tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-119418322024-03-13T07:47:16.086-07:00Cloudy SkyLife with a toddler...I'm a little closer to crazy.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-51241694844978731172008-06-06T07:28:00.000-07:002008-06-06T07:42:45.443-07:00WorryYou know I was just thinking about how much we all worry. About how we're going to pay our bills or buy groceries. Well, so far we're fortunate enough that we don't really have to worry per se, only plan and budget. But anyway I was thinking about as my child, what if Wyatt began to worry. Once he can talk that is. And as his parent I would comfort him and tell him not to worry that I'd take care of all those things. And what if he began to hide food because he thought he needed to worry about his next meal?<br />Where the heck am I going with this you ask?<br />Well my thinking is that God said he'd provide all our needs. That we need not worry about the clothes on our backs or our next meal. That he'd handle all that. So why should I worry? I should just pray and seek Him and rely on Him for all my needs.<br /><br />Funny how things just pop into my head. Being a parent can really put things into perspective. Especially when considering the love of my heavenly Father.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-6732363637358175792008-05-19T12:09:00.000-07:002008-05-19T12:16:12.870-07:00Hey Grover, Count This PennyWyatt has a video where this little kid has a penny and holds it out to Grover and tells him to count it. Too cute. But it's becoming my financial situation lately. Damn gas prices. All those fat cats on capital hill should really be ashamed.<br />By the way...did you know that it is my opinion that Grover is the Sesame Street character that is on crack. He's insane. <br />We are currently waiting on the "stimulus" check for some monetary relief. A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">swing set</span>, a little cabin vacation, and a few other things. Oh yeah, and getting the checking account balance back up over $20 is something we' re looking forward to.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-14133026089916109732008-05-09T05:49:00.000-07:002008-05-09T06:03:52.972-07:00The Circus...Funerals are boring. Well, unless you bring Wyatt with you. He started his jabbering as soon as everything got really quiet. Then he started pitching a mega fit to be let down. My cousin Mandi took him out of the chapel. I love Mandi, she is so cool. And unique. <br /><br />Mandi's idea of dressing nicely for a funeral is wearing her extra baggy jeans without the holes in them. Her idea of feminine is an XXL "pink" polo shirt. She is a big girl but her clothes make her look even bigger. Never a bit of make-up. Hair always combed back in a ponytail. There have been rumors that she is gay. But she never talks about it one way or the other. Whatever. I heart cousin Mandi.<br /><br />It was my great-grandmother that passed away. Natural causes at the ripe old age of 98. She was a sassy one. I wasn't really close to her. But it's still sad when people die. I think hospice helps speed up the grand <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">finale</span> with morphine. But anyway..."<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mommie</span>" is what the family called her. She was a petite little woman with decent looks. But her kids?! Damn!! You've never seen such a genetic pile of steaming crap! Those are some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">uuuugly</span> mugs. Craggy skin, overweight, coarse hair on those who have it. And throw in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">occasional</span> retard. I kid you not. Thank God my dad married my mom who has fabulous genes and passed them all to me. I have no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">resemblance</span> to that group of goblins. If I stand next to my dad, who is quite <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">handsome</span>, you can tell we are related. But that is the extent of it. My dad got some decent genes out it. But his aunts and uncles....the stuff of seriously unfortunate breeding. The women have craggy skin and masculine features. The men, no description will describe them accurately.<br /><br />I'm wonderfully glad that circus is over.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-54325791160225234982008-05-05T05:48:00.000-07:002008-05-05T06:02:39.692-07:00I Got Skills, Ya'llDon't be intimidated. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Somebody's</span> got set the bar.<br />Some stuff I did this weekend: <br /><br />1. Played <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wiffle</span> ball and hit the ball TWICE. This is an accomplishment for someone so grossly uncoordinated. I can't play softball worth a crap because I can't hit the ball hard enough to get it past the pitcher. But I can hit a MEAN <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wiffle</span> ball, though! Go me.<br /><br />2. Looked at a bird feeder hanging from my friends porch and said something about how messy those little birdies are and then walked right into the damn thing. Got birdseed in my hair. Not so cool.