Bonnaroo

We are hours away from a music extravaganza called Bonnaroo. Being from Louisiana, festivals of any kind are integral to my being a whole person. I have yet to check out Bonnaroo. It falls at a bad time for us restaurant folk...a weekend in the summer.

I will go one day.

To my friends who are Bonnarooing (Annakonda!), have fun. Be safe. Drink much. Eat more. Beware of patchouli. Please tell the Neville's, Dr. John, and the Rebirth Brass Band that I miss them and will see them soon.

And if ya'll don't attend the temple of DJ Sasha, your cosmic punishment will be a life of Pat Boone albums. Sasha is a God, and must be revered.

Firsts

First day that strangers have noticed I am pregnant.

First day in months that I haven't crawled home after work to collapse in bed for a nap.

First day I have been able to relax about moving, becuase WE DON'T HAVE TO. Well, until next May. But I can handle that.

First feeling that maternity pants may be in order. Stat.

Two Things

First. Seth can swim. Underwater. I was having a mild panic attack at the thought of teaching him to swim. Where do I start? How do I teach? After one day at camp, he is swimming like a fish underwater. Thank God.

Second. Doctor update. I got an A+ on health. JOY! We heard the little poof's heartbeat, which never gets old. And...I haven't gained a pound.





















*snort of disbelief*

After THAT news, I went home and celebrated by eating two Bubba burgers with cheese and a mountain of potato salad. What the hell! Might as well.

Mister Softee

Ah...pregnancy dreams.

When I was pregnant with Seth, I had a most vivid dream that I gave birth to my cat, Boo. I also breastfed him. In the dream.

Last night, It was Mister Softee. The truck was everywhere. At all times. Day. Night. Thousands of flavors. I would wake up to roll over, pee, whatever, go back to sleep, and Mister Softee was there again.

As a child, I would sit on the curb for HOURS with Patrick, waiting to hear the faint sound of the jingle...probably miles away. Seriously. As kids, we had ears like bats. And it was just like that Eddie Murphy skit. We would run home, screaming for money. Hearts racing. Sweating. And the jingle was getting louder...closer...OhGodwhatifwemissthetruck!! My mom told me that she and Patrick's mom conspired, and told us kids that Mister Softee only came a few days a week. Elsewise, we'd sit on the curb, every day, and waitwaitwaitwait. Mister Softee was an integral part of my youth in Niagara Falls.

So! It has been on my mind all freaking day. I wish Seth could experience the Mister Softee total body buzz. I wonder if he'll have something like that in his childhood that he looks back on, with most excellent memories. A ringing in of summer, that he'll remember for the rest of his life.

Summer

I think summer has finally arrived in the mountains. I hesitate to say that too loudly, lest Mother Nature catch wind of my words and throw a freak snowstorm our way.

This morning, I have a family of nuthatches helping themselves to beakfuls of suet. While they eat, they make these happy little beeping sounds. A blue jay just discovered Miss Puff's Nine Lives, and is joyfully announcing to the others that breakfast is SERVED, ya'll. The trees have their leaves. The flowers have bloomed. And this year, the rhododendrons are fabulous.

And it is warm. A soothing 60 degrees this AM. The windows are open, and the air smells like cut grass and irises.

Seth's last day of school was Tuesday. He will be going to a day camp three days a week. He will do something different every day, and both he and I are looking forward to it. I can work during the day knowing that he is having an awesome summer.

So! Morning sickness all gone. I whisper this, too. Mother Nature has a wicked sense of humor.

Dinner last night: Taco Bell. One Ultimate Chalupa. One Double Decker Taco. Half of a Cheese Quesadilla. And for dessert? Marble Slab...rum ice cream with Nestle Crunch chunks in a Heath Bar waffle cone.

I know. My healthy eating habits are astounding. Ya'll are brimming with pride at my intelligent menu selections. I swear, I can do better! Just give me a chance!

(Spoken like a true Taco Bell addict...)

AM Tag

Jeanne has tagged me this fine morning...

