I return...triumphant.

And yes, I still misspell my own name.

Well, to my loyal 0 followers, here we are. I last posted in March, and its now October. I'm vowing to myself to do this more often. For the kids' sake of course. Actually, it's in part because 1) I just love to write. I do. I like to just sit down and let the thoughts just pour out of my little head and 2) I'm hoping to pick up a book deal. Maybe a paid blog. Hell, I don't care. I'm just broke.

So we're 8 weeks into this Stay-at-home-mom-of-two-kids-in-suburbia thing, and I'm finally getting the swing of things. Before, when it was just Andy and I, I had my stupid self convinced that I was SuperMom. Pfft. That was nothing. It was difficult, sure. Now, though, I am the worlds greatest juggler. I want to just bow down and lay burnt offerings at the feet of these moms with multiples. My good Lord, what these women must go through. My boobs nearly explode on a daily basis. Let's not get into what I think my head is going to do from time to time, when both the boys tune up at the same time. For the most part, though, I'm Stepford all the way now. And I'm pretty cocky about it. I just don't have the look down yet. (Can't afford it.)

These kids...wow. Andy is fascinating. He's coming up with all kinds of new crap all the time thats just hilarious. For example, three teenagers are walking down the street in our neighborhood - two girls and a boy. The boy is talking Mr. Big Stuff, as teenage boys will, and using some colorful language. I'm not opposed to swear words, and use them myself when Andy's not around (or when he is if I stub my toe, burn myself, or if Chris is being especially hard-headed). One of the teenage girls turned to the boy and said "Don't talk like that! There's a baby over there, you don't want him to pick up your bad habits!" Andy turned around to look at me and said "Mommy? Dey talkin' about me? I not a baby."

I said, "I know you're not a baby, sweetie, but I bet they figured you were my baby, so that's why they said that." Andy sat for a minute and thought. He looked really deep in his thoughts. After a few seconds, when the kids were fifty yards or so away, he hollered, "HEY! I are NOT a baby! I are BIG BOY!"

That really happened. I couldn't make this crap up.

Charlie is equally adorable. He's just beautiful. I worried myself sick while I was pregnant that I wasn't going to be able to love him as much as Andy. I talked to anyone and everyone who would take the time to talk to me about it. That worry melted away soon after he was born. He is a whole different baby, though....but they're both mine and I couldn't love them any more. My heart just swells.

I've decided I want to take up jogging. Two things are stopping me. Well, three things if you want to get literal about it. 1) What to do with Andy and 2/3) my boobs. My boobs are the bane of my existance. I hate them. I'd love to have them removed, but they're currently nourishment for my youngun. Anyway, I've never ever found sportsbra that could contain them. I've had to double-case them just for the ELLIPTICAL. Hello? Elliptical? I fear that while duct tape would probably do the trick, I'm just not a masochist. Lactation experts reccomend against ace bandages. Anyone else? Anyone got some suggestions for Andy? He can't ride a bike yet, and is seemingly unable to pedal.

Product reccomendation - Alouette spreadable cheese. Oh my dear sweet heaven, that's probably one reason why I haven't lost much weight. Put it on some sociables and bliss! Seriously. Give it a try.

Do you ever just have completely random thoughts? For example, there's a City Council election going on here in Greensboro, and it has apparently getting pretty heated. There's this one billboard on the way to Andy's preschool, and the candidate looks for all the world like he's trying desperately to hold back a fart. The devilish teenager in me wanted to climb up on that billboard and paint a little french handlebar moustache on that guy, just to complete the picture.

Also from this morning's commute to and from preschool, I swear some cops are mind-readers. Because every damn time I get to a stoplight and have the PERFECT opportunity for a right turn on red, there's a 'No Turn On Red' sign and a cop sitting somewhere at the intersection looking at me like he can see right into my soul and get my driving history out of there. He knows what I'm thinking. And I have to sit there. And sit there. And sit there. Meanwhile nothing comes, and I could have turned two minutes ago. Ugh.

I read last night that PeeWee Herman is making his comeback. I am beyond stoked about this.

Last random thought - I despise Yo Gabba Gabba. I hate it. COMPLETELY hate it. Detest it. That DJ Lance guy makes me want to do horrible things with a machete. And pretty much without reason.

Until next time.... I'm off to stay a little off center and let everyone think I'm totally normal.

