Doggone It

Don't let his docile appearance fool you.



Taking pictures of Opie by the Christmas tree is hard...













It's times like these that the phrase "Dogs don't come into the world stupid; people make them stupid" comes to mind.

Oops.

Gobble Gobble

Alternately Titled: "HOKEY PETE! THE ROLLS ARE TAKING OVER THE KITCHEN!!!"


I am not proud. And I was further humiliated in the kitchen Thanksgiving day when I attempted to make Pioneer Woman's cranberry sauce only to have the entire pot of maple syrup boil over and engrave itself onto my stove top. It was not a victorious morning of Thanksgiving preparations. Luckily, the hubby came in and saved me from a panic attack. He has good timing like that. We were able to salvage the cranberry sauce and the rolls. The state of the stove is to be determined because I have been too busy sitting around in my cozy mukluks admiring my Christmas decorations to clean it up.

We had a fun lunch with both sides of our family. My MIL set a gorgeous table with all the trimmings.


My sister made an enormous bowl of fruit salad. I'm not going to say I didn't go back for fourteenths last night and later find that I had so indulged in this salad that I had sticky fruit juice in my hair. That didn't happen. Really.


The hubs is a big fan of turkey legs. Brings back memories of trips to Disney World. I would say the highlight of Disney for me was the princesses or the Honey We Shrunk The Kids playground or the Peter Pan ride. Not the hubby. His highlight was the turkey legs. What a man.


It was a day full of fun, festivities, furry friends, and food.








In other news, the house is decorated, we're putting up our tree tomorrow, I got all of my Christmas shopping done today, and my aMaZiNg parents came over and painted our baby nursery today. It has been one productive week so far. Looking forward to lounging around for the rest of the weekend with the hubby and family.

And for your reading pleasure...

Griswold: "We're kicking off our fun old fashion family Christmas by heading out into the country in the old front-wheel drive sleigh to embrace the frosty majesty of the winter landscape and select that most important of Christmas symbols.
Audrey: "We're not coming all the way out here just to get one of those stupid ties with Santa Clauses on it are we?"
Griswold: "No, I have one of those at home."

Happy Decorating!

Gratitude

I just found an incredible little post that far surpasses the blurb I was going to write in honor of Thanksgiving. So, I'll pass on the link and simply say, I want to be the one in ten too.

http://www.incourage.me/2009/11/the-only-one.html

"Wait, what?!? Are you sure???"

As soon as the monitor hit my belly and our little- scratch that- BIG baby hits the screen, a resounding "IT'S A BOY!" bounced off the walls.

I have never seen the hubby smile so big in his life. I think I started hyperventilating. I completely and entirely thought we were having a little girl, and I had to back pedal and make sure I heard the tech right...

"Wait, what?!? Are you sure??? I really thought we were having a girl!"

The tech laughed and went on to point out our little man's anatomy, at which point I realized we most certainly are HAVING A BABY BOY!!!

I proceeded through the rest of the ultra sound in a daze, mostly from the realization that we are being blessed with a little baby boy and partially from the 16 ounces of water and 4 ounces of Coke I had downed and was being forced to "hold" for an entire hour and then some...that much liquid and a lady pregnant with a baby the size of a cantaloupe are not a good combo.

As I floated through the ultra sound, all I had to do was look up at the hubby's radiating smile to remind me that the whole thing was real and we really are pregnant with a little-destined-to-wear-plenty-of-camo-man.

I did manage to remain coherent enough to hear that he has 10 fingers and toes and everything looks like we're right on track for a healthy baby. Praise the Lord! We are so thankful for such a great report! He is about 8-10 inches long now, and he weighs 12 ounces...which means that even though they won't move up his due date, he is measuring at a April 12 due date- 5 days earlier than the "official date" they have in the books. Woohoo! This momma is a fan of any news that might mean I get to meet this little guy a few days sooner than first expected!

Hokey Pete. I have been freaking out all afternoon. I went to Terrrget today to buy the cutest baby boy outfits I could find and some matching binkies. I brought them home and set them out on the table, and the thought of a little guy wearing those by this time next year just melted my heart. I had to scrape my heart off the floor before heading over to my particle board computer desk to look up my crib bedding online and drool all over the set we have planned for a little boy. Our little boy. Sigh. I am so excited!

