50 yard line

I should add that I'm officially halfway there- 20 weeks. College football season has also officially started. Color me a happy girl.

But seriously. 20 weeks left. Ack!

I'm gonna love you back to lovin' me again...

I AM … blessed.
I WANT… more time.
I HAVE… two pimples.
I KEEP… receipts.
I WISH I COULD… take a daily nap.
I HATE… waiting.
I FEAR… the unknown. And taxes.
I HEAR… voices telling me what I should and should not do.
I DON’T THINK… I'll ever be thin again.
I REGRET… regrets.
I LOVE… completely.
I AM NOT… perfect.
I DANCE… rarely. Unless a shoulder wiggle counts.
I SING… classic country in the shower.
I NEVER… watch the news, but listen to GMA on XM daily.
I RARELY… go a day without doing dishes.
I CRY WHEN I WATCH… pitiful animal movies.
I AM NOT ALWAYS… right. Don't tell him though. ;-)
I HATE THAT… that weight-gain part of pregnancy.
I’M CONFUSED ABOUT… how to calculate PPV.
I NEED… Tylenol for this headache.
I SHOULD… go pee.

*I stole this. You should too.*


Another 2.5"

Every man's desire, right?

That's the amount of rain we've gotten on the Ponderosa in the last 24 hours. If you could see me, you'd see me doing a happy dance. Not really, but I'm doing one in my head. I don't know what kind of total that makes for the last week or so, but I'd say we're over 6", which was much needed in my neck of the woods. My pond was low and my grass was crunchy- the woes of living in the country, right?

Speaking of my head, it's congested. Apparently, that's one of the many curses blessings of pregnancy. Aw who am I kidding? It's a curse and it's driving me batshit crazy. I know Afrin isn't recommended especially because it's addictive, but it's my only salvation for the one-side-of-my-nose-that-won't-let-me-breathe. About 60 seconds after using, the rain stops, the clouds part and the angels begin to sing. I really am trying to use it sparingly, and have only used it for a couple of days, but find me a saline nasal spray that will light my world on fire and I'll switch. My child doesn't have a PRAYER when it comes to allergies, so I prefer to think that I'm teaching him early.

Yes, I referred to "it" as a "him", but I won't know for sure until Monday, August 25 at approximatly 2:30pm. Let's all say a prayer for "open leg vibes" so we can see the weiner that I know is in there. Good Lord if it's a girl, You better help us all.

We are in the process of painting our bedroom Chocolate Chip. We're also convinced that the paint smells like an M&M. And by "we", I mean "him", because (and I quote) "I don't know how to paint". Fine, whatever. I need to schedule all household projects during pregnancy- this rocks. The room looks awesome- dark brown walls with eye popping white trim. I can't wait for a finished product to post a picture of. No before pictures, but I'd rather not remember it anyway. He's also going to turn the built-in "vanity" that looks like it should be in a 1950s hotel room into shelves and storage. My man is so handy. IFyouknowwhatImean.

For those of you dying to know, Shiner in the dog house is going very well. I only feel guilty about once a day, but he's taken to it like a pig in slop. Especially with all this rain, I'm so glad he's got a safe and dry place to rest his paws. He's such a good boy. Kit, on the other hand, (remember, she's the princess?) is slowly losing her marbles. Last night, I opened the door and told her to go potty. She looked at me and without hesitation, ran out of the room and down the hallway to her bed. She did this not once, but twice. It left us both scratching our heads... silly dog. He finally convinced her to go outside where she took yet another dinosaur shit after getting into two leftover sausage patties and a breakfast taquito. Yes, it was my fault for leaving it on her level. Yes, I was pissed at her, but I really couldn't justify it because she did exactly what I knew she would do. So now she's perfect and predictable. *eye roll*


Of mice and men... er, whatever.

Sunday morning, C got up early to go do an emergency work thing and by early, I mean 6:30am. I had a pounding headache thanks to my perma-stopped up sinuses, so I rolled over so they would drain to the other side and promptly went back to sleep. I got up about 10:00 and went to let the dogs out to potty. In our house, Kit (his dog) sleeps on a bed at the end of the hallway, outside our door. She's pretty and perfect, just like a Mexican sunrise and can't be too far from her daddy or she'll go into this pitiful, mournful cry. And it pisses me off, so her right outside the door is the best we could do (and I can still hear her snoring like a Mack truck). Anyway, Shiner has his kennel set up in this little office cubby between the living room and laundry room, with doors to each. It's a pass through of sorts, and his kennel is set up under the desk.

So, Sunday. I open the kennel, then open the back door and out they go. That's when I smelled it. The poo. My precious little angel of a dog had taken two dinosaur shits in his kennel and also puked twice in the corners. Nice. That's when I realized it was time for him to become an outside dog. Or maybe it was when I was scraping up the poo with a paper towel. Or when I almost threw up while flushing it. It might have been when I was hosing off the bottom of his kennel outside and his puke slid off in one piece into the grass. *barf*

When my love returned home around 11:30, I informed him of what he'd missed and what our task for the day would be. Operation dog house.