So last night, Chris, Andy and I are going out to dinner. On the way, Chris gets a call from his sister talking about wedding plans. According to Chris (who I have no reason to doubt), his sister has found us a location and food....and its my understanding that this is at no cost to us. I really wish there was a way to describe what my face looked like when he told me this - I'm sure it was quite comical. I had spent the whole day yesterday trying to look at locations...JUST locations....and the costs were astronomical. How does $7,093 sound? For 50 people? And THAT is with the 30% spring discount. Yeah. Go there.

I turned 29 on Thursday. Once again, the curse of my birthday followed me although I decided to just celebrate it in the open this year and not hide in a cave as I have previous years. I have amazing friends and an even more amazing man who was determined to make it pleasant. This year the drama was family-related....but my mom in all her wonderful-ness still did everything she could to make it a good birthday. I'm not crushed, I just hate that this crap is happening.

On the baby front.... this kid is gonna start showing herself (or himself, but I'm thinking herself is more appropriate) very, very soon. I've packed on weight, and thats not cool, but this morning when I was lying on my back, I saw that bulge. Here comes. Let the fun begin. *sigh*

I started school week before last, and I effing hate it. This was not the best idea. I have no idea what to do about it, though. I'll be job hunting as soon as we close on the house.

Speaking of house, we put a bid in on our house. It. is. AWESOME. I'm really keeping my fingers crossed!!!!!

Thats all I have right now, except for this mysterious bump just in front of my ear that itches and hurts. No clue what thats about.

Anywho... I'll be back again when I have nothing to say. ;)

Post 1. I doubt I will continue to number these.

So. Welcome to my life. I am currently 28. I do not feel the need to tell you that I will be 29 in two days. (dammit. Screwed that up, didn't I?) I am the mother to the absolute most beautiful and spectacular son of all time. Seriously. My kid is so awesome, he could peel your face with his speeding awesomeness. I am quasi-engaged to the most wonderful man ever. (The only quasi- in there is the engagement. We are planning to get married within the next 6 weeks. There is, however, as of yet, no bling. I don't really care about the bling, and would be happy with a plain gold band just saying I'm his...but thats unacceptable to him. Who am I to turn down sparkly stuff?) 

I'm also more-than-quasi-pregnant with said wonderful man's baby. This is something that I have been up and down emotionally about. Babies are wonderful, and I love them. My son is one of the top 3 greatest things that ever happened to me. (Chris the amazing quasi-fiancee and my illness being the other two things. But I will get to those later, possibly in another post.) But this baby was unexpected and popped up during the early part of my relationship. I also have very recently had surgery on my uterus. Like, last season. So, while I have assurances from my doctor I will be able to carry almost all of my 40 weeks before I have to have yet ANOTHER uterine surgery to give birth...I have concerns about being shoved into bed and given an extended time-out somewhere around the middle to the end of the summer. I'm seriously worried about this.

Also on my already crowded plate...we are in the process of attempting to buy a house. (come to think of it, I need to call the realtor today. Thanks for reminding me.) The house we want is a simply GORGEOUS house that apparently had some shiftless idiotic decorating-type people living in it. They completely trashed it on the way out - but no structural damage was done. So, we're going to have to clean up their mess and redecorate. I say redecorate because, well, you'd just have to SEE the paintjobs and tile work to understand. This isn't a want. This is a need. You could have seizures looking at this stuff, and the tilework will literally cut your feet if you walk on it barefoot.

Currently, Mr. Wonderful and I live an hour away from each other. Obviously, once the house is ours and we are enjoying wedded bliss (both of these have to happen first) - we will fix this long-distance problem. 

I also have a whopping case of pregnancy brain. Someone I called it "D.I.P.S." - Ditziness Induced by Pregnancy Syndrome. That is why this blog is entitled 'I misspell my own name.' When I was typing in the information to create this blog, I literally misspelled my name. Fun times. Yesterday, I was at the CVS parking lot to pick up my son. I needed to run inside to check on something. I was sitting and waiting, debating... (it had snowed) and decided to make my  run. D.I.P.S. kicked in, and I left the keys in the ignition. Cranked. Thank GOD nothing happened to my car.

Gotta go. Morning sickness has kicked in, and its time to do the Imagination Movers Brainstorming dance with/for Andy.