Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A Real Pain in the Neck (Part 1)

After a wonderful Christmas we decided it would be equally wonderful to go get messages from the little place down the street.  Relaxing music, dim lights, oils.  NO.  It is one big open room, nobody speaks English and the therapisist chit chat with one another the entire time.  But it is only $19 for 40 minutes and they do one hell of a job on your knots.

Ryan and Shannon got full body massages while I opted for a chair massage as I still have a hard time laying on my huge sore boobs stomach.  The first 30 minutes were pure bliss.  He was working on my shoulders and getting all the kinks out when suddenly I felt a bit sick.  I know that sometimes when you get massaged they release a lot of toxins so I figured that is what it was and tried to relax. 

Still feeling sick a few moments later, I asked the therapist to stop for a second and that is all I remember. 

Everything went black.

I woke up about a minute later to Ryan holding me up and rubbing my back, a terrified look in his eyes. 

Ryan: "Are you OK?  You passed out.  How do you feel."

Me: "Stop rubbing my back.  Um, I think I am OK. What happened?"

Ryan explained to me that he heard my therapist's voice call to his and it sounded urgent so he looked up and saw him holding me, my eyes rolled back in my head.  He jumped up and started talking to me just as Shannon realized what was going on and started yelling for 911 and a fucking phone. 

Me: "Did I pee?"

Ryan: "Yes."

Me: "Who the fuck pees their pants?"

We share a little laugh, get a towel and I sit down for a few minutes trying to stop my head from spinning and hold down the strawberry yogurt vomit.  Ryan calls the Doctor who laughs, yes LAUGHS, and explains that there is no way it could have hurt the baby and I would be fine in a few hours.

Apparently there is a nerve that runs down your neck and during pregnancy it is extra sensitive.  Stimulating this nerve can cause women to pass out, pee their pants and feel like a giant toddler carrying around a plastic bag full of pee pee pants.

None, not ONE of my books says anything about a peeing nerve thankyouverymuch! 

The rest of the day I was white as a ghost, nauseous and worried that I somehow hurt the baby.  I thought, "All I need is a good nights sleep and I will be fine Monday morning."

I thought wrong

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Merry Christmas

This is our Christmas card from last year.  I'm sure most of you have seen it but if not, enjoy and have yourself a Merry Little Christmas. 

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Ryan swears I staged this picture with a tall can but I assure you that he purchased, drank, and left that tall boy on the carpet all by himself

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

How it Happened

Well, you already know how it happened but if you were sick that day in school, I'll explain.  Ryan and I called the stork and told him we would be interested in a baby around June.  After checking his busy schedule, we do live in Salinas after all, he agreed to deliver around the 27th. 

Now that we've cleared that up, can I tell you how embarrassing it is to tell your family that you are knocked up.  Basically it was like, "Hey mom, we have lots of sex,"  "Guess what grandma, I totally wrecked my wife."  I know that is not what they hear, but I swear it feels like that is what is coming out.  After each person we told I was like oh great, now EVERYBODY is going to know we do it!

So now that you know, let me tell you just how complicated it was; not the sex, the finding out.  I'll try to be brief because let's be honest, it's not that exciting.  

I was late so I took a test...negative.  I figured I'd start soon and went about my business.  A few days later and still no sign of my period so I took another test...negative.  Now I'm a little annoyed but don't think much of it.  Days pass...more days pass and finally I call the doctor who tells me to come in for a blood test.  Okay, that will tell us for sure.  I go in, leave a vial of blood lighter and wait for the call.  Negative. 

By this time I am over 2 weeks late and starting to get worried that something might be wrong with me.  You know, convincing myself that I have cancer or am never going to have my period EVERY AGAIN; I like to think catastrophically. 

Another week goes by and now my doctor wants to give me a shot of progesterone, in my ass, which will bring on my very tardy period.  At first I was like um, okay but then an overwhelming feeling that I should NOT do it came over me in a wave. 

I froze up, stuttered and began explaining to the nurse how crazy I must sound and how she probably thinks that I am desperate or trying to get attention or...or...but...but, I just don't want the shot.  I want one more blood test.  She seems unaffected by my outburst and says she will order another blood test for the following day.

I go in, give another vial of blood, treat myself to an oatmeal apricot cookie (what? I was light headed from the blood draw) and head for home trying not to think about the possible baby or other deadly disease I might have. 

