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Thursday, November 29, 2012

Hormones 1, Me 0

{Not me crying...this is what I wish I looked like when I am crying...}
 
Pretty sure this is what I actually look like when crying
{Aside from being a 6'7" black man...I think this nails my crying face...not sure, but I am just guessing}
 
 
So....I had heard all this talk about pregnancy hormones, and how they can make you go on this roller coaster of emotions and mood swings.  True to my nature, I figured "yeah..if you can't control yourself, jeez, I will be fine, I will just be tougher and stronger than the hormones, and will be a totally wonderful happy pregnant woman.  Me and my will are tougher than hormones, you will see...."
 
(To all of the other dear women who read this blog, who have gone through this before me, and are laughing at me right now...go ahead. And I promise, if you are hating me right now for my self righteous attitude, don't worry...I will get my comeuppance...and soon....)
 
 
So that was my plan...just outwill those pesky astronomical levels of progesterone and estrogen pumping through my system at alarming rates.  I mean they have the power to transform a tiny person in my body, and to turn bananas into tuna flavored horror, but me, I can out wit them...I am that good.
 
Booooom.
 
 
Nope.
 
 
It all started yesterday afternoon.  The Hubs had been gone all week long working a very important homicide case. (Yep, that is what he does...so cool and sexy right?....um try living it in real life...we will tell you, while it is cool...it sucks ALOT of the time.)  Anywho, he had been gone every night this week, and I was missing him.  And with this new alien in my belly, I had so many things I couldn't wait to talk to him about.  I starting missing him so much I felt like crying..... I didnt, but I wanted to.....I should have seen the signs.
 
Next came the end of the day.  I left work, happy that The Hubs appeared to me heading home tonight.  Yay!  I stopped and got us both a drink.  Just as I was about to give the Hubs his drink, the lid flew off in spectacular fashion and 44 oz. of Diet Coke flooded the floorboards of my front seat.  I wanted to cry. WHAT THE ......!?!? Why do I want to cry!?!  I should be cussing, and damning the stupid cheap lid makers...no... all I wanted to do was cry.  That is when I had a sneaking suspicion...it was over...the hormones were winning.  Hell bent on teaching me and my self righteous ass a lesson about their powers.
 
We made it home, and sat down at the table while dinner cooked.  We started talking about all the things I had on my mind.  One was nursing, and how nervous I was, and all the research I had done, and then...I started crying. Yep. I starting crying about my fears of nursing, and my fears of being totally unattractive to my husband...7.5 MONTHS BEFORE IT IS HAPPENING! I even said "omg...why am I crying...what the...."  The Hubs just smiled and hugged me, and said "it is the alien, he has taken over your body and done this to you...sweet little alien"
 
Then the Hubs got a call again, yet another grissly crime scene awaited him.  And I started bawling again. See, I am used to this by now.  First of all, the Hubs is on call 7-10 days out of every month, I am VERY well versed in his call outs, and him having to leave.  But this time,  for some reason, I just couldn't handle it last night. Stupid Hormones.
 
Today I feel fine, and a little silly and embarassed at my weepiness last night, but I guess for once, I have a good excuse to act insane ;)
 
Welp, hormones, you win. Thanks for knocking me off of my high horse.  Guess I deserved it, thinking my will was stronger than nature, and every other woman in the world. Well played hormones, well played.
 
I am sure we will meet again.
 

 

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

We hosted Thanksgiving...and oh yeah..We are having a Baby

WHAT!?!?! You exclaim! Yep...we hosted Thanksgiving...successfully.. I roasted a 20 lb turkey, and made home made pie crusts. I also created a fabulous spread of appetizers...

What?

Oh....you don't care about Thanksgiving....you wanna hear about the baby!?  You sure you don't want me to post about my turkey basting secrets and pie crust technique....ok...fine....

 
{Me with my pee stick...eww}

Yes...The Hubs and I are expecting a baby.  We told the family over Thanksgiving dinner.  And although the announcement did not quite go as we had thought it would,  it all turned out fine in the end. We kinda announced it in a joking manner, and it did not go over well. Meh well, live and learn.

Our baby is due in July. Yay...I get to be HUGE in Texas summer. Oh well, I am still insanely excited.

