Fa la la la la....it's holiday cards time again!

We’re now down to 50 days until Christmas. I can feel the stress seeping into my body as I’m typing that out. There is so much going on this year. Luckily, holiday cards aren’t one of those stresses. I’ve been in love with Shutterfly for years now and they never cease to amaze me. They always have great deals on pictures and their holiday cards rock. We usually try to take our own holiday pictures and this will be the second year we’ll get to take them with Derek and the first year we’ll take them as a family of four. Next year we’ll have to manhandle a toddler and a baby into looking at the camera. Now THAT stresses me. Here’s some of the holiday cards I’m looking into, let me know what you think.

You all know I had to have a penguin card option, come on now!!

Now go check out the options for yourself and tell me if you find others you like better and get some ideas for yourself. While there are 50 days until Christmas, if you’re a perfectionist (which I am not by any means so ya’ll shouldn’t expect your cards on time), you should have your Christmas cards out the day after Thanksgiving which means you really only have 22 days! Twenty-two!! AHHHHH. Now you can freak out and stress too.

Go look for yourself at the great cards they have to offer:

http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards

http://www.shutterfly.com/

And if you’re thinking of a cute Christmas idea, they do great picture calendars you should look into.

http://www.shutterfly.com/calendars

Now run get started, only 22 days!!

Awww...oOoOoOo...Ahhhh

Awwww! Our own little Charlie Brown. I can see how parents get exhausted trick or treating. There were 2 nights of it since some places like our neighborhood do Saturday night and some places like my parent's neighborhood do Sunday night. Wowza. Derek loved it all though and soaked up his share of people watching and suckers. Playing in a pumpkin this year, not so much. He hated that with unwavering passion and every part of his being. I might as well start saving up for that therapy session.

Gussy now has Christmas stockings. I was loving everything on her homemade holiday gift guide today and then I just keeled over after I saw her stockings!! If this is day one, I might not be able to make it through all three days!

{photo courtesy of www.maggiewhitley.com}


It's November 1st. There are 53 days til Christmas ya'll!! AHHHHHH!

{photo courtesy of Shanty2Chic}

The thoughts of the pregnant woman

Soon after discovering I was pregnant with Derek, I found Pregnant Chicken. This blog is hilarious, insightful, genius, and did I mention hilarious. I never leave a post without laughing.
This one took the cake. There are so many things that are said to pregnant women because for some unknown reason whenever someone sees a baby bump, all filters are automatically shut down. I never understood this. It's worse when someone sees a faux bump like this time.
Here's some insight into what that pregnant woman you're gawking at who's downing that pumpkin spice latte is thinking. Just a hint - stop staring and let me abuse my fetus if I choose and drink my allotted 250 mg of caffeine for the day.
You can find the whole post here.

"Thank you. I'm glowing because I just violently vomited in your bathroom."

People used to tell me that I was "glowing" when I was pregnant and I was too embarrassed to tell them it was due to my near-constant throwing up.  At work, in the car, at the house in a variety of locations, at the preschool, even one particularly memorable time at Five Guys.  By the end of my third pregnancy, my entire family could have cared less if I got up from the dinner table to hurl in the kitchen sink.  They'd be all: "Can you grab the salt shaker while you're in there?"

"I can see that you're wondering if I'm fat or pregnant.  Well, I'm not going to tell you because you did such a bad job hiding the confused look on your face, jackhole."

I have done it myself, asked someone if they're pregnant and it turns out they were not.  I felt like an ass hat but learned a valuable lesson.  The next lesson is don't stare intently at a woman's larger-than-normal belly with a confused look on your face because the thoughts running through your brain are fairly obvious.  In fact, it's pretty much the same thing as asking, "Are you knocked up again or what?"

"I am allowed to have 250 mg of caffeine per day.  If you give me one more dirty look for buying this latte, skinny whore in the black skirt, I will karate punch you in your damn neck."

People have to right to judge an obviously pregnant woman in public if she is doing three things: smoking a cigarette, drinking directly from the bottle of Jack Daniels or committing a violent act that could land her in jail.  Actually... Jail might provide her with some much needed peace and quiet, as well as break from her children and the mountain of laundry that needs folding - so really there are only two reasons to judge a pregnant woman.  If she is having a cup of coffee, could you not treat her like she's committing child abuse?  She is not and you need to mind your own beeswax, Judgey McJudgerson.

"I see you over there, trying to get next to me so you can put your hands on my enormous stomach.  If you touch my belly I will start screaming so loud that you will fall down and dogs from all over down will come running to your prone form.  And I will bray with laughter as they pee on you."

