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.

Some Assembly Required

Sorry for the extended absence; we've been very busy! Over the weekend we attended a wedding and had Jack's brother in town to visit. This time, we made him earn his keep. We put his rear end to work putting together baby furniture.

After putting together the crib, Jack was a little burned out on furniture assembly. I was ecstatic about the dresser and changing table; I begged the boys to put them together for me over the weekend. Rob made a huge mistake by telling us that he “kinda likes that sort of thing.”

So first thing Saturday morning, Jack and I went to pick up the furniture. First sign of danger: the box said “easy assembly.” When we got home, Rob was awake and ready for action. I made myself useful by parking it on the couch and pointing helpfully to the tools they needed.

"I've made a HUGE mistake."

Just how he wanted to spend his Saturday. Working hard to be the favorite uncle.

Jack sort of thought his contribution could be taking a nap while Rob worked and I looked on. Since Rob enjoys furniture assembly so very much.

Jack napped with Judah while I saw to it that Rob stayed busy.

We started with the changing table, which actually went together pretty quickly. From my view from the couch, I was surprised at how easy it was. Then we opened the dresser box. I wish I had a picture of the 5,000 pieces it contained. For a moment, we all stood (I sat) in awe of all the tiny pieces that were supposed to fit together to form one giant thing. Then I cracked my whip and put Rob back to work. I offered to help a few times, but ended up going to the kitchen for a snack instead (an RBF, of course).

We all took a short break to go to a wedding that afternoon. Then I went to a garage sale while Jack helped Rob with the rest of the furniture assembly. A long day of hard work, but the finished product...so worth all the time and effort I put into it. Jack was just glad that I wouldn't be hounding him about it anymore like I did when we got the crib. And Rob didn't mind the work either, especially after I told him that I would take lots of pictures and post about it on the blog.

So here's to you, Mr. Baby Furniture Assembly Guy. Thanks to you, Jack and I will never have to change our daughter on the couch, or the floor, or in the crib. Her clothes will be safely stowed away inside a dresser, not hastily hung in the closet or tossed about on the floor. So crack open an ice cold Jones soda, oh sultan of the screwdriver. And rest easy tonight, knowing that no baby will ever have better assembled furniture than SB.

Mr. Baby Furniture Assembly Guy

PS- I should also mention many happy returns of the day to my brother Philip, who helped Jack put the crib together last week. Philip, I found all the extra screws and nails that somehow didn't make it into the crib hidden at the top of SB's closet. I know you threw the instructions away halfway through the project, since you are a professional furniture assemblyman and pen salesman, and who needs directions anyway. If her crib ever falls apart due to lack of screws and/or nails, I'll know who to blame. Otherwise, no harm, no foul.

Hold your horses, SB

So I went to the doctor yesterday. And I was right. I scored WAY too high. I'm not going to say how much I gained...let's just say it was a lot. Dr. W. wasn't too mad though. He just laughed when he asked how I was feeling and I replied, "hungry." I promised him that I had been snacking healthy. I forgot to mention the RBFs.

Now for the good news. I think. He asked me if I thought she had moved down yet, and I said no. I was wrong. She's already in position for birth, 5 weeks away from the DD. Then he asked if I thought anything was going on down there, and again I said no. Wrong again. He told me that I'm already 1 cm dilated and 70% effaced. I almost fell off the table.

He told me not to go anywhere, because I'm not going to make it to my DD. Boy, was I excited. All day yesterday I was thinking, this is what I've been wanting since I got pregnant. Every day I wish she would hurry up and roll up out.

Then reality set in about 4 this morning. She woke me up with a severe case of the hiccups and a few violent punches in the bladder. I started thinking about the stuff I haven't done yet. We still don't have her car seat, and her dresser and changing table aren't here yet either! I need more time.

The news yesterday also made my fear of going into labor much more real. I just don't know if I can do this. Also, Jack and I had big plans to go to Memphis in 2 weeks for one of our fantasy football drafts. I hope she waits until after that.

