Homo sapiens are odd

I think our baby doctor and our nurses like us, if for no other reason than we provide them with comedic relief and plenty of fodder for the upcoming week once we leave their office. 

• I doubt that the good doctor and nurses have to correct most folks for starting every question with, "In humans...."  Turns out, most folks only ever deal with humans.  For two ranch kids with degrees in agriculture (its a masters in FARM ANIMAL REPRODUCTION for crying out loud), obviously one might infer that humans are not our forte, our main topic of discussion around the dinner table.  

•  Most folks are not as blunt as W is.  The nurse walked in our exam room last week and stated that I had lost another two pounds since my last appointment.  My beloved's sarcastic reply?  "Well, you sure can't tell it by looking at her."  And please don't get your feathers ruffled over that last comment.  I was absolutely certain that I had gained a TON of weight too by the way I felt and the fact that my clothes no longer fit me.  I agreed with Wesley wholeheartedly on that last one.  The nurse busted out laughing.  

•  Wesley asked if we got some sort of a prize for being out of high school, married, working and having insurance.  Nurse A said she'd look into it, Nurse B said I was past my child-rearing prime and I was the oldest person she'd pulled blood on by 10 years that day.  (That would put everyone else at 16 and below.... fyi.) 

• Everyone realizes how uber cheap I am and gets a great laugh out of watching me add up the cost of every appointment in my head.  Yes, I am terribly grateful for our wonderful insurance, but I still can't stop myself.  I feel like a Visa credit card commercial is constantly repeating itself in my head during every appointment.  Sonogram: $250.  Urine sample: $50. This child: very expensive.  

• Someone (I'll give you three guesses) has started to tease me incessantly about my frugal nature and made the poetic comparison that I am tighter than a bull's butt during fly season.  Yep, let that one stick with you the rest of the day.  

 Yep, it's no wonder that our doctor and nurses get such a kick out of us every time we come to town.  We surely don't want to disappoint!

I'm jonesin' like a crack head

With a title like that, how can this story be anything but riveting, right?  I am coming to the realization that I may indeed have a problem. 

I have been crocheting on a ridiculously large baby blanket for a friend during all my spare time - listening to the governor speak at a conference last week, meetings, and of course... every evening when I sit down.  Oh yes, and on all these delightful snow days we've been getting.  Today being one of them. 

Last night I was crocheting and Wesley came over to be a pain and tickle my feet.  In the ensuing battle and me slumping down in the recliner in an attempt to kick him in the face (don't judge, I didn't have any weapons close by) I managed to lose my only crochet needle in the depths of the black hole that is the recliner.  After attempting to retrieve it for 30+ minutes and then sulking for the next 12 hours, Wesley pointed out that I may have an addiction to crocheting and I may have to look into other indoor hobbies. 

Instead, I am thinking about driving the 60 miles in semi-blizzard conditions to the nearest craft shop in order to satisfy my cravings instead.  And yes, I realize this is not healthy.  And yes, this is the last time I will ever lose my last crochet needle again! 

I am not taking responsibility for the low quality of this post.  If I had a crochet needle in my hand I wouldn't have been forced to type anything at all! 

Kiss of Death

I thought with this being Valentine's Day and all, we'd stick with the lovey-dovey theme, right?  Sounds rather apropos to me.  Actually, I don't know that I'd file this story under 'lovey-dovey', but it does involve a kiss.  That's enough of a connection to justify it as a Valentine's Day story in my book.

I went home to Mom and Dad's last weekend and it was great.  We went to church Sunday morning a bit early as Mom was singing in the choir.  It was a fairly nice morning so Dad and I elected to stand outside next to the pickup while he finished his coffee.  It gave me a chance to watch as folks pulled in the parking lot and recognize lots of familiar faces.

I especially took notice when a large sedan pulled in and a tiny, ball-of-fire older woman stepped out.  As she exited her vehicle she took the time to do a 360 sweep of the entire parking lot and scan for potential victims.  I mean, she took time to scan for people to wave at.  She spotted me standing 30 yards away and, deciding I was too distant a target, settled on waving so hard I thought she might dislocate her shoulder.  Escape #1 of mine was a complete success.

