to-MAY-to, to-MAH-to

Yeah. that's right. tomato. as in "I was just kidding when I said we would go apple-picking and make all sorts of delicious baked good for the next few days... I really meant that the orchard is run by a bunch of fuckernuts and forgot to spray so the apples were bad and by the way no one was there to run the market cause they were busy with a funeral so we had to go to a different farm 10 miles down the road and get to pick TOMATOES. Tomatoes that were mostly fallen off the vines and riddled with small gnatty bugs and covered in a deep, mushy, mud, which you would surely decide you need to stomp through and run very very fast in opposite directions from me in."


you know.. TOMATOES.


SO yeah... apple picking was a bust yesterday. and now I have us some 2 pounds of tomatoes that I have no freaking idea what to do with because all I've been thinking about for weeks is making APPLE BREAD????


something tells me that tomato bread just won't be the same.

I'm thinking I can pawn some off at Bunco tonight, but seriously... then I have to carry tomatoes to the other side of the neighborhood, and to be quite honest.. I got my fill of trying to carry a bag of tomatoes, take pictures of my darling sweet baby and quickly waddle (my version of running these days) after aforementioned sweet baby girl as she sprinted away through fields of mud, bugs, and squishy red tomatoes. I'm so over those damn tomatoes right now, I don't even want to think about cooking them tonight. yeah. tomatoes.


So in other news... life has been carrying on.


I've been happy to read other mommy-blogs lately, cause it seems there's an outbreak of two year olds being.. well.... TWO all over the place. This makes the competitive bitch in me so very happy, cause I've been feeling like a failing piece of shit lately. wait.. did I say FAILING? I mean FLAILING. hmmmph. same thing.


Rhena is a true delight, and I would never talk bad about her... at least not with anyone who doesn't have established that I love this child with every ounce of my living body and soul. but let's face it... some days are harder than others. and some times during those some days, I question if I truly could have missed the seven signs of the impending apocalypse, and what, oh WHAT did I do to deserve the personal visit from Satan?

I fancy parenting a 2 yr old to be somewhat like taking care of bi-polar patients. and I'm not trying to be cutting or sarcastic by saying that... I really do think there must be some similarities. the outbursts are unpredictable, and generally unwarranted... (well except for the basic existing conditions that she's two and cutting some bitch-ass molars, oh, and can't fully communicate what she's thinking and that's probably frustrating, and well you know... the sun is or isn't out, so that can set her off as well...)

but yeah. some days I wonder if the Johnson house is going to be one less in the census by the end of the day. And then.. hormones all askew that they are.. I begin to feel like *I'm* the shithead cause what the hell am I doing so wrong that my child clearly HATES ME SO..... and no one ELSE seems to truly believe they gave birth to a category 5 tropical storm who just so happens to also be related to some main characters in Dante's Inferno.

and then as quick as I can run to the bathroom for another good ole fashioned round of morning sickness (wait.. did I say morning sickness?? I meant ENTIRE PREGNANCY SICKNESS), my little boogie woogie can turn on a dime and be so fucking adorable I could just eat her up and I dunno... FORGET that my ears are still ringing and that last kick she delivered will probably leave a bruise?

anyways... like I said, it's good to see that there's some other kids out there that are being two for their parents, too. the more "reality" I see out there, the less likely I am to seriously consider putting The One Within back where I got it. And the less I consider THAT, my friends.. the more likely that Troy and I will remain happily married.


take care, gang...

break the seal

hey gang....


I swear I'm still here... just been slow to the take lately.


not a whole lot going on.. though I guess enough has been going on to keep me from actually getting online and posting.


My teaching CCD started last week, Rhena's been running around like a chicken.. the One Within has been getting bigger... and time just keeps a tickin'.

today we had a failed attempt at apple picking, but since this is a lame break-the-seal kind of post, I'll save today's recap for tomorrow.

right now, I'm tired.. thinking about puking, and have to get caught up on last night's episode of Flavor of Love. so tomorrow.... more tomorrow.

And then there were two

no gang.. I did not have the baby yet. relax. we still have another 7 weeks to go!



what I mean to say is... then there were two.. as in two years gone by.


Two years ago yesterday is when the monster was born. no longer an unidentified kicking object in my womb.... I had my very own living, kicking, screaming, pooping and eating baby GIRL in the world.

