Prego... Not the Spaghetti Sauce.

I've known for some time now that Hubby and I are expecting a little bundle towards the end of May.  Right now I'm only telling people via word of mouth.  I haven't made it "Facebook Official".  But today I just feel like I need to get a few things off my chest.  I truly feel like this will be safe for a while because it's been so long since I've written a blog post that I don't think I have any followers left.

I would first like to preface this post with the following.  I am beyond all laws of excited to be pregnant.  I talk to my "Little Bean" every day.  I tell him or her what they are missing today in the outside world.  I pray over my slightly bloated belly that my sweet baby is growing and healthy and happy.  I tell Little Bean about all of the people in the world that are just chomping at the bit to meet him and how much he or she is loved.

I say all of that to say this.  Pregnancy is hard.  I never thought it would be easy, really, but it's really a lot harder than I think I was prepared for.  Now, I would go through symptoms so much worse than this if that's what I had to do to have my little miracle be healthy.  Don't get me wrong, I'm in this for the greater good of my child.  But that doesn't change the fact that sometimes, it just down right sucks.  And now, some random notes on that -

- The term "morning sickness" is an all encompassing vat of lies.  I've come to realize as you try to find sympathy with other mommies-to-be that everyone's experience is completely different.  Take me for example, I suffered from almost completely day long nausea from before I even took a test until late last week.  I never threw up (due to that anyway, we'll get to the puking later).  I just felt like absolute crap all day.

- Feeling like crap is a good segway to how absolutely freaking tired I am.  I try to get through this by telling myself that my Little Bean needs our energy more than I do in order to grow.  But Mommy also needs to stay awake at work so that Little Bean will still have a house to live in when he or she is born.  The only slight help I've found for this are chocolate milk breaks.  Or naps on the weekends.  Naps are better.  Chocolate milk is only a slight diversion.

- TMI ALERT - Again, while we're on the subject of "crap", I"ll never take that for granted again.  I feel like the nausea and exhaustion are secretly fueled by my inability to "take the Browns to the Super Bowl".  I'm not going to elaborate much beyond that but, really, after I had gas cramps so bad that I puked, I don't think I'll ever take a simple fart for granted again.

- OTHER PEOPLE!!!  Lord have mercy and give me patience but people say some of the stupidest stuff.  Like the unsolicited advice.  I understand and appreciate when people tell me to take ginger supplements to help the nausea, take warm baths to help things "flow", things like that.  But when you start telling me "Tired!  You haven't even seen tired yet!", I think I should be allowed to bitch slap you.  I'm aware that I haven't seen tired yet but that comment does not help keep me awake at 3:00 in the afternoon on a Wednesday.  Or "Oh, you're not far along enough to be showing, how much are you eating?"  Really, like I don't know that I shouldn't be sporting this awesome looking fanny pack of flesh?  Furthermore, who are you to tell me what I should or should not look like?  Are you my OB? No, so shut up.  ALSO - I can barely eat anything and when I can, I can't eat large portions!  I have in fact LOST four pounds.  There are things that can distend your abdomen other than cheeseburgers.  Get it straight.  Lastly - "You shouldn't be eating that."  Look, I'm following most of my recommendations.  I don't eat tuna every day.  I limit my caffeine to less than the allowed parameters.  I don't eat sushi or cockroaches or any other ridiculous thing I'm not supposed to eat for obvious reasons.  But if I've been so nauseous all day that I barely made it through church and all that sounds good to me is a great big sub sandwich, kiss my cold cuts.  When's the last time you heard of an outbreak of listeria on Oscar Meyer honey smoked ham?  Never.  Shut it.

- Adjusting my wardrobe has been less than fun.  Sure, shopping is great.  But it's not like I can just replace my whole wardrobe at one time.  My mom has been the sweetest and started out my maternity clothes collection for me.  I have also, in an effort to extend the life of my pre-pregnancy pants, purchased a belly band.  Now, this thing is great to keep me from feeling like I'm splitting in half at 3:00 sitting at my computer.  However, if I actually have to do any sort of lifting or bending over or slight physical exertion, forget it.  It rolls every which way.  It shifts every time you move.  Not to mention how I now am limited to shirts that are long enough to be tunics to cover the thing.  But it is better than the rubber band around the button trick.  I will say that.

