Christmas Cheer

Things have finally settled down over here, unless you count the fact that we are leaving this afternoon to go to Memphis for the weekend. We've been going full throttle the past 2 weeks, spending time with almost all of our family.

My dad's family was here last weekend, and we had a blast showing off Sarah Beth to everyone. They all adored her, of course; my 80-something-year-old grandmother kept talking about how cute he was, although she had to ask every few minutes, "Now whose little boy is this?"

Unfortunately, I was only able to snap a couple of pictures before my camera bit the big one. I think it's finally dead this time.

We had a great time, and SB slept through most of the festivities.

We spent Christmas Eve and Day with an assortment of parents, grandparents and siblings. The best present I received was a toss up between the Liberty Bowl tickets and the day after Christmas shopping spree with mom and sisters while Jack kept SB.

I took SB to Jackson yesterday to see some of my girlfriends from college. We had lunch at the OG (Olive Garden), but SB didn't sleep through that like I thought she would. Way too much going on to be napping. She recently started trying to communicate by shrieking as loud as she can. She was very excited yesterday to meet all of my friends, but I don't think all of the other OG patrons shared in her joyous expressions of life. We had to leave a little early.

We had a great time catching up, but I was rethinking my decision to make the trip alone when we got ready to go home. As darkness fell, SB threw a fit. We were on our way to visit one more person on our way out of town when she started screaming bloody murder. I freaked out and pulled over, desperate to save her from whatever horror was attacking her. I took her out of her car seat and held her and rocked her and made sure nothing was poking/pinching/biting her. I have only heard her scream like that one other time-when she got her shots at 2 months old.

I could not calm her down, and I was getting a little freaked out. There we were, sitting alone in the backseat of my car, both of us crying hysterically. I didn't know what to do, all alone, 2 hours from home. I finally pulled myself together and, after checking her all over and feeling pretty confident that she was not injured in any way, put her back in her car seat to scream it out. She finally screamed herself to sleep and woke up when we got home, just as happy as a lark. And just when I was ready to retire the SF title... So I probably won't be making any more trips by myself for a while.

All things considered, the holidays were pretty great. And SB has slept through the night 4 out of the past 6 nights. The other 2 nights she only woke once to eat. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but maybe this is it!! I feel like a new woman.

Okay, I've got to go get ready to go. Liberty Bowl, here we come!

The Prodigal Sister Returns

Meredith is finally home! Since she lives practically in Mexico, I have not seen my sister since August. She was not able to come when Sarah Beth was born, so yesterday was their first meeting. Here are a few pictures of the happy occasion.

Bunny!

Meredith agreed that SB is even cuter in person, and they got along famously. Glad you're home bunny!

Hip Hip

HOORAY!

I have wonderful news for Starkvillians. I went to the surprise party for Helmut and Leona last night at LJs to say goodbye forever, but the surprise was on me. Leona announced that LJs has been purchased by Dr. Brown, and it will be reopening on January 18 in the Book Mart downtown!!

While they will not carry their full food menu, their wonderful coffee will still be available, and so will Leona, as she is going to manage the new cafe.

Thursday is the last day at their current location, so go get some coffee. I'll see you there. And sleep a little easier that night knowing that it won't be the last time.

Silent Night

Three cheers for Screamy Face, who finally seems to be getting used to her nighttime schedule. I put her down at eight thirty last night, and she didn't eat again until 3:15. She's a good little girl.

I did wake up around 2, and, realizing that she hadn't woken me up, panicked. Even though it usually wakes her up when I go into her room to check on her, I did it anyway. She was fine, still snoozing away, and she didn't even wake up when I peeked in on her. So I went back to bed.

Now, if we could only get rid of the squirrels that have been hosting dance parties on our roof every night. I've almost gotten used to the sound of acorns pelting our roof every time the wind blows, but they don't just hit the roof and disappear. They hit the roof and roll down the slope, making very loud rolly noises. It's great fun for the squirrels, and convenient too, since no one has to make cookies for the dance parties when manna is falling from heaven.

Unfortunately for us, the acorn tree branches are strategically positioned directly over our bedroom. Thus the dance party guests tend to congregate there also. You can laugh if you want, but I'd like to see you try to sleep with a dozen squirrels scurrying over your head, chasing the hail-like acorns across your roof.

It's either that or we have R.O.U.S.'s living in our attic. True, I can't compete with them physically, but they're no match for my brains. I've put rodent traps on my Christmas list, so their days are numbered.

Little Gymnast

I couldn't help but share these pictures we took of our little gymnast stretching herself out. She sometimes likes to sleep like this.

Bowl Bound

In the words of my precious mother, "Yipee, Skippie!" The Bulldogs are going to the Liberty Bowl in Memphis on December 29. Jack and I have been celebrating all day.


I was really hoping we would get that bowl game, since we have lots of family in Memphis, and it's only a few hours away. Also, it makes buying Jack's Christmas present a no brainer. We've already decided to give each other bowl tickets for Christmas.


In the words of Andre the Giant, "I hope we win!"


Since Beth, beloved aunt, wasn't able to get tickets for us, it looks like SF and I will be standing in line bright and early tomorrow morning at the MSU ticket office. But I don't mind. Hooray for the Bulldogs! Mere, SF wants to know if you will babysit her while Jack and I go to the game. She really misses you.


In other football news, it appears as though my fantasy football team has gone the way of the Ole Miss Rebels. This weekend's matchup was my last chance to get into the playoffs, but things are looking grim. Special thanks go out to the super secretive Jets, who couldn't be bothered to announce that one of my wide receivers would not be playing today. My backup receiver, who is currently warming my bench, already has one TD today. But such is life, difficult as it may be. There's always next year.

In Other Holiday News

What a wonderful Thanksgiving we had. Long, but good. It was a very busy day, but SF slept like a champ all the way through. Here's how it went down.

Round One: 11 am. We had our first Thanksgiving meal at Jack's mom's house, and I must say, it was delicious. Whoever cooked all that food is fantastic and terribly talented in the kitchen. I bet she's also good looking, smart and funny. We stuffed ourselves silly and had a nice visit with Jack's family, then it was on to the next stop.

Round Two: 2 pm. Our second meal was at Jack's dad's parents house. Jack and I were on our second meal, and SF and I were on our second outfit of the day. I guess somebody didn't enjoy my first lunch as much as I did, since most of it ended up on my shirt and her dress. Lunch at the grandparents was much the same as the first: the standard turkey, dressing, green bean and sweet potato casseroles, etc. But since we didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings, we helped ourselves to another round of the decadent delicacies. Jack had to roll me out of their house that evening.

Round Three: 6 pm. My family was gathered at my parents house, all except for Meredith. (We love you, Mere. Miss you. Miss you every day.) Being the mother extraordinaire that she is, my mother had prepared turkey, dressing and all the sides typical of a Thanksgiving meal, plus several delicious desserts. When dinner was served, Jack gave me a strange look as I grabbed a plate and fell in line with everyone else.
"Are you eating again??" he asked. My response? Of course I was. It had been nearly 4 hours since my last meal. I didn't give him a hard time when he helped himself to an ample portion a few minutes later. Once again, SF slept through the whole thing, only waking to ruin another outfit, this time through the other end. My sister-in-law saved the day with one of her daughter's old outfits.

All in all, I'd say the day was a great success. You might have noticed that I mentioned SF slept through the entire affair. She's been a little snotty lately (sick, not stuck up), and !thank heavens! she's been sleeping it off instead of screaming it off. She seems to be much better, although I fear I may now be coming down with a case of the yuckies. Vitamin C, here I come!

SF UPDATE: since she's been sick, she's been sleeping like a rock, so she hasn't been waking up when I put her in the crib! I think she might be getting used to it now. Time will tell.

Train up a Child...

