I wanted to switch all my blogs over to our blogspot but gave up b/c it is just too complicated (pronounced "contlikated" as per Rodney J.) so I am posting the "Best of..." Blogs on our blogspot.
I don't apologize for my sometimes contrary (okay...always contrary. some days are just worse than others). I guess we can blame the blogs in general for giving people like me a place to put my two, sometimes three, cents.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Buddie, Stop Licking My Butt...
I was abruptly awoken last night to my little Buddie, who was licking my butt.
I was dead asleep when I feel Buddie licking my butt. What the heck?? I fling the little bugger across the bed, lift up the sheets, only to realize that he threw up and was in the process of un-throwing up (if you catch my drift). He always sleeps curled up behind my knees and it would seem that he vomited on me. At least he was being considerate and trying to lick his vomit off my butt.
Thank you, Buddie, for taking care of me for once and licking my butt!!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
What I Wish Everyone Knew...
1. Yes, I am pregnant and am gaining enough weight.
2. Yes, I still run 5-10 miles at a time. My doctor says it is perfectly okay and that I can do it as long as I would like to or as long as I can.
3. Yes, I teach my three cycling classes and boot camp every week. Most importantly, I plan on teaching until I push this kid out (again, my doctor also says that it's okay...in fact, she urges me to continue for as long as possible. Exercise is HEALTHY)
4. No, we don't have a name picked out. If you ask me, I will more than likely lie to your face and make up a name like Dillinger on the spot. If I have told you a name, more than likely, it was a lie. I have my reasons.
5. Yes, for the love, I am going to breastfeed. I am a microbiologist with an emphasis in immunology. I know that it is best for the kid.
6. January 19, 2008
7. Boy
8. No, I am not sleeping well (hence the attitude) and don't tell me to get used to it. We thought through the having a baby thing very seriously and are fully aware of the sacrifices. But, if you were wondering, I am used to it. I haven't slept in months. Just ask poor Brian.
To all my MYSPACE friends, love ya all, these answers are mostly directed to the morons that think they can actually ask me these things. MYSPACE just provides me with the space to vent about it. Therefore, the people to whom I am addressing these answers are not my friends period, let alone on MYSPACE.
But, if you think of any other questions to ask me, post me a comment and I will get back to you.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Elevators
Current mood: irritated
I don't know why elevator etiquette is so elusive to folks these days. Perhaps it can be blamed on ignorance, but I blame it on what I call "I-AM-THE-ONLY-PERSON-ON-THE-PLANET-ITIS". Seriously, it is a grave disease and I would say that about 90% of people know someone that suffers from it (because, of course, YOU don't suffer from it. Guess what! Neither do I...Hehehehe).
I am 35 weeks pregnant. Now, don't get me wrong.... I do not think the world revolves around me in any way, shape or form because I CHOSE to have a baby. It was not an "accident" (my personal favorite, as though we don't know what keeps us "un-pregnant") and I have not used my "condition" as an excuse to eat massive amounts of food or sit on my "A" for the past 35 weeks. In fact, I have only gained 17 pounds (my doctors, yes, plural) are not concerned about my 17 lbs gain and I have been running and teaching spinning classes just about every day of the week. I ran about 8 miles a few weeks ago on an icy trail here in CO.
That being said, back to my elevator iss. Today I jump on the elevator and by jump I mean wait on the first floor of the hospital for about 10 minutes while all around me people actually jump onto the UP elevator that I have been so patiently waiting for. I am not an angry person, especially when some of those people are old and in wheelchairs. Come on, wheelchairs suck and I would rather wait 10 years for an elevator than make somebody in a wheelchair wait for the blamin' elevator. (How hypocritical is it that I parked in Handicap Parking?? I am only kidding. I parked way far away and walked to the hospital. Again, no excuses for fat pregnant women. Move that big booty, lady).
