The Friday Night Stash

It was Friday night and we were contemplating movie choices when a craving struck me and it struck me hard.  "THE FETUS WANTS ICE CREAM!"  Was the signal I received from below.  So I tried in my sweetest of wifely ways to talk Kyle into running to the store for ice cream while I "get the movie ready."  Fair trade, no? 

Well, would you imagine my delighted surprise when he procured from our very own freezer a half gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream!!  I sent him praises of love and admiration!  He was my hero!  How had he known I would crave mint chocolate chip at exactly that moment on a Friday night?!?

And then I discovered that it was half-eaten.

Praise retracted.

The half gallon had been there for several days and he had already made significant headway on its consumption.  Since its purchase, the ice cream had been stashed in the back of the freezer, under some bags of frozen salmon.

I am not at all surprised by this.  Kyle admittedly likes to stash treats in places I will not likely look. 

For Example:

1.  The box of Milk Duds I discovered in his nightstand drawer.  Uh, hello?  Whenever did you buy these?  And, more importantly, why aren't you sharing??

2.  The box of chocolate chip cookies hidden in the back of the pantry under a bag of hamburger buns.  I don't really care for store-bought cookies anyway, but still.  It's the principle of the thing!  I ate three and never looked back.

3.  The Lindt truffles that I brought home to share that I later found hiding in no other place than the infamous nightstand drawer.  (I should really look there more often)

4.  Most notably, the recent mint chocolate chip ice cream debacle.

So you see, I felt no shame at all when I scooped us up some ice cream and gave myself an extra serving.  (For the fetus, of course)

Thoughts on Diapers--Opinions Please!

90% of the time I get this reaction: "You're crazy!" When I tell people I'm thinking about cloth diapers.  I realize there is an added element of ickiness to it and a little extra work involved, but I'm about 60% leaning towards cloth for now.  It was this post on Young House Love that really got me thinking.  And really, its the only review I've read/heard that is so in depth on cloth diapers, but it had me sold!  I would definitely go for the Bumgenius Elemental All in One just because John and Sherry recommend them, but there are probably other great options too.

I love the idea of cloth because:

1.  First and foremost, I really believe it can save you money.  Diaperpin.com has a calculator to compare the cost of cloth diapers to disposables.  I compared the most expensive cloth diapers I could find ($24.95 each) to the average cost of disposables ($.20 each).  The outcome?  According to Diaperpin.com I would save $635 a year by using cloth diapers.  I realize that for some, looking at it as $53 a month in savings maybe doesn't seem worth it for the added effort of cloth, but that $53 can be a huge difference in our budget.  I mean really, that's like a pair of shoes a month!  Or an extra date night!  More darling baby outfits! 

2.  There may be a number of other benefits for the baby too.  I've done a ton of reading from people who have used both cloth and disposable.  The general theme I get is that babies in cloth sleep longer at night, have fewer blowouts, and fewer cases of diaper rash.  Sounds good to me! (Side note: explaining to Kyle what a blowout is and how it happens was a really memorable occasion).

3.  I wouldn't consider myself a very "green" person (even though it is so chic these days), but the idea of saving about 3000 disposable diapers from the landfill each year feels like a pat on the back!  (And really there should be some good karma in store for that, don't you think?)

4.  They aren't like they used to be!  You can get all in one cloth diapers that don't require any kind of pinning, folding, or stuffing.  They literally work just like a disposable, only you don't throw them away when you're done.  I would never go for cloth if I had to fold or pin anything.  I'm just not that dedicated.  (How did our moms and grandmas do it?!?)

5.  Most importantly, they also come in prints that are really just so cute.

see!?!

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BUT I am not 100% sold on cloth because:

1.  You gotta rinse off the poop.  Now, I don't think I will have much of a problem with this, but I do fear for the health and sanity of Kyle.  He already has a gagging aversion to poopy diapers and if he has to rinse them out himself.... I'm afraid he may never change another diaper again.  The folks at Young House Love mentioned the diaper sprayer they use and love and I think this could really make a difference here but just the same, we're talkin' about poop.  And poop makes Kyle gag. 