After the game yesterday, I asked SF what she thought of Ole Miss. She can't talk yet, but communicated her feelings very clearly in this photo.

The Adam Bomb Heard 'Round the State

I don't think I need to elaborate on the title. Adam Carlsson made up for all of his pitiful kicks this season with the only kick that mattered. The one that sent Ole Miss home without the egg. Even though the thieving Ole Miss players who were placed on "probation" were still allowed to play, the virtuous Bulldog team emerged victorious. Miss a practice, you're on the bench. But you can steal and you'll still be allowed on the field. Good coaching all around.

We got our trophy, and they got theirs.

SF

I'm back, after not being online for about 2 weeks. I'm finally taking a break from Screamy Face. The daughter formerly known as SB has been a little troublesome lately. Jack and I decided that the name "Sarah Beth" didn't appropriately fit our daughter's personality, hence the new name, SF.

Bedtime brings out the worst in her. She hates her crib, and throws herself into a fit of rage every time we put her in it. She can be sleeping so peacefully in my arms until her head hits that mattress. Then she lets loose with screams loud enough to wake the neighbors. Of course, when I go back into her room to calm her down, she's all grins and giggles. Like she was just kidding. Hi mom! Just wanted to see if you'd come back. yeah. It's real cute...when it's not a quarter til midnight.


She sleeps enough during the day;
when darkness falls, it's time to play.
Don't put me down in that blasted crib,
Or I'll scream so hard, I'll bust a rib.

I'm screaming so loud, practically choking
And ejected my dinner (no I'm not joking)
Maybe I'm being bitten by ants
or maybe I just pooped my pants
You won't know until you come see
Oh, now that you're here, won't you hold me?

Hold me now, you don't need sleep
Hold me close, I won't make a peep.
But not the crib, such a disgrace!
Find out why I'm called Screamy Face.


Otherwise, we've been bored. Jack has been home a lot lately, spending most of his time practicing in case Scrabble ever becomes an Olympic event. Thankfully, he helps out with SF in between games. He did watch her for me this morning so I could get a little sleep. I had to repay him by letting him beat me at Scrabble when I woke up, but it was worth it.

Aunt Meredith, I'm counting the days until you get here. Since you miss her so much, Jack and I have decided that we'll let you and Vic stay at our house and keep SF for a few days when you get into town. You can thank me later.

SF is living up to her name. Gotta go.

Dieters Claim South Beach Diet No Day at the Beach

Jack decided last week that it was time to drop a few pounds, loosen up the ole belt buckle. While I supported him in this, like every other decision, I somehow felt it necessary to diet with him. I've been wanting to drop a few more pounds myself since SB was born, and out it came without even a thought, "Okay, I'll do it with you." SB and I ran to the library that afternoon to get a copy of the South Beach Diet book.

This was a terrible idea for several reasons. Besides the obvious ones: 1. I love carbs. 2. I love sugar. 3. I love chocolate... I could go on and on about the things I love to eat that are not allowed on the SBD. However, I also felt that starting a diet right before the holidays might not be the best time to lose weight. Since I have little self control to start with, even if I did lose some weight before Thanksgiving, I'd probably gain it all back in one day. Also, I hate dieting.

The first day was okay, but a few days into it, I was miserable. According to the doctor who made up the SBD, after a few days, you're supposed to feel fantastic and not even want to eat dessert after your lettuce dinner. Turns out that doctor is a freakin liar. My cravings did not go away, and I felt like I was going to drop dead any second. And my jeans weren't getting any bigger.

Of course, Jack has been serious about this all week, eating lettuce sandwiches and snacking on pinto beans, and he says he feels great and really doesn't miss the ice cream. I don't know why it's working so well for him while I'm still fat as ever and have no energy. Although my most hard core attempts at dieting might have been thwarted by the giant spoonfuls of cookie dough I secretly devoured all week when Jack wasn't looking. That might also explain why my cravings haven't gone away. But I'm no doctor.

Anyway, with SB still SOTT, she's taking every ounce of energy I have, and I need carbs. Finally, I told Jack I just didn't think the no carb diet was for me, especially while I'm still nursing SB, but that I wouldn't eat anything in front of him that he wasn't allowed to have. Sunday was Day 6 without bread, and I finally gave in. Not just a secret scoop of the Reeses Peanut Butter Cup Cookie Dough I have stashed away in the back of the refrigerator, (Cursed little girl next door and her cursed school fundraising) I mean I ate a TBC from Peppers, bread and all right in front of Jack for lunch yesterday. It was the most delicious thing I've ever eaten. In consideration of Jack's position (he was having lettuce and vinegar again) I ate it really fast so he wouldn't be too envious.

I do it all for you, Jack. All for you.

So, I'm officially off the diet, not just when Jack's not around, but for real this time. I've decided that he can diet, and I'll just exercise. SB and I went for a walk this morning, because after all, the important thing is to raise the old heart rate, and not to rush a physical relationship.

Off the subject, take a look at these:

Around Town

Three things:

A. Starkville seems to have a new sushi restaurant. I saw it today while trying to get across Main Street during the Johnny Cash festival. I was not able to attend said festival, but it caused me great distress while trying to get across town. I can enjoy a little JC every now and then, but it's not something I seek out. Anyway, today I noticed the Sushi on Main sign right next to Big Daddys restaurant. I'm hoping to try it out when Mere gets home for Christmas, since Jack doesn't do sushi. I couldn't eat it while I was pregnant, and technically it probably isn't the best idea while SB is still SOTT, but I think I can eat a few California rolls and give her a bottle afterward.


2. I saw a guy wearing a Dunder Mifflin t-shirt today. Awesome.


D. I've saved the last and most devastating bit of information for last. Mere, Claire and LT- you might want to prepare yourself for this. It's not good news.

LJs is closing.

I couldn't believe it when I heard the news. I don't know what I will do without their White Chocolate Mochas and Chai Tea. Also, they have wonderful muffins. Apparently, it's becoming a little too much for Leona to handle, and I'm sure competition is pretty stiff with the new B&N on campus. They are trying to sell the business, but if it doesn't sell by the end of the year, they will probably close. Don't ask me where I got this information. It may not be public knowledge yet.

Well, I guess it is now.

Leona will be greatly missed. Also her bubbly personality. I'm thinking of writing a poem for her. Maybe later.

Pepto Bismol, Anyone?

Sorry I missed your call. I've been busy scrubbing poop out of our carpet. Want to hear a story?

Yesterday we took up our rug from the living room floor because it was looking a little lumpy. I commented to Jack about how nice and clean the carpet looked where the rug had been. It looked like we had just steam cleaned it or something. It is in fact new carpet, and since we have had the rug down since we moved in, no dirt has smudged it. Or should I say no dirt HAD smudged it.

Last night we had a drop in visit from some of our newlywed friends from Columbus. SB wasn't really behaving for her company, so I was holding her in my lap, trying to make her smile. She was so squirmy but I knew she wasn't hungry, so I finally got up to check her diaper.

I know you already know what is coming. Poop. everywhere.

It was all over my arm, shirt, pants, feet -ask Jack; I am NOT exaggerating. Thankfully, it wasn't on the couch, but she did leave a huge yellow pile on our white, previously unstained carpet, which I have been scrubbing all morning.

The good news for SB is that since she's been having lots of diaper explosions lately, she's been getting lots of baths, which she loves. I think she's pooping on purpose now. Anyway, I got some cute photos of her in the robe that Claire gave her after her bath the other night.

I wanted to get a better one of the robe so you could see how cute it is, but SB wasn't as excited about it as I was.

The good news is that the carpet seems to be recovering nicely. My clothes, however, may not be so lucky. We shall see.

