Oh, Sammy W. We're all Winners When I Get to Shop.

Have you ever had a moral dilemma about spending a gift card?  Yeah, me neither, because, hello -- FREE MONEY.  That is, until my mom gave me a gift card to Wal-Mart.


DUM DUM DUM!


Yes, the dreaded Wal-Mart.  No matter how you feel about Wal-Mart, you have undoubtedly heard about the evil corporate policies that destroy lives all over the world (not that I'm taking sides or anything), and some obviously shop there to enjoy savings and convenience while others would rather stew in a pot of lava than shop there (you'll never guess to which group I belong).


So, yeah, we don't shop at Wal-Mart, but when my mom gave me this gift card that she had also gotten for free from someone, I realized that the thing I thought was the worst option -- going to Wal-Mart and buying things -- was actually what I MUST do.


Let me break it down for you:  Someone had already spent $25 at Wal-Mart to buy that gift card, but had gotten nothing in return.  Therefore, if someone received that gift card and never used it (as is often the case), then ... WAL-MART WINS.  And what do I NOT want?  That's right, a winning Wal-Mart.


But of course, as I pulled into the parking lot the other day and saw the sprawling building next to its sister-building, Sam's Club, I realized there was a whole other layer to this onion of a Wal-Mart problem.  Sigh.  Some of you might already know that I met my amazing, wonderful, fantastic husband while we were both working at ... Sam's Club.  A division of Wal-Mart.  Oh, the horrors.  And yes, it was just as horrible as you might imagine, as I was a cashier at a place that tricks people into filling their carts with things that weigh 50 pounds on average, but that's a whole different post.  Let's not dwell.  


The existential crisis looming in front of me was that if I had not been so hard-up for a job 10 years ago, I would not have applied at Sam's Club and I NEVER WOULD HAVE MET MY HUSBAND, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE WHO GAVE ME MY BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER!!!  Sam Walton ... gave me the best thing in my life??  *mind blowing*

Alright, I guess in we go.  Side note:  I brought my camera hoping to catch some beauties like these, but I got too scared to take pictures of people.  And do you have any idea what kind of strange looks you get taking a picture of the building you're about to walk into?  I'M the strange one?  This day is taking a real turn.


Going to Wal-Mart was DEFINITELY the way to go, because had we not gone, we would have missed out on the awesomeness that is Wal-Mart, like their MASSIVE selection of children's books ...

(Bible stories and coloring books?  Wal-Mart knows how to appeal to the masses)

The wide array of toys for children under 24-months old ...

(my head is spinning with all the choices!)

The wildlife ...

(I don't care who you are -- a bug AND a glass diffuser bottle for only $2.00?  That's a straight-up deal, y'all.)

And what I can only imagine is a doll you buy for your daughter to make her feel better after she cuts her own hair and has to go to school looking like a street urchin ...

(I don't want to be a little mommy to this kid!)

Wait, but WAIT!  Here's the best part:  When I got home, I looked in the bottom of my bag and found THIS:

Yup!  Gotcha, Wal-Mart!  You PAID me to take these things home with me:

bath-time safety!

bath-time fun!

the only socks that stay on my baby's feet!

Who's the winner now, big W? 

Yesterday: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good:  I actually had all of the essentials (lesson plans done, showered, dressed, make-uped) done BEFORE Josephine got up from her last nap so I could leave for work as soon as Jeremy got home!  


The Bad:  This is the second Tuesday in a row that I got a migraine ... this might be the start of a tradition.  Crap.


The Ugly:  I was SO hungry on the way to work that I actually spent some of my mad money (like, cash money that I could have spent on something fun like books, clothes, booze, or hookers) on Burger King.  I hang my head in shame.


Overall, not that bad of a day.


Oh wait!  And, The Gorgeous:

In Your FACE, 4th of July!

Hey suckers.  What did you all do this 4th of July weekend?  Probably something lameballs like sit in lawn chairs and eat someone else's BBQ that may or may not have made you puke later in the evening (sorry, Brandon), right?  Ha ha ha .. so ordinary.


I am guessing you did NOT do what I did: attend a toga party thrown by YOUR PARENTS.  Boom.  I bet you all feel pretty silly now.


Because I got to dress like THIS (in a bedsheet from my childhood):

And my husband and sister rocked out some wicked cool sheets for their togas and enjoyed multiple free drinks (while I enjoyed multiple free shirley temples):

I got to share a romantic dance with my husband (while he desperately arched his spine and pretended that my massive preggo belly was NOT an issue while slow dancing):

Oh, and did I mention there were PRIESTS there? (identity obscured because I don't want to go to hell):

I also got to witness my parents being schmoopy:

And my dad acting like a whackadoo:

So, all in all ... I WIN!!  But I hope your weekend was lovely nonetheless (I'm not heartless).

Devil Man Gets His Comeuppance

Let me tell you a tale.  A terrible tale in which I, a PREGNANT WOMAN, got shoved belly-first into a stone wall.