Hard to believe that Rhena is two years old.

hard to believe because there's times I feel as if she is 56... and I'm her staddababba counterpart as we make our way through the day... kavetching about the heat and oohing and aahing at pretty things.

hard to believe because I swear it was just yesterday that I was wondering if I'd ever even meet the right guy to marry, let alone want to raise children with him.

hard to believe cause in these past two years, I have never been so dead tired and alive at the same time.


yes... life with Boogie can do that to you.



Part of me would like to write a letter to my baby, but we all know I won't ever ever let her read this trash I spew on here... at least not until she's like 40 and starting to date. so with that in mind, I will not leave you with a long monologue of my thoughts for Rhena. I will, however... say that thanks to Rhena.. I'm no longer afraid.

Two years ago, if anyone asked me, I would have told them I was shit scared of having a girl. To me.. girls meant trouble. and emotions. and makeup and dance classes and really fucking expensive weddings.... to name a few things.

turns out I was probably just shit scared of having a BABY... cause even now when I think about it, it intimidates me.

But yet.. with Rhena... those imaginary and predestined fears never amounted to much. I mean.. sure... I still have fears.. like the idea of her starting school, and the day that will come when she won't give her mama a kiss.. or worse yet, when she becomes just like me... a staunchly independent headstrong young woman dead set on going out on her own.

But my fears of having a girl never really came about, because I didn't have a girl. I had a Rhena. and perhaps if I were a better writer I could articulate what having a Rhena is like... but the truth is... I don't want to.

Like any parent.. the relationship I have with my child is unique and quite a precious commododity. and while part of me wants to tell every damn soul about it.. another big part wants to hold and and squeeze it, and never have to share it with anyone cause I want it all for myself.

so yes.. two years ago, I had myself a Rhena, and I am no longer afraid. I'm no longer afraid, cause in the past two years, with her kisses and her hugs and her tears and her sweet sweet moments of quiet.... Rhena has showed me that no matter what happens.. she's my baby, I'm her mama, and together we can get through anything.


Here's to another wonderful year of Rhena.....

Just a drop

it may not be much.... but Boogie peed one tiny drop of pee on the big girl toilet today.


PFC.


(pretty fucking cool)



in other news, more scandal is to be had with insurance and zofran. apparently there is NO federal regulation that states that a patient can only receive X-amount of the puke-soother in Z-amount of time. My insurance are just cheap ass lying motherfuckers trying to save a dime. did I mention lying? and cheap? fuckers.


so whatever. I've been on a different med this past 2 weeks, and things started off super groovy. I actually had 9 days in a row without puking. then two days in a row of massive hurls. Then another 4 days off from puking, only to be hit up like a hungover grad student today.

yes... I puked. yes.... it was nasty. as in leftover-baklava-from-this-weekend's-greek-festival-out-my-nose nasty. told you..... nasty.

and who knew that one bite of a hotdog could produce THAT much vomit??? surely not I. well.. maybe I did, but seriously.. what normal person thinks about shit like that? wait... don't answer that.


in other news.. I put on a pair of jeans today that I used to wear after rhena was born. and they fit me. I find it slightly disturbing that what used to be a regular part of my wardrobe for about a year now currently fits a woman who is seven months pregnant. perhaps I should make a better effort after this thing comes out on getting back into shape. one that isn't santa-like, that is.


but whatever... I'll deal with that in roughly 8 weeks. right now I'm dealing with the fact that Boogie-child is turning TWO. Boogie-child-made-a-drop-of-pee-pee-on-the-big-girl-potty is turning TWO!!!!! How in hell we both made it this far I'll never know... but I'm sure glad we're still together. I really do love that kid.

more to come in the following days as I prep for the buggy-butterfly-garden-stepford-extravaganza party, and attempt to use fondant icing for the first time. oh, and you know... work on not puking and stuff.

peace out!

Remembering One

I've made mention before that i was going to take part in the 2996 movement.


This is a small effort on my part to pay tribute to one.... just ONE of the too many persons that died on September 11th five years ago.


Robert T. Twomey is dead now because of the terroist attacks on the World Trade Center.

He was 48 years old, and is survived by his wife Marie and their two sons. There was a very nice write up of him in Newsday and due to my hormonal state, I doubt I could do much better.