Beach Bummer

Two months ago, Jack planned a wonderful trip to the beach for us and some friends. We left early Thursday morning with our friends Brooke and Lindsey and SB's friend Ayden. A dozen hours later, through wind and rain and multiple stops for diaper changes, we finally made it to our house in Rosemary Beach. We had big plans to leave early Thursday morning so we could spend Thursday at the beach. We arrived that afternoon, but the tornados kept us indoors until Saturday.

I was so distressed. It was SB's first vacay, and the weather was not cooperating! She didn't even get to see the beach until Saturday evening. Thankfully, we took some babysitters with us, so the weekend wasn't a total waste. Lindsey and I were able to do a little shopping on Friday, and the adults had a fabulous dinner at Cafe 30 A that night, but for the most part, we spent our time at the house, playing cards.

-Side note: I am the Phase 10 MASTER and completely demolished everyone else at the table. I have the score card framed if anyone cares to see it.

I mostly felt sorry for one of our babysitters, Jenny, who didn't know any of us very well. She is a friend of my sister, who went with us to help watch the kiddies. I think she was scared of Jack. Those of you who know him, you know what I'm talking about. He's rather loud, and he says whatever is on his mind. He thinks he is hysterical, but poor Jenny did not share his sense of humor.

Also, Jack has always fancied himself a bit of a matchmaker and spent most of the weekend trying to set Jenny up with his brother, Rob, who met us at the beach for the weekend. I knew we were in for trouble when Jack, in his first meeting with Jenny, told her how glad he was that she was coming to the beach with us because he had promised his brother he would "bring a girl for him."

I don't think either one of them appreciated his attempts at love connection.

One major bright spot in the weekend, however, was the Southern Breeze Coastal Wine Tour. Many happy returns of the day to big sister Meredith, who set us up with a couple of tickets to the grand event. Lindsey and I took full advantage of the sun and the unlimited wine samples offered to us on Saturday. My favorite beverage at this event is always the Raspberry Champagne, which I sampled more than a few times. (Don't worry, I came home with a bottle.)

I knew it was time to leave when I asked to sample a brand called "Mojo," but pronounced it "Mo-HO." The jovial gentleman behind the table gladly poured me a glass, and said, "Sure, but here in the South, we call that "Mo-JOE."

My response? I took my sample and ran, assuring everyone within earshot that my first language was Spanish. I didn't go back to that table.

Mere, you missed a blasty. It was great fun, and you would have enjoyed seeing the lady who was covered from head to toe in pepto bismol pink attire, complete with a pink ostrich feather purse. Lindsey and I discovered her at the M&J table after following a trail of pink feathers strewn about the lawn. Much like Hansel and Gretel. Only the feathers weren't edible. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camer, so you'll have to take my word on how funny she looked.

I assured everyone that you wanted to be there, but had a last minute emergency come up and had to jet to Colorado to wait tables at a hunting lodge. They understood but were still sad they missed you.

Due to the intense hurricanic weather, I came home without a tan. I was sorely disappointed. I'm still as pasty and pale as I was last week, but after going through some old photos of Jack and me that Jack discovered yesterday, I have been inspired to go to the tanning bed.

Good news from the weekend: Jack's friend is pretty handy with a camera, and he got some great photos of SB on the beach. As soon as I get some copies, I'll post them for you to see. I know you can't wait.

World's Best Boss

According to some ESPN announcers, yesterday was National Boss Day. When Jack heard the news, he was absolutely devastated that none of his employees had bothered to call or even send a card.

I did a little research and found out that it is true. October 16 is officially National Boss Day. NBD has traditionally been a day for employees to thank their superior for being kind and fair throughout the year. But did anyone call yesterday?

No way, Jose.

And it certainly wasn't because Jack isn't kind and fair.

See? He even has a mug with his official, self-assigned title.

According to Wikipedia, National Boss's Day is usually celebrated by presenting one's boss with a small gift or greeting card. It is also customary to treat one's boss with extreme kindness, very similar to a birthday.

So, in honor of NBD, since Jack didn't get any presents yesterday, in lieu of a gift, I thought I would pay homage to him here.

A Poem. By Emily Redwood

Price gouge, price gouge, price gouge: forever our motto

Cause we need our money too, unless we hit the lotto

Jack needs three tabs like he needs scratch

When it comes to Wheeler or Crabtree, Jack wins game, set match.

All the other roofers are haters, fakers, amateurs

Jack can slip you a shingle a lot better, that's for sures.

When asked for his expert opinion, he says with a straight face

I don't care it's only 5 years old, this roof must be replaced.

If I were a gambling (wo)man, I'd bet on Jack any day

He's the man with the roofing plan. Happy NB Day.

Also, this:

Thanks mom, for the mugs.

Go to sleep little baby

Sorry I've been gone for a while. I've been a little busy being a mom. You know, feeding the baby, changing the baby, pulling my hair out by the roots. The usual. SB finally slept last night in segments of more than 20 minutes at a time. So that was good.

Lately she's become somewhat of a night owl. Around 8 o'clock every night, when I get ready to put her to bed, her eyes pop wide open and she has a heart attack every time I put her in her crib. She just wants to bask in the gloriousness of the night, and she wanted someone to share in that experience with her. It just wasn't something she was prepared to handle by herself. I was the big winner, by default, since Jack was absorbed in his Madden Playstation game, completely oblivious to his screaming child.

Seriously, you would have thought that someone put a red hot poker up her nose every time I put her down.

So I held her. And we rocked. And she ate. Then I put her down and sneaked away from the crib. She always waits until I get cozy and warm under the covers before she lets her lungs loose. After about 15 minutes of crying, I held her, rocked her, fed her and put her back down. While I stood by the crib, she seemed so peaceful, sleeping soundly. I guess it's like the old saying, a watched baby never cries. not until I get in bed, certain she's finally down for the night.

Such trickery. We played this game Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights. I would put her down, she would cry as long as I could stand it, then I would feed her, change her and rock her to sleep. Repeat cycle.

Anyway, I finally got some sleep last night, thank the Lord. But if anyone out there is interested in an overnight guest, she doesn't take up much room, she's just a little noisy at times. And she makes a great alarm clock.

How can you say no to this face?

Bath time

What's that? You want to see more pictures of SB?? Okay, sure.

SB finally got her first real tub bath a few days ago. She loved it for the most part, until it was time to get out. Then she turned the screams on.

She finally settled down into her pink hooded dolphin towel. Unlike Tyra Banks, SB loves dolphins. She gets that from her mommy, who cofounded the Dolphin Lovers Club in college. But the DLC post is for another day.

Are you down with the DLC?

Hooray for VH1

I know you have all been on pins and needles, just like me, waiting for the Rock of Love finally. It finally aired this weekend, and it did not disappoint. Long story short, Bret very romantically proposed that both Heather and Jes be his girlfriends. He just couldn't decide because he loved them both so very much.

Solution? Just keep both of them. Problem solved.

Although Heather was on board, Jes rejected his bigamist plea. So Bret "it was all a test" Michaels picked his one true love...Jes!

It was all very exciting. and romantic. Poor Heather was not too happy though, especially after she tattooed his name on the back of her neck. No joke. The woman tatooed the name of a man who she had known for about 2 weeks on the back of her neck. Then he dumped her.

what was she thinking??

Anyway, after that was all over, the I Love New York 2 Casting Special premiered. It was worth the wait. There are some real winners out there just waiting to win NYs heart. This season promises to be special.

Ratman has my vote.

I LOVE NEW YORK 2 RATMAN

You want sexy? Here you go.

For CJ

Even though it was yesterday, I thought I would take a few minutes to blog in honor of my little sister's birthday. Mere beat me to it and stole most of the good stories, like how Mary Beth one day decided to rename herself CJ and how she wore a bathing suit nearly every day of her life. The days when she couldn't pick just one to wear, she would simply layer one on top of the other. Problem solved.