Name 5 things in your refrigerator
1. Flavored unsweetened waters
2. Hummingbird nectar
3. Butterscotch pudding
4. Rice a Roni from last night
5. Grape juice

Name 5 things in your closet
1. Joe's clothes. Lots and lots of clothes
2. Feather boa
3. Deflated balloon from Valentine's Day (but it SINGS!)
4. Vacuum cleaner
5. Bag of stuffed animals from childhood

Name 5 things in your purse
1. About $30 in change
2. wine opener
3. lipsticks (5)
4. Scads of pens
5. Ice Breakers Tropical Sours (to fend off morning sickness)

I'll tag Amber and Anna.

Morning thoughts

Did anyone else find pregnancy to be a lonely place sometimes?

It seems that few understand.

Women who have never been pregnant cannot understand. Those who are moms have forgotten. Husbands, well, they do try. But I can't shake the feeling of being the kid in school who is left out, picked last for P.E.

I chose this. I chose to be pregnant. I chose to give up the things that are bad for me and the baby. But it SUCKS to lose some of the links I have to the people I love. Staying up late, talking into the night. Having a beer or three. Trading these things for mind-numbing exhaustion. Crushing waves of nausea.

*sigh*

I think this is why pregnant women feel so close to the docs. THEY get it.

Our little seal

See? He/she's got a head and a body and little arm flippers and little leg flippers and a yolk sac and a heartbeat (179 beats a minute!) and he/she MOVED and...and...

NO TWINS.

Joe saw those little flipper appendages and declared that we are having a seal. I love him so.

Anticipation...

Top Chef.

Harold or Tiffani.

If Tiffani wins, you will hear my angry scream, wherever you live.

I was pulling for her, at first. She's a redhead, I'm a redhead. She's feisty as hell; so am I.

But...

"They smile in your face...all that time they wanna take your place,
the backstabbers...BACKSTABBERRRRRRS..."

You know the song. So does Tiffani.

Get her, Harold! Cook her ass under the table!

Nine weeks

Um. Ok. "They" say that you pop out sooner with the second one. But HOLY SHIT I didn't expect so much, so fast. Now. Don't get me wrong. I love The Bump. But I will be relieved to see the ultrasound on Thursday, just so I know I'm not pregnant with twins.

Twins.

*scream*

It's just a PG irrational fear. It's just a PG irrational fear.

Comments

I'm still learning this blog stuff.

I turned on comments for everyone. Seems I had it programmed to accept comments from Blogger members only.

So. Comments are open. Be nice. Or karma will bite you in the ass.

Playlist

Seth's newest CD.

"Follow You Follow Me" Genesis
"You be Illin' " Run DMC
"September" Earth, Wind, and Fire
"Cows with Guns" Garrison Keillor
"Kidnap the Sandy Claws" Nightmare Before Christmas
"Hot Fun in the Summertime" Sly and the Family Stone
"Something About You" Level 42
"Lovely Day" Bill Withers
"Just the Two of Us" Bill Withers
"After the Storm" Norman Brown
"Yah Mo Be There" Michael McDonald and James Ingram
"Summer Lovers" The Rippingtons

Now, that's cool. Admit it. It is.

Hobbes

He hasn't been home in a week, ya'll. We are all worried. And sad. Real sad.

Moving again.

OK. So we KNEW moving into this groovy house that the owners were going to put it on the market at the end of May. WE KNEW. But! We moved in anyway. And fell in love with this house. Over the door is a sign that says "Heatherwood Knoll." And, in the garden, one that says, "Seth's Garden."

Karma, ya'll!

*sigh*

The house is as good as sold. A family came to look at the house Saturday, and they love it. Want it. Are gonna buy it.

So. We have a few months (thank GOD) to find a new place to live. Sistahfriend Laura made some excellent points on moving to a new home. The first and most important one: we need all bedrooms on one floor. Especially with a new lil' bean. Running up and down stairs all night long? Great workout, yes. Fun and exciting, no.

So. Send us good house-hunting vibes. Positivity (Much thanks to you, Anna!).