Anyways, in my somewhat naive mind it was my turn and I finally catch the elevator to the third floor. I was the last one in and pressed the number 3. The elevator that is packed with fatties (and I do include myself in that) and comes to the third floor. I am obviously pregnant and the only reason people go to the third floor is to have their mammaries or woman parts looked at b/c it is the OB floor. Point being, you do not have to be a rocket surgeon to figure out that the pregnant girl is getting off on the third floor. This gargantuan women behind me shuffles her way to the front of the elevator before I could say "What the Bacon and Fries??" and about knocks me over on her humongous way out the door of the elevator (I left out the of on purpose. It is much funnier if you read it like OUT-THE-DO"). She turns back to look at me like I have tried to swipe her bacon and fries outta her meaty hands and I give her my most practiced devil grin. Really, it is the only time that I have not immediately felt a little guilty and snotty giving someone that smile. I was so irked because she saw me waddle my way onto the elevator and press the number 3. How dare the person scrunched up in the front of the elevator have the audacity to expect to be the first on off?? I know, I know, the race to the turkey fryer is an all day race and the secret is that you never know where the grease will be kept. Sometimes they keep it on the third floor of University Hospital and you MUST be the first one there to claim your greasy prize, dammed everyone else!
The other thing that absolutely mystifies me about University Hospital Outpatient Pavilion Elevator is the bewildered look on the faces of the folks as you get off the elevator onto the first floor. They are probably looking at my bewildered face, wondering why I am looking so bewildered. I WILL TELL YOU!!! You gotta GET OUTTA DA WAY!! My grandma always taught me that when waiting for an elevator and you hear the ding, you gotta wait for the elevator doors to open. And when those elevator doors open, sometimes, yes, just sometimes, there are people that are on the elevator and want to get off. I know, truly incredible! My grandma taught me to get outta da way and let the people off so that I could get on.
But no, these KoolAid drinkers at UCH think that they are the only people on the planet that have appointments and need the elevator. This one moronic girl (why aren't you people at work?) just looked at me like I had stepped off of some UFO and instead of moving out of the way, her big bug eyes just stared me down, like she was challenging me to walk through her. Oh, believe me, if I was suffering from "I-AM-THE-ONLY-PERSON-ON-THE-PLANET-ITIS" I would have shown off my Brimhall elbow hooks and walked right through her.
But then I got of the elevator and thought...I should have taken the stairs. Lessons learned, kiddos, lessons learned.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Konrad the Sharter
Current mood: contrary, as usual
Konrad likes to shart, to say the least. Babies are not very good at much, but our boy is the best Sharter I have ever met.
If you don't know what a shart is, here you go:
DEFINITION: Shart: A small, defecation that occurs when one relaxes the sphincter to fart (blend of "sh*t" and "fart").
He only sharts. There is no silent pooping for Konrad. The best thing about it is that he usually sharts before he wants to eat, so during the night I get awaken by the shart alarm. No need to wait for him to wake me up crying, I get waken up by the shart bomb. And the velocity behind his shart could be the topic of my next blog.
Tune in next week...
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Elbow Deep in DooDoo or Stewing in Poo
I actually like the title of this blog post more than I have anything really to say.
That being said, I feel really bad for poor Rad who has to sit in his own poo (hence, Stew in Poo) until I realize that he has pooed and needs to be changed. Actually, Buddy is the one that becomes unusually interested in Rad's behind, which alerts me to the fact that he has had a mess down there.
I don't know who came up with the idea of diapers, but more than likely it was out of necessity rather than efficiency. I mean, Rad stews in his poo all night (if I don't hear him shart-- see my last blog entry) and in the morning the poor little guy smells like he has been roasting in a crock pot full of doodoo. I guess diapers are a decent alternative because they can't come out potty-trained, right? Maybe they can... EVOLUTION, baby. You would think that that would be one of the most important survival skills in the wild. Animals oftentimes track their prey by their scent. You would think that we would evolve so that our littlest specimens (babies) that have no way to protect themselves, would evolve so that they could not be easily tracked by predators in the wild, right? Well, when I am in charge of evolution and creating worlds and such, that is the first "mistake" I am going to fix.
Okay, that is the "Best of..." of my blog from Myspace. Please tune in often to check out what is irking me at some later date. One promise I can make is that there WILL be something irking me.
XOXO
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