Growing up, MB and I were the best of friends, until I hit 6th grade and became WAY too cool for her. One thing we loved to do together was get dressed up in our brothers clothes and put hunting masks over our faces until we were certain that no one would recognize us. Then we took the guns from the Super Mario Brothers Duck Hunt game (you know what I'm talking about) and very cleverly wrapped the cords around our bodies so they wouldn't drag the floor. That would just be a dead giveaway that the guns were fake. Then sneaked down the stairs to scare our family. We never could understand how they always knew it was us. We were sure they would think we were just very short robbers.

Then there was the time that Mere decided she wanted to be a photographer. She dressed MB up in a pink outfit with a huge floppy hat and posed her on the bed with all of her stuffed animals. I sure wish I had a scanner so I could share that picture with you.

Mary Beth has always had a rather large mouth, and growing up, if she thought it, she said it. There was no filter, a fact that made my parents rather nervous in social situations. Case in point: One time we were trying to sell our house, and Mary Beth informed the rather large men that came to look at it that they were very fat indeed. Funny, we never heard back from them.

I have to give MB some credit though. At least she never hid a tape recorder under my bed, then made me tell her all the boys I had a crush on like some sister I know, who shall remain nameless.

Anyway, I love you Mary Beth. I miss you, miss you every day. Take care of yourself in Memphis, and don't go too crazy now that you're legal. I'd give you a call to let you know that I just blogged about you, but it's only 12:45, and I seriously doubt you're awake yet. Sleep on, sister. Sleep on.

Go Bulldogs!

I'd just like everyone to know that the Bulldogs have been undefeated while the Rebels have yet to win a game since SB was born 2 1/2 weeks ago. We are 3-0 while Ole Miss is 0-3 since SB made her appearance. She loves to wear her bulldog outfit on gameday, and I think she's a good luck charm.

I think that the elements, as Dr. Watson said to Sherlock, "are coming together, sir." I was shopping for my daughter, SB (I buy most of her clothes). And Coach Croom was in the same shop, and it just was an accident. Y'know, we started talking... about pantyhose. He was saying—whatever, that's not the point of the story, but what the point is was that through this accidental meeting—it's like, y'know, it's like a Hitchcock movie, where, you know, you're thrown into a rubber bag and put in the trunk of a car. You win games; you win them. Is it karma? Maybe. But we're winning. That's the important thing. And I got SB a wonderful pantsuit.

Thanks, Possum

I've been tagged. Possum has issued me a challenge. List 10 things that make me happy and do it before SB wakes up. You should see me trying to type and hold her at the same time. It's amusing. Okay, I've got a few minutes before it's time for her to eat again. Here goes.

1. RBFs. I know you all probably thought SB would be #1, but RBFs were the first thing that came to mind. Thanks to my sister-in-law, Corrie, I now know that A&W root beer is caffeine free. So yesterday, SB and I enjoyed our first RBF since we came home from the hospital. It was delicious.
2. SB. See, she made the top 2. Even when I'm dragging myself out of bed for the 3rd time at 4 am, listening to her screaming down the hall, I still love her. Even though sometimes I get really tired, every time she smiles at me, I melt. And I thought she had daddy wrapped around her little finger...
3. Jack. Even though I give him a hard time on my blog, he really is the best. He has always treated me like a princess, and he has been especially wonderful since SB got here. Plus, he's really cute. Which helps. (Extra points for Jack- he made me breakfast the other day and held SB so I could eat in peace.)
4. I just lost 15 pounds. This makes me very happy, even though I still look like I'm 5 months pregnant (was NOT expecting that). I can see my feet again, and now I can put my shoes and socks on all by myself without contorting myself into strange positions while holding my breath.
5. No more DV. I haven't had to drink any CWP since the night before I went into the hospital! I can sleep peacefully at night, for 1 1/2 hours at a time, without waking up with my throat on fire. Score.
6. The Bulldogs are 2-0 since SB was born. I knew she was smart and talented and beautiful. Who would have guessed that she is also a good luck charm? Going for 3-0 this weekend. She'll be in her cheerleader outfit for the game.
7. My fam. I've got the best one in the world, seriously. Except for Meredith, who moved to practically Mexico and never comes to visit. Just kidding Mere, you know you're one of my favorite sisters.
8. My mom. I know I already said my family, but seriously. I have to single her out because she's my best friend (besides Jack) and because she deserves all the special recognition I can give her. Those of you who know her don't need me to go on and on about her, but humor me. She moved in with us for a week after SB was born and took care of all the cooking, cleaning and laundry for me. All I did was take care of SB. My mom even spent her nights taking care of the baby. She woke me up every 3 hours to feed her, then sent me back to bed while she burped, changed and got SB back to bed. She's still on standby in case I want to nap or run errands.
9. Murry. You didn't think I would forget Murry, did you? Of course not. The new season started this week, and it did not disappoint. One lady was one million point nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine percent sure that that "ugly ole sorry punk "was her baby's daddy. I couldn't believe it when she was wrong!

OK I know that's only 9 but I can't hold SB off any longer. Time to feed. again.

Playing Mommy

Had a bit of a rough morning. SB is finally fed, clean, dry and napping. I wish I could say the same for me. She was so good last night, but I think she got mad at me when I let her cry a little bit around 5:00 this morning. It wasn't time for her to eat until 6:30, and I was exhausted. After a few minutes, she went back to sleep, then woke up again. We played this game for about half an hour. Five minutes of crying, five minutes of sleeping. I finally gave in around 5:30 and decided to feed her an hour early.

Well, she must have spent that half hour plotting her revenge. After I fed her, I changed her diaper. As soon as I got the dirty one off, she fired off a round of yellow projectile poop. It flew across the changing table, effectively destroying everything in its path, including her burp cloth, a box of wipes, the changing table pad and my right hand.

Nice timing, SB.

She then decided that it would be a good time to spit up everywhere. I tried to sit her up with my good hand whilst attempting to clean off my yellowed hand. Then she started peeing. With waste firing out both ends, I had not yet had time to put a clean diaper on her. Just add pee to the list of things currently soiling the changing table.

I finally got both ends to stop spewing, managed to clean myself and SB up and get a clean diaper on her (our third one in 5 minutes).

Then she started sucking on her fist like a starved maniac; I had just finished feeding her 10 minutes before, mind you. I figured it was the best way to get her back to sleep though, so I stuck her back on. After about 45 seconds of nursing, she let loose with another poo.

Awesome.

At least this time I had a diaper on her. Another change, another 45 seconds of nursing, another poo.

I kid you not.

I'd had enough by this point, and decided that she had eaten enough for the time being. I can promise you, this kid is not starved of anything, especially not food.

Does she look hungry to you?

Daddy is Bad!

Last night, Jack decided that one week is enough time for SB to be coddled. He decided that it was time for her to start "self-soothing" at night. He even went as far as to suggest that we close our door AND the door to the nursery so we couldn't hear her if she cried. As if!

In the end, we agreed to disagree, but settled on a compromise. I left the doors open, but I let her cry for a couple of minutes before rushing in to pick her up. She ended up doing great; after 11:00 last night, she slept for 3 hours in between feedings.

Fast forward a few hours. It's 6 am and I've just finished feeding SB. Daddy is awake and ready to play. Mr. "Let's Get Her on a Schedule" decides that she has been such a good girl all night, she deserves a little spoiling. So instead of returning her to her bassinet, he takes her to the bedroom to nap on his chest.

**Disclaimer for all you moms out there. Don't freak out. We don't let her sleep with us while we are sleeping. She only gets to cuddle in our bed when we are awake and can watch her. So relax.

I however, was not ready to play. I was ready to finish sleeping. Also, I didn't think that holding her while she was supposed to be sleeping fit in with his discipline plan very well. He won, but only because I was too tired to fight.