Let me tell a little backstory. (Forgive my rambling, because I get my storytelling skills from my mother who cannot tell a good story to save her life.) Just after we moved into the new house, C began a campaign to make Shiner an outside dog. He's a Boston Terrier for pete's sake- he's not made to be an outside dog! I cried. I blamed hormones. My heart broke into a thousand pieces each time he cocked his head to the side and looked at me through the door not understanding why he couldn't come in. And so, he stayed outside during the day but came inside to sleep once it got dark. You know, so the boogie man wouldn't get him. C relented, grumbling. His point is that he sheds something terrible and if we're going to bring a child into this world, it did NOT need the additional aggravation of Shiner-hair on it's sinuses and neither did we. I knew he was right, but my emotions were just too much.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. Those heartbreaking feelings were stifled by the smell of his shit and I no longer cared if he would be scared at night. He was going outside and I had no remorse. Poor little devil. So, he became the proud owner of a super cool, rain resistant "lounging space" that is cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter thanks to the "structural foam". All I know is that effer cost me $100 and he damn well better LOVE it.

That being said, guess where he slept last night? On a pile of moving blankets on the back porch, when he slept, that is. He was up and down barking at every. single. noise. til the sun started to come up. C claims he doesn't need a soft bed in there because it's the summer time and the plastic bottom feels good. Me? I think he's just like everyone else- who doesn't want a soft place to lay their head at night?

So, the saga continues. What do y'all think? Will he tough it out? Will he continue to look pitiful at the door waiting for Mom to save him? Will he turn into Snoopy and turn his dog house into a castle? Only time will tell, I guess.


Part 3 - Surprise!

My goodness, where does the time go? This has been month end close and it has been nuts, but seriously- I'm a slacker and I apologize to my 10s of readers. Here's a rundown of what's been going on.

  • I have a list of blog topics. Literally. It's on a little yellow sticky by my keyboard at work. Yes, I'm making this list from that list.
  • Sometime last week, I had a delightful dream about John Mayer. Don't ask me why, because I was happily sleeping next to my handsome fiance, but it was John Mayer just the same. And he was in love with me. I kept asking him why me because he didn't even know me, but he never would answer. He was flying me all over for shows and giving me the star treatment and I happily went along- but I just couldn't believe that he was in love with me. Dreams, ya know?
  • I'm currently digging a band called The Steeldrivers. They're a little bit country and a little bit bluegrass and a lot wonderful. Check 'em out.
  • I have on my list to bitch about the lack of rain, but thanks to Eduard Eduord Eduorad that tropical storm, we've gotten a few showers on our crunchy grass. It's no longer crunchy, but I wouldn't complain if it were to rain say, all weekend?
  • My nearest and dearest (save for my Cori and June) are gone to Idaho for Brauns and Ragweed and RRB. I should've gone, but let's face it. I've got other places to spend my money. I know they'll have a great time without me, though. Doesn't mean I'm not jealous, though.
  • This should probably be it's own post/rant, but let's face it- that may take another month. In case you don't know, I've moved back to east Texas. Land of two lane roads and speed traps. But, most highways are 70mph. And that's what I drive + 2-3 mph. I would like to issue a statement to other residents of the roads I travel of this speedlimit and the fact that WHEN YOU PULL OUT IN FRONT OF ME, PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM GOING 70MPH, NOT 40, YOU M'EFFING, BACKWOODS, NO DRIVING, lovely, lovely people. It pisses me off to no end that waiting five seconds for me to pass is too much to ask, so I should be happy to slam on my brakes or defensively weave around you, hopefully not into on coming traffic. I'm carrying precious cargo, you fool.
  • Speaking of, I'm pregnant. Surprise! (If you know my mother, please do not forward the link to my blog to your mom who will then read the whole thing and tell my mother about all of the un-lady like things I've said, mmmmk? Just tell your mom the news- no details about where you found out needed, ok?) I'm due in January and let this be the warning that baby talk will soon be invading this space. FINALLY.
  • Also please know that just because I'm pregnant does not mean that's why C & I bought a house and are getting married. Yes, it's the ultimate shotgun trifecta, but it was all going to happen eventually- we just got put on the fast track. We can't be happier- and, well, you should be too.
  • Sorry, SLM, for making you shit just now.


I have more to say, I promise.

And I fully intend to say it all. I even have a list of things I need to write about, including a little ditty about John Mayer and a good rant. But:

I am selling raffle tickets for a $100 gas card (from Walmart) which benefits the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. If you are interested in gambling, please email me (link on the side if you don't know it by heart). Tickets are $1 each or six for $5. I'll hold your tickets for you, or mail them to you. The drawing is August 27 at 2pm at my company's break room. Holla!