Thirty and One

Can Can

Once upon a time Zane invited Kyle over to can apples.

And they canned and canned and canned until 1:00 in the morning.

They peeled, sauced and canned apples.

FOR HOURS.

It was nice to not be the one slaving away in the kitchen for once.

Instead, I got to hang out with Rachael.

And we did not help with the canning.

The babies watched Nemo.

(ee!)

We gave our husbands so much crap for canning away in the kitchen...  but in the end, it was actually pretty impressive.

Dozens of jars of applesauce!

And the next day, Kyle spent a whole afternoon canning the rest of the apples.

Now he wants to can everything.

I think we've created a monster.

A Complaint

Okay I love my husband and all but his obsession with barbecue sauce is a little off-putting sometimes.

I mean, the man puts it on EVERYTHING!

I'll spend all this time seasoning a delicious cut of meat and cooking it to perfection only to watch him massacre it with barbecue sauce.

I partly blame myself for introducing him to Sweet Baby Rays, a family favorite.

Just the same, rather than wasting my cooking, I feel like I might as well just slap a hot pocket on his plate.  

It's not like he'd even know the difference under all that barbecue sauce.

On the other hand, when I do occasionally ruin dinner, I can always douse it in barbecue sauce and he'd eat it just the same.

Mustachio

I briefly mentioned earlier this week that Kyle was competing in a mustache contest at work.

I am proud to announce that this here is a prize winning mustache.  

He won FIRST place!

I mean, it's not like I'm surprised or anything.

This baby took a lot of work to be perfect.

(the mustache)

My bathroom sink suffered the most.

I'm still finding whisker pieces.

(so gross)

Mine and Avery's faces were also victims of the mustache's prickly ways.

But we all took one for the team so Kyle could win:

1 movie ticket (because no one would want to go with that)

1 large diet soda (which quickly became mine)

1 candy bar (which never made it home)

He done me proud.

Kyle Loves Movies

happy Kyle the day he bought his blu-ray surround sound system

Kyle loves movies.

Like, a lot.

I think his loves go something like:

1. Family

2. Boise State Football

3. Movies

4. Def Leppard

So I think it's kind of ironic that he married me because I have never in my life purchased a movie for myself.  Kyle has hundreds.  I mean, like close to 1,000.  It's a little ridiculous.

Kyle takes his movie watching very seriously around here and it can sometimes be a really long process.  First, he has to pick out a movie.  The movie we are to watch is usually determined by whether or not I am likely to fall asleep during the movie.  If I am not so tired, he picks a movie I haven't seen.  If I am so tired, he picks one that we've both seen and that probably wouldn't matter if we didn't finish in one night.

Next, he loads the movie and pauses it right as it's about to begin and I sit staring at a paused TV screen until we can finally get this show on the road.

Then, he has to "get situated."  Depending on the time of night, getting situated can mean piling up pillows and blankets, turning off lights, popping popcorn, or scooping ice cream.  If there is anything to be eaten during the watching of the movie, it has to be prepared right now.  

An hour later, we can finally start watching the movie.

But by then I'm tired, and I usually fall asleep.  :)

Eh?

Poor Kyle.  His ears were all plugged up and we tried to remedy it at home...  to no avail.  First we tried the ear drops to loosen everything up but they only made it worse.  After the drops he could hear practically nothing.  I would be talking two feet from his face and he would not know what I was saying.  Alternatively, I wouldn't say anything and he'd start shouting at me, "What did you say?"  This was not good.  Repeating myself is one of my biggest pet peeves and I have no patience for it.  Let me just say this: Kyle's plugged up ears were not good for our marriage.  

I tried to be Super Wife and ran to the store late at night for ear candles for him. They usually work but not this time!  And I burned a stupid hole in the carpet!

Kyle still couldn't hear anything.  He had some training for his new job in the morning and there's no way he would be able to hear anything so he went to urgent care before work and got his ears cleaned out.

