A Small Improvement

Today was decidedly much better than yesterday. Although unlike yesterday, someone actually went to the hospital today. The emergency room in fact.

You see, Stephanie doesn't get along very well with cabinets.

She appears to be having fun in a cabinet here. She's all blond curls, smiles, and cuteness. But cabinets don't actually like her. In fact they wish to do her harm.

Today while at work, Stephanie hit her head so hard on a cabinet, her supervisor sent her to the emergency room. The emergency room. For bonking her head on a cabinet. Stephanie had been bent over looking for something and one of the kids (she works at a daycare center) yelled that she could see Stephanie's tattoo. So Steph snapped upright to pull up her jeans and smacked her head into a cabinet. See kids, tattoos are dangerous.

Now she has to stay up all night and do laundry in order to avoid falling asleep with her mild concussion.

Poor Stephie!

Worst. Day. Ever.

Today has been the Worst Day Ever. Ok, it could have been a lot worse. No one went to the hospital or faced financial ruin. But still, it was one of those days where every little thing makes you want to scream bloody murder. Normally, I would deal with one of these days by crawling into bed with a bottle of Chardonnay and a straw to watch crappy reality television. For obvious reasons, I need another way to vent my frustration, hence this blog.

First of all, today is Monday and I woke up late cursing the fact that it was Monday. And my house was really, really cold. That is never fun, having to wake up on a Monday to a freezing cold house. The morning progressed well enough until I got dressed for work. Getting dressed at four months pregnant is not fun. Everyday something new doesn't fit. Things are getting tighter and more uncomfortable. But I had a cute dress picked out, that still fits and is flattering. I pull on my black tights to go with my dress and notice that there is a big hole in the leg. Crap. That was the last pair of black tights that I have that fit. All I had left was a pair of brown tights, but I didn't have a cute brown dress to wear. So I begrudgingly put on the brown tights and a brown skirt. The skirt fit fine. It's sweaters that I have a problem with because of my ever growing, motherly chest. I settled on a sweater set and went to work looking like an Ann Taylor sausage.

I get in my car and realize I have zero gas. But I woke up super late so I have no choice but to drive to work on fumes and get gas on my way to my afternoon meeting. I drive to work getting emails on my blackberry the whole time from my boss to come talk to him when I get in. Great, now he is going to know just how late I am.

At work, I'm just frustrated and crabby. I was tired, I looked like a sausage, my tights were cutting off all oxygen flow, etc. In this crabby, frustrated state I start to think of all the little things Brady did over the weekend that pissed me off. Like not carrying the vacuum cleaner upstairs the second I asked him to. You know, important stuff. So I bombard Brady with bitchy text messages for a couple of hours. And, gasp!, he doesn't immediately respond. What the hell? What, is he working or something? How rude. This makes me even more crabby.

Then I heat up the leftovers I brought for lunch and they smell like feet and I can't eat them. And my apple slices were brown. Now I'm crabby, frustrated, and starving.

I go about my work and then suddenly realize that I need to haul ass out of my office so I can get gas and get to my meeting on time. I drive to the gas station and circle and circle and circle waiting for an open pump. I finally get one and realize I don't have my wallet with me. I had to switch my hot pink Coach purse to my neutral Louis Vuitton purse because I was wearing a red sweater. There was no way I was going to look like a sausage and carry a clashing purse. The gas light is on, so I pray that I make it to my meeting.

I go to my meeting and get into a huge yelling fight with opposing counsel. He was rude and I refused to back down. Funny thing was, back when I was in law school I interviewed for a position at his firm and got it. I turned it down because of his reputation for being an asshole. I clearly made the right decision.

My meeting ends and I head up, praying, begging, that I make it home without running out of gas. I get off of the freeway, I'm so close, and my car begins to slow down and jerk, then it starts to seize up. I'm running out of gas. I manage to get over to the right lane and turn down a side street before I completely run out of gas. Luckily, even though I didn't have any money on me, I randomly had my Triple A card. So I called and the tow truck comes. He informs me that there is a $7 charge for gas. I explain that I have no money because I left my wallet at home. Hello, if I had $7 I would have bought some freaking gas! He says he will give me a little bit. I barely get home, get my wallet and fill up my tank.

I'm finally home, eating a snack, wearing comfy clothes. I sit down at the computer to review the file for my meeting tomorrow and realize I have forgotten the important part of the file at my office. Ugh, I give up. I'm off to bed to watch reality t.v. and eat oreos. Oreos are no Chardonnay, but they will do.