2.  Time.  I plan to be working from home a lot once we have the baby and I worry that the added step of rinsing #2 diapers and doing laundry every 1.5 days might be more than I can handle.  On top of the usual feeding, bathing, burping, and general overall exhaustion that seems to come with motherhood.  Am I perhaps taking on too much by wanting to use cloth??

3.  Another thing I've read about cloth is that you need to change the baby really soon after you notice a wet diaper, or he could end up with diaper rash.  However, I'm not all that concerned about this because isn't it the same with disposables?  Leaving a kid in any kind of a wet diaper for a long time can't be good, cloth or disposable.

Things that also should be mentioned:
1.  I wouldn't go 100% cloth.  For example: road trips, baby sitters, and spending the day away from home would all warrant the use of disposables.  (See? I'm not really very green after all)

2.  Our plan for now is to get a couple of cloth and to use them on a trial basis for awhile just to see if we can cut it.  If it's good to go, then we'd invest in more.

3.  I would totally be using the diaper sprayer, so if you come over and wonder why there's a shower head on our toilet, don't mistake it for a bidet.

 

So tell me friends, what's your opinion on cloth? 

Do you think I'm crazy??
Do you wish you had a bidet?

I'm a novice mom-to-be and trust me, I need all the help I can get.

From a Fourth-Story Window

Sometimes I like to eat my lunch by the window and peer at the people four stories below.  The other day I noticed a man with knee pads climb into a dumpster.  It was a very large dumpster and it made me physically ill (still does) to think about just what he might be wading through.  But then he emerged with two long strips of carpet.  Hmm... carpet.  Why would he need to retrieve carpet strips from a dumpster? 

Here is what I know of this man:

1. He was probably not homeless

2. He was wearing a uniform

3. Also, knee pads

4. He drove a little cart

I ran through different scenarios leading up to dumpster carpet retrieval and imagined the following conversational scenarios:

"Andre," (he looked like an Andre) "The Chesterfields have changed their minds about the carpet after all.  Go fetch it from the dumpster."

Or rather, "Andre, Mrs. Chesterfield specifically asked for the carpet in the dancing room to be removed, not from the foyer (pronounced "foy-yay")!"

"Andre, I've had it with your stupid knee pads!  I'm throwing you and your carpet out!"  Then Andre sulks to the dumpster alone, to retrieve the remains of his lost relationship, and carpet.

Also I had thoughts about a cat scratch tower.  Carpet is good for those, I think.

What I have learned from this:

1. Knee pads are probably a good idea when dumpster diving

2. Always listen carefully to the Chesterfields

3. Really you wouldn't want to have carpet in the dancing room in the first place

An Ode

The first time I ever walked into an Anthropologie was sometime just before the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City (circa 2001-ish).  And I fell in love.  I am pleased to see that now the Anthropologie is super tres chic and you will likely find an ode to Anthropologie on just about any blog these days.  But the fame is not unwarranted.  It is a magical place that has always stayed true to its aesthetic. 

So when I found myself face to window with the enlightened goodness last night, I knew that to go inside was the right thing to do.  I have a testimony of the Anthropologie.

It smelled like a dreamland and instantly inspired my more creative senses.  I lusted over latte bowls and shower curtains and even made eyes at the darlingest set of dish towels ever known to man!  I felt compelled to travel Morocco and India!  I wanted to break out oil and canvas on the streets of Paris!  I wanted to move my bed to an empty warehouse and decorate it with colorful chachkies and chippy paint! 

I didn't dare venture too far into the clothing because, well, you know there's this thing about my awkwardly growing shape these days.  But more so, if I dare fall in love with something, I'm not sure I could handle the drama of a potential checkout: either destroy our carefully laid out budget for a small shopping bag of happiness, or cry myself to sleep over what might've been.

And it came to pass that someday in the distant future, I became a millionaire and bought frivolous cardigans to my heart's content.

Until that day, my creative soul admires from a distance the bird lamps, crewel work lampshades and pillows, and the painfully wonderful cardigans.  Oh the cardigans...