Did you have enough time for that to sink in?  No?  Okay, I'll repeat it.  A terrible, evil, rude fat man pushed my pregnant belly into a stone wall.

The day was Friday, and the place was the Smokey Bones restaurant in Lansing.  My dad had just gotten out of a meeting, and we got to the restaurant right in the middle of the 6 o'clock rush. The place was packed to the gills, and we were looking at a 45-minute wait.  I was feeling very claustrophobic in the waiting area, so my mom and I moved behind the hostess stand and stood up against the wall to be out of the way.

I have provided a 100% realistic rendering of this night so you can accurately imagine this scenario.

Also, please be assured that this is an ACCURATE representation of the restaurant and the placement of people within it.  I ran it by two hostesses, a waiter, and they original architect, and they all stated the dimensions were exact.  So, don't worry about that.

As you can see, there were tons of people, so I moved to a place where there were NOT a lot of people, and I was not in anyone's way.  You will see how much space is in between myself and the lovely fake fireplace.  A very large walkway, I would say.

However, a large, mean, stupid-looking gentlemen, who had just gotten done yelling at the hostess for not being seated quickly enough (because THAT always helps, right?) began walking past me on the way to the bar.  Instead of walking PAST me, at the last minute he SHOVED me.  Like, he used his hands as well as his large body.  Because I was looking at the dining area and talking to my mom about how full it was, I did not see him coming.  Also, because I was facing the wall, my stomach smashed into it.  

I was stunned.  I could not, seriously, could NOT believe what had just happened.  I spun around to get a look at the suspect, but by then, he was already getting his comeuppance.

The moment his ham-sized (and probably booger-covered) hands had smashed into me for NO REASON, the bartender LEAPED over the bar, ran up to him, and karate chopped him in the neck.  The jerk man immediately fell to the floor.  "Why?" the mean man whimpered in a baby voice.

"Did you just push that amazingly gorgeous pregnant woman?" the bartender shouted in his face with his foot on his chest, holding him to the ground.  "Yeah.  So what?" the asshat replied.  

BIG mistake.  Before the bartender even had time to respond, I shouted out the secret signal, and my legion of ninjas moved in with the speed of ... well, ninjas.  While they began beating the crap out of the lady pusher, my father and husband came running out of the bathroom.  

"What's going on??!?" my husband shouted.  "My spidey-sense told me that something was wrong.  That man on the ground.  He hurt you, didn't he?"  The rage quickly filled the eyes of my husband and father, but I held them back.  "Don't bother," I calmly replied.  "No need to get your hands dirty."  And, indeed, when they looked over, the ninjas had already taken care of the evil man.

The owner of the restaurant then came over and told the man that evil idiots were not welcome in his restaurant, and threw him out into the cold, where he lay, broken and bleeding, until the police came and took him away.

Sweet justice.

What really happened:

I gave the mean man a dirty look. 

Then, I made sure to keep an eye on him the rest of the 45-minute wait.  I gave him the evil eye any time he dared meet my eyeline.  I also made note of the fact that he yelled at the hostess three more times, and then WE got seated before him, despite the fact that he was there before us and we had the same size parties.  

So, even though my ninjas, the bartender, my father and my husband didn't dole out any vigilante justice, he got his.  Beware, jerks of the world:  Being rude will NOT get you ahead in life.

I Bet My Husband is Still VERY Attracted to Me

Okay, I am sure most of my (highly intelligent, supremely loyal) readers now know I am knocked up. They also might know that I have started a baby blog. They ALSO might realize that some of the babyness is going to spill over here to my "humor" blog.  

I'm sorry.  Here is the official written warning:  I might talk about the embryo/fetus/child over here from time to time.  It's hard to avoid the bleed over. And if babies make you cry or retch and you need to unfollow me because of this, be my guest.  (Except, I just took a screen shot of my list of followers, and if the numbers shrink I will figure out who unfollowed me and then I will FIND YOU.  And MAKE you love me again.)  

But I promise you this: (I have one hand in the air and one hand on my cleavage) all of the schmoopy updates and letters to unborn children and pleas for advice will be over THERE.  Over here is the stuff that might make you laugh even if you are not a mom and are too attached to wine to ever be one (it was a ROUGH break-up, let me tell you ...).  So, you have been warned.

Moving on.

This baby is kicking my ass.  Big time.  

Today I thought I would trick my brain into thinking I am not dying, and I STOOD UP for longer than five minutes. (This whole tricking my brain thing is getting a little easier every day.  Like when I feel a wave a nausea, I tell myself, "Oh my! A cough is coming on!  You simply need to cough, not puke, self!"  and sometimes it works!)  