In light of our new endeavor in life, I thought I would share a list of things I have already learned about being pregnant that no one told me.  I plan to add to this list as things progress, but we will start with what I have learned in the past few weeks.

1. People are going to ask you inappropriate questions.  20 times a day. Boobs, hooha, conception.... it is all up for grabs. It makes me crinkle my nose and want to run away.
2.  Certain friends in your life are going to ask you 7,000 questions daily about everything from "when you plan to tell your HR department?", to "why is your doctor doing  an ultrasound so early? ...are you sure that is right?...when I WAS PREGNANT..." It is exhausting. 
3.  Everything you eat or drink will be scrutinized by your entire office.
4.  Your "hooha" will take on an identity of it's own.  People will feel free to talk about it, and it's impending doom- like it isn't even there...at the copy machine, over lunch, everwhere...hooha hooha, hooha....how horrible your poor hooha is going to feel after it is all over....
5.  Every woman will tell you the horrors of her pregnancy. Every. single. one.
6.  In the morning, everything I eat tastes like tuna. Bananas, malt o meal, muffins. Tuna.
7.  Tuna flavored malt o meal washes off the side of your car pretty easily if you get to it quickley.
8.  Decaf coffee is a joke. I hate you decaf. No wait, I love you....please don't leave me.
9.  What the hell is cord blood banking, and why do I not know about this, and oh I should research this, and oh, it is $13,000 dollars, um... never mind.
10.  Everyone you know, including your doctor and her nurse will jokingly tell you it  might end up twins. You will want to kill them, and then go cry. And then go buy two of everything.

The list will continue, as this little alien platypus (that is what it looks like at this point) continues to take over my body and then come ripping out of me like the scene from alien. Should be fun I think.

Oh...almost forgot #11. This is VERY important. Very.

11.  Don't watch any videos of natural births before 1987....they are horrendous. And they don't do things like that any more...I asked...keep the videos current, otherwise, you may end up sitting at your kitchen table; staring blankly at your husband, as he stares back at you, both of you frozen in horror.  Trying to make the 70's video go away from it's burned hole in your brain.

Yay baby!
 

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Burlap Christmas Stockings on DayQuil


The Monkey and I have been sick. And then the poor Hubs caught a mild round of it himself. It was one of those cold/sinus infection/ achey/runny nose/ horrendous sounding coughs/ cold chills/ "my GOD it is hot in here"/ "oh wait now I am freezing, crank up the heat"- kinda things. We were down for about a week.  We passed it around the house like a football on gameday.

But we are back now, and hosting Thanksgiving Tomorrow! Yay us! (Don't worry I disinfected everything ;) )

Come Monday,  the three of us were still at home together, cooped up, all sneezy and pajama clad.  I was starting to feel better by Monday and was getting a little stir crazy.  I decided to try my hand at one of the many projects I had planned for this Christmas.  These projects  had been mocking me all week while I layed on the couch, watching another hour of the "ABC Phonics Song" helplessly, unable to make the Monkey give up control of the laptop.

So, on Monday, since the Hubs was now down for the count and the new victim to the catchy "g-g-g- gor-illa" song, I snuck away and got after one of my easier projects.

I had decided I wanted to sew my own stockings this year, for a few reasons.  1. I wanted something a little more neutral, that kinda matches our whole living room, and isnt red or green.  2.  I also wanted to make something a litte more classy than the red- fur -lined- glitter- pen- name ones I made the kids 2 years ago. Just sayin. 3.  I had decided if I sewed them a bit smaller, that is less crap I have to try to fill it with, and less junk to buy, sort, give, and then see chucked at the bottom of the toy box by Christmas day night.  Hear me out- Stocking stuffers, are the popular highschool jocks of Christmas. Stay with me...  "popular jocks you say?" What the hell is she rambling about...get off the Day-quil lady  No no..listen.  The popular good looking jocks in highschool.  They were sooo cool, and soo awesome, and sooo...shallow, and really big idiots by "adult" standards.  And while they were the highlight of highschool...they kinda "pffft" out right after graduation and become weird semi-good looking real estate agents who never go to college, and just hang around the small town their whole life, talking about their 50 yard pass back in '97.  Alas...stocking stuffers are those guys. AWESOME on the day of! "Woohoo!!! Gum!! Woohoo!!! Tiny writing tablets shaped like Santa!!!" Next day...meh...