Be still my heart.

Lady Lumps

Okay I'm all about savoring memories and whatever, but have you seen/heard of/done a belly cast?!?

Behold:

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Is this not strange and a little creepy to anyone else?  I mean, really.  I'm a supporter of fine art and all, but this is a category all its own.

However, I did find this one on flickr and its sparkly ways almost had me convinced this was a good idea:

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But rest assured, I'll not be casting my body parts anytime soon.

{for extra fun, look here}

A Confession

Ok I'm just going to come out and say it: I am not a pet person.

Before you go all Sarah Mclachlan on me, I assure you, I have tried.

Exhibit A: Dog

My earliest pet memory was Chester the border collie.  I was about 4 years old when my parents broke the news that Chester had to go live a better, philanthropic life with a blind sheep herder.  Years later I discovered there was, in fact, no blind sheep herder.  Chester went to the humane society.  Although, in my mom's defense, she still claims "Well, he certainly could have been adopted by a blind sheep herder!!" 

(love you, mom)

Exhibit B: Cats

We later adopted brother and sister calico kittens (aptly named Callie and Cocoa).  These were the best pets ever because they never came inside.  They were outdoor cats (is that even allowed anymore?) and we would put food out for them every morning and they'd hang around the house and fight with raccoons.  Sometimes my sisters and I would sneak the cats indoors just to see if we could fit our doll clothes on them.  They loooooved playing dress up!

Exhibit C: Lizard

As a tender-hearted third grader, I volunteered to take home my school science project: the anole lizard.  I did love Kirby, even though he may have lost a tail here or there and fed on crickets that terrorized my room at night.  Eventually he had a tragic death (old age?) and I cried.

Exhibit D: Dog Part II

My parents went to Europe and I was left in the care of my older sisters.  So, what did we do?  Adopt a dog!  Kaci the puppy turned into Kaci the horse-dog and proceeded to destroy everything in our house: Christmas ornaments, furniture, laundry, etc.  One day my mom gave up and returned Kaci to the humane society.  No one noticed for three days.

Exhibit E: Rabbit

My college roommate decided one day that we needed a pet.  So we went pet shopping and decided to come home with a tiny rabbit we named Bella.  The rabbit was small, but not for long.  And you know, "people" say you can house train rabbits but I just don't believe it.  That rabbit pooped on everything!  Turns out our landlord (the roommates dad, of all people) was not pleased with the rabbit in our house so an ex-boyfriend offered to babysit her until I moved out.  I never retrieved the rabbit.  I hear she grew to epic proportions.

So you see, I've not had very much luck with pets.  I can't relate to Kyle's treasured stories of his childhood dog, and I didn't cry at the end of Marley & Me.  And while I desperately love my sister's Yorkie with all my heart and think a Westie would be adorable, I know myself and my weaknesses.  I am just not a good pet person. 

On the plus side, we do have a down comforter that sheds tons of tiny goose feathers that make us feel more like pet owners.  And I'm okay with that.  The comforter doesn't bark, eat obnoxious crickets, or poop all over everything.

The Great Discovery

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I probably should have figured this out already.  I mean, we have been married for one whole year, four months, and five days.  I should be a marriage veteran by now, for Pete's sake! 

Not so. 

The Great Discovery:

my husband is not my girl friend

He does not squeal when I mention that so-and-so is getting married/having a baby/buying a house

He does not ooo and ahhh over my new sparkly bow shaped ring

He does not gasp in surprise when I read that Lanvin is collaborating with H&M

He does not care about Pantone's Spring 2011 color forecast

He does not want to watch "Say Yes to the Dress"

He does not want to watch "Keeping up with the Kardashians"

He really does not want to watch "Project Runway" (but when he does, I think he secretly kind of likes it)

He is not excited about the Victoria's Secret semi-annual sales.

Oh wait, maybe he is.

But he definitely doesn't drool over Amy Butler fabrics. 

My husband is many things: he is my best friend, a good cook, a bbq aficionado, a connoisseur of movies, a neat freak (thankfully), and a devotee of taking out all of the garbage on a regular basis (and I never have to ask!)  He is all these things and more. 