Gross.  

So now my husband can hear.  But you know what?  He can hear EVERYTHING.  I had no idea he was so deaf before.  He jumps at the littlest sounds now and I've had to considerably adjust my speaking volume.  And all those nights he slept through Avery's hungry crying?  Haha.  Those are gone :)  

On the up side, at least now I have a glimpse of what our life might be like as old people one day.

DAYS!

So we're down to days until this baby comes.

DAYS!

9 months of waiting and now we only have days to go.

And to all of the following questions, I answer yes yes yes yes YES:

Are you ready for the baby to come?

Are you excited?

Do you have your hospital bags packed?

Any day now?

Do you have what you need?

Is the nursery ready?

and...

Is the car in labor-ready shape?

Yes, most important of all, the car is ready for me to go into labor.  Even though I have an induction scheduled for Tuesday, Kyle has prepped the car with plastic bags and towels just in case my water breaks while I'm riding in the car.

You guys, I wish this was a joke.

He is totally serious.

I mentioned removing them and I got a death stare in response.

The irony of this situation is that I spend most of my days driving the car and not sitting on the plastic and towels.  His logic is totally lost on me, but I guess I should just go along with whatever makes him feel prepared.  And really, it's only DAYS left that I have to put up with it.

(Did I mention we're having a baby in a mere matter of DAYS?!?!)

Dad-to-be

Kyle & our niece, Karli

Yesterday we survived an 8 hour childbirth class.  Let me tell you, it was very enlightening (and today I am paying for all that sitting).  At one point during the live birth videos, while I was trying not to throw up, the girl in front of me burst into tears and one an aisle over had her mouth and eyes gaping wide open.  I'm not sure Kyle was even watching the video but we looked at each other and started laughing.  It's just how us Posts deal with uncomfortable situations.  But then we all looked at newborn pictures and high-fived each other for becoming parents.

Kyle has wanted to be a dad his whole life.  Even his mom can attest to that.  At age 11 he had picked out names for his future kids.  I find this to be kind of odd but I also really love it about him. 

I've long heard that dads-to-be often don't get excited or feel bonded to new babies until they are able to play and interact with them more as toddlers.  Either this is a big fat lie or I married an exception to the rule because anytime we are around a new baby, I have to practically claw Kyle away so I can get a chance to hold it.  He loves babies and is great with newborns.  Now, let's just hope he is also great with diapers.

Early in my pregnancy Kyle came to me very solemnly with a question: "Are you going to hog the baby when it's born?  I mean, I know you're the mom and all... but I don't want you to hog it all the time."  You see, I have no choice but to quit my job to stay at home, otherwise I would not ever get baby time to myself :)

I am officially 34 weeks today and the Dr. is talking about inducing me before my due date (July 31st).  Probably only a week or so early, but we still don't know when for sure.  So while we are still 3-6 weeks away from having a newborn in the house, I'd like to wish a Happy Father's Day to my favorite dad-to-be!

To celebrate Father's Day, Kyle requested steaks, banana chocolate chip cake, and that I enthusiastically sit through 3 hours of the Fiesta Bowl DVD wherein Boise State defeated Oklahoma.  Let the record show that I give my man what he wants.  And I even promised not to hog the baby!

Lucky

Back in the day when we were dating, Kyle used to visit me at work with silly little gifts.*  One such occasion was St. Patrick's day and he surprised me with a bar of Irish Spring soap with a note attached saying how he was so *lucky* to know me.  Also, some roses!  Roses! For an Irish holiday! And I'm not even Irish!  Fun, huh?  Except everyone at work thought maybe Kyle was trying to tell me that I smell.  But I still loved it anyway.  (And besides, I totally didn't smell)

This year for St. Patrick's Day we are celebrating by watching college basketball and decorating the baby's room.  I love it just as much, if not more than the Irish Spring/rose combo.

