WTFFriday

27 08 2010

WTF Person Who Laughs at Everything,
Just wondering, what is so funny about someone sneezing? No really, let me in on this joke because I don’t get it.
I sneezed, pardoned  myself and you damn near burst your bladder.
I know you’re not that jovial, what’s with the laughing?
Someone brought you a soda? HAR HAR HAR!
Won a scratch-off lottery? HEE HEE HEE!
Ate some chips? HAW HAW HAW!
*blink*

WTF NYS plate “FEWPROUD”,
Clearly you misread your directions about where to turn.
No problem.
Let me let you in on a tip.
If you’ve realized that you no longer have to turn right, slow down, stay on the shoulder,  put your LEFT blinker on, check your mirror, check your blind spot and when you’re certain that a purple Trailblazer isn’t trying to pass you, THEN pull back onto the road.
Also, that BLARING noise in the key of F, that was my horn.
Your driving antics caused me to break a perfectly good glass when my bag when sailing into my dashboard. You owe me $2.
I’m just glad I didn’t have to pee urgently.

WTF Subway and your “Veggie Delight”,
Let me get this straight… you based the nutritional information using the condiment quantity for a “regular” sandwich and that’s why I have to insist on extra extra veggies?
Ah-ha.

WTF NY plate “U2 ROCKS”,
Your driving offends me.
First, that sign that alerted you to upcoming merging traffic means that traffic will be merging. This doesn’t mean that you play flying eagles with another car that is going slower than traffic and then speeds up to pass you.
Secondly, it’s a called a blinker, or in some areas “directional”. Learn it, love it, use it.
Thirdly, when you pass someone, do not SLAM on the brakes as soon as you get in front of them; especially when there’s a good 700 yards between the bumper in front of you.
Fourth, it’s a posted speed limit. If you’re not going to do it, get to the right.

Fifth, I don’t think you realized ANY of the hundreds of other motorists on the road.
And screw your “Pray for all Priests!” bumper sticker. I pray that you don’t kill someone with your driving.

WTF Gestational Diabetes,
You’re only present for a short time after I eat way too much (i.e. chips, salsa and enchiladas at El Canelo).
Case in point, when I ate that leftover cake and tested 45 minutes later, you were at 115. Technically, you should have been higher.
When I get retested in a few months, kindly stick to the levels we’ve been having.

WTF Chocolate Milk,
Why do you rock so hard?
I love you.

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A Showering!

26 08 2010

Sunday was our shower.
Well, I shower everyday, it’d be better to say “Sunday was our Baby Shower”.
All the attention turns me into a babbling idiot. E.G. “Oh, q-tips! For cleaning ears and whatever else gets dirty on a baby!”, “This book may be too advanced for us…”, “IT’S GOT EARS ON IT!”, “How’s Steve supposed to fit into this?!”
The weather was up in the air (no pun intended) as the forecast pretty much changed on an hourly basis. We did get a sprinkle (or a shower, AHAHAHHAHHAHA) while guests were arriving, but besides that, it was warm and humid which did a number on my ankles. Sexy.

Of course, Big Sister to be was out and relished the attention from her new kerchief and from being such a damn fine looking dog:

Yes, I do dress my dog up. Yes, she does enjoy it.

We had a TACO  BAR for lunch.
Mainly because it’s different and because Baby loves Mexican.
And then we had cake.
3 layers of amaretto. Even the small pieces were large.

I thought I had a pre-cut photo, it's somewhere....

It had sugar elephants and tigers on it. I ate a lion. It was yummy.

So many presents!!!
Here’s a snap of showing off a goodie.
I like this photo because I’m smiling (most of the photos find me looking like I opened a box of past-prime-fruit, I’m not good at making faces) and my massive ankles are hidden:

Despite what the box says, I'm pretty sure this doesn't need batteries

Once we got the furniture installed, I was able to start to de-box a few things; just to reduce the clutter a bit.
My parents made a contribution into the new piggy bank:

Deposit

The bill hadn’t even hit the bottom when Steve was out of the room, looking for a hammer:

Withdraw

And of course, if the bed can handle a 65lb dog, it can handle a baby.