But, he is not my girl friend.  He is good to smile like he cares or raise an eyebrow with a mumbled "ahh" when I get excited about fashion/fabric/friendly gossip, but I am finally learning to never expect the same reactions from him that I would get from my girl friends.

(Darling, I do love you anyway)

Eggs & Such

How you like your eggs is a very personal thing, but don't you think?  I am just sure you can tell so much about a person just by knowing how they like their eggs.  I don't know what it is that it tells.... but, you know.

Really, I love eggs and I'll take them just about any way you wanna make 'em for me, but my very favorite is the way that my grandma taught me.

1.  Crack two eggs into a hot frying pan.

2.  Let them cook a little while until the whites start to become opaque.

3.  Put a little hot water in the lid of the pan and quickly dump it into the frying pan, and cover with the lid. 

4.  Let the eggs cook until the tops steam a pinkish color.

5.  Eat the best half-poached eggs of your life.

Like so*:

Now, if you were me (and aren't you glad you're not?) you would toast up some buttery toast and slap pieces of egg on top for a sort of egg sandwich with kind of poached eggs.  (The toast is perfect for sopping up running yolks)  (If you don't like running yolks... well, then, I'm not sure we can be friends)

*Do excuse my cell phone photography.  It's too much work for me to dig out my not-so-fancy camera and download images for da blog.  Besides, my eggs were getting cold.

Of Airports and Blogs

Denver International Airport

Last week I was sitting at gate B14 or something just minding my own business with my Starbucks blueberry scone and orange juice, waiting to board my plane.  I was contemplating the right time to finally apply my makeup when this guy came over and asked to sit two seats over from me.  I told him it was fine as long as he did not sit right next to me.  I need my personal space, you know.  (I am just so witty like that).  I thought he would leave me alone after that, but I soon discovered that he was insistent on talking the rest of my trip to Colorado.

The next question I got was "Well, you obviously know what I do, but what do you do for a living?"

I did not obviously know what he did.  I actually thought he was a flight attendant or some kind of co-pilot or something because he had a military-like jacket with some wingy type things on it.  Clearly I know nothing about nothing because I realized later he is in the Navy.  (I'm an idiot).

He commented on the lack of shine on my boots and how I was drinking the wrong brand of orange juice and was terribly surprised when I told him I am Mormon.  "I normally have a good radar about these things!"  He exclaimed.  I wondered what his perception of Mormons is (or of me) for him to be so surprised by this news.

At this point, he was not at all surprised when I told him I have a blog.  He actually rolled his eyes and said something to the effect of, "Oh of cooourrsee you do.  Why do so many Mormon women blog anyway?"

I had no answer.  Just that I like to blog and I also happen to be Mormon.  I have thoughts and ideas and funny things that happen (like talking to strangers in airports) that I like to write down in my spare time.  So there.

At any rate, I laughed to myself when I heard about this article on salon.com addressing this very issue (as well as the succeeding article here about the salon.com article).  I had to laugh when the author referenced Anthropolgie-like closets and something about domestic life made easy.  No really, I'm laughing.  My closet is far from Anthropolgie-esque and I hardly consider my domestic life easy.  Although Kyle has been doing the grocery shopping lately...

Anyway, I loved that the author felt that "Mormon mommy blogs" were uplifting (albeit strangely uplifting) and I hope in some sense along the way, this little blog of mine has been uplifting for someone.  Oh yeah, even if that someone is me.  :)

So what do you think about "Mormon mommy blogs?" 

Do you have thoughts on why so many Mormon women blog?

Did you also read this article?

All Complicated and Screwy

this week the baby is the size of a lemon.

Someone inquired of me today, "Have you felt life yet?"

I just stared dumbly trying to think about how I was supposed to answer.  

Oh, but what she really meant was, "Have you felt the baby move yet?"  Only when she asked I had forgotten I was pregnant and moreover, had yet to consider the fact that there is a life, a real life life inside.  Now that is some weirdness for your deep thinking.  Two heartbeats in one body. 