*Now we work 30 minutes away from each other so lunch surprises are rare

Wise Cracks

i just love this cowboy

My baby doctor is conveniently located in the same hospital that Kyle works at.  We did this on purpose because  he is nice and likes to go to appointments with me.  As such, we were recently sitting in the baby doctor waiting room, Kyle and I, when some of his employee friends walked by and he shouts "Hey guys! I'm just here for my monthly!" 

This is the point where I roll my eyes and smile politely at the 15 other people in the waiting room now staring at us.

Hormonal pregnant wives sometimes are not so fond of funny husbands' wise cracks.

But today I think I can laugh about it.

And on this day I tried to be positive

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I recognize that I am equal parts female, emotional, and pregnant and that this can create quite an unpleasant combination.  I imagine it to be something like the vinegar and baking soda volcanoes you might have made for science class: a slow eruption that smells kind of funny.

As a result, I might have been a little cranky the last few days.  Perhaps a little irritable.  Maybe with some excessive sarcasm for good measure.  I mean, it's all well-intentioned, of course, but probably doesn't make for fine companionship. (Sorry, Kyle)

So today I'm dedicating this post to things that are cool.  Things that I love.  Things that rock my world.  You know, the simple pleasure in life.

1.  First and foremost: Marshmallow Mateys.  I think Kyle bought these for himself, but after the ice cream debacle, I don't think there is any food off limits anymore.  What's yours is mine, baby!  At any rate, Marshmallow Mateys totally rocked my morning.

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2.  Maternity skirts.  After recently ripping a non-maternity skirt, I am ever more grateful for the fact that I have three well-fitting knit maternity skirts to rotate through on a weekly basis.  You see, I work in a place where I have to wear a skirt (or dress) and nylons (or tights) every single day.  I pretty much enjoy a bifurcated garment one day a week: Saturday.  Which is good because I only have one pair of pants that even fit me now.  (hello, I need a shopping spree)

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3.  Maternity leggings.  Now that I've put holes in every pair of nylons I own, I pretty much wear maternity leggings and boots every day.  They're basically tights anyway.

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4.  Eggs.  The news just had a special about how eggs are even healthier than they were 10 years ago: less cholesterol and more vitamin D!  This is especially good for a girl like me who eats 1-4 eggs on a daily basis.

5.  Teenagers.  I know, weird right?  I get to hang out with the young women at church a couple of times a week and they always prove to be a bright place in my dimly lit world of sarcastic gloom.  It doesn't matter how cranky I may be or how gross I might look, they always shower me with compliments and giddy wonderfulness!  Ah, to be 13 again...

6.  This guy.  (You know I couldn't make a list like this without putting him on here!)  Kyle never ceases to make me laugh, even when I'd rather be cranky.  He is the coolest, I sure love him, he definitely rocks my world, and while he may not be simple, he is always a pleasure to be around.

I could go on, but everything else I can think of is food related and I already write so much about food it is becoming an embarrassment.  Just think: pickles, mustard, olives, and frozen yogurt.  You get the idea. 

So what makes you happy?

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)

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.

2010 Calories

While in Idaho for Christmas, Kyle's mom gave him pie-making lessons.  He was so careful to do everything just right so he could make it on his own.

Today, in honor of the eve of the new year, he has made a chocolate pie.

Behold the chocolate cream pie!

(with New Year's embellishments)

Happy New Year!

I will eat an extra piece of pie for you.

Merry Christmas and Blah Blah Blah

Christmas 2010. In fact, the only picture from Christmas day.

As Kati so kindly pointed out tonight, I have not blogged for awhile. 

I promise, there is good reason for this unusual behavior:

1.  We have been in Idaho.  Western Idaho.  Without Internet or cable.

2.  There is a dastardly cold snowstorm outside and I've been too snuggled up on the couch to let my arms out of this awesome down blanket to type up a post.  But maybe I need a Snuggie?

3.  I'm still upset about this whole Christmas business.

Let me tell you...