On a brighter note, we are in a secret race against Jack's cousin to have the first great grandchild on his dad's side. We've already got the trophy on lockdown for his mom's side, but his cousin's baby (on his dad's side) is due only a week after ours. So, since SB is now scheduled to make her appearance a little early, I suppose that gives us an edge over the competition. I better find out what's going on with his cousin's fetus. I hope he's not coming early too. Maybe I should go ahead and schedule an induction?

So anyway, I'll keep everyone posted on her progress. I'm trying not to hyperventilate over here. It's so real all of a sudden! Dr. W. said I'd probably make it another week, but after that, who knows. My birthday is in 8 days; I hope she will at least wait until after that because we are going to party down next Saturday. You're all invited, but if my water breaks, please pretend not to notice.

Pregnancy Fears

As we draw closer and closer to the big day, I've sort of been letting my imagination run a little too wild. My biggest fear is that I will be somewhere, all alone, in a very public place, and my water will break. I don't even go to the grocery store by myself anymore. My verbal excuse has been that I cannot lift heavy items like the giant packages of bottled water that we buy on a regular basis.

Jack has been a good sport to go with me and take care of the heavy lifting, but the real truth is that I have this recurring nightmare that I'm in Wal Mart, my cart packed full of refrigerated/frozen items, and my water breaks. Everyone around me thinks I've just wet my pants and they are all laughing hysterically at the fat girl who didn't make it to the bathroom in time.

You know, it's a fact that pregnant women often have trouble with incontinence. As my uterus swells from the size of an orange to the size of a giant watermelon and beyond, this leaves little room for my bladder, which is now the size of a small grape, to expand.

Watermelon

Grape

While I have not yet had to deal with this particular problem, it's not a stretch to assume that many people WOULD think I had just lost control of my bladder if my water really did break in the grocery store. I have worked up several emergency plans for when I go into labor, depending on the time and place. If it happens in Wal Mart, we'll just pretend like we're leaving the cart only for a second to go check the prices on kiwi (those are near the exit). I'll have Jack walk right behind me so no one can see my wet pants, and then we'll make a break for the door.


I've also revised my walking route. I now stay much closer to my house, instead of walking a half mile away before turning around. I also keep my cell phone with me at all times, just in case. This morning I stayed within a 2 block radius of our house, on a new route; this one much more shaded.


On a side note, I don't believe I've ever mentioned the daminator on here before. I almost ran through his sprinkler this morning; it was so hot! There is a man who lives 2 blocks from us who drives a large van with a vanity tag. It says dmmn8tr. Jack and I were trying to decide if the man builds dams for a living or if he's just a Baptist preacher. (No offense to my Baptist readers; if his plate had said "Snakethrower" or "Poisondrinker" I would have guessed nondenominational. I love Baptists.)


I go to the doctor today, and I must admit, I'm a little worried about my score. I haven't been on the scale in over a month, since my last visit was just a sonogram and we skipped the other doctor visit routines. Lately, I've been downing RBFs like it's my job. I realized that this addiction might be a problem earlier this week when I went to the kitchen for my 2 pm feeding. I had a mini panic attack after I found the root beer, but when I opened the freezer I realized I had nothing to float with it! I had to break my "no going to the grocery store alone" rule since Jack had finished off the ice cream over the weekend but hadn't bothered to tell me about it.


Not to worry though. I got a gallon of ice cream and made it home without my water breaking in the store.


As I was saying, I'm a little worried about my score. While I realize that I'm pregnant, and therefore I am supposed to gain weight, I think I might have overdone it slightly. After my last visit, when Doc said SB was a little small for her age and maybe I could eat a little more, I've been to extremes to consume all things edible within my reach.


So I think I might score a little too high today on the scales. SB is probably going to weigh 15 pounds by the time she gets here. Lord, help me.

Entertainer Extraordinaire

Those of you who were present at Thursday nights festivities can attest to Jack's storytelling abilities. Although I thought I made it clear that he was not invited, since it is his house, we let him visit with us for a while. And oh the joy that abounded from our living room as Jack got comfortable with his audience.

He entertained for an hour, mostly with his stories about an interesting young man, who shall be referred to herein only as "Frost the Mute." When Jack gets going, it's hard to slow him down. He gets very enthusiastic when telling a story, often going to extremes to demonstrate the action for his audience.