Pregnancy, for me, is one of those things that you think about before it happens and you don't really know what all the fuss is about.  Its one of those things that sounds so simple in theory and yet when you're finally ready for it, it suddenly becomes all complicated and screwy. 

And why is it that no one tells you what really happens to your body until after its too late?!?  People only talk about cravings, morning sickness, and mood swings.  What they don't tell you is your back is probably going to hurt (all the time), your nose will probably always be stuffy, you will probably have terrible heartburn, your dreams will probably become psychotic/psychedelic, and you might possibly grow hair in places you did not ever wish to have hair.  Not to mention the laundry list of other unpleasant, uncomfortable, and relatively unmentioned pregnancy symptoms that come with the job.

Okay but back to the question.  Yes, I have felt "life."  There are sometimes subtle movings and twitchings that are strange and different and altogether wonderfully exciting!  But in between those times of flutterings, I have to wonder, is this for real??

To make things seem more real, I do what every girl does best: shop!  What better way to plan for Baby than to spend Internet time searching for the perfect classy diaper bag?  Or a high rated bottle warmer?  Moses basket, anyone?  I must confess, it is all too terribly exciting!  (Seriously, Moses basket, I want you)

I am just thankful we ditched the cable (again) so I am no longer tempted to watch TLC's A Baby Story or Bringing Home Baby which inevitably freak me out.  And then make me cry.

But I guess that comes with the territory.

Hello Goodbye

Oh Second Trimester, how nice of you welcome me with tears of nonsense.

I always love it when I cry about nothing. {insert sarcasm}

The problem is, you see, I had to do that thing that I hate so much this weekend and I had to do it twice: fly.  Yes, yes, I do hate to fly.  It's not a downright phobia, but there are times when I am trapped in that cylinder with a hundred strangers careening through the sky miles above earth when I feel like I might just explode if I don't get off right this minute.  But of course I cannot get off right this minute and so I reassure myself with a combination of Marie Claire and my own meditation chant of sorts: "Everything's going to be fine, everything's going to be fine, everything...."  

Which reminds me, where did yoga ever go from my life?  We used to be so close.

{But did anyone else read the issue with the Amy Adams interview?  I kind of love her}

So now I'm eating eggs and toast with chocolate milk while my darlingest husband is grocery shopping.  Grocery shopping!  He's doing the grocery shopping!  I mean, do I have any duties left around here anymore?  I have been transformed into a baby incubator and that's about it.  Also, I sometimes work full time during the week and perhaps fly to Colorado for work every so often.

And then I get tired.  Really, really tired.  Too tired to fix dinner.  And then I cry.

So now I need a nap.

The End.

A Public Service Announcement

I cannot say enough how much I am in love with my juicer.

Here you see green apple, orange, and pink grapefruit juices, juiced by yours truly.  I'm tellin' you, this juice doesn't even taste at all like the kinds from the store.  And to make it better, there are no preservatives, no artificial anything, and no sugar (except for whatever is naturally in the fruit, of course).

This is the juicer Kyle got for me and I think for what it can do, it was a great value.  Someday it might be nice to get one of the really expensive kinds that are so super that you don't even have to peel the oranges and grapefruits!  But really I'm getting quite good at peeling citrus these days and maybe it is good for me after all.  By way of information, I only have to peel fruits with hard rinds like oranges, grapefruits, pineapples, etc.  The apples were good to go.  We've also juiced carrots and celery (carrot juice is awesome!)

Anyway, do yourself a favor and make your own juice.  You will so not regret it!

Scene From a Sick Day

I think that probably every time I get a sickness I blog about it.  But don't you like to hear about when I am ill?  The thing is I am home in the stupid winter and its stupidly cold outside and as much as all I want to do is stay in bed in a semi-horizontal position (lay flat and be sure, I'll never breathe again), I am terribly bored  and daytime television is just really not so much my cup of tea.

And so I blog.