He also has found a clever and subtle new way of spoiling himself. Whenever he wants something but doesn't want to get it himself, he just tells SB. For example, when I woke up at 8:30 this morning, Jack told SB how much he would love a cup of coffee. Here's how it went down.

Jack: I sure would love a cup of coffee.

Jack in his best SB voice: That sounds yummy, daddy!

Jack: I sure wish mommy would go make some coffee.

Jack as SB: Maybe she would if you asked her nicely.

Jack: No, she probably doesn't want to. But she would get up and make some if she really wanted to, without me having to ask her.

I wish I had time to elaborate, but I can hear SB. She's ready for breakfast. Again.

But don't worry. I punished Jack. After I finished laughing at his lame attempt to have me make his coffee, I sighed, rolled out of bed and handed Jack SB's burp cloth. I told him I would be right back, and I could tell he thought he had won.

Nay.

I came straight downstairs to blog about him instead. I can't wait until he reads this.

It's all I can do to get up and down the stairs to the computer these days. Feeling a few effects from the whole "giving birth" experience. Posts may be few and far between for a while until I get better. I've turned into little more than an all night buffet for SB, but I love it. She's absolutely precious, and Jack and I are having a blast being parents. I know you're all dying for more pictures. Who am I to object?

We had our first visit to the doctor today, and SB is doing great. She has gained an ounce and doesn't have jaundice, which Jack has been really worried about. He's so cute with her. He has been worried about her not eating enough. He actually set his alarm clock to go off every 3 hours in the night to make sure I didn't forget to wake up and feed her. As if!

Anyway, now that she has gotten a good report from the doctor, I think he will relax a little. On the bright side, he's done enough worrying for both of us, so I've been able to relax and let him take care of the "what ifs." Now if I could just get a little sleep...

Here she is!

HOORAY! She's finally here! My dad came by this morning to bring a camera, donuts and his laptop so I could post some pictures. (Thanks to the Days Inn next door for providing the Internet service.)

Here I am heading out to the hospital on Thursday morning with my giant belly.

Jack took full advantage of our situation yesterday by running every red light on Gillespie Street while singing "Slave to the Traffic Light." He sped down Hwy 82 going about 90 mph; I think he was hoping to get pulled over so he could tell the policeman that we were on our way to the hospital. Never mind the fact that I wasn't actually in labor...we were on our way to induce...

Anyway, I don't know what all the fuss is about regarding childbirth. It was a cinch. We got to the hospital at 7, started pitocin around 8:30; four hours later, here she was! I did have to have an enema...while the doctor told me I could refuse it, I felt it might be best for SB if I went through with it. As much as I didn't want to have it done, I really didn't want to BM on the table. I don't imagine that would be a very wonderful way to meet your mommy... Welcome to the world; here's some poop for your head.

The IV was worse though. They used a ginormous needle and stuck it in the top of my hand. It hurt like heck the whole day, and they didn't take it out until nearly 5 oclock that afternoon. Give me childbirth over an IV any day.

Not to mislead anyone; the pain was pretty intense until I got the epidural. Jack was trying to talk me through the contractions, but I told him NOT to make me laugh. But he is such a natural comedian; he just couldn't help cracking a few jokes here and there. I could tell he was trying not to laugh at his own jokes while I was having contractions. I wonder if he could tell I was trying not to defenestrate him while I was having contractions.

Once the epi set in around 11:30, I went from 5 cm to 10 cm in an hour!! When the nurse asked if I was ready to push, I couldn't believe it was time already. I was like, "WHAT??" and she was like, "YEAH!" It was not unlike a Little John concert. About 10 minutes later, Sarah Beth was exercising her lungs for the first time ever. 12:40 pm. Done and done.

We almost lost Jack for a few minutes when SB was ready to be born. He said he was ready to cry, faint and vom all at the same time. For a few seconds, the attention in the room shifted from me to him as my mom and the nurse tried to calm him down. Thankfully, he pulled himself together quickly and everyone's attention went back to where it belonged. on myself. Jack coached me through the final stages like a pro. He then told the doctor that SB looked like an alien when she first came out. She looked much cuter after they cleaned her up a little bit.

She weighs 6 lbs and 5 oz and is 19 inches long with dark hair and gray blue eyes. She was wide awake yesterday, taking in her new surroundings. I can't believe how cute she is. I mean, I knew she would be cute, but still. She really outdid herself. I think she looks just like her daddy.

I have tons more pictures, but I'll just post a few for now.

Baby Watch 2007

Many of you have voiced serious concerns about my extended absence from blogging. It's true. Not unlike my ankles, I will be on hiatus for a while after tonight.

Those of you who wish to contact us can call the hospital in West Point. We will NOT be at the Starkville hospital, so don't look there. Jack will be leaving updates on my cell phone voicemail, so you can also try that.

Unfortunately, I do not have a laptop, so I will be unable to blog during the birth. However, I plan to take a tape recorder and take notes for you that way, so when I get home, I can recount the details accurately. I am also hoping that Jack will take over some of the blogging responsibilities for me while I'm out.

I'm very sorry to leave you hanging like this, but what else can I do? We're taking it easy tonight, going to dinner with some friends then to bed early. I haven't slept in about a week, and last night was awful. SB wanted me to know that she was still doing ok, and she reassured me with her constant yoga moves, starting around 2:30 this morning. I didn't go back to sleep until Jack left at 6.

I'm praying that I get more sleep tonight, although that is doubtful. However, in my best attempt to get a good night's sleep, I've decided to pass on one final RBF after dinner tonight. I was planning on going to Bops after dinner to enjoy one after my final meal (I can't have anything after midnight), but I just can't risk the caffeine. So if you come visit in the hospital, bring RBFs. I'll probably be willing to pay top dollar for one after L&D.

While my fear of labor is seriously kicking in, my fear of motherhood is weakening. I realized the other day how great I was at playing pretend, and I think this mom thing is going to be a cinch. Here are a few examples:

• An Asian lady called the office other day, and I caught the word "roof" so I knew it wasn't a wrong number. However, that was about the only thing I understood out of her mouth. I pretended to understand everything she said. I asked her if her roof was leaking, and she gave me some numbers. Then more incoherent statements. I took it like a pro, and just said, "yes" and "I see" until she finally stopped.

• I had a serious sweet tooth one afternoon last week, and unfortunately I discovered a cadbury egg hidden under our bedside table while searching for my phone charger. I just pretended it hadn't been there since Easter and ate the whole thing. It was fabulous, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

• I also like to pretend that McDonalds is good for me. In fact, I ate there this afternoon, despite the fact that I'll probably have to weigh in again in the morning.

• A few nights ago, I was enjoying a little ice cream for dessert, but halfway through I realized I had gotten a little overzealous with the scooper and had too much in my bowl. Not a problem. I just pretended that my prenatal vitamin was hidden somewhere in the bottom of the bowl and ate the whole thing in a matter of minutes. Safety first.

• I also like to pretend that a magical house elf will take care of the laundry and general cleaning that needs to be done around the house if I just leave it long enough. So far, that one hasn't worked out to well, but at least my imagination is in full swing.

Ok, I seriously have to go now. Jack came home and scared the snake away, so it's safe to go to my car now. I still have to install the car seat and put the stroller together. I'm going to try to post some pictures of the nursery tonight before bedtime.

Trapped

I have so many things to do today to get ready for SB's arrival tomorrow. However, I just tried to leave my house, and I almost died. I walked out the front door like always, headed to my car. I got all the way down the steps before I realized that at the bottom, just 2 steps away on the sidewalk was a giant black and yellow snake. I froze, then ran.

For the record, I'm completely terrified of snakes. I watched it from the safety of my living room window, and it slithered into the monkey grass surrounding the sidewalk, then I saw it's ugly head peeking over our front porch, watching me, taunting me, daring me to open the front door. It looked like it was very much ready to pounce on me.

AHHHHHHHHHH!