<br /><br />3. Set out loads of stuff on Saturday morning with my hubby, Ax, for a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">yard sale</span>. Hoping those black moisture soaked clouds would pass us by. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ummm</span>...no such luck. We were set up for about all of 10 minutes and then had to start doing marathons from the front of the house to the car port around back to get everything out of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">the torrential</span> rain. Yep, we're geniuses.<br /><br />4. Had the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">yard sale</span> Sunday and did fairly decently. I'm so cool that I was able to sell a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">burnt</span> up spatula amongst a box of crap that my mother-in-law brought <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">for $0.10!!</span><br /><br />5. Worked at the church nursery Sunday morning and diffused a meltdown situation with a 3 year old. Woo hoo. What else is there to do in life? Well, a lot I think.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-69560088423411654262008-05-01T12:44:00.000-07:002008-05-03T09:45:06.062-07:00The comment I would never leave...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Moneysavingmom</span>.com did a post on April 28<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> that I'm still trying to put into a complete perspective. It was all about how much happier she is staying home more and all the comments <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">agreed</span>. I was too polite to leave my comment:<br /><br />I HATE staying at home all the time. I want somewhere to go EVERY DAY. I despise having an open ended day of screaming "NO!" and "Come on sweetie, lets change your diaper". Loads of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">laundry</span>, loads of dishes, and scattered toys DO NOT give me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">fulfillment</span>. How in the hell does your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">friggin</span> cross-stitch or whatever that heck that is you showed a picture of do that for you?!! I am not crafty, I don't sew, I can't draw, sing, or stitch. I don't have the patience for it. I think you people are freaks for being happy inside that one structure all day long. I want a nanny to watch my kid and a place free of snot noses to spend my day. Now, with all that out in the open, you wanna babysit for me so I can run around and be happy while you stay at home with the kiddies? Yes, I'll be happy to pay you.<br /><br />Wow, I feel relieved after getting that out. It's just honesty. Pure and simple. But if I'd have typed that on her site those women would have made me out to be evil. And I'm not. Never mind these devil horns protruding from my forehead. They're misleading. I promise.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-32100111805900907602008-04-29T18:32:00.000-07:002008-04-29T18:50:42.667-07:00I gotta start writing again...I have so many posts in my head. Things I think that must be put out there for the world. While typing is more difficult these days with a 19 month old twisting my chair to make me pick him up, it must be done. Thanks to all who left comments on that post so long ago. It's encouraging to know I'm not "really" alone. I'm coping better these days. Well, some days anyhow. I'm still staying home with Wyatt and babysitting little Ashley a couple of days a week...who will be turning one year old in May. I have lots to say and will work on being more disciplined with the timing of my posts.<br />Writing has always been wonderfully theraputic for me. I neeeeed it. This outlet may be the only one that is interested in my sarcastic, crazy opinions on so many things. <br /><br />Ya know, this stay at home mom thing is somewhat of a culture of it's own. The things people say. The blogs I've come across. Have I been unknowingly inducted into the "Mom Cult"? If so, you're gonna be kicking me out soon after you read some of the smart ass things I've got to say. I'm soooo glad none of my daily "aqaintances" know about this blog. No one. I can be free.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-62610326794681660742007-06-01T09:31:00.000-07:002007-06-01T09:49:32.512-07:00Here at homeHere I am at home with Wyatt. He's 9 months old now. I'm enjoying the freedom of being a stay at home mom. However I feel a bit stifled. While my days are unscheduled except for feedings and naps there are drawbacks. I really don't have any right to dwell on them. I know I'm fortunate to be here feeling this way instead of chained to a desk in an office for eight hours. It's just that I need a medium of expression and this is it. There is no person to whom I can truly communicate with on this topic. So here I am again. Back to my old friend, my blog. I need something more in my life to feel productive and satisfied. I spend so much of my day alone, with no outside contact. Wyatt isn't much of a conversationalist. Ax works then goes to the gym a couple of nights a week. He takes his lunch to work most days but sometimes goes out with friends from work. I am here. For endless hours. I am here. I go out when we need something from a store. Once every couple of weeks I go out to lunch with my mother. In the evenings I cook dinner, do the dishes, feed the baby, take care of the baby, make Ax's lunch for the next day. I get so little time with Ax. He doesn't realize how adversely this is affecting me. The weekends are a little better but then Ax is amusing himself with video games or TV and I'm left cooking and cleaning again. The more I ponder these things the more I see that I'm glad that I am able to stay at home with Wyatt otherwise I'd feel overwhelmed with the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">responsibility</span> of working and then having a household to take care of and next to no time for quality time. I am certainly thankful for my blessings. It just seems that something is lacking. And despite whether or not I could identify what's missing I would have no means to be able to fill the gap.