Pictures to come soon...after we share our news with the rest of the fam and after another shopping spree tomorrow with my mom.

Our Little Mango

Tomorrow is a big day...



We go in for our second ultra sound tomorrow afternoon, which means we get to see our little mango! I can't wait...I have tried to keep myself busy the past several days because I just can't hardly stand the excitement! There is just something amazing about seeing the little life God has put inside of me, and I am thrilled that tomorrow the hubs and I get a sneak peek!

For our first ultra sound, we were completely unprepared; we didn't even know we were getting an u.s. until we saw our little gummy bear dancing around up on the screen...so this time, I'm going to be ready. I'm bringing in our camera and video camera to see if we can catch some shots of our mango in action. Not sure if video taping is allowed, but I'm going to follow the advice my daddy always gave me growing up: "Just act like you know what you're doing and nobody is going to stop you." That advice has enabled us to do everything from sneaking candy into the movie theatre to venturing into the university trophy room after hours, so I'm banking on it working for us tomorrow. We're going to march in there like we own the place and get some good clips of our little baby.

We are also hoping to find out whether we're having a little boy or a little girl! I'm planning on hitting the after-Thanksgiving day sales armed with the knowledge of whether I should be buying in pink or blue. Mom and I are planning on painting the nursery this weekend too, so I'm anxious to know what paint I need to buy...I have the bedding and paint colors picked out for a boy or a girl, and I am just giddy about finally knowing which direction to go!

Time to get started on the list of to-dos I put together to keep me busy between now and tomorrow afternoon...can't wait!

Chowing down on a Thursday night

PLUS



EQUALS


Yes, please.

Welcome to my culinary nightmare...

After dinner tonight the hubs turns to me and says: "We need to get you some stuff to make cookies. Like Christmas cookies or peanut butter cookies or something." I knew right away that what he wasn't saying was, "Gee, I'm hungry for dessert. Would you pass me those leftover Sour Patch Kids we bought when we went to a movie three months ago?" The man's sweet tooth kicked in tonight, and in an effort to redeem the fact that I sat around in my pajamas all day, I decided to whip out the cookbook.

My aunt and my grandmother put together a fantastic collection of family recipes for me when I got married, so I began flipping through it, passing over any recipe that was over half a page long.

Because I just didn't have a full page of recipe in me tonight.

I landed on my aunt Penny's "Rich Cookies" and read through the ingredients. #1 on the list: 1 1/2 cups Crisco. I knew right away this was the winner, because I am reading The Help and just read through Minny's ode to Crisco last night:

"Who in this world doesn't know what Crisco is? Ain't just for frying. You ever get a sticky something in your hair, like gum? That's right, Crisco. Spread this on a baby's bottom, you won't even know what diaper rash is. Shoot, I seen ladies rub it under they eyes and on they husband's scaly feet. Clean the goo from a price tag, take the squeak out a door hinge. Lights get cut off, stick a wick in it and burn it like a candle."



I set the recipe on the counter, and got to work. It wasn't until half way through the recipe that I realized I was out of baking soda. And cream of tartar. And sugar. And the flour expired a month ago. I weighed my options...get dressed and go to the store to buy the missing pieces, or...stay in my pajamas, toss in some baking powder instead of soda, some allspice instead of cream of tartar, some brown sugar instead of regular sugar, and take my chances with the expired flour. I went for plan B. That's just how I roll at 6:32 on a Wednesday night. Actually, that's how I roll all the time. I come from a family of highly gifted cooks- Mom even considered going to culinary school in France- and in the kitchen, I am their worst nightmare. Just ask my sister, whose consistent reaction when I say I made dinner is "Did it come out of a bag or a box?"

The truth is, I enjoy cooking. I just don't enjoy making extensive grocery lists or planning ahead or changing out of my pajamas when I have successfully planted myself in them all day... which often lands me with a Dijorno pizza for dinner or a batch of cookies made up of random ingredients that look or smell kinda like the real ingredients.

The cookies just came out of the oven, and I'm not going to say they taste "good". I am going to say they taste "mediocre", which is a step above the "crappy" I had prepared myself for. That being said, I think it's about time I hit the couch with a cup of milk and my book. I'm dying to look further into the practical uses of Crisco.