I'm scared to leave the house now, because who knows where it's hiding now, waiting for me, no doubt. If anyone out there isn't too busy, I need some help over here.

Keeping Hip to the Abbrevs

In an attempt to clue in my new readers, I thought I'd hip you newbies to some of the abbrevs. (that's an abbreviation for abbreviations.) I feel this is necessary after reading through some of your comments. Apologies to Laren, who felt especially left out today.

First of all, and most importantly, RBF stands for Root Beer Float, a staple in my pregnancy diet. It all started with a mass advertising campaign by Sonic, who offered their RBFs for only $.99! A steal by any standards. Their ad campaign was extremely effective; I probably contributed to about half to two-thirds of their RBF profits.

Also, thanks to a tip from Possum, I also regularly enjoy custard RBFs from Bops. I also keep a 2 liter of A&W handy as well as plenty of vanilla ice cream in case I need an emergency fix. Jack didn't believe me one day when he called and asked where I was and I told him I was on a beer run.

I thought everyone was familiar with SBTB, which obviously stands for Saved By the Bell, the best TV show EVER, except for possibly Murry (Maury Povich), until Jack asked me today what sbtb stood for. I feel as though I have truly failed as a wife, when my own husband doesn't even know sbtb. So now he does. and so do you.

I've also been known to use various pseudonymns for my never-ending bout with heartburn. It's also known as DV (devil's vomit) and the only cure, besides more cowbell, is Mylanta, aka, CWP (chalky white power). For more information, please see Heartburn Hotel.

On a brighter note, I've recently been presented with a clever new way to enjoy my CWP. I put it in the refrigerator, and when the DV hits, I pull out a shot glass, decorate it with chocolate syrup, then pour myself an icy cold shot of CWP and down it like a mudslide. MMMMM. deelish.

I think that just about covers it; however, please feel free to inquire if you're left confused. But don't blame me if I chew you out for not being up to date on the latest abbrevs. Just try and keep up.

ps: obviously, SB stands for Sarah Beth (my fetus). If you don't know that by now, you're hopeless.

It's the Final Countdown

Yesterday was labor day, but no labor for me. I stayed mostly on the couch due to a headache, slightly increased blood pressure and pure exhaustion. While SB enjoyed her nightly after dinner dance, I tried to get some rest.

But no rest for the weary. After not sleeping at all last night, I saw the doctor this morning. He reassured me that I do not have toxemia, even though I had been experiencing several of the common symptoms. It was a huge relief. I was sure he was going to send me to the hospital this morning. Instead, he scheduled an induction for Thursday morning.

That's right, people. SB is on the way. If that stubborn little stinker hasn't ejected herself from my uterus by Thursday at 7 am, we're sending the pitocin in after her. So her days are numbered.

She was brutal this weekend, not so much with the incessant kickboxing like before, but she has started a new yoga routine in which she slowly stretches herself out, pushing as hard as she can with her foot against my upper left side whilst extending her fist into my lower right half. It's terribly uncomfortable and quite painful at times.

I'll be so glad when Thursday arrives. I really didn't want to induce, but I also really don't want to get toxemia. I've heard it's no fun.

Although I don't recall any "nesting" instincts ever kicking in, my house is clean and the laundry is up to date. I just need Jack to hang one final shelf in SB's room and I think we'll be ready.

Time for an RBF. I'll keep you guys posted.

No...

She's still not here yet. Heather, I also thought that this weekend would be a wonderful time for her to make her appearance. However, I still have hope. Tomorrow is Labor Day. How appropriate, no? I've been pushing hard all day, and I even made up a poem last night whilst not sleeping for when she does decide to be born. *Disclaimer* It's not totally original; I adapted it from a popular lullaby.

Rockabye baby, still in the womb
Nine long months, your birth it did loom
But when my water breaks, the baby will fall
And out will come SB, placenta and all

I went to the doctor on Friday and had a few warning signs of toxemia. He said he felt like I would be fine to wait another week, but he would send me to the hospital if I wanted to go, and we could induce labor. What was I thinking when I said no?? I go back on Thursday, and while I am SURE that she will be here before then, if she isn't, I'm gonna man up and take the pitocin then. So I feel much relief knowing that if she doesn't come on her own this week, we're going in after her on Thursday. Hooray!

You're killing me, SB

I don't feel good. My tummy started hurting last night after dinner. It felt like I had eaten too much, although I really didn't have that much on my plate. It was really hard to breathe, and I couldn't get comfortable. Perhaps in retrospect, I shouldn't have eaten that ice cream sundae right before dinner.

Then I woke up this morning feeling sick. I couldn't get back to sleep after Jack left at 5. This kid is really starting to get to me. Jack and I decided that tomorrow would be a good time for both of us for her to go ahead and be born. If she could just hang on until after the football game tonight, he has the whole weekend off, including Labor Day. I have pretty much every day off, so anytime is good for me.

However, I'm thinking now would be a good time. Jack's work schedule is really not as important to me anymore, since last night. Let me explain a few things to you. I used to have long, beautiful fingers attached to slender, gorgeous hands. It's true. But lately my hands have swollen up pretty badly. My real rings have been long gone, and now my fingers have swollen over the cheap replacements I bought at Claires. Which I guess isn't all bad, since now you can't see the green ring around my skin. It's just like in SBTB when the gang was about to graduate, and Zack found this great deal on class rings. Only they were fake, and they turned everyone's fingers green. Remember that?




Anyway, as you can see, my hands now look like giant blobs of play dough with five chubby sausages sticking out. And this just in: I've got cankles. It's true. I haven't really seen my feet in quite some time, but last night after cutting my socks off, I propped my feet up on the couch. It was then that I noticed my ankles were on hiatus. I'll spare you that photo.


I'm ready to get SB outta me and shrink back down to my normal self. It'll also be nice to be able to breathe again. and get my ankles back from their leave of absence. I really thought she'd be here by now, even though she's not due for 12 more days. I think I called her a "stubborn little parasite" to my sister yesterday, but MB didn't think it was as funny as I did. What would you call something that's been attached to your insides for nine months? feeding off your nutrients and causing all kinds of physical ailments? I've spoken to a lawyer about drawing up some eviction papers. If she's not here next week, I'm going to have my doctor serve her at my next appointment.

Did you see Alien?

OK, maybe it's not that bad, but I'm still ready to quit playing "host" and start playing mommy. I think things will be a lot more fun when she's in my arms and not in my uterus.

Anyway, I made some strawberry banana jello last night. SB's favorite. I think I'll go eat some. Maybe I can coax her out this afternoon. I'll let you know how that goes.

Also, I know there are strangers out there reading this who do not know me and therefore do not understand my warped sense of humor. Let me just go on record stating that all jokes aside, I love my little SB, stubborn or not. I'm going to be a great mom to the parasite, whenever she decides to detach herself and make her appearance.

Partying like it was 1909

Sorry I've beeen gone so long. No, it isn't because I had the baby. Sorry. I wish that were the case. I've been had twice in the past week, thinking I was going into labor and then not. She's a tricky little thing, but I still love her. I'm trying real hard to be patient with her, but it feels like she should be here already!

I've just been busy the past few days with important family business. Not the least of which was an 83rd birthday celebration extravadanza for Jack's grandfather last Friday. Those old folks sure do know how to party. I was expecting the usual family get together that we always have when someone has a birthday. Not so, this time. Jack's aunt got a little excited over this particular birthday, and boy did she plan a rockin good time.

We arrived at the retirement home about five minutes after 2, which is when the party was scheduled to begin. As we walked in the front door, we could hear quite a ruckus coming from the common area down the hall. There must have been 40 senior citizens sitting in that room, all enthralled by the karaoke singing man at the front. A man who was known only as Reverend Mordecai, his stage name, no doubt, came all the way from Sturgis, MS to entertain and delight the crowd.