- Most days I find a point where I realize what Linda Blair was going for when she played in The Exorcist.  I just literally feel like some unknown bitchy, weepy, crazy person has taken me over sometimes.  The worst part is, my normal consciousness is inside, observing the goings on, and I'm not happy about it.  So then, when "I" finally re-surface I cry some more because I feel horrible about how I've acted, about the things I've said and done, etc. 

Here are some random awesome things:
- Chocolate tastes better than it's ever tasted before
- I saw my Little Bean's heart beat.  It was the coolest sight and sound ever.
- I love holding my belly, even this early when it's barely even there and is mostly gas.
- You wouldn't believe all of the sodas that come in a caffeine free variety!
- I feel even more in love with my husband than I did the day I married him.  And he's given me the greatest gift he could ever give me.

Ragged... And Loving It

I know this apology is repetitive.  I've said it before and I've meant it as much every time as I do today.  I'm sorry for my lag in posts.  This time, however, I have a good reason!  I have secured gainful employment and have been working myself ragged for a month now.  I will not disclose where I work because this is a personal blog but I can tell you that I am a Private Dining Director in an upscale restaurant and I love it.  I love nothing more than making people happy and I have finally found a job where I am actually getting paid to do just that.  I also love each and every one of my co-workers and the company I work for.  They are all so supportive and that is part of the reason I've been at work so much.  The training process is very detailed and there is lots to learn so I've been at work more than I've been home for the last month.  This has caused a change in my home life, obviously, and it's one that I'm still having a hard time adjusting to.

You see, I had gotten quite used to being the quintessential housewife.  I did the laundry, kept the house clean, did the grocery shopping, and had full meals on the table every day.  But, now that I've been working these tasks have been taken over by my husband who is also working.  Some things have lagged, the house is not as clean as it was, dishes may or may not sit in the sink for more than a day but really, it's the best we can both do.  I feel guilty for this because I have done less than 5% of this work.  The earliest I have gotten home each day has been 7:00 and that was this past Monday.  Usually it's more like 8:30 or 9:00 and I know the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is housework.  Hubby has been doing a wonderful job taking care of the things I feel like should fall on me despite the fact that I know he doesn't want to do those things after he gets home from a full day of work either.  This all leads me to my question: How on earth do people do this??

I know that it is a normal part of life in this day and age for both spouses to work and there are plenty of people who work more than I do and still get all of these things done, but how?  When I get home all I want to do is rest and spend quality time with my husband.  We still try to get to bed at a decent hour so that we are well rested in the morning when we get up so staying up late isn't an option.  I guess I could be doing something around here instead of blogging but how do I keep myself from getting caught up in the cleaning and making myself late for work?

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my job.  I feel fulfilled every time I put together an event or have a guest say "Thank you for making this easy".  I love knowing that if I don't hit my sales goals each month it is no one's fault but my own which gives me the drive to get up every day, get out there, and sell my tail off.  I enjoy my time at work and I haven't even counted the number of hours I work each day or week which is a first.  I know that things will slow down after December and I'll be able to get into a more normal routine but right now I'm just not sure how to achieve that home/life balance.  I don't bring work home.  I may be guilty of checking my work e-mail on my laptop before checking Facebook but I spend no more than 5 minutes doing so.  That's another perk of the job - when I'm home, I'M HOME.  So how, I ask, do I find that place where I feel like I'm giving 100% to my work and 100% to my home and my family?  If you have figured that out in your own life please let me know.  I think it's darn near impossible!!!

Paying Tribute

Recently Hubby and I attended an Atlanta Braves game. This game was monumental for us for many reasons, some which were apparent to us when we made plans for our trip and some which were cemented last night. This season was the final season that we would see the marvelous #6, Bobby Cox, manage the Bravos.

Bobby has been the Braves' manager since 1985.  Hubby and I were 2 years old then and so he is the only manager we have ever known for our favorite baseball team.  We're both huge fans.  We cheer with the crowd even when we're just watching the game on television.  I'm fairly sure that my neighbors think I'm insane because of that.  I have been known to yell at pitchers, scream for victory, and do the Tomahawk Chop all with the windows open for everyone to hear.  It's OK, I'm secure enough to not care.  So when the announcement was made that the Skipper was retiring this year we both knew that we had to see one last game.  We had hopes, especially earlier in the season, that the Braves would make it to the World Series but just to be safe we planned a trip to see the opening game of the last regular season series against the division champions, the Philadelphia Phillies.  We didn't want to miss our chance and it just so happened that it was also the weekend of Hubby's birthday.  