One of my favorite Jack stories involves a certain establishment, dubbed by Jack as the "Land Of Wandering Employee Shmucks." You do the math. Jack frequents this establishment, often multiple times daily, to purchase items for work. One instance involved him attempting to return an item that did not work. He approached the counter with a large sign proclaiming it to be "CUSTOMER SERVICE" which is a rather ironic title considering how little the employees of this company care for their customers.

He explained to the 18-year-old "customer service expert" that he had just bought this tool, the tool did not work, he was not happy about it. He wanted another one immediately. Her response? A very matter-of-fact, "Go get it," as she continued to peck away at her keyboard.

Jack's eyebrows raised in surprise. There was only one explanation for her rudeness. So he asked her, "Is this your first day?"

To which she replied, "I been here for six month."

Jack: "You've been WHERE for six months? Hiding in the crapper?"

While she was not amused, Jack, as he often does, found himself quite hilarious but was eventually able to recover, go get a replacement tool and check out, with another customer service expert, of course.

I'd also like to bring up the fact that Jack has always been a comedian. When in high school, he always got good grades, but there was one instance where a teacher returned a paper to him with a less than satisfactory grade placed upon it.

His response? "I should have worked harder on this paper. I'm very sorry. I'll do better next time."

Nay.

Instead, he placed the blame exactly where it belonged. On the young teacher, who clearly didn't know good writing when she saw it. How dare she give him such a bad grade?

So, in front of the entire classroom, he asked her what did she think was the worst way to die? And also, did she have fire insurance on her home? All in good fun, of course. Until he got home and found out the principal had tattled on him to his parents. His punishment? An apology and he had to offer to mow her lawn for free for the whole summer. Wonder why she didn't accept?

Jack is also a mighty hunter. Until recently, we lived out in the country with our landlord's hunting land right outside our door. Since we saw deer in our yard all the time, Jack would occasionally feel the urge to "go hunting."

His idea of hunting, however, is him sitting in his nice, warm truck with a shotgun pointed out the window. I kid you not. On many occasions, he would call me in a whisper and tell me to be real quiet when I drove up the driveway because he was "hunting."

One December morning, around 4:30, Jack is restless and decides to "go hunting" in his truck. He rustles around the bedroom, looking for his gun and ammo, changing clothes, etc. Of course this wakes me up. After about 15 minutes of "hunting," he finally realizes that in December, the sun doesn't come up until after 6, and he can't see a thing in the thick darkness outside. So he comes back in, makes some more noise, and I finally decide I'm not getting back to sleep.

Since Christmas was only a few days away, we decided to beat the crowd and go get some Wal Mart shopping out of the way at 5 am. We took my little Altima, but he carefully placed his loaded gun in the backseat, "in case we see a deer when we get back."

When we got back, the sun was up and as we were about to find out, so were the neighbors. As we neared the driveway, Jack eased the gun out of the back seat, and, just in case, went ahead and pointed it out his window. We slowly pulled into the driveway and drove past the neighbors house. There at the window was our neighbor, naked, standing in shock as we drove past him, Jack pointing a loaded gun right at him.

We didn't speak to the neighbors for a long time after that. Jack didn't get a deer that season, but he did let me shoot one on Christmas Eve.

Call me Deerslayer.

Jack Redwood: Husband, Father (to be), Entertainer Extraordinaire

Well congratulations to me. and Jack. Today is our 3rd wedding anniversary. In lieu of buying him a nice gift, I thought I would pay blogging tribute to the man who made all my dreams come true.

We met, technically, when I was only about 15 years old. He and my brother were roommates at MSU. I seem to have lost all the wonderful photos of me at that age, but trust me, I was quite the looker at age 15. Trust me. However, he for some reason never took notice of me until I graduated from high school. My brothers were both so excited to hear how hot Jack thought I was, and they were both very excited when Jack started dating their little sister.

My mother always asked Jack when he was going to marry one of her daughters...It's funny how she stopped saying that after Jack asked my dad if he could start calling me. I'm sure the two are unrelated.

Okay, so there was a little tension when we first started dating-Jack is 5 years older than I am, and I was only 18 and living 2 hours away at the time.