8:00AM on a Wednesday morning.  My phone rings.  It's my doctor, not the nurse. 

Dr.: "Well, it's a good thing you didn't get the shot because you are definitely pregnant."

Me: "Uhhhhhh.  Wow.  OK.  Ummmmm."

Dr: "Let me put you through to the front desk and you can book an appointment to come in and get checked."

Me: "......................." 
But in my head thinking, WHY CAN'T I JUST BE NORMAL?  Why was this SO hard?  Why do I have to be part of the .02% that can't just pee on a stick?

And because everyone seems to want to know...No, we were not trying to get pregnant it just so happened that the stork was in the right place at the right time. And we couldn't be happier.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Such a Hog

Our house is old and therefore not the most efficient when it comes to heating and cooling.  That coupled with the fact that I am not to keen on spending 250-300 dollars a month for PG&E means we have a little space heater to keep our toes warm on these cold winter nights.

Only problem...

Abner is a total heater hog.  He will shove his fat little body between you and the heater and literally soak up 90% of the heat for himself leaving you with a crappy 10% to warm freezing toes. 


Wednesday, December 15, 2010

About 20 Pounds Ago...

He was so tiny that I could hold him and not lose circulation in my arms.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Kitty goes for a swim

Admittedly, Ryan is not a cat person.  He doesn't care for their flippant attitude, mood swings, or dirty looks; why he married me then is a complete mystery, but I digress. 

A few months into our relationship I brought up the idea of getting a kitten.  It would have to live at his house because I couldn't have pets at my place, but I thought it would be a nice addition.  And because I hadn't ruined Lilly's life enough on my own. 

Over the next few weeks I searched obsessively every day on the kitty rescue website we did some research and found a kitty that seemed perfect.  She was rescued along with her siblings and was one of the last ones that still needed a home.   I visited her before agreeing to adopt her and when she crawled in my sweatshirt, up on my head and down my leg I knew she was the one. 

She and her attitude settled right in.

About a month later we made the brilliant decision to take a trip down to Santa Barbara with Lilly and the new kitten in tow.  4 and a half hours in the car with a kitten sleeping on your head, scratching your neck and trying to kill you by jumping under the break peddle sure seamed like fun; DAMN we are intelligent. 

Many memories and fun adventures were had on this now infamous trip. Some of which I plan to share in the future and one that I can't believe I haven't shared yet. 

Seriously guys, it is funny.

We are all in the living room watching TV when Ryan gets up to go to the bathroom.  I think noting of it, but Georgia follows him; of course, because he may be doing something fun like capturing live mice or getting her a feather.  All of a sudden I hear Ryan yell, "NOOOOO!" and call for me to come into the bathroom.  Assuming on the of live mice ran up his pant leg, I get up and round the corner to see him holding Georgia by the scruff of her neck, a disturbed look on his face.

Me: "What happened?"

Ryan: "She was sitting on the counter while I was peeing and she chased my pee into the toilet!"

Me: "She chased your pee?"

Ryan: "YES, jumped into my pee stream!  Fell into the toilet!  Here, take her"

Oh yes, just what I want to hold, a kitten covered in urine. 

It took Georgia a matter of moments and Ryan a few hours to recover from the situation, but it still get a kick out of the whole thing.  It was our first proof that she was the perfect fit for our family, another nut for the trail mix.  Her unwillingness to drink out of anything but the shower, excessive drooling while being pet and fondness for hiding around corners only to jump out to scare the dogs is just icing on the cake.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Clean Floors

Dirty Diapers...

That's right internet, get ready for way too much information and a whole lot of fun because this family of crazies, and my waistline are about to get bigger.

Thursday, December 9, 2010


Today I am blogging from my phone because our computer decided it was a good idea to contract yet another virus! That is 2 in the past 3 weeks if you wanted to keep track. I think this is a sign that we need to start backing up. You would think loosing everything not once, but twice in my life would be motivation enough but apparently it hasn't been.

I promise I have funny stories and exciting news coming so stay tuned. Hopefully to your computer, not your phone

Friday, December 3, 2010

Just a taste of what it is like to be married to me...

because if I gave you an entire spoonful you'd gag.

We all know that I am a bit odd, in a good way of course, but still, painfully odd.  And that I like things a certain way and things in a certain place.  We also have discussed how repetitive noises make me want to kill myself and that sometimes I say things before I consider weather or not they are nice.