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1159980012880274532006-10-04T09:25:00.000-07:002006-10-04T09:40:19.833-07:003 Weeks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2076/989/1600/bouncin%27%20small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2076/989/320/bouncin%27%20small.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This is sweet baby Wyatt. He is a handfull to put it mildly. "The Boss" is what I call him sometimes. He is about 1 week old in this pic. He's now 3 weeks old and teaching me a lot about babies.<br />He has the chubbiest cheeks ever. They are wonderful for kissing. If you touch his lips while he's sleeping he puckers up in the cutest way. He loves the sunlight and will stare at the window.<br /><br /> Wyatt was born with club feet. But so was Carl Lewis (the fastest man alive), Troy Aikman (football player) and many other famous people. Wyatt's feet are being corrected with casts up to his thighs every two weeks. His first casting was Sept 28th and was the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with in my life. The doctor said it wouldn't hurt him any but I disagree. His little feet were formed a particular way for 9 months and then suddenly stretched out and over corrected then casted. Ummm, yeah, it hurt him. I know it did. It broke my heart for him to have to endure the casting. But I'm thankful that after 4 castings and special shoes he'll be completely corrected. It's called the Ponsetti method. One obstacle we've been warned about is stares from people. Castings are associated with breaks. These obviously have nothing to do with a break but the public doesn't know that. I know we'll find a way to manage. Baby Wyatt is wonderful. I'm soaking up every minute of him.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1158686789593251792006-09-19T10:08:00.000-07:002006-09-26T07:13:23.870-07:00Baby WyattWyatt was born on Tues, Sept 12 at 5:46 p.m. My labor was induced due to high blood pressure. I was sent to the hospital on Monday at 1 o'clock. The pitocin was started but had only brought on dialation to 2 or 3 cms after 4 or 5 hours. The next step at around 7 p.m. was to stop the pitocin and at 9 p.m. insert a cervical ripener. The next morning my water broke on it's own. At 9 a.m. the pitocin was restarted. I was ready to start pushing at around 3 p.m. Wyatt was born at 5:46 p.m. What a beautiful miracle he is!!! He was 8 lbs 5 oz and 20 inches long. He has a head full of black hair. Just like me when I was born! When I was born my doctor called me a hippie baby...that's exactly what Wyatt looks like! Other than that he is the absolute spitting image of his daddy. I tell Ax that Wyatt is his "mini me". And since I haven't been able to stay away from bottles of hair dye for several years, the black hair really makes him look like Ax. It's adorable!<br /><br />It's true what they say about the sleep thing. Man, it can be rough. But I am coping. Especially with the nursing business. Makes me feel reeeeeeaaaalllly tied down. And up until today I've had some serious hormonal craziness. Happy as a clam one minute and crying over nothing the next. At first I was really worried about what Wyatt was eating. Friday we took him for his first pediatrician's visit. He lost a pound. Yikes. With breast feeding you obviously can't see what's going in and he went a day with no dirty diapers. I was freaked out. Well it turned out to be unnecessary to worry. He was waiting until the middle of the night to load up one right after the other! But that's okay. I'll take it. So long as he's healthy, what the heck does anything else matter?! Thank God that Wyatt is healty. Except for his little feet. And they aren't that bad. They are turned in just a little. We'll be visiting the bone specialist this Thursday. Everyone at the hospital and his pediatrician all reassure us that it's completely correctable. It's just scary. Very scary. The doctor said it's just all due to the way he was situatated inside my belly. I wish with all my heart that he'd have stretched out and stuck them directly into my rib cage if it would've avoided his feet being turned in. But I know it will be okay. It has to be. Special little boots or casts have been mentioned. That's fine. So long as no one says surgery. I would flip out entirely.<br />He is so sweet and beautiful. I am in love.<br /><br />Obviously I will be a little more busy than usual from here on out so the posts may be sporatic or non exisitant for a while. I'm sure you all understand.