This is Herman.  He was our ever so sweet usher for the evening.  He welcomed us into our section of Turner Field with a warm hello and an introduction.  Over the course of the evening he endeared himself to our hearts as he cheered for the Braves, let us all know that they WOULD go to the playoffs, he kicked people who were 20 years his junior (though still senior citizens themselves) out of someone else's seats, and told every single woman in our section that we were cute.  Herman has worked for the Braves every year that Bobby Cox has been manager, a full 25 years.  I assume he took the job when he retired from whatever it was he did in his younger life.  He saw the Braves move from Fulton County Stadium to Turner Field.  He was there for every blockbuster year in the '90s.  He was there for the strike and the year they won the World Series.  Herman is THE ultimate fan and I love him!

I know that this blog is typically about food so I had to share with you my favorite culinary delight of the evening: the Jumbo Dog.  I'm normally a chili and slaw girl with my hot dogs but when you're at the ball park there's nothing better than grilled peppers and onions, relish, and a ton of mustard.  I would also like to report that I ate this whole hot dog while wearing an all white shirt and didn't spill a drop on myself.  Hip Hip Hooray!

We didn't win that night. Despite a late rally by our good old boys the Phillies prevailed that evening.  That did not, however, change this one simple fact:

And so Hubby and I left Turner Field that evening and tipped our hats to the Skipper.  We had hoped after the Braves went on to secure the Wild Card that Sunday that maybe we would still see them in the World Series and have one last chance to say goodbye to Bobby.  But those dreams were let go last night as the San Francisco Giants took away our chances of advancing to the NLCS.  So take a moment with me to become a Braves fan if you aren't one and thank one of the greatest managers in Major League Baseball.

Thanks Bobby.  All the best.

I'll Get To It Sometime

So, I'll go ahead and warn you, this post doesn't have much of a purpose.

I have some ideas for upcoming blog posts.

I will detail our trip to the North Carolina Zoological Park.

I will give you a pictorial view of an average day as a housewife.

I will tell you all about my current project of making myself a new Christmas tree skirt.

I will give you weekly updates on my attempt to serve 18 people Thanksgiving dinner on a budget.

I will tell you all about our trip to Atlanta this weekend for a Braves game against the Phillies. Just so you know, the Phillies took the division lead away from the Braves and now we're trying to hang on to the Wild Card bid into the MLB playoffs. And by "we" I do mean myself and the Braves. I'm part of the team....

I will tell you about the town I grew up in.

I will tell you all about Hornworms and the love / hate relationship I have with them.

But for today I'm just telling you about the things I'm going to do. That way, maybe I'll actually do them. On that note, maybe I should tell you about all of the things I need to do today before we leave, so that I will actually get them done. But then again, I don't want to lose all 5 people who read this blog. If I were to list those things you would all die of boredom. And I'm not a murderer. Unless you count Stink bugs. In which case, I'm guilty as charged and proud of it.

Here's a thought - would you guys tell me if you even want to hear about any of these things? Please, comment, tell me if I should even spend my time writing about any of this stuff. And if I shouldn't please let me know what you would like for me to blog about. World peace, the life of a watermelon, whatever.

Also, once you've done that, check out Single Dad Laughing. He's heartwarming, thought provoking, and hilarious!

I'm a Cheater

So, in reading one of the blogs I follow by Little Mrs. Married I found this other fun blog myleighashley and found a fun (could also be read lazy) way to provide a mid-week blog post.  So here you are, a wee bit of me.