A-N-Y-W-A-Y  (jeez lady get to the damned point, I thought we were talking about stockings you weirdo)

The Hubs said it was incredibly Grinch like of me to sew smaller stockings so that I have to put less '97 all- state quarterbacks, I mean pocket hair brushes in them. But I said, "It is just good financial planning"  He kinda rolled his eyes at me I think...I am not sure though...he was kinda feverish at the time, and that damn dancing Gorilla holding his letter G proudly makes everyone a little cranky.

So, I drew a template for my stockings using an old stocking.  I used burlap fabric that I had left over from the Hubs and my wedding for the sock part, and used a neutral- polka dotted- shiney kinda fabric for the fold over liner.  It sewed up REALLY easy.  Burlap is a bit of a yucky fabric to work with though....I don't reccomend it.  It left tiny little burlap hairs all over EVERYTHING in my kitchen....I mean sewing room. ;)  I used wooden letter initials for each kiddo and attached them with twine and ribbon.  The twine is also the hanger.  I am still considering painting the initials a golden sparkly color, to give it a little bling. Thoughts?

In all it took me about 1 hour to make three slightly scaled down stockings.  I really like them. 

Oh, and just so that you can share in our mind altering state of the A.J. Jenkins Phonics Song, please click the link.

You are welcome.   

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Zombie Jam Making Photos


I call them Zombies because the Hubs resurrected them from the dead.  He spent days trying to resurrect my dead SD card. He succeeded. Reason # 5,687 I married him, he never gives up.

Enjoy your photo tour of jam making...with some people who were first timers, made a huge mess, and had a good time doing it.

{Happily Chopping away...La Ti Da..Oh such fun...}

{Sweet Mother McCree....I chopped my thumb off...ok...a bit dramatic}


{Sissybug peeling Apples}
 
{Tada!}

We have since made another batch of Apple, and a batch of Spiced Pear.  Yummo.

I will leave you with this...

{Reason # 6, 230 I married The Hubs...because he worked for days to save photos like this from being lost forever. }

Thanks Honey. You are the best.




Thursday, November 8, 2012

What a Poopy Day

Well Crap. That is how my day started yesterday.
 
I am using a stock photo from Bing images because my SD card is still in ICU on the Hubs' desk. Not that I would share an actual photo of poop with you, but I could have come up with some clever picture if I had all my images at my disposal. As you mutter to yourself about how I whine so much about my stupid SD card...just read on, I promise, it gets better.  If you think poop makes things better.....
 
Wednesday morning we awoke to poop.  And not just because of how the presidential election turned out.  I have LOTS of feelings, and thoughts, and fears based on this recent turn of events in our country's history, however, I will not debate them here.  If you want to debate politics, head on over to The Hubs' blog. Here... I am supposed to talk about homemaking, and kids, and my sarcastic view on home life.  Nevertheless, I am not too shy to say that my vote was cast for Mitt Romney, and when I excitedly checked my phone first thing, and it scrolled "Obama wins", well ...well poop.
 
But enough about the figurative poop of yesterday and on to the literal poop of yesterday.  The monkey was sick. Really sick.  His little belly was just not doing well. He had been a bit down at school all week, and then the "explosion of 2012" happened yesterday morning. He pooped in his bed while he slept. An explosive poop. A poop that rivaled anything I have ever seen or smelled.  Many of you may know that the Hubs is in the business of dealing with death.  That is his work, he looks over dead bodies many times a week, examines them, and even moves them.  If you want to know the details of what he does, head over to his blog and ask him! I say this to give you a point of reference.  This man, who spends his life looking at decomposing human bodies, gagged when he smelled the Monkey's, um, explosion.
 
The Monkey stayed home from school.  He went to the doctor, the doctor said he is fine. He got two suckers, I got to swipe my debit card. How is that fair? I should get a sucker, or atleast a gift card to Starbucks or something. Shouldn't that be included in my Obama Care? Ok, Ok, I know, I won't go there.  
 
I washed the sheets and pajamas twice, and sprinkled baking soda all over the mattress, and left the windows open all day. I also used the power of the sun to air out pillows and sheets.  The sunshine always helps.
 