At the moment we chose to walk in, the Reverend was really letting loose with his own rendition of "Behind Closed Doors," a song that I was previously unfamiliar with and for good reason. I think my face turned red during the chorus; I don't know how all the 80-year-olds were sitting there with straight faces.

He tried to take requests from the audience, but he didn't seem to have a very wide assortment of songs in his repertoire. Jack's grandad kept requesting, "I Can't Give You Anything but Love, Baby." But every time he yelled it out, Reverend Mordecai thought Jack's grandad was just trying to give him a compliment and responded with a hearty, "Well, thank you very much, sir."

The crowd was also entertained by a special appearance of Mother Goose, as she has dubbed herself, an 80-going-on-13-year-old woman who loves to be seen and heard. If you're from the Golden Triangle area, you no doubt know who I'm talking about. The Reverend was trying to get people up to dance, and he didn't have to ask Mother Goose twice. She shimmied all over the place with her dance partner, (Mere you will appreciate this- she was dancing with Sid Caradine) and did her best to stay in front of the camera.

Not to be outdone, Sid's wife piped up and asked if she could sing. Actually, she more accurately issued the Reverend a challenge: "Do you think you could harmonize with me?" It was a real treat for everyone's ears. Those who couldn't dance, rolled around the floor in their wheelchairs. Even Steven, the 55-year-old maintenance man, joined the fun with his own dance version of shake, rattle and roll.

We sang happy birthday 3 times, ate cake, then the staff closed out the event with a rousing rendition of the electric slide. except for one lady who couldn't quite figure the steps out. She finally decided her own freestyle version would be best, so she placed herself in between the other dancers and the crowd and performed that instead.

All in all, I'd say the party was a raging success. It was still going full throttle with the Cha Cha Slide when we left at 3:30. Those old folks sure know how to throw down. I hope when I'm 83, The Reverend will still be on the road with his traveling karaoke machine. Although in 50 years, he'll probably be 115 or so. A girl can dream though, can't she?

I demand to be taken seriously

To any innocent bystanders looking in on my life, it may seem that I spend a good bit of time either sitting in front of the computer or lying on the couch in front of the Tivo. While this may be true, what else am I supposed to do all day? I weigh nearly 300 pounds, and it's not easy to carry myself around these days, especially in the 115 degree heat outside. So I stay in.

I don't have a job, just helping Jack with the office work (which totally justifies my spending so much time in front of the computer). When Jack gets in from work, he looks so tired from working in the heat all day, yet I'm the one who wants a foot massage. I know what he must be thinking... When he left for work at 5 am, I was still in bed asleep. When he came home for lunch, I was napping. When he came home for good in the afternoon, I was lying on the couch anxiously awaiting the news-is Kooley or isn't Kooley the father?? and if he is, will he step up and care for baby Nevaeh?

Although he hasn't said it, I know Jack probably thinks I have become the laziest person in the world these last couple of months. But I ask, are you without clean underwear? Don't you have clean dishes to eat on and delicious food for dinner? Sure, you had to carry the laundry up and down the stairs for me. And I might have popped that delicious dinner out of the freezer and into the microwave, but while you were working hard in the sun all day, sweating it out while nailing shingles on someone's roof, I was busy making our daughter's heart and brain. How's that for a hard day's work? It's exhausting, I tell you.

And you thought your job was hard.

I am Emily's Multiple Personality

Bad news. I think I may have multiple personality disorder. It's a tough disorder to self-diagnose, but I took a course in abnormal psychology once in college, so I'm pretty sure I'm qualified.


I've been struggling with SB lately, telling her to hurry up and then freaking out every time I start having contractions. Then I start trying to push her back in. Some days I think I'm just not ready for that level of pain right now.


We had a little pep talk last week in which I told her not to be born until Monday (the 20th). I told her that it just wouldn't be fair for her to come on my birthday. I mean, I've been sharing my body with her for going on 9 months now; did I really have to share my birthday with her too? Also, the ladies from my church had put a lot of work into planning the shower on Sunday. It would have been so rude to miss it. She totally understood, and she stayed put all weekend. Then I thought I was ready for her to make her grand entry...or exit. However you want to look at it.


Obviously, she didn't come on Monday. Or Tuesday, even though I coaxed with all my might. Well, yesterday afternoon I started having all these contractions, and they started getting stronger. I freaked out and started telling her that I wasn't quite ready and that she was just going to have to wait. I wasn't prepared for the pain that came with these contractions. I didn't think it would really hurt until I was really in full-fledged labor. Not true. Apparently, BH contractions can hurt too. Enough to wipe the rosy glow right off my face.

Don't be such a wimp, you might be saying. But hold your tongue unless anyone has ever pressed ever so gently against your lower back with a jackhammer.


Obviously, I haven't been able to deal with the stress of imminent labor. After watching Fight Club for the first time yesterday, I figured out what must have happened. I created another personality to help me deal with the stress. I'm not sure yet what to name her, but she's a total wimp, so she should definitely have a wimpy name. Your suggestions are welcome.

Birthday Fun

What a fun weekend! I love it when it's my birthday. I let Jack sleep in a little Saturday morning, but as soon as he woke up, birthday fun began. He took SB and me to breakfast at City Bagel; then my mom and I went to LJs to visit. She was out of town almost all last week, so we had lots of catching up to do.

SB wanted to see her cousins (Caroline and Judah) so we stopped by to play with them for a while, then home to rest up for our big night out. We had a very busy afternoon of cuddling on the couch and watching a movie. Then to Richey's for dinner. SB was just dying for a good steak. For those of you who are not familiar with Richey's, shame on you. They have a fabulous salad bar, but Jack and I always go there on special occasions for the famous presentation.

Famous presentation? you may ask. Allow me to explain. At Richey's, it's all about the presentation of the food. The Chateau Briand is a giant filet that is served, according to the menu, as Richey's "famous presentation." The first time we ordered it, we were expecting the whole wait staff to bring it out on a giant platter while singing and dancing, fireworks in the background, fire dancers in the aisle, eating fire swords and throwing knives around, etc.

While the presentation was not quite as famous as we had expected, the meat certainly lived up to our expectations, so we still go there to celebrate special events.

Jack took a photo of me with the famous presentation to commemorate the occasion. I felt compelled to share it with you.

It's a piece of lettuce. But a very beautiful and famous piece of lettuce.

After SB and I were stuffed to the max, we capped the night off at the theater.

The day after my birthday is always such a letdown. After being catered to for the whole entire day, things always go back to normal on August 19. Not so this year. Luckily, I had a baby shower on Sunday, so the fun just went on and on all weekend. Unfortunately, my sister was in charge of taking pictures, and she only took one with my camera. It's of me, sitting my huge rear in a chair, stuffing my face with cake. I opted not to post that one. Thanks, MB. You can always catch me at my best.

The shower was tons of fun though, and SB got a lot of great presents. Her favorite part was the cake, which she had 2 pieces of - one at the shower and another one for dessert last night. I swear my doctor is going to kill me when I weigh in on Thursday. Maybe SB will hurry up and be born this week before I have to get on the scale again.

We're Gonna Party Like It's My Birthday

Sorry to be brief today, but it happens to be a very important day. Yes, that's right. It's my birthday. Jack is very excited about it. Today, I get to be the boss. Since it's a Saturday, he doesn't have to work, but instead gets to do everything I want to do. He is super pumped. Especially about painting the rocking chair and hanging the curtain rod in SB's room, which is almost finished, by the way. Pictures soon, I promise.

I had the whole day planned out, minute by minute, until Heather threw a wrench in my plans by telling me that Bops now has root beer frosties. I will now have to rearrange my schedule slightly to include a pit stop there. I'm sure Jack won't mind.