This is a pregnancy classic.  Random people trying to put their hands on you.  No no no.  If I see someone with a peculiarly bulbous forehead, would it be appropriate for me to walk over to them and cup my hand on their face?  It would not.  Would it be OK for me to pet the head of a stranger with particularly shiny hair? No, of course not.  You shouldn't even pet a dog without asking first.  Use your damn manners, people.

"Am I pregnant with twins?  No.  I'm so huge? Am I really? Is this you being nice?  Because I can be nice, too.  I hate your ass face."

Are you really so amazed by my pregnant belly that you have lost your mind completely? What would make you say this to someone?  Is that supposed to make them feel good?  It's much more a reflection of your insensitivity than the actual size of my mid-section.  If some poor woman looks like she just swallowed a watermelon, what is served by saying: "My heavens! You look like you swallowed a watermelon!" No no no. You say: "Please sit down.  May I get you a cool beverage and a Thai spring roll?"

"You know what, older-lady-at-the-grocery-store, I am not having this baby any minute now.  I am having this baby in 8 weeks.  OK?  You smell like Vicks Vapo-Rub and cats, and I want to move away from you before I throw up on your padded nylon ankle boots."

This was another one that drove me crazy.  By the time you're on pregnancy 2+, you look pregnant at about 15 minutes.  You can go ahead and put all your non-maternity pants into one of those big blue Rubbermaid bins or one of the vacuum sealed plastic hoo-haws until your baby is at least 4 months old.  Your boobs and your bump are out and proud and there's nothing you can do about it.  So when someone says something like that to you...  Just smile and try not to harm them.

"You know what? I'm growing a person.  If I want to eat this Big Mac and then eat another you will have nothing to say about it.  As a matter of fact, if you try and keep and keep me from my Big Mac and his step-brother, the refreshing and delicious fountain Coke, I will turn into the Incredible Hulk except with pregnancy hormones, and I will rip off the arms you used to steal my cheeseburger."

While pregnant, I had both food aversions and food cravings.  Mostly it was aversions - everything made me sick.  In fact, though I am not a small person, I did not gain more than 25 pounds during any of my three pregnancies.  Because pretty much everything edible smelled awful to me.  You know what didn't make me sick?  McDonalds.  I might only eat one thing each day that I could keep down and with my son Hawk - that was usually a Big Mac.  But people don't think you're awesome when you eat McDonalds every day instead of organic non-fat cruelty-free chicken wraps from the Whole Foods take-out counter.  But you know what?  You eat what you can eat.  And everyone else can go suck it.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say. To. Me?  That you can barely tell that I'm pregnant?  What the HELL does that even mean?"

I never understood this one.  Is this supposed to be a compliment? The pregnancy equivalent of saying "you look thin".  Are you saying I'm normally fat and bulgy in the middle? Or are you saying that I'm measuring small for my gestational age and there's some sort of heretofor unsuspected problem with my unborn child?  What are you - a doctor? The creepy neighbor lady from Rosemary's Baby? No? Then shut the hell up and if you want to do something useful, go get me a fountain coke or a large sweet tea.

"I could understand if you couldn't take your eyes off my belly, but the jugs you're staring at aren't even mine anymore.  They're like two ginormous, bloated, scalding hot water bottles that cause me constant back pain.  How's that for sexy?"

Just because they're bigger and they're meant to feed a baby, doesn't mean its OK for you to stare at them.  They came to life when I was about 8 weeks pregnant and now these new semi-sentient life forms are attached to my chest and driving me crazy.  Look at my eyes or look at the belly.  The demilitarized zone in between will get you popped in the mouth with my handbag.

Lot's salt shaker

I follow Ra's blog and while I rarely comment, (because I'm a slacker) I love her posts. We recently picked up some clothes from her and I can't wait until winter when Derek can wear them, especially the shoes!
She was inspired by this post by Angie Smith and after reading it, I don't know how anyone wouldn't be inspired. Go read the post, you won't regret it.

"I don't know what you are walking away from tonight, but as I have been praying about what to write the Lord has put this message on my heart so clearly that I had to share it. I want you to know I am praying for you as I write-asking the Lord to remind you tonight that there is a reason you have left that life behind.
It has been swallowed by grace, friend. And you need not miss what He has for you by believing there is something worth going back for. Leave it be. The Lord has told you where to go and it's time to walk. Eyes straight ahead, tangled in the spectacular love of a Savior Who wants nothing less for you than the summit. And as you stare at what might have been, you are immobilized, unable to bring Him the glory He deserves. And also, He might make you salt. Just saying."

