk." Alright, fine. I ask the lady who works my doctors desk & she tells me they have DVD's you can buy if you don't bring your own in. Of course, looking back I realize she's a fucking idiot because she also said, "I think they give you pictures, too." Um, no shit they do.

So, once again at 20 weeks, we get no ultrasound on DVD. Lovely.

The scan starts & she doesn't check the heartbeat, which I find annoying. I don't see anything moving, so I really kinda wanna blurt out, "is he dead?"

...yeah, it was one of those days.

She even spent a decent time doing blood flow & such, which really had me paranoid.

But finally, he waved & said, "hey bitches, what's up?"


Isn't it nice that my fetus curses?

Then he just kept staring.


He also showed that he can riverdance with his big strong legs.


I seriously think those are the most built fetal legs I've ever seen.

And like all of my other children, he has huge feet.


My 2 year old? He wears at least an 8 1/2. Yeah, huge feet.

Hey, speaking of huge feet, the tech froze a picture & said, "did you want to know the gender?"


Um, if I didn't, you would have spoiled it since our non-trained eyes knew that was a penis & testicles. And not just because we already knew that anyway, but because isn't it obvious?

I'd been somewhat paranoid his penis has turned into a vagina somehow, so it was nice to know it hadn't.

We go through all the rest of the stuff. We see TWO kidneys (something else we could clearly see), heart, stomach, bladder, & all that jazz you want your fetus to have.

I wipe myself clean from all of the goo they use for the ultrasound then make our way over to wait at my doctors section of the waiting room.

As we wait, I get paranoid. I realize they didn't let me carry my own chart over like other people have. I become convinced there is something wrong. I start to think about the ultrasound & how she kept looking at the spine. At that point, I told my husband that our baby must have a spinal problem. He told me I was wrong, I told him that if he can't panic with me, he needs to just stay quiet. This is nothing new, I think I've been convinced this baby has had every serious or fatal condition I know of. Plus, I have a gene mutation called MTHFR. It's not serious, it's a common mutation actually, but it puts you at a slightly higher risk of things called neural tube defects. I take a handful of pills every night, most of which are folic acid, to help avoid that but it's still a chance. So that weighs on my mine alot.

We finally get called back & left in an exam room. I'm not a good patient. I don't set on the table unless I have to & only when I have to. And I, well, I snoop.


Seriously, I look in everything I can. It's awful. I'm a bad, nosey person. Damn me. Maybe that's why they don't give me my chart.


I found keys. I sadly couldn't figure out what they were to. Maybe next time.

My doctors office has all of these inspirational quotes on the walls. Along with their odd nature music & their lame National Geographic DVD they always have playing in the lobby.


They also have gel to use with the doppler to find the babys heart beat. In case you don't know, the fancy gel is nothing more than a water based lube. Don't believe me?


It enhances the pleasure of loving intimacy. Out of everything my doctor & I do, there really isn't anything loving. No amount of lube can create a loving feeling. But maybe I'm weird like that.

Doctor comes in, ask what we found out. I told him, "we're having a baby, what do you know?"

Silly man, he laughed because I think he thought I was joking.

He then says, like most ultrasounds, they couldn't get a good shot of everything. He told me a couple things in the heart they weren't able to get clear shots of, but I'm having a fetal echo in March, so they weren't worried about that. Then he says, "And, you know, part of the spine wasn't visible."

HA! I knew I was right! "What's wrong with the spine?!" The doctor gets this slightly concerned look on his face because he knows he's sent me into a panic. He pulls out the report to give me exact details & then says this...

"Oh, wait, I'm wrong. Usually it's part of the spine. Profile. That's what it was, she couldn't get a profile shot."

I saw the report, there is nothing up with his spine. They were missing a profile shot. I guess our baby has a staring problem. He gets that from me. Hopefully he doesn't obviously point at people like the husband does as he talks about them.

...but really, wasn't that a bad idea to just guess what they couldn't get clear shots of for the dead baby parents?

So all is well in my womb. The person growing within is measuring right on his dates & weighs a whopping 9ozs. And, like I said, has a staring problem. I see lots of awkward moments in our future.

Go back in 3 weeks & after that we get to start our serious, short term relationship where we see each other all the time until the doctor finally gets me on my back, naked from the waist down. That may sound dirty, but there is nothing dirty (at least in the good way) about pushing a 7lb thing out of your vagina. Trust me.

In other news, Jules & I now make cookies.


He decorates them.


And, of course, he noms stuff in between decorating.


He also loves paint.


And me?

I love standing in a stranger yard, at night, to pose with their decorative cow.


So all is well. OK, not all is well, but the important stuff is. I'm sure I'll bitch & moan about the other things soon enough. Look forward to that one like I know you will. Oh, & I ordered maternity clothes. Because I'm getting bloated. I'm picky & find being pregnant no reason to dress badly, so maternity is always a task for me since I don't like floral prints & bows. I'll have to blog about that in the future. And, you know, offend all of the women who like floral prints & bows.

And here is your Epic Fail tip of the week. Have a Dairy Queen? I highly suggest everyone get a Strawberry Cheesequake blizzard cake. It's good for pregnant women, PMS'ing women, or women who are breathing. Just a tip. Don't ask how I know that, I've not ate an entire ice cream cake for no reason this weekend. Nope, didn't do it at all.

And I wonder why I'm bloated.


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