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1157475853465945442006-09-05T10:03:00.000-07:002006-09-05T10:04:13.466-07:00The Next StepI went to the doctor today. I am 38 weeks and she said that I am dilated 1 cm and am probably starting labor. Obviously some women remain dilated 1 or 2 cm for weeks, but I really really hope I'm not one of them. My back has been hurting, my feet and fingers swelling, and I'm soooo ready for the next step! I DO NOT want to be induced unless there is some serious medical reason for it, but I'm ready to meet this little guy.<br />I am officially off work as of today. YIKES. I know I'll be busy when he gets here, but what about the meantime? It's frightening to have a solid schedule at one workplace for 7 years and then suddenly everything changes. Adjustments are a bit unsettling. What if I don't have him for another month? Obviously it's a possibility. I'm really hoping it doesn't go that way. I've heard that next week is a full moon. Lots of babies are born closer to full moons. Please, PLEASE!!!<br /><br />Say a prayer for me!Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1156783866982611322006-08-28T09:39:00.000-07:002006-08-28T09:51:07.006-07:00HostilityI have worked my entire life. If not at being good in school, then at an actual workplace. I've been here at my current job for almost 7 years. I feel an attachment to the place. I've loved my job, my boss, everything about it. However it seems my affection is one sided. This place has seemed more that a little hostile towards me in regard to policy throughout this. It's made me feel like I'm asking for special treatment and doing something I shouldn't. I realize that I may be a bit over emotional these days so it is hard for me to separate what may be hormones from what may be an actual wrong committed. Regardless of it being hormones or not I can't help but feel pretty rotten. I have annual leave built up that should allow me leave early throughout the week. If I leave at 1 o'clock every day I have enough leave to compensate for the unworked 15 hours per week to equal the pay for 40 hours. However my supervisor told me today that he needed to check to see if such arrangements were allowed. It would be considered abuse of some sort were it not for my very obvious condition.<br />My desire is to continue to work half days for as long as I can. However the feedback that I'm receiving from this place is contrary to my own needs. I enjoy having a place to come to each day, to help fill the time, to feel productive. I know that I am helpful here. It's just really difficult to feel so shamed by the administration. I would have never thought in a million years that I'd be feeling this way here. It's like a bad dream. A heartbreaking bad dream. I have always felt that this place made me feel secure and that the people I worked with and administration felt a mutual appreciation for not only the way I do my job but also the person I am. It seems I have been sadly wrong.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1156347226011781652006-08-23T07:48:00.000-07:002006-08-23T08:33:46.106-07:00On Work and VicesI have come to appreciate work more. It's such a good thing that I don't have to sit at home all day. It would drive me insane. What do people do all day who stay at home?? Honestly. I don't mean to sound sarcastic or hateful, just sincerely inquisitive. All there is to do is flip TV channels or maybe read a book. A load of laundry? Wow, all that exciting stuff. I know that when Wyatt gets here I'll have plenty to do. It's just between now and then that I may have to deal with.<br /><br /><br />Vices...<br />We all have our hang ups. Those pleasures that we can't deny ourselves. The things that we know we should set aside but for lack of self control, we allow them to take us over. I've just been discussing with my co-worker, Johnnie, about her mother. (I love Johnnie's name by the way, she is fabulous.) Johnnie's mom has emphysema and can't stop smoking. It made me think of my own mother. She is over weight and has battled it her whole life. She just can't seem to get the weight off and keep it off. My mother is beautiful. Taking off the weight with her would be much more for health reasons than for vanity. She certainly has no self esteem issues. It's just that I know that women her size don't generally live into their 80's. But I want my mom to. I can't imagine a day without her.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1155761853848480522006-08-16T13:10:00.000-07:002006-08-16T13:57:33.866-07:00One For The Books...Oh my goodness. This one is such a mind blower that I've got to remove my carpal tunnel brace to type it out. Yep, it's a whopper. I need to have full use of the hands and digits to get it spelled out. Spelled out for the astonishment of the blog world.<br />This is one for the books. I don't know which set of books. It would certainly be a book about the dumbest things that people do.<br />Here at the clerk's office there is a kid who was convicted of Possession of Marijuana. He is only 17 years old. Kelley is his name and he has no job. He lives with his mom and supposedly attends GED classes during the evening. Well, if he's going...he isn't learning much. Kelley was sentenced to perform a month of community service for the City. This sentencing was given due to the fact that he is unemployed and depends on his mother for transportation. The very high fine that Possession of Marijuana carries would've been more of a punishment to her than her rotten kid. However now I've begun to think that maybe the woman is just a big an idiot as her son.