The worst part about being home sick is that I'm surrounded by all the things I would like to/need to/should've done already and yet it hurts to move.  My sewing room is in terrible disarray (again), I have papers to file, things to mail, clothes to get rid of, dishes to put away, laundry to fold, blah blah blah.

But I think I'm going back to bed for awhile.

A Poem

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I has a cold and it's really sad.

It's the second cold in four months I've had.

My nose is a lovely shade of red.

I can only sleep sitting up in bed.

I'm perpetually about to sneeze.

I would really like some Sudafed, please.

During My Weeks Of Silence

All the things I wanted to say about being pregnant but couldn't during my weeks of silence.

(November 21, 2010)

It is still November and I'm not posting this today because we aren't going to make "the announcement" until after my January doctor's appointment. My pregnancy was confirmed today and we are, of course, SO HAPPY!! In reality, I'm still in shock. Still in disbelief. Still nauseas. Still kinda freaking out.

As soon as I got back from the doctor's office, Kyle took me out to dinner and then we scoured Target for "What to Expect When You're Expecting." The doctor recommended it, and believe me, Kyle takes the doctor's recommendations very, very seriously.

For further example: the doctor told me to drink at least four glasses of milk a day. FOUR! I don't even drink one as it is and I only really drink milk when I'm eating chocolate so this is new for me. Anyway, when we got home, Kyle poured me a huge glass of milk and said "finish this and drink one more before you go to bed!" Uh, unless he is going to supply me with endless amounts of chocolate, there is no way. I'm just not a milk drinker.

(November 22, 2010)

I went to the pharmacy for some hard core prenatal vitamins and saw other (more visibly) pregnant women everywhere! I wanted to run up to them with a big high five! A belly bump! A "you go girl!" Okay, maybe not.... that was never really cool to say, was it? At any rate, I'm finally "in." You know, part of the secret society of women with fetuses. The exclusive club I have wanted for so long to be a part of. I'm in! High five me!

(November 24, 2010)

It is so hard to keep this pregnancy a secret. Every time I talk to someone on the phone, whether it's family or work related, I want to answer "Hi this is Kourtney and I'm pregnant, how can I help you?" I've literally had to stop myself from saying something similar on more than a few occasions.

Right now I'm only 6 weeks along, which is not very much when compared to the 34 to go (15% finished!) but I have already managed to use the "pregnancy card" to my advantage.

Exhibit A: Due to fumes I was absolved from cleaning the showers.

Exhibit B: I was excused from the heavy lifting involved in our recent moving around of things.

Exhibit C: I can totally justify eating four Oreo truffles at a time(you know, so I can drink the milk after)

(December 3, 2010)

Someone please explain to my husband that hormones are real and beastly and sometimes take over my body and make me cry/scream/laugh hysterically at all the most inappropriate times. And at the most ridiculous things.

A car alarm went off 22 times in 2 hours today and I about had a nervous breakdown.

I just went from sweating like a pig to being freezing cold in a matter of minutes.

I nearly had a panic attack because I couldn't decide which 11" x 14" print to order and then after I placed the order I changed my mind and I couldn't go back and then well, the damage was done.

I slept 9.5 hours last night, 38 minutes on the bus this morning, and 24 minutes at lunch. And I'm still so tired.

I am hot. I am cold. I am yes. I am no. I am in. I am out. I am up. I am down.

I am an indecisive emotional roller coaster with a hyper-sensitive thermostat. Welcome, Little Fetus, and thank you for already driving me crazy! (But really, I'm so excited about you).

(December 7, 2010)

Today I am 8 weeks pregnant and I want to barf. If I didn't have such a phobia of barfing, I would probably just barf a few times and feel better. But, no. I hold it in. I moan and ache and writhe in bed for hours. I make Kyle fix me nachos for dinner because, of course, the only thing I want to eat is Mexican food. (Mexican food?) This is somewhat comforting unto me because I know that I am pregnant because who in their right mind simultaneously wants to barf and enjoy greasy Mexican food? Seriously. Burritos. Nachos. Quesadillas. I want it all. Also, there is the cranberry juice. I don't know what it is, but all I want to drink is cranberry juice. I stated my case for a solid week before Kyle surprised me with my very own jug. The jug that didn't last 24 hours in our fridge...