General Update

Anniversary: Relaxing and warm and fuzzy. We spent two days in Asheville. Spent the night in a cozy cabin, compliments of Allen and Debbie (much thanks, ya'll!). Hit the Trifecta of Stores that Begin with "B." Barnes and Noble, Best Buy, and Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Went to the mall. Reveled in the glory that is Target. I know, I know. What's so great about that, you say.

These places do not exist down herr in tha hollah.

So, we felt like real city folk! I said to one clerk who was laughing at my wide-eyed stare at modern commerce, "You don't understand. We are from the sticks." To which Joe retorted, "We are not FROM the sticks. We LIVE in the sticks." Damn straight.

We ate sushi at a real sushi bar. Mine cooked, Joe's raw. They piled our order into a BOAT. Everyone at the bar was like, "Where is that going?" "Who in God's name ordered all that?"

We did. And we waved to the people when it arrived at our table, and we put that mother dowwwwwwwwn.

We also ate the top of our wedding cake. It was hermetically sealed and frozen. We prepared ourselves for the worst.










































It was freaking delicious. I love how Joe's smokes are laying there next to the empty plate. Like having a cigarette after some particularly good S.E.X. Hehehe.


Doctor Visit: We had the first visit with the doc today. Well, the Nurse Practitioner. Her name is Nancy, and she rocks. She laughed with us, a lot. I meet Dr. Clark next month. We did all the preliminary stuff...pee in a cup, blood work, physical. So far, so good. Blood pressure is good. Our starting weight for this pregnancy is 132. All pretty uneventful. But a good place to start.

So, yay!

Happy Anniversary to us!

Tomorrow will be one year.

All day, I've been like, "Last year at 1:oo, we were having our rehersal."

"Last year at 3:00, we were BBQ'ing at the Delay's."

I'll do it all day tomorrow, too.

"Last year at 2PM, we were married!"

Group...group...

Grouper.

And green beans.



Quietly sitting on a plate in the window at work, waiting patiently to be brought to the lucky person who ordered them for lunch.

Guess what ya'll! Morning Sickness has arrived.

Morning Sickness has been waiting in the shadows, quietly giggling as I said the following:

• "Gawd, I feel GREAT!"
• "I am starving. I need to eat. Damn this tastes good."
• "Morning sickness? Hardly any with Seth."
• "This will be a BREEEEEEEEZE!"
• "Are we out of Klondike bars?"

Morning Sickness grew tired of my bravado today. It announced its presence today at the sight and oh-so-aromatic smell of a fried grouper sandwich with green beans.

Grouper.

And green beans.

Six Weeks

Six weeks, people. SIX WEEKS. And I'm sucking it in.

Verbal Sparring

Think of this along the same lines as people trading "Yo Mama" jokes.

Joe: "Git yo assssss outta bed."

Me: "Trust me, I'm gonna kick yours if you don't hush it."

Joe (from closet): "OOOOOOH. I am scared. Really."

Me: "Damn straight. You should be."

Much giggling and laughing.

Joe: "Git yo Sam's Club value pack of hormones ASSSSSSSSS outta da bed."

Much laughing, disabling speaking.

Like PMS, only better

The restaurant opened full time yesterday. No more part-time, dreary winter schedule. Full on, seven-days-a-week madness. It's what we servers here in the mountains wait for. The Money Season. I was bartender last night, which means no uniform! I can wear whatever I want! Yay! I'll even wear a dress! Oh, the excitement.

An hour later...

Nothing fit. If it did, it was the wrong color. Or, it just didn't hang right. Or, the shoes looked too slutty. Or...or...or...

I decided yesterday, in a hormone-induced fit of insanity, that my hair just needed to be cut. Thank God my hairdresser is pregnant, too, and understood when she called me back this morning that I had changed my mind. And thank you to the person who told me my hair looked great. You, random person, soothed the evil HormoneBeast who told me otherwise.

When Joe and I came home from work, he walked into the bedroom to kick off his shoes. All he could do was laugh and shake his head. He did not KNOW that a bomb had exploded earlier, emptying the contents of my closet onto the floor, bed, and dresser. He was caught unaware.

I wasn't there when the bomb detonated. It must have been scary. I am pleased to report that no one was hurt.