For Christmas, Kyle and I make each other lists of things we would like.  You know, to make the life of a shopping spouse that much easier.  My list consisted of approximately 87 articles of goodness including, but not limited too: super cute clothing and boots, perfume, juicer, jewelry display, ikea decor, etcetera, etcetera.  Seriously, I made it SO easy for him to pick out some stuff.  It's all about variety, I say.

Kyle's list looked a bit like this:  blu-ray this, blu-ray that, blu-ray something, blu-ray blah blah, blu-ray, blu-ray, blu-ray, Boise State slippers.

Yeah.

So I spent a month or two looking for all these blu-rays he had his heart set on (if you don't know my husband, then you don't know he is a collector of cinema. he currently desires to replace all his favorite action dvds with their blu-ray counterparts)  I found two.  And then in a desperate search for at least one more, I found Mission Impossible: 3 at WalMart just days before Christmas.  Success!! I remember feeling so triumphant as I found 3 of the hard to find blu-rays of wonder.

Enter Christmas Day: We open all our presents full of joy and Christmas cheer.  Shortly after, Kyle points out that the Mission Impossible: 3 "blu-ray" I was so excited to find is actually a dvd.  Crap.

AND THEN just yesterday I discover his secret plans to return another of the actual blu-rays I got him!! Why??  Because he already bought it.  I would be mad at him, but now I actually do remember him telling me a month or so ago to take that one off his list because he found it for a good deal and bought it anyway...

All my efforts traveling from store to store searching for the blu-rays ended up in a 1 in 3 success.  33%.  That, is an F.

You guys, I got an F in Christmas!

Lucky for me, Kyle is a good sport and just laughs it off.  Afterall, he does love his new Boise State slippers.

"Def Leppard Rocks!"

Kyle surprised me by making me a sandwich! For my lunch! Isn't he the best? If you cannot read the love note inscribed on the plastic sandwich bag, it reads as follows:

I LOVE YOU!

You are pretty!

Go Broncos!

Def Leppard Rocks!

Later I had to explain to my senior citizen coworker who Def Leppard is and why it is that they rock. I'm not so sure she was very impressed with the photos she found via Google. But she was impressed by the one-armed drummer. And who isn't? 

Life with Kyle is fun.

The end.

A Melodrama of Sorts

I've had an attitude problem.  Every time I come to blogger to write up a post about nothing in particular I defiantly think back to myself  "No!  No, I won't write anything today!"  And it came to pass that nearly a week has gone by since my last post.  And aren't you so terribly sad?

So I broke a nail. I know, it sounds like such a melodramatic issue, but really, it broke half off.  And I bleeded.  And in case you didn't know, blood=serious injury. Why did I break my nail? Because Kyle decided to sneak attack me and toss me into the Love Sac (very ironic, don't you think? As this attack was not at all very love-ly).  It is such a blur to me now it is hard to remember how it all happened exactly. But somewhere in the tumult of husband to wife tackle and microsuede sacs of love, (half) my fingernail tragically ripped off my ring finger.  I tried to squeeze some kind of sympathy out of Kyle, but he just laughed at my sad remains of a fingernail. And my nails were looking so nice these days.

But you will give me some sympathy, won't you? 

It is November sixteenth and I am exactly two-thirds finished with my Christmas shopping.  The last turd, excuse me, third, is for Kyle. Whatever do you get a sports fanatic movie lover who has both every sports related thing you could think of and also every movie known to man but also happens to not particularly enjoy gifts of the clothing nature? It is a terrible predicament is what it is. And to make matters worse, he has no idea what to get for me. Me! I am seriously the easiest person to shop for. I like everything! Fabric! Food! Clothes! Vacations to Hawaii! Old stuff! He is really the difficult one here, don't you see? My fallback gifts are always clothes, and he has even eliminated that from my list. Whatever shall I do?