Have a wonderful weekend, readers, and I'll be back on Monday, as long as SB doesn't make her appearance this weekend. I've already told her to wait until after my birthday is over, although my doctor told me on Thursday that she could come anytime. I sure hope she doesn't ruin my weekend.

Also, many happy returns of the day to my dear husband, who for my special day booked us a beach house for the wine tour in October!! YAY JACK! Since we weren't able to get away this weekend (doctor's orders: stay home!), he went ahead and told me that we're going to spend Oct. 18-21 in Rosemary Beach with a few friends.

I can't wait!

Professional Tiler

I think I may have found a new career. I mean, I thought I was excited when I became a housewife, but this......I don't know. It makes me a little nervous to think that I may have missed my calling in life.

What is it, you may ask? A fire chief, like Heather? A cow viagra salesman, like Meredith? Or a magician/cocktail waitress, perhaps, like my brother Rob. Close, but no.

I believe I was born to be a ceramic tile installer. If you know anyone who does this for a living, then you have probably heard them complain about how hard it is. Such backbreaking work and quite slow-going at times. Don't believe them. They're only looking for sympathy.

I spent the better part of this week as Jack's assistant while he tiled the floor at our spec house. -Side note- If anyone is looking to buy a beautiful house just outside of town but still in the school district, reasonably priced with a great floor plan and on a large lot, let's talk. Have I got the deal of a lifetime for you. (Meredith and Philip are not the only salesmen in our family.)

But I digressed. As I was saying, I spent Monday-Wednesday laying 850 sq. feet of ceramic tile. And boy was I good at it. The first day was a little rough, because I hadn't quite figured out how to do it properly. I almost couldn't walk on Tuesday because I was so sore. But Taskmaster Jack dragged me back to work anyway, and bless his heart for making me go. Now I know what I've been missing.

You just have to figure out the right way to do it. I know what you're thinking. "Emily! You've been laying tile while 9 months pregnant?? How incredibly brave and strong you must be! I wish I had your strength and stamina!" Well, thank you, but I really don't deserve all that praise. Most of it, but probably not all of it. Allow me to share my wisdom with the rest of you. This is the way it is properly done.

A. Take a comfortable chair.
B. Take another chair, level of comfortableness not so important here, as this one is for propping your feet on.
C. Have snacks and cell phone within arms reach, in case you get hungry/bored.
D. Have someone else (Jack is really good at this) tile the floor while you make helpful suggestions. I've included a few for you first timers:

1. I think you may have missed a spot.
2. Don't forget to clean that baseboard behind you.
3. That line isn't very straight. Maybe you should go back and do that one again.
4. Didn't you just take a break like 4 hours ago? (you can't let the person who is doing the actual work slack off too much. It just makes you look bad.)

After I figured out how tiling is supposed to work, I enjoyed it a whole lot more. I kept busy handing Jack sponges so he could keep his work area clean. That was my most important job. I sat with my feet propped up and a bucket of water next to me. He would hand me a dirty sponge. I would clean it, squeeze it out, and wait for him to yell, "SPONGE!" Then I would hand it back to him.

And he even taught me how to use his tile cutter, so he could yell out measurements and I could mess them up. Math never was my best subject. I did cut a few pieces that turned out beautifully, but most of the time, I just created more work for Jack as he had to come behind me and fix my mistakes.

Regardless, if my career as a mom doesn't work out, I can always drop the kids off at daycare and go back to my first love. Watching Jack work, that is.

Also, watching Jack break his back this week inspired me to write another poem, this one dedicated to my husband. It's called "My Husband" by Emily Redwood. I know, I'm excited too. Here it is.

You broke your back, you hurt your knees, but you tiled the floor.
Your name is Jack.
A tiler from heaven, but you are a roofer too.
Selfishly, I try to keep you home, while the heat eats away at your employees' organs, like an unstoppable rebel force.
But I can keep you inside the AC no longer, as the tiling is finished. And I shall squeeze your sponges nevermore, nevermore, nevermore...until we tile again in heaven.

Voting in righteous george michael is noble

I just got a phone call. It was a good one. Andrew and Jennifer are sitting next to George Michael Bluth. Can you believe that??

Let's back up. Let's Tarantino this story.

First of all, Jack and I were scheduled to leave today with my brother Andrew and his wife Jennifer for Vegas for our ever-important fantasy football draft. However, SB's due date is way too close for me to be flying anywhere, so we're homebound while Andrew and Jen jet set around the country. I just got off the phone with Jennifer, who called to rub it in a little that they were on their way to Las Vegas and we were sitting in Stark Vegas. At least I assumed that's why she was calling.

Instead, she mentioned that they were laid over in LA, and they had just noticed Michael Cera sitting a few rows down.

Michael Cera is better known as George Michael (not to be confused with the singer/songwriter) on the insanely hilarious television show Arrested Development. Unfortunately, the larger portion of the Fox viewing audience was much too untelligent to appreciate the show, and it was cancelled.

Anyway, this guy is really funny; he's got a movie coming out on Friday called Superbad. I'll be sure to review it for you after I see it.

So I'm waiting to hear back from Andrew and Jen. I hope she gets the guts to say hey to him. I told her it was my birthday wish to talk to him on the phone. I'm anxiously awaiting a callback. I'll let you know how it goes.

I always miss the celebrity sightings. Last time Jack was in New Orleans, he hung out with Harry Shearer. I missed it because I didn't want to make the trip. Now I miss out on seeing George Michael. It's a shame. Maybe one day I'll get to meet someone famous. If any celebrities are out there reading this, I want to meet you. Post a comment and we'll talk.

An elephant never forgets

I can't believe how many things have happened recently that I forgot to post about. I guess I've been busier than I thought, what with all the Murry reruns that have been on lately.

My cute cousin LB got married almost 2 weeks ago. We had a blast the whole week before since she and Mere were both in town to do wedding prep. We went to Tipico, watched The Office and ate a lot of MSU ice cream (what do you mean, that ice cream wasn't for us??)

Here's the happy couple, thanks to LT. I totally stole this photo from her blog.

My mom and aunts hosted the bridesmaids brunch at my house on Friday morning. The food was so yummy. I thought surely my aunts would leave some of the leftovers in my refrigerator, but those hungry ladies cleaned me out!

The BMs at the brunch, plus a few extras.

All the BMs with LB

After a few hours on my feet, taking photos and whatnot, I was about ready for a break. So I put my feet up for a little while before the ceremony, and Mere totally busted me on it.

All I needed was an RBF and a little TV set. Would have been just like home.

The wedding was beautiful, and LBs dad kept the ceremony as brief as he knew how... Lucky for LB, my water didn't break or anything while I was walking down the aisle, but certainly not for lack of trying. I didn't pass out or have any leg cramps while standing up at the front, although I did all I could to keep the focus on me. (As if my gigantic stomach wasn't enough of an attention getter.)

My uncle assured me that if I needed to sit down during the ceremony, I could. We even tossed around the idea of having a large throne made just for the occasion, to be placed front and center in case my feet needed a rest. Unfortunately, we were not able to have one made on such short notice, so I just toughed it out.

The day after the wedding, several ladies hosted a baby shower for me and SB at Mrs. Bonnie's house. (You'll be hearing more about her when I post the nursery photos. She's the bomb.) Anyway, they bent over backwards to make everything look really cute, and they were very successful.

Here are the hostesses: Mrs. Sue, Lindsey, (fat me in the middle) Mrs. Cathy and Mrs. Bonnie

Lindsey made that diaper cake in the middle of the table. Can you believe how cute it is??

It was a fun shower with some of the best tasting cakes I have ever eaten. This shower definitely played a big part in my high score at the doctor's office last week.

Anyway, it was a really fun weekend, but I'm glad things have settled down. By the end of this week, SB's room should be ready for her arrival, and I think I'll be ready too. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon with an update after I see the doctor.