I'm awful about this. I tend to look back at the past and think what could have been. What if we could have sold our house? What if Christopher would have loved his police job? What if we had more money? What if Derek didn't have his protein allergy? What if I didn't have a crazy boss? What if I worked closer to home? The list goes on and on. I have to stop.  We all do. We are where we are for a reason. We might not know that reason right now, but that doesn't change the fact that we are there. Love this moment, cherish it, wrap your arms around it and be thankful that you have it.

Being in this moment is a lot better than being a salt shaker.

I won a prize!!

Life has been pretty hectic lately, hence the lack of blogging.

A few weeks ago though, whenever Jess over at Taking It One Step at a Time was revamping her blog, she gave away a slew of prizes. For the first time ever, I won a prize from Tommee Tippee!! I was so ecstatic! There was some mix-up with the vendor and they even threw in some extra freebies. Score!

The initial drawing was for a set of Tommee Tippee Explora Weaning Bowls. In the end they sent me a set of the Weaning Bowls, a set of Truly Spill Proof Sippy Cups, and an Easi-mat. We love it all!
You can easily place the weaning bowls onto the easi-mat and it holds it in place. This is great for Derek as right now his favorite thing is to throw anything on the table onto the floor. The cups really are spill proof and have lived up to being thrown without a spill.

Thanks Jess!

Party in our crib

This past weekend was full of recuperation from the crazy sinus sickness that had taken over Derek and myself. Sunday was spent sleeping in, watching tv, napping, eating, oh and more sleeping. So of course when bedtime rolled around neither the mister or myself was the least bit tired. We decided to catch up on Big Brother and watch the Emmy's. BIG mistake. We went to sleep about 11 and when the alarm clock went off at 5, I knew for sure there had to be some error with Chris's phone. Wrong. Time to rise and shine. We make it through the day and decide it's going to be an early night. We're all in bed by 8:30 and ready to get some much needed sleep. Sounds blissful, right? Wrong. Again.
Derek decided it was the night to party in the crib. At ONE AM folks. Granted, by that time I'd probably slept almost as much as the night before by that point, but ya'll it didn't feel like it.
After stumbling into the kitchen and making his milk, I pick up child who is screaming like the boogie monster was giving him the stink eye, and attempt to feed him and rock him back to sleep. Attempt being the key word. He decided 4 sips into his milk that it was absolutely evil and started flailing around like a fish out of water. I put it away and rock him to sleep. I attempt to put him in his bed. Attempt fail. Again. As soon as I start putting him in his bed, he's screaming bloody murder again and wide awake. I pick him back up, rinse and repeat. Once he's asleep in my arms, I attempt to put him in his bed. Attempt fail. Round 3. Sensing the pattern? This time he's wide awake sitting in his crib just looking at me like I'm the nut job. He starts making his "hungry" face. Lovely. Since I'm wide awake at this point too I feed him some food and put him down to put it away. He starts playing like it's the normal thing to do at TWO AM.
This is when I win mother of the year. Since he is in heaven playing with his toys on the floor, I screw it and put them with him in his crib. All of a sudden silence. The angels start singing. Then I go to bed. Parenting fail for most everyone else. But for me in my sleep deprived state, it was the perfect solution. He's safe in his crib and happy as a clam. I can hear him on the monitor should the boogie man resurface.
Now I just count the minutes until early bedtime, yet again, and pray there isn't another party in our crib tonight.

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Cancer is a horrible diagnosis for anyone, much less an innocent child. There aren't many people that haven't in some way been effected by cancer. Unfortunately, most of us have been touched by this disease and my heart goes out to those still fighting.
Every day 46 children are diagnosed with cancer. Every single day. Here's something we can do to make it a little easier for children who are diagnosed. Gabe's Chemo Duck donates Chemo Ducks as a therapy tool to help them understand cancer treatment.
Reach out and sponsor a Chemo Duck. Cancer is scary and Chemo Duck can help make it a little easier.
Here's a little info from the website.

CHEMO DUCK STORY

Just after his first birthday, Gabe's mother, Lu Sipos, made the very first Chemo Duck for him. She thought he could use a companion to take to the hospital, one with whom he could share his journey back to health. Chemo Duck turned out to be a best friend and much, much more!

Together, Gabe and Chemo Duck learned all about living with cancer and explored what cancer treatment means to a small boy and his Duck pal. Gabe learned not to be afraid as he took loving care of his Chemo Duck and treated him for cancer of the beak. Gabe administered a series of aggressive beak brushings and several rounds of Play Dough Chemo to his sick playmate.

Together, Gabe and Chemo Duck learned all about living with cancer and explored what cancer treatment means to a small boy and his Duck pal. Gabe learned not to be afraid as he took loving care of his Chemo Duck and treated him for cancer of the beak. Gabe administered a series of aggressive beak brushings and several rounds of Play Dough Chemo to his sick playmate.