<br />Kelley came to perform his community service today. He is a handsome young man. His mother is lily white and leaves one to guess that his father is likely black. At first sight of his good looks you want to think that maybe he's just made a mistake and has some potential in this life. Possibly not so.<br />While Kelley is working he wears an orange shirt over his own that says "Trustee" on it. Maybe it's a bad idea that anything attached to Kelley has the word "trust" in it. After working, while waiting for his ride, he stopped by the office. His orange shirt had been removed. We could plainly see his t-shirt. It had pot leaves all over and the letters "U P S". I don't really know exactly what that stood for but I got the general idea. We expressed our dislike of this and strongly encouraged that he refrain from sporting such attire in the future at the PD. We asked if his mother had seen his shirt. He said yes. Possibly she is a moron. Possibly he is a liar.<br />Is there a more obvious way for Kelley to have given us all the finger and a big "F.U."?? That is besides walking in with a big sign or possibly working while stashing a joint behind his ear???<br /><br /><br /><br />Side note: A lady came to pay a ticket today and told me that I looked as though I am "about to POP". Thanks lady. I'm glad you think I look like a fat cow.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1155306751169333922006-08-11T06:54:00.000-07:002006-08-11T07:32:31.323-07:00I want to go to AustraliaI just got off the phone with a lady who had an Australian accent. It was entirely lovely to speak with her for no other reason than to listen to her voice. It made me realize that too many people around here sound like such hicks. That probably includes me! It also made me realize that the stupid companies who are selling out and moving their call centers to other countries should totally move them to Australia. It would make me happy. And you know? It's ALL about me. *clears throat* Yeah right.<br /><br />So here I am, attempting to do my best to type while wearing a carpal tunnel brace on my right hand. For the past two nights (before last night, that is) my right hand and arm from the elbow down would hurt pretty badly during the night and wake me up. My fingers would be numb and feel horrible! So I called the doctors office for advice. They suggested a brace that could be bought at any pharmacy. I had no idea the braces were so convenient to buy. I honestly thought that they had to procured from the doctor.Yes, I am an idiot. But now I am an idiot whose right hand feels wonderfully better. The brace has already made a significant difference after only one night. So guess who got some sleep and is happy? Me!<br /><br />I have a triple baby shower to attend today at Ax's office. Three of the guys wives are expecting. Myself and the other two chicks are all pretty good friends. I think it will be fun. While I must admit that the idea of a triple baby shower is a bit awkward, hopefully we'll make it work.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1154979240863857072006-08-07T12:01:00.000-07:002006-08-07T12:34:00.993-07:0033 1/2 WeeksI'm extremely happy to note that I've had an uneventful pregnancy overall. No complications of any sort. Just the occasional swelling of the feet and little of the fingers but nothing fearful or entirely uncomfortable. I must confess that I would undertake any discomfort or difficulty to ensure that Wyatt is a healthy baby. My imagination and pessimism intertwine at times to make me worry that an easy pregnancy is a prelude to a worrisome result. I just have to lean on my faith and prayers to take me through my doubts. Worrying is useless.<br /><br />My belly is huge now. I feel Wyatt move A LOT. I'm thankful for each kick and roll. It has become a bit difficult to get up from lying down. Reclining in any sort of chair isn't conducive to easy breathing. I need more rest and sleep these days. I tire easily and my feet hurt from walking for too long. It seems as though the next few weeks will be the longest of my life. I'm hoping to work until September 1st. That just seems really damn tough for some reason. Then again I honestly think I'd go CRAZY sitting at home all day. I've had somewhere to be every weekday for my entire life. So now I'm just supposed to blissfully prop my feet up all day long? Okay wait a minute, that doesn't sound so bad after all =) The doctor says I'm due September 22nd. It's just hard to believe that I'll go that long. I think it'll be more like the second week in September. I really need to interject here that being pregnant is an absolutely amazing experience. It's not ALL roses, but there have been plenty of them along the way. Knowing that I'll have my very own child at the end of this ride completely blows me away. It's an absolute miracle to conceive, carry, and give birth to a child. I admit that while the third stage of that description is foreign to me at this point, how can it not be an amazing experience?