During the church service Mom, Dad and I sat in a pew towards the back of the church, far from the center aisle.  Thankfully, a nice couple came in and sat in the pew with us, effectively blocking a clear path from me to the center aisle.  (Cue evil scientist laugh.  My plan is working, mwahahahaha!)

At the end of church we are dismissed from the front of the church to the back.  Probably as an incentive for more people to sit closer to the front, but my family never bought into that.  We were patiently sitting and waiting for our turn to be dismissed when the tiny, ball-of-fire Marge* and her husband stood up and prepared to leave from their pew several rows in front of us.

I leaned over and whispered to my dad, "Watch this.  She can't get to me.  Mwahahahaha."  As Marge made her way towards our pew she spotted me - a victim child she hadn't seen in quite a while.  We watched as she frantically scanned the area and saw that I was effectively boxed in by people, meaning she was also effectively boxed out from accessing me.  We settled on a friendly wave and smile.  Escape #2 of mine was a complete success.

After church we made our way to the hallway and I got the chance to see several folks I hadn't seen in quite a while.  It was fun, and the fact that I have a fetus the size of an orange this week made me more of a commodity as folks came up to see my ever expanding midsection.  Most of Mom and Dad's friends already knew our news so the element of surprise wasn't there, which did not hurt my feelings in the least.

We were almost ready to leave when our friend Marge strolled up.  I gave her a hug and listened to the standard, "Oh my goodness Sweetheart, you're looking so good these days, I can't believe you're growing up so quick...."  I thought I was going to be safe.

And then it happened.

I was wearing a larger black jacket that day which helped to camouflage most of any sort of belly unless you knew one was supposed to be there.  Marge gave me (what I thought was) one last little hug and said, "Oh, Sweetheart, your just so skinny!  How do you stay so thin?!"  (Totally blowing smoke up my skirt, by the way.) 

My mom opened her big mouth with a twinkle of evil no mother should ever possess in her eyes.  "Anna's belly is getting bigger.  She's going to have a baby!"

"Oh, congratulations honey!" she shrieked as tiny little ball-of-fire Marge grew springs under her red pumps and that little 4'11" lady jumped up and planted a huge, fire engine red kiss of stay-forever lipstick on my 5'7" cheek.  Escape #3 was not as successful. 

And thus my mother sealed her destiny to end up in a crappy nursing home forever. 

Birthday Girl

Big day at our house today.  Loopie is turning three.  THREE.  Where does the time go?  (And yes, I realize that recognizing this event does qualify us as those dog people.) 

When I realized this morning that it was her birthday, I started thinking back on how much our life has changed in these three years.  It took me back to the time that Wesley and I almost got divorced.  Yep, that's right, I can take any sentimental moment and crush it with a heavy dose of reality and assorted downers. 

Think back to all those lovey-dovey high school and college relationships when the significant other could do no wrong and you only saw stars in your eyes when you lovingly and affectionately gazed at them. 

Remember that story from a few months back when I said we were on the 'accelerated program' regarding brutal honesty in our relationship? 



It was my last semester of college and I was coming home for spring break in late March.  We had a late season blizzard come through that week when I was trying to drive back to Kansas and see my beloved, my do-no-wrong, say-no-wrong love of my life.  Earlier that week I had also gotten the call that my puppy had finally reached the weaning age and was ready to be picked up that week.  I thought about it long and hard (yeah, right) and decided that Wesley could wait.  I needed to drive an extra two hours north in a blizzard and pick up this adorable little ball of blue heeler fur. 

I called my do-no-wrong, say-no-wrong love of my life to let him know of my genius plans to pick up the pup before I came to see him.  I remember his loving reply to me on the phone that day. 

"If you are stupid enough to drive up there and pick up a damn dog you can just keep driving and don't bother stopping here again." 

Not quite the reply that I was looking for. 

After a crying and cussing fit I came to the realization that this only further solidified our relationship.... and put us on the accelerated program regarding total, brutal honesty in our relationship. 