{one} have you ever won a trophy? if yes, for what?YES!  I won 3 "Glennys" while I was in high school.  It was my high school (Robert B. Glenn) drama department's answer to the Emmys.  One for Best Actress at the North Carolina Theater Conference that year in "A Friend of Mine", one for best actress in the spring show of 1999 which was "Help! I'm Trapped in a High School!", and one for ensemble acting in "A Piece of My Heart" again at NCTC my senior year.
{two} what was your favorite subject in school?Given the above, Drama.  I was "that" girl...
{three} what time do you get up in the morning?When Hubby has to work between 5:00 and 5:30, when he doesn't or he goes in later we sleep really late and get up around 8:00
{four} if you could open your own business, what would it be?A pie shop.  I love making pie.  And I don't know one person who doesn't like to eat pie.  Wanna be an investor?  I'll "feed" you the business plan until you're convinced!
{five} if you could spend the evening with one rock star/band, who would it be?Hmm, a band in the rock genre.  Aerosmith.  They must have fun stories.
{six} what sitcom character reminds you of you?MaryJo Shively from Designing Women.  I can rant like Julia but I just don't have the guts to do it to whoever or whatever has made me that angry.
{seven} what are the 3 most important things to you?most certainly my family, my faith in God, and my KitchenAid mixer
{eight} chips or popcorn?Popcorn.  There is a popcorn hierarchy though.  1) Homemade, 2) Movie Theater, 3)Microwave, 4) from a holiday tin, and 5) bagged from the snack aisle
{nine} have you ever ordered anything from an infomercial?Not from the infomercial itself but I have purchased infomercial items at the store. Many, including but not limited to a George Foreman grill, a PedEgg, and Perfect Straps
{ten} what is one thing that you are grateful for today?Partylite

Reverence & Rememberance

I, like all Americans older than 12, remember where I was 9 years ago today.  I think I will always remember.  I hope I never forget.  I was a college freshman in Charleston, South Carolina.  I had only been away from my family for a week and a half and the newness of college, new friends, a new town, new experiences, a new boyfriend, had yet to wear off and really make me homesick.  However, on this day 9 years ago, that was brought to an abrupt halt.  I suddenly wanted nothing more than to be at home with my mom hugging me and telling me it was going to be OK.  I woke up a little before 9:00 that morning.  Unlike most new college students, my classes didn't start until 1:30 in the afternoon.  For an 18 year old who had never been on her own it was great.  It was even greater that my first class of college was Mixology - the science of being a bartender.  I wasn't even old enough to drink the beverages I was learning to concoct but how cool would that make me among my high school friends when we all saw each other again at Thanksgiving?  Anyway, I got up that morning and 2 of my room mates had already left for class.  My third room mate Megan, who I shared a bedroom with, had not quite roused herself from sleep yet so I shuffled in my pajamas to our living room and turned on the television.  I was immediately stunned and confused by what I saw in front of me.  The words the reporters were saying didn't register to me, all I remember seeing were people in New York running and it looked like they were covered in snow.  It seemed like an eternity before I realized what had happened, a plane had been flown into the World Trade Center.  I watched in awe, waiting for answers on what had happened.  Was this an accident?  Was this an intentional attack.  "Surely not, this is America after all."  I remember thinking that.  Clear as day.  Then I watched in horror as the second plane hit the second tower.  I heard Megan move in the next room and went to get her.  I told her what was happening to the best of my ability and had her come into the living room and watch the news reports with me if for nothing else but to confirm that I was actually seeing and hearing what I thought I was seeing and hearing.  For the next couple of hours I sat in front of the television somewhat in disbelief of what I was seeing.  I saw the report of a plane hitting the Pentagon.  I heard about Flight 93 in Pennsylvania.  I still kept thinking "This can't be happening.  This is America.  This can't be happening."  Eventually I embraced the fact that it was happening and my life was still happening and I had to go to class.  I dressed and walked to the bus stop where for the first time no one was talking to one another.  The bus ride from West Ashley to our downtown campus was silent.  When class started our teacher, Mrs. Hawkins, first asked us if there was anyone in the class who had family members in New York or Washington that they couldn't get in touch with.  She then told us that if we felt like we needed to go home we were welcomed to but she had a bit of advice before we made that decision.  She said that while these events were tragic and mind blowing, she thought that the best thing to do was to keep going on with our lives.  To help each other by keeping ourselves busy.  To not let these people, these wretched and frightening people who were responsible for these events, to have the power over our lives that they were trying to take.  We could do this best by going on with our lives and while not disregarding what happened or acting like it didn't happen but instead using it as a reason to go on, show our strength as Americans, show that they could not cripple us or disable us.  She was a wise woman.  So I stayed.   Class ended early that evening and I think I got home by 6:30.  My new boyfriend and I went downtown just to get out and walk, be where other people were, people who were sharing our fear and disbelief.  Something about staying at home that night seemed so stifling. That night a place that was usually alive and full of tourists on vacation was empty.  I remember most walking down King Street and for all the world it looked like it was 2:00 in the morning instead of 8:00 pm.  Shops were closed.  The sidewalks were nearly empty.  Signs were posted in doors alerting customers who weren't even there that the owners and staff were taking the time to be with their families and pray.  It was a strange world that evening.  One with so much uncertainty as to what was going to happen next.  Would there be more attacks?  Where was there 9 left to try and attack?  Would we go to war?  Who on Earth were we going to fight if we did go to war?  What happened?  Today I pulled out the journal I started the day I moved to South Carolina and had to flip only a couple of pages to find what I wrote that day.