It's good to be back

After dinner at Qdoba and a whirlwind trip to the grocery store tonight, the hubs and I found ourselves together in the living room listening to the pleasant squeak of Opie's football chew toy...

Hubby: "Do you ever wonder what we're going to do with Opie when he dies?"

Me: "[Wow. That was out of left field.] Um, not really...I guess it'll be really hard. We got him when we were newlyweds."

Hubby: "I wanna stuff him like Rowdy!"


(Rowdy)

Oh, it's good to have my man back.

Leggo my Eggo

Exhibit A:
5 month pregnant lady and her dog eating frozen waffles for dinner waiting for the hubby to return from a weekend hunting trip.


I'm not sure there's anything more pathetic than a pregnant lady eating Eggos for dinner because she is too lazy to fix a decent meal when the husband isn't home to commend her advanced and domesticated cooking skills. Maybe blogging about it is more pathetic. I guess there's no where to go but up from here...

It all started in the showroom

My sister and I left for IKEA yesterday in the early morning hours of a sunny and warm fall day. I had decided I was going to be good while the hubby was at Deer Camp and stick to the budget. You know, Dave Ramsey it. I had a modest list of things to get, and it would be a quick, guiltless trip. As soon as we walked through the doors, the plan was doomed.

It all started in the showroom.

We rode up the escalator, and tucked into the corner of one of the model living rooms was a delicious little Christmas tree, and I was gone. I spent the next two hours filling my IKEA bag and dragging that little yellow cart around like a mad woman. I couldn't resist snatching up various things thinking about how cute they would look in a house decorated up for Christmas just like that little showroom. Good grief. The sister was there; I don't know why she didn't stop me.

Safe to say I spent the better part of my Christmas shopping budget on things like slipcovers and candles, so gifts for family and friends this year will be slim pickins. Sorry folks. There's only so much a baby momma can do when she spies an 8 pack of assorted rainbow kiddie bowls and matching cups.

It all started in the showroom and now the hubs and Opie are getting newspaper clippings for Christmas because the baby momma spent their Christmas money on the Best of Amy Grant's Christmas collection and a particle board desk for the computer. Ah, well. I guess that's what happens when the hubby takes off for Deer Camp and leaves me with a wad of cash.

Lack of male supervision and Christmas displays in the front window of every store in the vicinity is just bound to be a bad combination. Should have seen it coming.

Behold with me the beauty of such a disaster, won't you?

Relish in the convenience of a coat rack.


Swoon at the coordination of perfectly selected pillow slip covers.




Sigh at the inevitable adorableness that is a candle lantern.


Ooh and aah at the wonder that is the $25.00 particle board desk.


Totally worth it.

Although, I have to say, I was not prepared for the intensity that was being pregnant without a handy man in the house to assemble my IKEA desk. I didn't account for the frustration that comes with trying to bend over and hammer things into place over the obstacle that is the large baby belly. It took me and Opie a lot of improvising, yelling, and kefir to make our way through the construction of that sucker. In fact, the event was so trying, I may have slipped into Christmas decorating therapy in order to recover. More on that later.

For now, I am going to plop myself down on my new pillows and wait for my handsome hunter to return triumphant. At least I hope that is the case. If he has to go out again next weekend, I'm going to have to start pawning off my possessions in order to acquire the kind of funds I'd need to conquer another warehouse full of cheap home decor.

Tis the season of the Snapfish photo album

This year I have been determined to get all of my Christmas shopping done by the end of Thanksgiving weekend so I can enjoy December and all the cheer it has to offer without stumbling in and out of the mall each and every weekend.

The plan sounded great until I realized it was already the middle of November and not only have I not purchased any Christmas gifts, but I also I have no idea what to get a SINGLE person on my list. No idea.

Then, it hit me- Like an Opie greeting when you walk in the door after having been gone all day and he hits you in the upper thighs with more force than a 30 pound puggle should be capable of: a Snapfish photo album. EUREKA!

Not only is it an entirely affordable gift, but it also includes two things I think are invaluable in a Christmas gift: time and the preservation of memories.

Sweet goodness.