Monumental things happened that day.  1) Wesley became the first ever male to have the gumption, the gall, the cajones to speak to me like that and live.  And, 2) Wesley became the first male that I ever really listened to, besides my Dad.

It ended up that I didn't get to pick up Loopie on that horrible spring break trip home and I didn't get to meet her for several more weeks.  She was worth waiting for though.  And Wesley and I went through with the whole wedding thing and didn't end up getting a divorce over a puppy and a blizzard. 

And this is the part where you say to yourself "Awwww, such a sweet ending."  See?  I can let some sentimental moments stand uninterrupted. 

Happy birthday, Loop. 

Equal opportunity idiot

I not afraid to laugh at myself, and thankfully with this pregnancy the opportunities are more present than ever.  Pregnancy brain is no myth, my friends.  No myth at all. 

True, I'm sure there are varying levels of stupidity and lots of it probably has something to do with your level (or lack of) intelligence to begin with. 

The ladies I work with on a daily basis love the endless fodder of material that I provide to them for their humor and endless teasing pleasure.

Example #1:  In my defense, I knew what I was saying was terribly wrong, but for the life of me I could not come up with the correct name.  In many situations this isn't a problem.  For instance, when dealing with live people on a face to face basis.  I can cover with "buddy," "pal," and my favorite "hey, you!"  When telling a story; however, this can't always work. 

I don't even know why I was trying to tell a biblical story, but I was.  I was very adamant in telling our office professional all about Noah taking a float trip down the Nile in his little reed basket.  "You know, not Noah, but that one kid?"

She was so polite.  "Um, do you mean Moses?"

"That's the one!  Good job buddy!"  Pam, her name is Pam. 

Example #2:  There is a baptist church in town, the Maple Street Baptist Church* (yes, I changed the name).  They are quite small and I have never actually met someone who attends this church.  Keep that one important fact in your mind - small, small, small.

A friend came in the office one day and we covered a plethora of topics during our short visit together.  One of those topics was the Maple Street Baptist Church.  Another one of those topics was about a trucking company that is the largest employer in Greenwood County.

My poor, feeble mind was apparently on overload and not able to process two distinct thoughts separately.  My only contribution to the entire conversation was, "Wait - do you mean to tell me that Maple Street Baptist Church employs almost 90 people?  What in the world do they do with all of them?"

My friend was ever so tactful in his reply.  "What is wrong with you?" 

Pregnancy brain.  It's my excuse for the next several months.  Get used to it.  And get used to some really odd stories. 

Q & A

Prior to my last post, I realize I had been a bit laxidasical with my blogging duties.  It's not that we hadn't done anything fun or exciting (yeah, right)... it's just that I didn't feel like starting every story with "right after I puked" and then winding things up with "it ended/everyone went home/Wes had to stop the pickup when I puked."  Just not appealing to the masses.  But that has been our life lately. 

I'll go ahead a clear up a few questions that folks automatically throw out.

• When are you due?  The beginning of August.  The week after our county fair.  The hottest time of the year.  And no, we didn't take the time to check our calendars and figure all this out ahead of time.  

• What are you having?  A baby.  I think it's nice that God has given us a gift.  I was taught not to peek and ruin a surprise when you've been given a gift.  We are not concerned about finding out his sex or buying her outfits, we just keep praying for a healthy one.  Yet one more way that my husband and I are old fashioned fuddy-duddies.  

• Where will you put the baby in your small house?  We'll make it work folks.  Let's put this all in perspective.  Indians had babies all the time and they only had a papoose and a teepee.  We can make this work for quite a while in our tiny little place.  

• I haven't seen anything on Facebook yet!  (deep breath)  .....sigh.......  I just can't get comfortable with posting my life on Facebook where everyone from high school can see exactly what's going on with us.  I like to think of it like I'm leaving a little something for our 10 year class reunion.  And relatively few folks outside of close friends and family know about this little blog (yep, I'm talking about you, lady that works on the floor above my sister) so I feel safe(er) in this environment.  

I think that covers the bases for now.  And if you'll excuse me, now I have to (I'll leave you to figure out the ending). 

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