Wednesday in a Nutshell

Here's how today went:
Went to work
Work work work
Change into gym clothes and go walking with Melissa
Walk walk walk
Race to grocery store to buy ingredients for dinner
Home to make dinner (chili and cornbread)
Chop chop chop
Dice dice dice
Stir Stir Stir
Wake Husband (who was post-call) for dinner
Find out that he has killer heartburn and cannot possibly eat chili
Feed him cornbread
He goes to sleep
phew.

Trick or Treat or &*^%#*

If you know me - you know that I do NOT handle being startled very well. (i.e. I once broke down into tears when my dad tried to "startle" the hiccups out of me. I was 28 years old at the time.) This trait is clearly genetic and passed along the X chromosome, because my mom is the same way.

I was so lucky to have my parents in town this weekend! We had a blast and it was so great to see them. Saturday night we dropped by to visit the Millers, had a special visit from the Hollenbecks, and then spent the evening at home welcoming trick or treaters. At one point, my mom went to answer the doorbell and a small gaggle of children were there with costumes on and buckets out. As she was handing out the candy, another child jumped out from bushes and shouted "boo." To which my mother, jumps back and screams, "SHIT, you scared me!"

Nice. You kiss your future grandbaby with that mouth?

21 Weeks (and some notes)

First, a note about these posts.
1) As the baby gets bigger, there ceases to be a fruit or vegetable item which is comparable in size - so while the baby is the LENGTH of a carrot, it is obviously a bit wider and rounder.
2) As much as I appreciate the credit from my Grammy, I do not, in fact, take these pictures. I pilfer them from the wonderful BabyCenter website.
3) I do, however, write the captions - which I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about so as to provide the greatest possible amusement to my pun-loving sister. I realize that sometimes I miss the mark.
That being said, without further ado. . .

What's up, future doc?

Remember when . . .

Remember when you were in college. At a fraternity party. And some poor girl was COMPLETELY drunk, and met up with some frat boy - and then they proceeded to make-out porn style on the dance floor. Him - groping her in all directions and putting his hands in places that are reserved for private use. Her - totally oblivious to the fact that people were watching and staring and forming pretty steadfast opinions about her worthiness in society.

Well during our recent trip to Asheville, my entire family had the chance to relive those memories. In a restaurant. With a couple that had to have been in their 50s. And most likely strung out on designer drugs of some sort.

Ahh . . . memories.

This Beat is Bananas!

That's MISS Chiquita to you!! (Translation: It's a girl :)

Out-smarted

I'm trying to copy and paste a post that our sister wrote in her blog this week - a letter to our unborn child (her niecephew - as she calls him/her). But apparently there is some sort of anti-plagerism smart-tool feature in my computer because it won't let me paste the text into my own blog. I can copy it. I can paste it in a word document. But I can't paste it here . . . . spooky.

So I guess you'll have to go here to read it.

Mama Mia!

19 weeks.