If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball

To round things out, here’s photographic evidence of our potential as capable parents:

It takes a village to carry a carseat





Mystery!

15 08 2010

Clue 1)
“Wait, are you saying that you tried to open a can of paint with the wallpaper removal tool?”

Clue 2)
“Don’t worry, I’ll use the scissors…”

Clue 3)
“I’ve got some tape downstairs.”
“Is that hockey tape?”
“Same thing.”

Clue 4)
“I don’t know what hurts worse, my pride or my finger.”
“Probably your pride.”

Clue 5)
“Damn it, if only it were two hours later, I could have just stuck a testing strip in there.”





180

12 08 2010

Okay, okay, I know I’ve been QUITE the grumpy butt as of late.

However, there’s been a change in the tide.
It’s over 12 hours now that I’ve been in a decent mood!

So, yeah, sorry about all of that PEOPLE SUCK AND YOU SUCK AND *RASPBERRY*

Much like when we got the carpet installed (‘cept with more of a bump):

Things that were idealized in my brain began to unravel in foot-stomping-fashion… then I put on my big-girl underpants printed with “HELP” and not-even-close-to-a-real-crisises were averted.
So, Mr. President, you can take your hand off that red phone.





*tap tap* Is This Thing On?

9 08 2010

The way my brain is wired is pretty easy. Relevant [to this posting] nugget include:
If you’re going to take the time to ask someone a question, take the time to pay attention to their answer.

I tend to get frustrated when people bring things up that I presume they know are wrong, just to start a conversation.

I.E. #1
At last month’s 4th of July party, an uncle asked if we were finding out what we’re having.
I told him no.
Over the weekend, I saw said uncle again. He asked if we were going to find out what we’re having.

I.E. #2
4th of July: “Are you feeling the bbaaaaaabbbyyyy*?”
“Sure am!”
This weekend: “Are you feeling the bbaaaaaabbbyyyy*?”
(aside, I have 8-9 weeks to go. If I am not feeling the baby, we have MAJOR issues.)

I.E. #3/4
My parents have lived in Tucson for almost 6 years. Why do some people insist on asking me if they still live in Phoenix? They lived in Phoenix about 8 years ago.
Same goes for my maternal family who live in Small Town Michigan (2 hours south of Detroit)… Steve’s family still thinks they live in Detroit, despite my correcting them multiple times a year. Not that the geographic location matters, it’s more of, “They don’t live in Detroit, they live in Small Town, but (revert to whatever dribble was going on).”

Maybe it’s that whole can-we-talk-about-something-else but I am over being asked, “How are you feeling?” and “Are you excited?”
If you know someone who’s pregnant, stop asking them.
You don’t really want to know about hemorrhoids, bladder weakness, upset stomachs, acid reflux, back pain, midnight charlie horses etc. ** Everyone and their mothers (and fathers. And uncles. And Aunts. And various strangers) are asking them how they feel. Can we talk about the weather (but not related to pregnancy) or the local sports team or something?

Most people are excited to welcome a baby into their lives. If I answer with a dry, “No”, you look at me like I’m the one who is stupid. Why the hell wouldn’t I be excited? Thank you for not asking if I’m nervous or scared or prepared (for the record, “No, because it is what it is, why fret over how horrible it’s going to be?”, “Kind of, just because this is something I’ve never done before.” and “Hahahaha. No. Though, I do have a car seat, stroller, changing table and boppy.”) because I do not want to hear you trying to rationalize WHY I should be scared/nervous; “Oh, you know Family Member almost DIED when she gave birth!”

And to people who do rationalize people’s fear, there’s a monster living under your bed and that lunch meat you made your sandwich with is past  it’s best-by date and tomorrow you’ll find that the next piece of bread in the bag is moldy.

*Yes, that’s how you must refer to spawn. Especially if you’re over the age of 60. No offense to my decent 60+ readers, I know you’d never.
** This author is lucky and has not been plagued by may of this maladies. But you know that because we’ve discussed it.