That being said, picture it, Ryan's car on a Tuesday afternoon, pouring rain.  I had just been granted a gift from the hair frizz fairy, aka I got into the car just before the rain started, and we were on our way.  As we drove along, the rain started to get stronger and stronger until it was like someone pouring cups of water on the windshield.  Ryan of course has the windshield wipers on as fast as they will go so he doesn't drive into a ditch and the rain is so loud (a sound I actually quite enjoy) that I don't hear the wipers clicking and swishing.

Well, after a few miles the rain begins to lighten up and finally keeps pace at a nice mist, only Ryan doesn't turn down the wiper speed.  I give him a moment, thinking that the noise will bother him and he will turn it down, but he doesn't.  A few more minutes and I can't even concentrate on our conversation because all I hear are the wiper blades clicking and swishing over and over.

Soon I can feel myself giving him a dirty look, glaring at the little control on his steering wheel, willing him to turn it off and stop the CLICKING AND SWISHING but he doesn't respond.  He just carries on like nothing is wrong, like I'm not breaking out in a rash over the sound and the unnecessary wiping.

Finally I snap.  I can no longer hold it in.  I calmly look at him.

Me: "Doesn't it bother you to have your wipers on so fast when it is hardly raining?"

Him: "No, but it obviously bothers you or you wouldn't have said anything."

He turns them off and gives me a look like he going to gag from the spoonful of OCD I just shoved down his throat

Me: "Well you don't have to turn them off, I mean if you like it then you can keep them on."

Him: "Why would I keep them on now, knowing it bothers you?"

Me: "Because now I feel guilty and I want you to have them on to make myself feel better."

The stare continues

Me: "Well, I'm not surprised it doesn't bother you, you who can walk around after a shower with DRIPS OF WATER ON YOUR BACK, just rolling down your skin like nails on a chalkboard, you who can wear two different socks at the same time, you who is not bothered by your sleeves being smashed up in your sweatshirt!  Just thinking about these things makes my skin crawl."

And the stare continues

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Up in the air

Not sure how a I feel about the new blog design.  I was hoping for candy cane stripes or something more festive, but I suppose this will do for now.

I am sure how I feel about this...


Christmas card will not disappoint this year

Through a dogs eyes

Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy.
Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude;
It is not self-seeking, nor easily angered.
It keeps no record of wrongdoing.
It does not delight in evil,
But rejoices in the truth.
It always protects, trusts, hopes, and preserves.
There is nothing love cannot face;
There is no limit to its faith, hope, and endurance.
In a word, there are three things that last forever:
Faith, hope, and love;
But the greatest of them all is love.
-- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
I'm talking about the love you receive from animals, specifically dogs.  Yep, dogs.  
I happen to believe that the purest form of love comes from animals.  They love recklessly, intensely, without limit, and expect nothing in return. They never wonder what is in it for them, or try to play with your emotions.  They wear their hearts on their sleeves, no barriers to protect them, assuming that you will take care of their hearts.  

And most of us do, but I can't get out of my mind lately how many people mistreat dogs.  It literally makes me sick to my stomach to think of how many dogs there are suffering in the world tonight.  How many are left outside to freeze, no food or shelter.  How many dogs are beaten, used as bait, made to be viscous and then thrown away.  Treated worse than a piece of trash and yet STILL full of love.  Still wanting to make their people happy, only they don't know how.
And these people who beat down the very soul of these dogs.  Trying to make them something they are not, trying to make them mean. But there is no such thing as a mean dog, only mean people.
Whenever I hear about a dog being aggressive or mean all I can think of is that dog when it was just a pup.  Tiny and pure, looking into the eyes of a human they thought would take care of them and whom they had all the love it the world to give.  Then I see that same pup, all grown up, beaten and abused still looking into the eyes of that humans with love but never getting any in return.  
This is a commercial from our local SPCA and while I often disagree with how the SPCA deals with their money and their animals, I find this commercial to be extremely touching.  Can't watch it without crying to be honest, so please take a look, and this holiday season remember to give to those who can't make a list and send it off to Santa.  Consider donating to a rescue group or volunteering your time.  Not necessarily to the SPCA, they already have tons of money and tend to mismanage, but to whomever you feel could use it the most.   And please, lets try not to be so judgmental of certain dog breeds, ALL dogs go to heaven.

 Grab a tissue and watch this