<br /><br />At my last doctor's visit the doctor sent me home with a packet of papers I'm supposed to keep with me at all times in case I go into LABOR. Ummm....okay, did someone just say the 'L' word??? You all may already be aware that I'm a tad freaked out about that. But I'll manage. After all, I have been skydiving before. Surely I can do this too. There are similarities between skydiving and giving birth, right? Who am I kidding? I'll go into this blissfully blind and come through it one way or another.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1154437621661663892006-08-01T05:54:00.000-07:002006-08-01T06:07:01.940-07:00Happy Birthday to Me, to Me!!!Today I am 29 years ooooold. Yes, 29 is ancient! Though I am happy to be here. It seems that as the number I associate with my age grows, my mind has a tougher time comprehending a few things. In my youth I thought of any number higher than 27 as being one foot in the grave. It's amusing to remember those old thoughts. It seems I must redefine what it means to me to be young and what it means to be old. To be young is to have beauty and happiness in your life. A youthful person enjoys something new about each day. An old person no longer enjoys life and sees nothing positive to find happiness in. Guess I'll be young forever. Maybe 29 isn't too bad after all.<br />When I was a teenager, life was grand. The world was at my fingertips. Gimme good times and a party.<br />In my 20's I had goals to achieve. I basically knew what I wanted and worked toward obtaining some sort of status in this life.<br />In my mid and late 20's I began to understand just what it is that I want most out of life. Not a career. Not a big house, fancy car, or fat bank account. I want to increase the love in my life. Life is nothing without love. I want to strengthen my love of God, my love of family. I want a family of my own. It's a magnificent blessing to have a little baby on the way to begin that love with.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1154352988391652982006-07-31T06:20:00.000-07:002006-07-31T06:37:51.410-07:00Thankyouverymuch.I now have two baby showers under my belt. It's odd being the one in the spotlight for a change. I'm far more accustomed to sitting on the outside and looking in. But I made it through and enjoyed every second of it. All of my family and friends have been so wonderfully generous. It can be very frightening to think of all the stuff we'll be needing. I have no idea what we'd have to do were it not for the giving hearts that people have. We have all the big stuff now. And plenty of extras. It's hard to express how thankful I really am. You may think that all you did was buy me those onsies and that nurser set or breastpump I picked out. But it's so much more than that. Really.<br /><br />The baby shower my Mother-in-law gave was great. There were around 15 people there. Many of them Ax's relatives that I rarely see. It's great to visit with them. But odd because they see me only a couple of times a year and here I am, big as a house.<br /><br />My mother gave me a shower that was equally fabulous. My mom really enjoys breaking out the fancy dishes and serving plates. Mom sets a table that's hard to match. She's spent years collecting the antique punch bowl, ladle, cups, platters, plates, and all things silver and crystal. Mother really made me feel special. Everyone did.<br /><br />It's great to see all the open arms that little Wyatt will have waiting for him when he arrives.<br /><br />And speaking of his arrival. Yikes! The more I think about that labor thing. And ya know the pain that will inevitable accompany that....well...all I can say is AHHHHHHHHH. Anticipation of pain will only make it worse. Therefore, I REFUSE to dwell on it. I'm am hereby brainwashing myself. My labor will be all roses and rainbows. Yep, that's what I said. You out there laughing hysterically...shutup. I can be as delusional as I please. Thankyouverymuch.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1153512949443328002006-07-21T12:49:00.000-07:002006-07-21T13:15:49.583-07:00Pregnancy BrainYep, I've officially got it. I can feel myself getting dumber and dumber by the minute. I don't know how to describe it fully. Just a lack of concentration. And a serious lack of effort to focus.<br /><br />It seems that making it thru the workday is so much more of a chore than it's ever been. I watch the clock tick and daydream about lounging on the couch and taking leisurely naps. The self control required to keep myself at this desk is becoming more and more daunting. Lack of concentration and fatigue are my enemies in this battle. I will be 8 months as of next week. I can't believe it. My belly has grown a lot and it has more to go.<br /><br />I try not to think about the future too much. It only causes me a bit of anxiety. The short term worries of no sleep and all the expenses coming our way are daunting. The long term thoughts of how drastically life will change.<br /><br />There is a woman at the post office. She is a pretty lady in her late 40's I suppose. I see her often to mail packages from Ax's ebay sales. The lady, Mary, and I have spoken a few times. She's told me that she was only pregnant once, with her son. He's now on his way to college.