After he got my father's blessing and convinced me to marry him, well, the rest is history. and now my family members are all counting their lucky stars that Jack is in the family. I wish I had a wedding photo to post, but our scanner is broken. Trust me, we both looked fantastic.

Fast forward about 2 years. We've been enjoying marital bliss long enough and decide it's time to throw a little chaos in the mix. We've had enough freedom to go and do and travel whenever we feel the urge. We spent enough time on our own, enjoying the late Saturday mornings and leisurely Sunday afternoon naps. Enough is enough! That's right. We decided to start having kids.

I'm not totally certain what drugs we were high on when we decided to nix the birth control and reproduce, but it must have been something good. I graduated in December of 2006 and we took a week-long cruise to celebrate over New Years. It was the most fun trip we have ever taken. We decided to make it a yearly event. A week after we returned from the Caribbean, a little surprise was waiting. A positive pregnancy test.

We went nuts; we were so excited. We were going to make great parents, for sure. We already had lots of practice with my brother's little girl.

Don't we look like naturals?

It was a while before reality began to set in. We were scheduled to go to Vegas next week for the all important fantasy football draft. However, at 8 months pregnant, that flight is out of the question. Our friends are going without us, and we'll have to make our picks over the phone. Our 2nd annual new year's cruise is also an impossibility with a 3 month old. All our fun, spoiled. What were we thinking?


Jack thinks we can just hand off SB to my parents and take off whenever we feel like it. After all, what are grandparents for? He also thinks that HE can sleep at night after she gets here, since I'll be the one who has to nurse her. He also thinks that our kids will never cry and/or throw fits in public. Nay, our children will be perfect in every way.


He also thinks he won't be wrapped around her little finger the second he holds her in his arms for the first time. He also thinks that he will be a strict disciplinarian; she'll never get away with anything. Those big brown eyes won't work on him. He's too smart for that.


I don't doubt him when he says she won't date until he's dead. I pity the poor boy who comes knocking on our door to take little SB out on her first date. Jack will probably be cleaning his guns in the living room, which he of course does all the time.

Jack can be a rather intimidating figure, when he hasn't just woken up from a nap.

In all seriousness, Jack's going to be a great dad. I have no doubt. I also think we're both in for a rude awakening, but we're both very excited. I actually had a dream last night that SB was born today, on our anniversary. Although I'm very ready for her to get the heck out of my uterus, which is now 1,000 times its original size by the way, she can't come just yet. We went to get our car seat yesterday, only to discover that they don't sell them in the store anymore. We had to order it online.

AFTER I confirmed the order and paid for it, the estimated arrival date showed up. It should be here in 2 weeks. Not one week, like originally promised on the Web site. So hopefully she will hold on another couple of weeks until we can legally take her home from the hospital.

I feel like I've gone on long enough for one day. I've got to prepare for an afternoon on the couch, watching Murry and our wedding video. I'll be back tomorrow to fulfill the entertainer extraordinaire portion of Jack's life. I have many stories. Few will survive.

Don't Trust your Voice Within

Alright, let's do this. "Haters" can contact Ashley at 1-800-I-Don't-Care.
If you don't have time to watch the whole thing, just listen to her intro, then skip ahead until there's only 1:40 left.

Terminal ADHD

Jack sent me this link, and I felt compelled to share it. First of all, I just want to say that I would like to dedicate this post and the video above to a really close friend of mine who has recently been diagnosed with the chicken pox. I don't really know how she's doing right now, but she's in my heart and in my prayers.

I'd also like to share a few of the comments that people have posted on youtube for this singing starlet. However, they will probably make more sense after watching the video.

"listening to this was like stabbing myself in the ear with a refrigerator"
"because of you i am now deaf, thanks to your singing i poured acid in my ears then prod them with my knife"
"Omg, my brother has just been diagnosed with ADHD, and he has only 80 more years left to live.. give or take a few years. Yep, it's terminal." [In one of her first comments, the girl in the video responded to a "hater" that her friend's ADHD was terminal.]

At first, I was sure this was a joke. However, as it went on, I became more and more convinced that this girl is really serious. I give it a 10.