I have been working on them all day. I started at 11:00 and looked up to see that it was 3:00 before I even thought to get up from the computer for some leftovers to eat. I am a photo album making machine, and I am loving the thrill of creating something with pictures that does not involve a lot of stickers and staples and embellishments. Just click, drag, and write. My kinda scrap booking.

So if you're on my Christmas list this year, pretend like you didn't read this and you have no idea you might be getting a photo album for Christmas.

Time to get back to Snapfish and all of its Christmas wonders...over and out!

Oh, that little Keebler Elf

Is it wrong to eat these:



While watching this?



My hubby came back with an entire package of Keebler cookies from a 7-Eleven preggers craving run. All I asked for was a 16 oz. Verner's, and he comes back with a little bit of chocolate heaven. My hero. Mmm mmm.

If eating Keeblers while watching the remaining contestants plug away through their "last chance workout" is wrong, then I don't wanna be right.

Deer Camp on the Horizon...

Five years ago I couldn't have told you what "opening day" was. The only thing I could tell you was that on said "opening day" 79% of the male teachers at my highschool took off and didn't come back until the following Friday. Now, having dated and been married to a camoflague enthusiast for over 5 years, I can say with confidence that I know what "Opening Day" is, and with even more confidence, that as a woman, I will never understand the excitment this day brings for my husband. He is more excited for opening day this weekend than I was when Santa brought me my first American Girl doll. And that is saying a lot, folks.

First of all, for those of you who don't know, "Opening Day" is when the menfolk don every last bit of camo attire they have, including, but not limited to, gloves, hats, pants, coats, boots, and underwear, and hit the woods for an indefinite amount of time in an effort to kill off Bambi and all of his close friends and relatives.



Four years ago, this was not a big deal. He would leave for a day, I would shop for a day, and we'd all come back happy.

However, last year everything changed. Suddenly, what had been only one day of camo attire and bacon and peanut butter sandwiches at 5 in the morning turned into an all out multitude of weekend getaway extravaganzas, including the debut of "Deer Camp". Deer Camp involves a bunch of men wearing long flannel underwear and watching "Escanaba in da Moonlight" in celebration the night before they wake up before the sun to sit high in the trees looking for deer to blow to smithereens.


(Yes, I have seen this movie. And no, I do not want to talk about it.)

I'm not sure what to do with myself.

Deer Camp Take 2 is rapidly approaching, and the amount of glee and happiness radiating from the testosterone in this house is comparable to the amount of excitement I had the week I blazed through all 1,800 pages of the Twilight series...only the excitement is not because the hubby is reading page after endless page of the thrilling adventures of the Cullens...it's because this weekend he gets to shack up with the guys and get him a buck. Mercy. Alex, I will take what the ??!? for five hundred, please.

This morning, I got a call from my dearest L (she of course, is enduring the Deer Camp hysteria as well this week, seeing as her hubby is one of the many participating in the camo-saturated endeavor) detailing a FIVE page email my hubby sent out to his cronies regarding "Deer Camp" this weekend. FIVE pages. The hysteria and anticipation of said "Deer Camp" can only be justified if it ranks as the equivalent of a weekend of shopping complete with Target, IKEA, and GAP outlet stores complimented by breakfasts at Starbucks, lunches at Panera, and dinners at Chili's. Following said shopping, a double feature showing Twilight and New Moon in theatres. All expenses paid, and an evening in a posh hotel complete with complimentary spa treatments. Now that is the kind of event warranting five pages of unabashed gushing and anticipation. But five pages full of phrases like "don't forget to get your tags," "I suggest one antler and 2 non-antlers," "I'll have my Xbox there, feel free to bring your controllers and games" and "beer"?!? ...it blows my mind. Oh, the complex infrastructures of the male mind.

All of that to say, Deer Camp is on the horizon, and my washing machine has been working over time for the first time in years, washing every wool sock and camo pair of boxers known to man in anticipation of my hubby's weekend away with his bromances. I don't get it. But I'll tell you what I do get: a trip to IKEA with my sister to celebrate her birthday on Saturday while the menfolk are out doing their thing, and the promise of no griping when I blow 40 bucks at the theatre buying the drink, popcorn, and candy combo and tickets for an evening showing of New Moon next weekend. That in and of itself may prove this week of deer and camo overdose to be well worth it. I'll let you know how it goes.