Renewals

Today at church we celebrated the Baptism of the Lord so the homily was all about renewing your baptismal promises and recommitting yourself to the Church. I was baptized in the Catholic Church when I was 7 years old and have renewed my baptismal promises several times over the years (you do it at baptisms, when you are confirmed, at certain masses, etc.) I always try to pay attention to the promises that I am making to the Church, the rejection of evil, and such. But tonight I paid extra special attention and really affirmed my baptism with a special kind of gusto because it felt so much more important to do so while being pregnant. My faith has waxed and waned over the years, but I feel it is really important to raise my child in my faith and for myself to have a strong foundation in that faith if I am going to pass it down to my child. When my child is old enough to make educated decisions, I will allow him to choose his own path, but until then I consider it my job to lead him down the path of faith.

While I was sitting in church, thinking about renewals of promises, I started thinking about an episode of Real Housewives of Orange County. Ok, I know I was supposed to be concentrating and I swear I had been all along but this episode just randomly popped in my head. I am a good Catholic, not a perfect one! Anyways, in this episode Vicki and Don renew their wedding vows at this awesome beach location. So I started thinking about renewing my wedding vows with Brady. Not necessarily having a ceremony, but going away for a little romantic vacation before the baby comes to renew our promises to one another and have some fun.

When I got home from church, I asked Brady if we should go on a "babymoon." He said yes immediately! Today I reaffirmed my faith to my church and decided to renew my promises to my husband on a "babymoon." Now we just need to figure out somewhere to go. Not bad for a lazy Sunday. Oh and we went to Ikea and bought a bookcase today. Super productive.

Things I Heart

I heart my friends (note: there are some key people missing from this photo but it's pretty hard to get everyone in one spot at the same time. ) I have known these girls since U.C. Santa Barbara (note again: I met Raeanne after college but she went to UCSB too and she's such a kindred spirit I'm shocked I didn't know her in college.) I've been through lots with my girls, lots of fun, lots of craziness, lots of life changes. They are just the best.

I need answers!

Since finding out I am pregnant I have been inundated with information about pregnancy, giving birth, babies, etc. I have all the books (special thanks to Erin!), I read all the websites, I talk to other moms. I know what to expect while expecting, I have a birth plan formulated (drugs please!), and I have a slight clue what to do when the baby gets here (emphasis on slight).

But I still have burning, pressing questions. Questions that I have yet to find answers for.

First of all, how the hell do you tie a moby wrap? This is the most complicated contraption I have ever seen. And is this even remotely comfortable for a baby? Here baby, let me smush you against myself in some kind of crazy t-shirt sling thing. I'm not sure about this one.



Then there is the diaper bag. Should the diaper bag match my stroller or my outfit? Should I have multiple diaper bags to coordinate with all my clothes? I switch my purse almost daily, will I do the same with my diaper bag? Or should the diaper bag match the baby's outfit. See, these are important questions!

All I know right now is that I want this diaper bag.

Isn't this the cutest bag ever!? I love that it doesn't look like a diaper bag. It looks like a super cute purse. Plus it has lots of pockets, stylish yet functional, I like it.

I have many other questions but Teen Mom is on and I'll have to blog about them later. Just as I was obsessed with hot mess, train wreck wedding shows while I was engaged (I love me some Bridezillas), I am now currently obsessed with hot mess, train wreck pregnancy shows.

It's A ........

Today I had an ultrasound at sixteen weeks. Usually one finds out the gender at twenty weeks so I was not sure if I would be able to find out the gender at this ultrasound. Unfortunately, Brady had a deposition today so he couldn't go. We decided if the ultrasound tech could tell the gender, I would have her write it down and put it in an envelope and we would read it together.

So I'm laying there on the table, covered in goo, and the tech says "oh I can tell the gender, do you want to know?" I was so close to saying "yes, tell me right now!" But instead I asked her to please write it down for me and put it in an envelope. Then I asked her how sure she was of it, she said "90-95% sure, it's pretty clear." Well, that totally convinced me it was a boy. I mean, that comment just wouldn't make sense if it was a girl. Brady has been completely convinced it is a boy the whole time, I was thinking girl. But with the tech's comment, I knew it was a boy.

The day dragged on forever and ever. Finally, Brady and I were both home. I handed him the envelope.

And here is Brady right after learning that he is going to have a SON in June. It's a BOY!!!!

And here I am at 16 weeks carrying my son. Ok, this may be more of me carrying the bag of cheddar potato chips I had as a late afternoon snack. But I promise you a baby is in there too.

And here is our baby boy. Aren't ultrasounds so freaky? I mean I can see his little bones. It's totally awesome but freaky too. Modern medical technology is just so strange.

I'm pretty sure this is the money shot although it isn't labeled. I'm not sure because I asked the tech not to point it out to me during the ultrasound and this shot was just included in the cd.

Brady and I are extremely excited about our little boy and that the ultrasound went well. I think Brady is already ordering his first little Michigan jersey. Mickey and I are definitely going to be outnumbered but I'm okay with that. Frank is such a momma's boy, I'm sure my son will be too.