While standing up for longer than five minutes I did a bunch of heroic things like wiping down the counters and swiffering the floors and MAKING DINNER.  It was unreal.  Every time I felt like dying, I told myself, "Oh, don't worry, body.  That is not you about to pass out!  That is just the excitement from CLEANING!  Oh, how you missed it!!"  I felt like I had completed a triathalon when I was done, but by God, my microwave was clean again.

It really got me to thinking about those New Year's Resolutions that I was too busy crying to write and how I can still set goals -- I just need to do them from this exhausted and nauseated place.  When little things feel like acts of international importance, you need to keep that feeling alive!

So, here are some realistic goals for 2010.  I resolve to ...

Drop my baby less than 20 times.

Sometimes get dressed.

Leave the house twice a week.

Okay.  That's enough.  

I can probably do these things.  Right?  I mean, I cleaned a MICROWAVE today when I had every intention of staying on the couch all day and crying.  It's all a matter of motivation.  

My plan is the print these out and post them on the fridge.  That way, every day when I accomplish one of these goals, I will feel like I won the Nobel Prize or something.

I suggest you all do the same.  Happy New Year's a few days late!

Guess What We Got for Christmas?

It took me 15 tries to get this picture because my hands were shaking so badly! Then, I was afraid that it might just be a cruel joke, since the line was so light. I booked it to the doctor the very next day to get a confirmation, and Jeremy and I decided we just could NOT wait to tell people, and Christmas was the perfect time. 


So, we got to reveal THIS fantastic shirt:

Skillfully made with fabric paints by yours truly!

I also started a new blog for friends and family who want to keep up with our little soybean as he or she grows.  Click here, and if you want to be a follower but do not know how, it is very easy.  The easiest way is to create a gmail address, and then when you click to follow, it will let you use that information.


Much Love,
Preggers and the Soybean

But I Love YOU, Pine Trees!

Today was a magical, wonderful day. I went to my VERY FIRST tree farm and got my VERY FIRST live Christmas tree.

My poor father is very allergic to pine needles, so we always rocked the artificial tree. Jeremy always had real trees, and we were excited to get our first tree. 

Jeremy was kind enough to research tree farms and then roll me out of bed early this morning so we could beat the crowds of idiots.

He was not, however, prepared for me to start crying and say that we couldn't get our FIRST TREE on our FIRST CHRISTMAS AS A MARRIED COUPLE without pictures to commemorate the event, and my camera, sadly, was resting in peace. So, we went and bought a camera. But they are on sale now, and I REALLY need a camera for my life make sense, so I am not sorry. 

Plus, I got all of this FINE photographic evidence!!:

Jeremy, with the saw and wagon, as we head out into the frozen tundra to find the tree of our dreams

There was not much snow on the ground and it was very bright out, but it was C-O-L-D! Yuck.

Next, Jeremy took the camera and turned it on me. I asked him what I should be doing, and he told me to "act natural." I KINDLY reminded him that it is in NO way natural for me to voluntarily be outdoors when it dips below 45 degrees.

So, I guess this is me being natural. Outside. In the cold. Surrounded by pine trees.

It actually didn't take us very long to find "the tree," so, Jeremy hacked away, and we were good to go.

Admiring

Sawing

Pleased with his handywork

I was proud of my choice to go to the "Scotch Pine" section. 

As you can see, our tree is a traditional species, has excellent needle retention, and is excellent for extended display. Excellent.

The ride back to the cashier

Aww. Our first tree tag. And look, we are BARGAIN shoppers!

Tied to the roof ... the question is, will it stay there?

But it DID stay tied to the roof!  Next, we had to get it standing up straight. Ummm. Kind of more difficult than we anticipated. Turns out the trunk was a BIT wonky and crooked. 

Cleo was super excited to see the tree in the living room. Here, she is licking Jeremy's face like mad.

MoJo helps Jeremy check out the problem

About then is when we realized that I, too, may be allergic to those little pine needles that were now taking over my home. I realized this might be the case when I was wondering why my arms felt like they had been set on fire and I pulled up my sleeves to see a red dot in every single place a needle had touched me and hives forming. Awesome.

Not the best photographic evidence, but my vampire skin does not photograph well, okay?

About one minute later, I realized that the lights I got on clearance last year were such an awesome deal because they were white lights on WHITE strands, not green, and looked DIS-GUS-TING on the tree. So what did I do? What any rational person does: I cried that Christmas was ruined.

We had already been in and out of like 15 stores that day, and I was exhausted and just wanted to decorate the tree, and my arm was on FIRE, damnit!!

So Jeremy quietly left the house to buy acceptable lights, and I hung the stockings. With care.

Can you guess which is mine and which is Jeremy's?

Here wife. Will this stop the howling and sobbing?

It did. We put on the lights and began to decorate our lovely tree.

Look, a picture of me! (and MoJo in the background. Creeper.)

MoJo wonders "Is this made of REAL Santa?"

And then the star ...

... and the reveal.

And I only broke two bulb ornaments.  

Then I promptly fell asleep on the couch. For four hours.

Merry Christmas!!