I can't do the justice here that Mr Twomey deserves. When I think of losing my husband, or worse, Rhena and my unborn child losing their father... I get angry. and this post shouldn't be about anger. it should be about remembering just one of the many great lives that were still on this earth on September 10, 2001.

one by one... they shall not be forgotten.

Robert Twomey is not forgotten.

Rest in peace, sir. I believe I would have liked you.

counting down

yeah.. so I've been a lame blogger lately. my bad.


anyways....

it's officially september, which means I've been in high gear getting ready for the next 3-4 months.

right now my dining room table has a mix of packages that I have yet to write thank you's for, the favors for rhena's upcoming birthday party... all the gear for me to make two very fabulous butterfly cakes (including some fondant and icing dyes) for said birthday party, favors for the christmas social, and about 6 other projects I'm also currently working on.


the belly continues to grow as the weeks begin to pass. I'm now down to nine weeks, which is a HELL of a lot better than 9 months left.



as for me personally.. I feel pretty good... just not very chatty. I think it's that nesting thing, cause I've been organizing and cleaning and THROWING things away. but in the same token.. for all that's been going on... I have nothing to say. well, other than I'm positive that this is a girl. I mean, I have no ultrasounds to prove it, but I just have that feeling it's going to be another girl.

I HAVE been enjoying Rhena... after all.. who couldn't? trust me.. it's not all roses, though. she may be one hell of a cute kid, but lately when she's pissed off... EVERYONE knows about it. her fits are somewhat akin to the lyrics from Johnny Cash's "boy named Sue" where he talks about kicking like a mule and biting like a crocodile....and those moments are definitely difficult. but like any stage.. I tell myself that this too shall pass.

here's the boogie herself in a non-about-to-turn-two-screaming-fit. like I said.. she sure as hell CAN be cute.


but really that's it. CCD is starting up again, and stepford is all abuzz with parties and baby showers and bunco and dinner invites. and me... well... I just have a lot more cleaning to do.

All is well

just wanted to post quickly to let y'all know that all is well here in Johnson-ville.


the only impact we had from the hurricane was a slightly cool front (today's high is only 75... quite the delicious temperature compared to the 90+ we've been having) oh, and a little rain yesterday. no nothing to sneeze at.


as for me personally... I am now on a new anti-nausea med, which seems to be working... as I have not officially thrown up since monday. Thanks to all for the well wishes, really. I do appreciate them all!


side effects have been putting me through the ringer, as I have experienced dead-tired drowsiness as well as restless twitchiness. this is day 3 on the med, though, so I think my body is just about getting used to it.


there are and were a lot of special days that happened this week... Troy and I celebrated our third anniversary. so weird to be saying that. part of me feels like Troy and I are old souls that have been together forever, so three years feels like nothin'. but yet... there's really times when it feels like just yesterday we were holding hands at the alter as we exchanged our vows.

but maybe that's the makings of a good marriage... that mix of old-souls and new-love? I know it works for me.


speaking of work... my brother and sister-in-law have been married for ten years today. kudos to them for making it look easy.

another good thing about today is our dear friend Liam (star and total baby heart-throb of Raising Liam) turns TWO today. Rhena's had a crush on Liam before I even knew she was a Rhena, so you know this kid is handsome.


so there you have it. birthdays, anniversaries, new drugs, and no hurricanes. all is well!


oh, and for the files of you-KNOW-I-have-to-share-this-cause-I'm-always-talking-about-it.....

I'm pooping again! not sure if it's the change in meds or the kick-ass date rolls I got in a package from one of my favorite bloggers yesterday... but I had my first non-popcorn shit since like March today.

amen, I say.. all IS well!!!!!!

Trying to be positive

ok.

I know I've bitched and moaned on here several times about the number of medications I've been having to take to keep the puking *somewhat* at bay. I REALLY don't like having to take 10 pills a day, but I REALLY don't like puking regularly even more.

well, my insurance people have decided to cut my supply of my main puke pills.... my zofran. They say that I've already hit my allotted quantity for this month, and I will not be granted another refil until September 10th.

what this means is that the TWENTY pills I was given on August 10th are to last me until September tenth. did I mention I have been prescribed to take this pill every 6-8 hours?


other interesting facts are that this pill costs an EXUBERANT amount of money, and there is no generic form of it available in the USA. I shit you not... for one refil, AFTER insurance.. I'm paying $50. ready for the sick part? if I had no insurance, this pill would be costing me approximately $1300 for twenty pills.