<br />Many things about Mary linger in my mind. I have wondered what it's like to be her. To have only one child who's leaving the nest. To have a stable job and work the 40 hour a week drudge. What if I'm her when I'm almost 50? I don't know if I want to be. I want more. Maybe she has more and is happy. It's just my imagination going into over drive. The only sense I can make of where my brain is going is that I need to consider what I want my life to be like when I'm almost 50. And then work to make it happen.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1153327485072648162006-07-19T09:38:00.000-07:002006-07-19T09:48:18.846-07:00One of the DUMBEST things I've ever done...I was reading a blog and thought I'd confess about one of the dumbest things I've ever done.<br /><br />I had been in class all day at UTC (Univ of TN at Chattanooga). Which is a college. Duh. But you'd never believe I'd have ever set foot inside such an academic institution based on the idiotic things I've done.<br /><br />Class was over. I hiked to my car. Got into said car. Proceeded to look forward and see there was no vehicle in front of mine. Hit the gas. Successfully launched my little hatchback Hyundai Excel over the the top of a yellow, concrete parking barrier thingy. My crappy little car was parked at a slant in an uphill direction. There was another concrete barrier less than a foot away from the one I was at which basically trapped the front wheels of my car.<br /><br />So what does the genius do?<br /><br />First I tried reverse and lots of gas. No such luck.<br /><br />I felt like a such an absolute MORON. Who the hell does this sort of thing?!<br /><br />And then salvation came in the form of two hunky guys walking by. One of them was kind of shaking his head while asking me if I needed some help. The two of those blessed souls picked up the front of my car and moved it for me. God bless good Samaritans.<br /><br />Needless to say, since then, I have been keenly aware of driving forward from ANY parking space.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1153249646178863452006-07-18T11:57:00.000-07:002006-07-18T12:07:26.236-07:00I want some Raspberries! NOW!I'm getting further and further away from my desk. It seems that everyday I'm pushing away a little bit more. My belly is extending significantly. It enters the room before I do. My belly dictates how I sleep, how I sit, how I feel because sometimes it kinda hurts.<br /><br />I can see the baby move from one side to the other. It's kind of freaky. A happy freaky I'd say. But freaky is still freaky ya'll. I haven't seen any elbows or knees protruding yet. That will really knock me for a loop.<br /><br />I R.E.F.U.S.E. to go outside into the heat. I will only go quickly from one air conditioned space to the next. I despise the hot car.<br /><br />Sunday evening Ax and I went to his parents house. While there we got into the pool. Afterwards I evidently took my wedding ring off to put lotion on and left it in their bathroom. I didn't realize that I'd left it there until we got home. At first, I thought I'd lost it. I started freaking out. I almost got sick, it upset me so badly. But after my MIL said that she had found it and put it away for me, I calmed down. Dammit. I hate it when I do stuff like that. Soooo not good for the nerves.<br /><p>By the way. In case it's not obvious. I want raspberries! Now!</p><p> </p><p> </p>Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1152716592890441572006-07-12T07:36:00.000-07:002006-07-12T08:04:10.836-07:00Shampoo (What a Hilarious Word -Rinse & Repeat)I realized something strange about myself this morning.<br />I have five bottles of shampoo.<br />All of the bottles are about 3/4 empty. I have only one bottle of conditioner. What the heck is up with this? Neurotic, I'm thinking, is the word that describes me.<br />Maybe I just like buying new kinds of shampoo? That could've been a theory until I realized that three of the bottles are the exact same kind of shampoo. Go figure.<br />Seriously, what does this reveal about the inner workings of my brain?<br />The shampoo bottles. They clutter up the shower. They are ugly. Because? Obviously if you leave them sitting there for the 6 months to 1 year it takes me use them they get kind of scummy.<br />Do I have a fear of a shampoo shortage? Shampoo hoarding issues?<br />One particular large, black bottle kept falling off the edge of the tub. Eliciting colorful curse words from my hubby.<br />That's when I knew I had to make a change.<br />I solemnly devoted myself to using up that one big, black bottle of shampoo until it was gone.<br />Today, I succeeded.<br />The big, black bottle of shampoo is in the trash.<br />As I squeezed out the last of the goo and heard those farty noises that the bottle makes I felt a sense of accomplishment.<br />There are now only 4 bottles of shampoo left. Three of them being the same kind.<br />I am determined to work my way through them.<br />I will purge myself of my Shampoo Clutter.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1152651657741280732006-07-11T13:57:00.000-07:002006-07-11T14:00:57.766-07:00VeggiesWe're having a lovely couple over for dinner tonight. Andrea is preggers too. She's about a month or so behind me. She and her hubby are vegetarians. Not the strict kind. Just the simply "No Meat" kind. That has made cooking easy enough. Veggie pizza should do the trick. A fruit tart for dessert. It's only all the damned vegetable and fruit chopping that's wearing on a gal's feet. But oh well. I'm looking forward to their company.