"I'm scared to death.  There's been a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center & the Pentagon.  Both of the World Trade Center buildings have collapsed.  There's no telling how many people are dead and I haven't left the apartment to see how everyone around here is reacting.  But, I'm so scared.  I'm afraid that there's going to be a war.  I'm even more afraid that it's going to be on our soil.  Around us.  I really wish I didn't have to go to class.  I'm just so scared of what's going to happen."

9 years later, at the age of 27, I don't think I would react any differently than my 18 year old self did.  I still pray for our country.  I always will.  I will not ever forget.

"Time Does Not Change Us.

It just unfolds us." - Max Frisch

Below I offer you almost 3 years of my life.  When I moved into my house in 2005 I designated one room in my house as a "craft room".  I painted one of the walls with chalkboard paint with the idea of jotting down ideas and sketching out patterns.  Instead it became a place where my friends left their mark with chalk.

Every couple of years I erase it and start over but before I do I take pictures of each message and picture so that I don't lose the love and laughter that was left in my home just for me.  Here I will share with you 2 years worth of visitors.  Some of them will never step foot in my house again but, in retrospect, each one left a bigger mark on my life than they did on my wall.

These messages are from my awesome sisters in law.  They came to visit me before we were married, before I even had an engagement ring.  This is a testament to how wonderful his family is though.  They embraced and accepted me as part of their family from the first time we met.

This is from one of my sister's ex-boyfriends.  He came to my house one Christmas for dinner with the family and got wrangled into installing my wireless router.  I guess it took a while.

I had a party once.  I can't even remember for what.  But this is from a room mate of my other sister at the time.  Moe is awesome.

I think this is from the same party.  A friend brought his friend Dirk and at some point in the night we ordered a pizza.  The first number we dialed was incorrect and the person called back.  This is how Dirk answered the phone.

My awesome sister.

I'm not sure which child drew this awesome Christmas picture but it's a treasure.

Before my Hubby was even my boyfriend and before I ever met his friend Mike I started keeping score of things we knew. I got this point for knowing that "nabs" is a southern term that refers to snack sandwich crackers.  More specifically, cheddar crackers with peanut butter filling. This is still the score.

I think this is from my other sister, Tabitha.  If it's not and you lay claim to loving me, let me know so I can give you credit.

This is from one of my cousins.  Either Ian or Ryan.  I'm not sure which one.  I'm not sure if it's grammatically correct or if it's even all in the same language.  But what do I know?

Either Heather or Tabitha.  It's a heart full of siblings.  It makes my heart smile.

A bad series of dates.  However, that bad series of dates is partially what led me to realize that I was head over heels in love with the man that is now my husband.  So I appreciate that bad series of dates.

Tabitha went to Canada for an internship shortly after she wrote this on my wall.  She was gone a couple of months and then came home but there was never any chance of forgetting where she was while she was gone.

My adorable friend Kayla.  She's the daughter of a friend and co-worker of my parents.  My mom says that she's just like me when I was younger.  I hope Kayla takes that as a compliment.  I do.

My godson's mother marked his height at the time of their visit.  He's 4 now.  Amazing.

I think I drew this.  This is the extent of my artistic ability.

This is my most cherished message.  My Aunt Sherri left this one at my Mom's 51st birthday party.  She passed away the next April after fighting breast cancer like a champ.  I won't erase this one.  I can't.  I'm thinking of cutting out the piece of wall that it's on and framing it to take with me when I move.

So that's me.  Or, 3 years of me.  In those 3 years I went from being alone in my home and without a relationship to being married and a housewife.  It's been a heck of a ride.