Again, I could really use some sympathy here, because you know I won't be getting it from You Know Who.  But anyway, I am going to go make a Christmas list. And pamper my nail. Feel free to send me your sincerest condolences for my sad state of affairs.

He's Got Skillz

This is my Kyle. 

He is the love of my life. 

He is thrifty. 

He is clever.  

He tells me on a near daily basis that he would be a great homeless man.

I suppose that is a good skill to have (you know, if we were ever driven from our home or something terribly tragic as such) and lucky for me my Kyle always likes to be prepared for even the worst of life's situations.  So here are just a few of his ideas for surviving a life on the streets:

1.  Eat grocery store samples and/or even produce

(if you can get away with it)

2.  Walk through fields at night and pick your own produce.

3.  Relocate to a warmer climate and sleep under the stars.  (Who in their right mind would want to be homeless in a Utah winter??)

4. Pretend to be a valet driver and steal cars.

5. Hang out in fast food restaurants and when they set food on the counter for someone to pick up, grab it fast!

Yes, I am so very proud.

*Disclaimer: I do not in any way condone the stealing of food and cars. Take this advice at your own risk.

Fever in the Morning

A few days ago I finally convinced Kyle to replace the missing shingles.  With the baby hurricane we had the other night, I had nightmares that our roof would leak and the wood would rot and we'd have to tear our house apart to fix it and then we'd be broke and have to abandon our house and we'd live in a cardboard box by the river.

But then he fixed the shingles, so we're good.

Only now Kyle has a fever and is convinced he is sick because I made him climb on the roof and brave the wintry cold winds that were the very cause of the missing shingles in the first place.  *sigh*

Since it was "my fault" he got sick, I guess it was only fair that I was up late in the night blotting his head with a cold wash rag, listening to his incoherent mumblings and convincing him he is not going to die of a fever and chills. 

You see, Kyle almost never gets sick and so when he does, it is like the end of the world.  I'm sure it must be just devastating for him to realize he is only human, like the rest of us, but he is kinda cute when he's helpless and sick. 

My poor, vincible Kyle.

Hot Pockets and a Husband-Sitter, Maybe?

Today's email from Kyle:
If you were a breakfast, you would be a HOT pocket. Will you go out with me on Friday night?

I am here to profess my devotion to my husband by telling you all that I gave him the remote promptly at 6:30 p.m. before Project Runway was even over just so he could watch the official start of the NFL season.  I even made him homemade mac and cheese to energize his bones for the "big game."  Also, I attentively listened to all his NFL player facts even when he goes on and on for a long time and I'm not sure what he is talking about anymore.  I mean really, am I good, or am I good? 

Sometimes though I think Kyle forgets I'm his wife and not his guy friend sports buddy who cares about all these little silly facts.  Does he not notice the blank stare on my face?  I have a sports stats threshold and I think he just crossed it.  Oh.  I'm typing this as he's talking and I think he just figured it out.  He just said to me, "I love to talk about sports.  I come home to my wife who will talk to me about purses, but not sports!  I need a son." 

It's true, I did talk to him about purses during the first three commercial breaks but I think I noticed him twitching so I stopped.

Poor Kyle, he needs a son to come home to who will listen to all his sports talk.  I want to remind him that even if we have a son sometime in the not too distant future, it will be several years before he can talk sports with him.  But maybe we'll have one of those child prodigies who learns to talk when he's a year old.  And then he'll be throwing touchdowns by age three.  Is there a gene for that, I wonder?

I think what would be a good idea is to have a husband-sitter.  You know, just a guy who loves sports who will come and sit on our couch and watch sports with Kyle all evening long and have coherent conversations about their fantasy teams.  And NCAA regulations.  And Brett Favre's commitment issues.  And other some such things. 

But until that day, I will continue to listen attentively to all Kyle's NFL player facts and other sports jargon because I love him and he listens to me talk about purses and he may have called me a hot pocket today.  Also, he's just so fun when he's excited like unto a child, even if it is about things like football.