Bedside table of a pregnant woman

No, I'm not pregnant. oh lord let me not be pregnant. I'm not. I swear. I don't think...ok, i'm not. yeah, let's go with that. Not pregnant. But, i have been, twice, which means I am without a doubt knowledgeable about being pregnant. And with this knowledge comes the knowledge of the bedside table of a pregnant woman. And when you are housing an 8 lbs little person, with it's 20 pounds of baggage, you need everything within reach, and within reach is the bedside table.

For example


Note the Tums bottle. No self-respecting pregnant woman would be caught dead without one within reach. Especially with the promise of long periods of being horizontal. Being horizontal is not fun with heartburn.

And the water. The cruel twist of fate pregnant woman are subjected to is increased thirst, and decrease bladder room. You do the math.

And the book. While I'm sure not all women are/were as interested in Natural Childbirth as I am, hands down there is a labour/breastfeeding/newborn book on their nightstand. For me, natural was the key, and this book was great. I read it a few times actually. And made notes. And highlighted. And then promptly forgot all about it during my homebirth. Go figure.

Wowza

Talk about not blogging! ! Look at my lackluster blogging here, way to be a gemini woman. I'm all about the instant gratification, thinking whatever I write will be so gut wrenchingly funny people will email it to their friends, and their friends will email it to their friends, and so on and so on until my blog gets a million hits and I'm on Oprah. Not that I have an ego problem or anything. I'm just a gemini. with red hair. But I digress...

What was I talking about again? Oh right, this blog...I get going, and then get distracted by life and my other blog, then get discouraged that nobody reads and then stop writing. My apologies to my loyal and loving fans. Or Fan. or....wait, can there be a negative fan number? I was never good a physics. Or math for that matter. What, 1+1=2? I think not. it's been my experience that 1+1=3, but since this is still a realtively PG site, I won't go there. yet. Ratings to be reviews. How's that for a paragraph ? Paragraphs should have something in common, right? i was never one to follow the rules. But right, blogging, that's what i'm talking about. I think. Remind me, oh -1 reader? Geez, so much for showcasing that $40,000 worth of prime education, I can't ven write a paragraph!

SO since this post is random at best, and psychotic at most, let me tell you a story of something I saw today.

Scene: country road, me in my trusty loser cruiser with girlfriend asleep in back. The boys are back at home.

"Boom de la la, Boom de la la, shake that fancy butt..." that's me singing. I like to rock out in the van. I'm cool like that.

All at once, my olfactory senses are assaulted with a smell we all loathe. Skunk. ewwwww. ALL together now children, "EWWWWW".

Up ahead I see a cyclist, she appears to pulling over in the gravel shoulder...and slowing down...and stopping, getting off...bending over...wait a second, she's not...she wouldn't, she...EWWW! she picked up the dead skunk, EWWW kooties!!! She walks the skunk over to the ditch, gently places the carcass in the ditch, crosses herself and says a prayer. over a skunk. riiiiight.

That's my story. Having written it out, it's actually not as funny as I thought it would be. I hate when that happens!

I double dog dare you!!

Go on. I dare you. I double DOG dare you. You just cannot help yourself but smile when you see a butt this cute.



see? i told you so. You're smiling. Just admit it, don't fight the power dude.

Living where I live

I'm pretty much a scaredy cat girlie girl. I don't *do* scary things. I just don't. No crazy roller coasters, no adrenaline junkie needs, no addiction to horror movies (am I the only one in the world never to have seen "the Blair Witch"? I think so!). There was that unfortunate time in High School where crazy roller coasters were the cool thing, and I admit to being a sucker for peer pressure, but that's it.
I am also not a fan of scary real life things. Like bugs. And snakes. And spiders. And tornadoes. You know, stuff that HURTS. Cause that's what it boils down to. I don't like pain. Which is just a wee twisted when you think that I fought hard to HAVE a homebirth. You know, *without* drugs. But I never said I was normal. or sane!

With this all in mind, it's a good thing I live where i live. We don't have much scary stuff 'round these parts. No poisonous creatures lurking in wait to sting/bite/inflict pain. Not much in the way of scary weather either. we're pretty safe. it's nice. I personally quite appreciate it. Thank you mother nature for making this wee bit of heaven for us scaredy cats!

Which is why yesterday was a bit unsettling. Crazy monsoon rains, hail, strong winds. I would have handled them all with practically no hitch in me step except for the fact I was in the van. With my family. On flooding roads and to completely understate it, bad driving conditions.

like this


and this


And you know it's scary when people are fighting to park it under a bridge.


Don't worry about us though, I had Dude pull over and we safely sat out the storm. The kdis slept through it all, and I had fun taking pictures. But still... AHHHH!

I want to be Two again.

Seriously. Two looks like such a freaking fantastic age. I can't remember being two (how unfair!) but seeing it from this side of the fence makes it look like so much fun. When he's not driving me to drink or experiment with the latest mood mellowing drugs (kidding..yeah, kidding) he's making me laugh. And laugh. And laugh some more, and thanks to two natural childbirths, maybe pee a little. or not, i ain't admitting to anything.

Take a minute and think about being two. Imagine, if you will, the thrill of racing through life not caring that you're eating your shorts...


the liberty of dressing however you want, and thinking you look seriously h.o.t


having people feed you


wearing horizontal stripes...


actually choosing to wear glasses


having someone else pay for your obsessions...
(in Mr Man's case, a raging case of train-ism, specifically Thomas the train-ism)


Not wondering if this outfit makes your butt look big...(those horizontal stripes strike again!)


and knowing, without a doubt in the world, that you are loved unconditionally, quirks and all

tales of summer

Mr Man has made some great friends in our neighborhood this summer. They are always coming to ring the doorbell and ask if he can come out to play. It's the cutest thing in the world, i just can't say no!

yesterday we all painted, and i don't how he did it, but Mr Man got paint in places I give him double credit for. I mean, really! Ear canal, nostril, top of his head, and obviously all.over his clothes!!


He didn't mind :D

If I only knew...

what thoughts are bouncing around in my little girl's mind.

"What *is* that smell?!"

"Why does my mommy keep sticking that shiny black thing in my face?"

"Where are my clothes?"

"Does a(bxc) +d/e = e+ c(axb) -d ?"

wouldn't you like to know?



I would