And there was that time just last weekend when I downed an entire container of clam dip. With chips. Ironically enough, I have no desire to even come near clam dip right now.

Ready for more food strangeness? My lunch of choice yesterday was cottage cheese topped with pickled beets, hard boiled eggs, cherry tomatoes and mandarin oranges.

(January 3, 2011)

So far I have cried stupidly about:

1. Taking down the Christmas tree
2. Kyle trying on a suit
3. Forgetting to buy milk
4. Taylor Swift appearing on Rachel Ray
5. Feeling fat
6. Going to bed
7. Live to Dance
8. The Constitution
9. The Saint Jude commercial with Jennifer Aniston
10. Just because

All this crying is, I suspect, just a way to prepare for all the crying that babies do. Wait, does that make me a baby? I guess maybe I had it coming.

Sounds Like a Personal Problem

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Not that I'm some sports aficionado or anything, but I have watched more than my fair share of professional sports in my 16 months or so of marriage and I have some thoughts about some of these team names.  Namely those of the NBA and NFL.  First, here are some questions:

1. Why do some teams use the state in their name and some only use the city?  I get it when there are more than one team in a state, but at the same time, there are the LA Clippers and the LA Lakers and no one seems confused by this? For example:  Why not the Salt Lake City Jazz?  Or the Colorado Broncos?  Or the Georgia Hawks?  When I asked Kyle this, he just rolled his eyes and explained that those names just sounded lame. 

2.  Why do some mascots have nothing to do with the team name?  Example: the Utah Jazz.... Bear??  Bear? What does a bear have to do with jazz?  I mean, would not a dancing saxophone or musical note be more appropriate?  Albeit more lame-looking...  but still.  However, I do think the Jazz Bear is really cool.  Even if he isn't jazzy.

3.  Who gets to pick these team names anyway?  And didn't anyone ever say, "What the heck?!" When some of the names were announced?  Some I think are better than others.

TOP 5 COOLEST TEAM NAMES

1.  Phoenix Suns.  I get this.  Phoenix=hot=sun.  It works. 

2.  Dallas Cowboys. Again, it just make sense.

3.  Philadelphia Eagles.  Eagles are cool.

4.  Arizona Cardinals.  Cardinals are not as cool as eagles, and I don't think they fall under the category of "manly beast" or anything, but I like cardinals.  They are pretty.  And all that shade of red is really quite flattering.

5.  Minnesota Vikings.  Vikings are mean.  Vikings are manly.  Vikings killed people.  Good name for a football team.

TOP 5 "WHAT THE HECK" TEAM NAMES

1.  Indiana Pacers.  Excuse me, but what is a pacer?

2.  Washington Wizards.  I mean really, a wizard?  That's almost as bad as a lambkin (my high school mascot)

3.  Denver Nuggets.  Now, I am a lover of all things Colorado, but a nugget?  It doesn't sound at all menacing.  See also: lambkin.

4.  Cleveland Browns.  Browns?  Sounds like a personal problem...

5.  Green Bay Packers.  Its supposed to be a cheese packer?  Is that right?  I should google that.  I'm actually on the fence with this, because I think it has good reference to the area and I'm all for that.  But just the same... a packer? 

So there you go.  My opinion is neither here nor there, but sure enough, this is what I think about while ESPN is on.  Which is pretty much always.

As a side note, I really love the Stanford Tree.

My Knight in Cotton Armour

Ok so now that everyone knows I'm pregnant, I can tell you my moments of shame without incurring judgment.  Right?  Because its always the crazy hormones that make you nuts.  Right?  Right.

So the other night we were laying in bed watching The Office (hello, best show ever!) when something Pam Beasley said reminded me that my wonderful darling grandparents (thank you Grandparents!) sent us a Christmas card with a monetary gift card.  You know, like one of those Visa kinds that's everywhere you want to be?  Yeah, well I left the gift card in the Christmas card and left the Christmas card on the Christmas card holder and last week I told Kyle he could dispose of all the Christmas cards.  And the gift card was still inside!!  Because really, like Kyle would know that I had left the gift card in there.  Poor guy.