My very own Clark Griswold

"If I woke up in the morning with my head sew to the carpet I wouldn't be more surprised than I am right now."



I'm not going to say I didn't have my doubts about the whole "decorate for Christmas in phases and the hubs will never know what hit him" plan. However, it appears as though my Christmas decorating baby-step maneuver is working...my very own Clark Griswold climbed up onto the roof today and hung our Christmas lights! It was a gorgeous day outside, so we decided to take advantage of the weather and hang the lights before a white squall hits. I braced myself for the storm when I suggested putting the lights up this morning, but fortunately, the hubby likes any activity involving a hammer, nails, electricity, and heights,and he gladly agreed. We opted for two strands of colored Dollar Store lights rather than the 258,000 Italian imported twinkle lights, but it still looks great. I took my chances and opted to irritate the neighbors by lighting the Christmas lights while we were at the grocery store so we could see what they looked like when we got back home after dark. They look "chk chk really nice."



Christmas music: check

Blog decor: check

Christmas china: check

Christmas lights: check

Next on the list: Christmas soaps, candles, and air freshener.
Slow and steady wins the race.

"What has two thumbs and loves the hubby?"

This girl.

I love this guy. He is busy rocking out to Carrie Underwood and cooking away for me in the kitchen. Spaghetti complete with parmesean cheese and garlic bread and The Office at 9.



He is my hero. Hands down.

Shoot. Just heard "What the?!? ...Lucy, you have some 'splaining to do!" coming from the kitchen. He must have found out I swapped our regular dishes out for the Christmas china. Told you I do it in phases. Nice and easy. ;)

Bueller....Bueller....Bueller....

Thought I'd work to keep the pattern going- update only once a week detailing why I haven't updated more than once a week.

First of all, may I introduce the true culprit behind my lack of blogging: the Twilight series. I have put off reading these books for the past 3 years since my mom recommended the first one, and at a weak moment after seeing the movie (gasp!) I ran to the store, bought the first book, then planted myself on the couch for 7 days until I had read all 1,800 some pages. In fact, I may or may not have become so desperate to read the last book that I forfeited a week's worth of lunch groceries (consuming only leftover Tootsie Rolls and Starburst at the noon hour) to buy it in hardback.


(*disclaimer: The rumored "great pregnancy hair" phenomena has yet to grace me with its presence. Rather, I have been stuck with frizzalicious hair that resembles nothing of the flowing locks I keep reading about in all these pregnancy books. So give a girl a break, and don't judge me and my frizzy ponytail.)

I have also been busy growing. A diet of kefir, chips, and salsa combined with an exercise routine consisting of sitting in one place reading about the adventures of Bella and Edward for hours on end will do that to you. Being pregnant helps too.



Due to said growth, I have also been busy shopping with my mother in law for stretchy pants and shirts that could house a small country. She spoiled me and wardrobe beyond recognition. I could not be more grateful, as I was hitting the bottom of the "fat clothes" barrel and had moved next door to the hubby's side of the closet, raiding his flannel shirt collection any time I needed to leave the house.



In addition to becoming a rather rotund Twilight fan, I have also been busy celebrating the hubby's 24th birthday! He was thrilled to see the Jeep Jogger stroller my parents gave him, and does not stop playing the XBox 360 Elite his parents gave him unless I whine at just the right decible for an extended period of time. Clearly, a birthday present success. I gave him an outfit for our little baby so our child will be fully prepared to sit next to Dad next fall in all the high fasion of a gym teacher in sweatpants as they cheer on their favorite teams. The hubs could not have been more excited.





It was a busy week for us, but seeing as how I am depressingly out of Twilight books to read, I should be getting around to blogging more often. Until then...enjoy the Christmas music and decor. It's all done in an effort to delay my obsessive compulsive need to decorate early. I have been dropping hints to the hubs about breaking out the silver bells, to which he replied: "You can decorate your blog all you want, but you're not decorating the house." Don't worry. It's all a part of my plan. First the Christmas music. Then the blog. Then the house. I ease him into it, and two weeks from now when he comes home from work to an indoor winter wonderland, he doesn't know what hit him. ;)