Horrific.  There is nothing like cleaning up a poop explosion before 6am, NOTHING.  If you want to feel like there is no hope for the world, and that the planet is nothing but a pit of despair, clean up poop out of carpet at 5:50am. You will know what hell truly must feel like. And probably what it smells like too.
 
(And son, I am sorry, when you are 16, and your girlfriend finds this and reads it, I promise, I will tell her it was all a fabrication, and you will have nothing to be embarassed about.)
 
 
 
 

Monday, November 5, 2012

Making Homemade Jam

So...my SD card crashed yesterday. After I took about 70 pictures of me and my family making homemade strawberry and apple jam this weekend.  Urgh!  The Hubs is trying to recover my SD card pictures now....we will see how it goes. If he can pull it through,  I will update with some pics tomorrow. Some of them were really great. But alas...this means nothing to you, as you stare at my boring, un-illustrated words.  The show must go on I guess.
 
Spoiler alert! I may be discussing what some of you may get for Christmas in this post.   But please read on.... :)
 
We decided to try our hand at strawberry and apple jam this weekend.  Both turned out to be a tremendous success. I used the strawberry jam recipe that came on the fruit pectin box.  I used an apple jam recipe that I got from Kelly over at Imperfect Homemaking. Both were great.  The apple jam, however, was absolutely phenominal. It has some added spices that just made it so flavorful. 
 
I would like to mention that I do not own any canning equipment. NONE.  I don't have a hot water bath canner, or a funnel, or special tongs or anything.  I just used what I had at the house already, and it turned out fantastic. I used three large stock pots, and a pair of sturdy kitchen tongs to pull the jars out of the hot water. 
 
The Hubs sharpened all my knives for me before I got started chopping hundreds of strawberries and apples. Yeah... so I quickly determined the power of his sharpening skills and sliced right through my thumb.  As my Monkey would say "owie bo-bo!" Once I got the bleeding to stop, and got myself all bandaged up, I continued on.  The Hubs pureed the fruit in the food processor for me. Sissybug helped with peeling and chopping the apples.  It was a great family activity.  Any time you can get a 14 year old in the kitchen, excited about making jam, I think that is just fantastic.
 
It was defintely a group effort.  I could not have done it by myself.  It is such a process of quickness, and keeping the jars hot, that I needed The Hubs and Sissybug's help.  Sissy was my official photographer. She did an excellent job. (Not that you would know that, since none of the pictures are saved...ok, ok, I will get over it..moving on) 
 
We sterilized our jars in a large pot of boiling water, then transferred them to a 200 degree oven to stay warm until our jam was cooked and ready. We kept that same water simmering and boiling, ready for the processing once the jars were full.  We kept the lids and rings hot in simmering, but not boiling water.  Per the recipes-I ladeled molten hot fruit into jars, The Hubs used his callous ridden man paws to put the steaming lids on, and SissyBug took photos of everything like a paparazzi. Then, we placed our filled and lidded jars in our regular old pot of boiling water with good strong tongs. We made sure they were covered by about 2 inches. We waited 10 minutes...and out came gorgeous jars of homemade strawberry and apple jam. As our jars cooled on the counter, we could hear the "pop!" of them sealing as they cooled.
 
The Hubs laughed at me about this. True to my nature- I fussed over the jars like a nervous mother hen and checked them a million times. Convinced I had messed it up and they would never seal.  I actually jumped for joy and did a little 'Yip!" when my first jar popped sealed. It is the little things that excite me.
 
I am trying to be more intentional with my gift giving this year, and plan on giving gifts that we made ourselves to most of the people we love.  It is part of our new lease on life of spending less, doing more ourselves, and being self sufficient.  I think some jars of homemade apple jam beats an ill-fitting sweater from Target any day.  Plus our blood (literally..ok not really...I promise) and sweat went into making every jar.  Our family enjoyed a wonderful evening together, working on these gifts together.  I hope everyone who receives our homemade jam this Christmas enjoys it as much as we did. 
 
And when I say we enjoyed it....we ate an entire jar the next morning.  Sissybug ate 6 bisquits....with apple jam....seriously.
 
Hope you enjoyed my non-illustrated post.  I promise I will try my hardest to add pics tomorrow.
 
Happy Monday. Happy Fall.