I instantly burst into tears as Kyle said he would get me another gift card and then I screamed something about how it wasn't the same and cried myself to shame.  While I had a temporary mental breakdown, my nearly-perfect man of a husband actually went outside in his underwear and slippers and dug through the garbage until he found.... the gift card.  Trash day is today and the card (and what's left of my sanity) had been spared, thanks to my knight in cotton armour.

I don't know what I did to deserve such a patient and awesome guy who would suffer bitter cold and kitchen garbage for me... but I tell you what, he's gonna be my baby's daddy and I am really quite pleased about that.

"New Post"

Do you know how fun it is to have a last name like Post?  And to have a blog?  Every day for the last six weeks or so, I look at "New Post" and "Create Post" and laugh to myself because really, a new Post is most certainly on it's way!

Enter obligatory ultrasound picture:

See??? a NEW POST!

Bwahaha.

Coming to a nursery near us in July 2011.

You may now fill the comments with excitement : )

Don't Try This at Home

This is just an example of what can happen when you lose your mind.

For Christmas, a lady at work gave me this litle bundle of spices that you are supposed to boil in water to make your whole house smell wonderful and delicious.  And believe me, it smelled wonderful.  Also, delicious.  I loved it. 

So, while home the other day, I decided to boil it up.

It boiled and boiled and my whole house smelled like pure happiness.

And then it kinda smelled like burning.

And then I looked in the pot to discover that all of the water had boiled out, and the little cheesecloth sack had effectually melted to my very best pot! 

What was I thinking?!?!

Needless to say, the whole house then smelled bad.

But I am pleased to report that after an hour of scrubbing, I finally got all the melted fibers off the bottom of my pan.

This rivals, but maybe does not surpass, that one time that I put the plastic milk cap on a still-hot burner while making macaroni and cheese....  Or that other time that I left a dozen eggs on the stove and turned on the wrong burner....  Or the other time that I put a glass baking dish on the stove and turned on the wrong burner...(twice)

Probably I should not be allowed to operate the stove.

Plastics melt, egg cartons catch on fire, and glass baking dishes burst into tiny little pieces.

Probably I Didn't Get The Memo

I got on the bus this morning, traveled 45 minutes to work, walked a block in below freezing temperatures, and then realized the offices were closed.  All of them!  I had no work!  I had a holiday and I didn't know it!!  How sad is that??  To make it even more sad, I had no bus to get on to get back home.  So I called my Kyle, took the train as far as it would go, and he picked me up and took me back to my bus stop to get my car.

Basically I spent 2 hours on public transportation this morning.  For nothing.

But I did laugh.

So with my new day off I played handyman.  I possibly fixed the paint sprayer, attempted to fix the garage door opener (hello, home warranty!), painted a darling old table, rearranged furniture and removed a ceiling fan.  And then made another batch of fresh squeezed orange juice because, hello! Have you ever tried it?  I'm addicted.  It's frothy and sweet and nothing like store bought orange juice (I may never go back).

So cheers to paid holidays! And frothy orange juice!

A List

THE 10 GREATEST THINGS OF 2011 SO FAR:

1.  We put my new juicer to good use and had the very best fresh squeezed orange juice ever!

2.  Our backyard looks like a perfect winter wonderland.

3.  Our garage door may or may not be broken but that is okay because our house is still under warranty!

4.  We have a really cool date on Tuesday!

5.  I fell asleep last night watching a movie in bed! (yes, Kyle won the T.V. debate and we now have a T.V. in our bedroom)

6.  Kyle, who just said "Who has two thumbs and wants to be on your list?"  Yes, he definitely is always on my list of greats.

7.  We started off the New Year without Christmas decorations!  (and already our house feels so much cleaner)

8.  "Def Leppard still rocks!" (Kyle)

9.  We got to ring in the New Year with great friends and food!

10.  Kyle has learned a valuable lesson: don't do laundry with chapstick in your pockets.