so BEING the cheap bitch WITH insurance that I am... I have been regulating and stretching my perscriptions out as much as I can. I often only take two or even ONE zofran a day, in hopes that I can make the bottle last a whole 14 days, versus the 5 to 7 days, if I were taking it every 6-8 hours. because in addition to this $50 a refil I pay for this pill, I'm also paying $50 a month for my prevacid, $30/month for regalin, and $45/month for my prenatal. and if you ask me, I'd rather be shelling out $100/month for zofran instead of $200. cause again.. me. cheap.

now mind you, while stretching these pills out does help in the financial realm, it ends up having a negative impact on my puking. the trick is that even when taking the full dosages, I'm still puking, rest assured. except.. when I am cutting back on the zofran, I just puke more often, and the sessions are more acidic and violent.

so now... thanks to dear ole blue cross.... I am only allowed to have 20 pills to cover a span of 30-31 days. THAT'S LESS THAN ONE PILL A DAY, GANG!!!!

can't I get a fucking BREAK?????


call me a whiney bitch if you must, and I'm fine with that. please do not mistake my frustration with all this vomiting to be any sign that I'm not appreciative of the life growing within me, either. I'm blessed.. I know I am.

but before I went on the zofran, I was puking A LOT. like 4-5x a day a lot. and it sucked, and it hurt, and poor baby Rhena had to watch me get sick and hug public toilets and curl up in a ball on our own floor from the wretching and pain.

I only have ten weeks left til I'm at my official due date. and I know I'm in the home stretch, but man oh man.... I'm tired. I'm trying to be positive.. I really am.. but I'm tired, and I just want to hold my baby already and make this puking go away. but unfortunately, the only thing going away is my access to my pills.


so forgive today's break-down. I know shit could be worse. and we all have our hardships to endure. it's just that it's hard to be positive when I know I still have at least another 10 weeks left.

Good Intentions

so I honestly think I had good intentions to blog about something interesting today. In FACT.. I distinctly remember that while cleaning my kitchen counter this morning, I had one of those "ah-HAH!!!! now THAT would be a good blog topic!!" moments.

don't ask me what in hell that topic WAS... as now that it's 5 hours later.. I have no idea.

I WILL share that I spontaneously puked this morning... Now THAT was a treat! Not!!


yeah.. This morning was such a weird experience, I can't even be pissed or upset about it.

so there I was, in the post-morning glow of some quality time with Little Einsteins... (yes, this morning was ANOTHER play of the "duck duck June" episode where we're taking a trip to bring duh-key home, bring ducky back home to his FAA-MAH-lee.... riveting story lines, gang... let me tell you)

so yeah anyways, the show's over, rhena's running around downstairs like she owns the joint, and I'm talking on the phone to my Twinkie. I take a sip of my coffee as my friend relates yet another tragic tale of what a moron his sister-in-law can be.. and all of a sudden..

HUH!

cough!

shppplegggh!


who-the-what-theFUHHH????? ....more coughing/gagging/puking ensues.

thankfully, most of it ended back into the coffee cup (thank GOD it was near empty), just a little on the coffee table, and the rest hurriedly into the toilet.


but seriously.. who DOES THAT??? I was like my own little fraternity party.. taking a shot of something nasty, thus causing me to spit it back out, thus triggering my drunken gag reflex, thus puking all over. except, well.. the coffee wasn't nasty, and I sure as hell wasn't drunk. (not saying we don't party here on monday mornings at 8:40am or anything.. but really... me in my pj's puking coffee lacks that certain 'party-girl' image I had a few years ago.)


so have I officially nominated myself as the poster-blog for birth-control yet? I'm SUCH a glamorous preggo.... I know I just make EVERYONE want to rush out and have kids.


so yeah. that's how my morning sort of started. STILL can't remember if/what I was going to say. I think it was a confession of some sorts, but honestly.. right now I got nothin'.


ok. happy monday, then....

Crapple-bagger

yeah, so it's like quarter after TEN, and I'm just now remembering to say hi and happy birthday to a few folks.


Rachie, my cousin... who will ALWAYS be older than me....


Aunt Yvonne, my Godmother.....


and my friend Diana's little boy TUCKER.




anyways... Happy birthday to them... and a very happy UN-birthday to YOU.


ps.. 4 more months til Christmas... whe-hoo!