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1152300633404553532006-07-07T12:21:00.000-07:002006-07-07T12:30:33.433-07:00The 4thMy brother finally moved out of my parents house with his wife and three kids. They are now back in their own house after evicting our cousin EB.<br />Jeff now has a crackhead named Christina (Jeff's wife's best friend) that had previously been living in Florida with her three kids move in with them. Christina had been kicked out of her mother's and sister's houses.<br />Jeff has only been in his house for a few weeks.<br />Isn't this a nice turn of events? Christina's kids are brats (surprise, surprise). Jeff's oldest son who is 7 years old has told us that these kids keep him up at night and break his toys.<br />My dad went over to check on things. Christina began yelling at my dad.<br />People, this is a mistake. Do NOT yell at my dad.<br />She had no idea what landmine she was about to step on.<br />My dad has a very short fuse.<br />Thankfully he only yelled back and did not kill Christina.<br />This blow up led to Jeff being mad at my dad and refusing to attend the yearly 4th of July cookout. It hurt my dad's feelings. He missed Jeff's kids being there.<br />I am pissed at Jeff. He truly has the maturity of a 13 year old.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1151950150372686072006-07-03T10:52:00.000-07:002006-07-03T11:10:24.060-07:00Ramblings...What are the things I used to write about? I can't seem to remember anymore. I'm consumed with my uncomfortable condition. Yes, it has its enjoyable aspects, but mostly? BLECK. A tight, stuffed feeling in the abdomen that impairs sleep. An overly full feeling that makes me feel like a cow after eating a normal sized meal. While I do love the kicks there are so many feelings that I don't know how to interpret. I feel weird things in weird places. I look like I got into a fight with a mack truck and the truck won. I need a nap. I look at the nursery and feel anxiety. Anxiety over what babies are like. They are really needy in case you haven't noticed. Actually I'd bet that you have noticed a lot more than I have. I'm realizing that I'm a little selfish. I've failed to notice the obvious. I feel anxiety about my job. I'll be coming back part-time, but what does this mean for me? What will truly make me happy? Too many questions, not enough answers.<br /><br />Okay, okay. I'll stop my bitching. This is just a magnificent place to put feelings into words. I am now going to purposely change the subject.<br /><br />JENNI OF CLOUDY SKY REVIEWS SUPERMAN RETURNS:<br />This movie is utterly, absolutely awesome. Having always been a fan of the original Superman movies starring Christopher Reeve, my cinematically educated opinion is that Superman Returns fits seamlessly into the story line. I enjoyed the characters, scenery, plot, music, and everything about this film. The new Superman fits into his character wonderfully. Lex Luther is fabulously devilish. I highly recommend Superman Returns!Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11941832.post-1151499780113917472006-06-28T05:47:00.000-07:002006-06-28T06:03:00.136-07:007 MonthsI can feel the emotions welling up inside me. Just waiting for any little reason to overflow. The end result is that I end up bawling over nonsense. Ax made himself coffee this morning. He went to put milk in it and we were out. He made a hateful remark. Oh Holy Morocco. I held it in until I got into the car and on the road. It is not smart or easy to drive when your eyes are full of tears and you can't catch your breath. I had a hell of time reaching for a napkin in the glove box. It was all I had to mop up some of the waterworks. And then...Ax called. He said he was sorry and was being so sweet to me. That just totally made it worse. I cried harder. He offered to take me to dinner tonight, to take me to buy some jewelry for an early birthday present, to make dinner himself tonight if I didn't want to go out, to take me to the aquarium in Chattanooga to see the butterfly exhibit again. Ax is such a sweetie. I'm thankful to have him and thankful that he is so tolerant of my nuttiness.<br /><br />Outside of the occasional emotional breakdown, which thus far is honestly a fairly rare thing, I am doing well. My belly is growing daily and according to Ax and everyone else, I am definitely obviously preggers now. I can feel Wyatt (that what we've finally decided on) moving a lot. He's swimming around and kicking and punching. I am joyful with every motion I feel from him.<br /><br />I must admit that with the increasing girth comes increasing discomfort. Discomfort at looking at my fattness in the mirror. Clothes fit weirdly. My face is puffy. I am swelling in a variety of places. Sitting or lying certain ways just doesn't workout for me these days. But I do realize that this is only a very minor preview compared to what I have to look forward to in the days ahead. I am going to make an honest attempt to cherish everything I can about this experience. I may not be blessed with every going through it again. I am thankful.Jennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956647033922009759noreply@blogger.com2