February 2010


Our neighbors went down to Miami for a mini-vacation, and since we watched THEIR kitties while they were gone, they brought Gus a new toy.
He LOVES it
Checkin it out

Hmmm

Josh prodding it so he’ll attack

REOR

AND consider the flamingo destroyed. Ouch

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I am tired. So tired. Exhausted may be the better word for my fragile state of mind today. Yesterday about did me in.

It started at work (of course!), and while it’s totally pointless to go into all of the mundane and exasperating details that made yesterday a total cluster fuck, I will say this: if anything has gone wrong in your life or job, please blame me. Because according to everyone else at my office, IT’S MY FAULT.

You failed your drug test? My bad! I should have warned you that smoking the J right before you teetee in a cup was a bad idea

Didn’t pass a background check? My fault! It totally slipped my mind to expunge your record

Forgot you had a conference call? I’ll take that one too! I forgot to be the personal secretary to ALL 700 EMPLOYEES

For the record, I have given my team a mascot: Sally the Scapegoat.

Also, our color is red, for all of the blood that pours out when you STAB US IN THE BACK. We’re going to wear our color every Friday….really ramp up the team building over here.

On the drive home I attempted to take some deep breaths to relax (difficult to do when you can’t breathe through your nose…ends up more like panting), and stir up some amazing mental images of giant glasses of wine and huge servings of homemade lasagna. Yum and yum. I get home, have said glass of wine and giant lasagna, and all begins to right itself in the world.

Then, I’m not really sure what happened.

One minute, Josh and I are watching Modern Family, and the next minute we’re in a deep conversation about the state of our finances (which is not exactly ideal), and then I’m crying hysterically and I can’t stop. What the hell?

The thing is, after we bought our house last year, we knew things were going to be tight for awhile, as I imagine is fairly common when you buy your first home. However, at the time we were both in sales jobs and blindly optimistic about what the economy would bring for us in the coming year. We both assumed that things would pick up in our field (we were both in the same), and that we would be making more money in a year’s time.

However. Things got a little sticky around July, when I reached a mental breaking point and up and quit my job. It wasn’t a decision we came to lightly, but in the end we decided that my mental health was more important than the income being provided. I got a new job that makes, surprisingly, a little more money for the amount of work I do, but it’s still not near what we thought I would be making.

Also, nothing in Josh’s world picked up AT ALL. In fact, thing have slowed down even more, which is almost unfathomable because they were moving like an effing slug before. All of this means that things are tight – really, really, REALLY tight. So, yeah. Great luck this year. Excuse me while I wipe up the sarcasm pooling at my feet.

Summary: terrible day at work + hormones + financial stress = uncontrollable tears.

At least my sinuses are so congested that the tears weren’t accompanied by the usual flood of snot. Yay?

Fortunately I have an UH-MAY-ZING husband, who knows just when to switch from the usually pessimistic spouse to the fabulously! optimistic! Spouse. He held my hand and rubbed my back and handed me tissue after tissue. Then he ran a bath and got me a brandy and a zanax (don’t worry, I have a prescription! NOT A DRUGGIE), and offered me the last large piece of deliciously cheesy lasagna. The man truly knows how to make his wife a happy camper – offer drugs, alcohol, and carbohydrates laced with copious amounts of cheese. Works like a charm every time!

Think anyone at work will mind if I have my magic trio for lunch today?

We’re both sick.  Like, feel like total and complete a-hole, sick.  And while we went to bed around 9:30 to try to sleep it off, it was unfortunately a very active night.  Our conversation went something like this:

Approx midnight

Josh: *cough cough cough*

GG:  You ok?

J: *cough* I think I’m dying *cough*

G: Why don’t you take some COUGH medicine?

J: Good call  *cough*  (gets up to take medicine)

2am

J: *cough cough COUGH*

G: What the hell honey?! Did you take medicine?

J: *cough* I think I’m dying

G: You’re not dying.

J: *COUGH*

G: Dude.  You need to go to the doctor

J: I’m not sick         *cough*

4am

J: *COUGH COUGH COUGH*

G:  I’m making you a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, because, you know, I like sleep.

J: Don’t be *cough* mean.  I’m *cough* probably dying.  Do you have any hydrocodone left?

G:  You mean the medicine I keep on hand for when I have kidney stones?  Arguably the worst pain on the PLANET?  THAT MEDICINE??

J: *cough*  yes

G:  Whatever.  It’s in the bathroom somewhere.  You can have one if you can find it.

J: *cough*

7am

G: You need to go to a clinic today.  Last night sucked.

J: What are you talking about?

And then my head exploded.

I heard this song the other day and fell instantly in love (other than the fact that at first I thought he was saying Hazel Sister…which by the way gave me some very random google search results)

Soul Sister by Train

In my opinion this is a dance crazily around your kitchen kind of song…rock it out!

My niece was born yesterday.  We went to bed last night with one more member of our family than we woke up with.  She is

the 2nd child to my brother and sister in law

the 4th grandbaby to my mother and father in law

the 2nd niece to Josh and I

It was a long road for my brother and sister in law.  My nephew came fairly easily – a few months of trying followed by a fairly easy pregnancy.  However, when they went to conceive baby number 2, there was a lot of heartache: mulitiple miscarraiges (not all in the first trimester), the discovery of a clotting disorder in my SIL, and a rough, injection filled pregnancy. 

Lots of bed rest and tip-toeing around to ensure that this baby stayed right where she belonged. 

Even the prep for delivery was monitored very carefully.  My SIL spent the night before in the hospital being watched like a hawk.  Contractions lasted every 1-3 minutes all night long, but labor just didn’t progress. 

Around 1pm I got the text that she probably wouldn’t come until after 5, so we started chatting back and forth about moving around dinner plans, longer hospital stays…blah blah blah.  Then 40 min later, I got a “getting ready to push!” message…apparently my lovely niece was OVER the birth canal and ready to make her entrance.

And enter she did not long after. 

She’s beautiful…a perfect, tiny miracle.  Little chubbly cheeks and big sparkly eyes.  And she smells SO FREAKING GOOD.  Nothing on this entire planet beats the smell of a brand new baby.

Welcome to the world, Caroline Grace.  We are so happy you’re finally here.

I”m sitting here on the comfy couch in my living room, snuggled up next to my husband under a gold Pier 1 blanket, watching Man vs. Wild.  You know, NOT gagging.

And I’m watching Bear in the desert explaining how to survive the in Sahara when it’s 10million degrees outside, which is very cool, and I’m sure it will be useful if I’m ever dropped from a plane into the middle of Africa with no tools.

Then he comes across a dead camel.  Understandably, he checks it to see if it’s still any good to eat.  It’s not.  He then cuts it down it’s gut and starts poking around on the inside.  Now, I would like to say that I GET that it’s really, really hot, and that there’s no shelter for miles around.  However.  The man CRAWLS INSIDE THE CAMEL.  The very DEAD camel.  The one that is too rancid and rotten to eat.  He crawls inside and pulls the rotting flesh over him like it’s his own little rank camel wigwam, and is all THIS WILL PROTECT ME FROM THE SUN.

But what will protect you from the ROTTING CAMEL?!?

Now?  Now I am gagging.

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