Clap your hands everybody!

you know you're a bit off the normal path to mommyhood when you're driving in traffic and it brings you great joy to see your daughter clapping her hands in time to the beat of a metallica song.


anyways...


been busy this week.... between unpacking, getting back into a routine, and cleaning the house I feel pretty worn out. the good news is that I did manage to get SOME things off to the post office, all of rhena's birthday invites and envelopes are printed, stuffed and stamped, the new baby's christening reception has been figured out in terms of location and menu etc (still have to figure out the cake and centerpieces, invites and yeah.. HAVE the baby), ordered all the stuff for the favors for rhena's birthday party, met with and joined a new mom's morning out-slash-playgroup, and knocked off another doctor's appointment.

phew!


I think the week off from being home let shit backpile enough and me rest enough that I'm just chopping through things like wildfire. It feels good, though.... I like that feeling of accomplishment at the end of the day. helps me justify the nap I'm about to take, anyway. ;)



________

ps... "ice cuke" is how rhena says "ice cream". don't ask. this is the same kid that pronounces "chicken soup" as "pee pee puke". that's just how we roll over here.

Rugrats and Tidgets

ok, I'm just kidding.... this is not another post about my tidget. I just thought I'd throw that out there since so many of you seemed to be drawn to the word.


(you gotta admit... it's a pretty cool name given the popular ones going out there. Perhaps not exactly one for use in the porn industry, but for middle-of-the-road folks like myself who perhaps aren't as FREE with their sexuality, nor clinical with naming body parts... it has a nice tinkle to it.) (and yes, that pun WAS intended!!!)


anyways.. I said this wasn't going to be about my tidget, cause lord knows y'all are gonna hear enough about it in about 2 1/2 months or so....


no.


today is the dawning of a new era here in Johnsonville.


The Boogie slept in a big girl bed last night.


all night.


without falling out.


or waking up.


(or trying to sneak out the window to head to the party down at the neighbor's house, but I imagine this and half the other shit I just mentioned are coming soon enough....)



I just wanted to bask in the glow for a little while.


in fact.. that's what I'm gonna do. so tune in next time for your regularly scheduled bitching about backpain, a ripped contact and relatives who annoy the shit out of you by telling you that you can't possibly only have two children if this next one isn't a boy.


today.. we celebrate! ice cuke for everyone! (or at the very least... ice cuke for Rhena.. and ice CREAM for everyone else!)

Not just about hate for Nascar and Roids

you know... every once in a while, I actually do a little something called SHARING here at the Fever.


well.. I mean, I share my thoughts on stupid shit all the time, there's no question about that. but sometimes, like right about now... I get the urge to let my readers peek deep inside this cavernous brain of mine and realize what a fucked up place it can be.

Last night I was feeling particularly hormonal. call it a side effect of being a woman, or this pregnancy thing I have going on, by the chains in the brain were clinking, and gosh darn it.. I was a time bomb ready to explode.

let me back track.


when I was pregnant with Rhena, Troy and I lived in Nevada. with NO family around. no mom, dad, cousins or who-have-yous to pop by for brunch or dinner or holidays, or you know... be in a cheering section when it came time to push a baby out of my crotch.

Now believe me when I say that I am definitely not the kind of gal that wants people being in a delivery room when things inside of me are trying to come out. Sure.. I can manage peeing with the door open, and out of survival, I've become fine with crapping and puking with the door open so I can keep an ear on Rhena... but BABIES??? out of my TIDGET??? yeah.. that gets a strong round of HELL NO!

so whatever... yadda yadda yadda... no family around, so it's just me and troy and a bunch of contractions, drugs, puking, monitors and hospital staff and eventually some knives and staples to get Rhena to come out. And life was good. Troy and I brought our girl-monster home and were able to figure her out on our own, without any family telling us how wrong we were doing shit. but yet... we had no one there to help us, and we probably did everything wrong. good sides and bad sides to everything, I know, and I swear I have a point here... but remember, we're in my brain, and there's no straight lines in here.

so ANYWAYS.... last night, Troy's talking about his work situation, and for once, things seem to be going really well. the fledgling start-up he began working for 2 1/2 years ago is on the verge of potentially going big time (which could mean WE'RE on the verge of getting a really nice payoff, but we're not playing the wish-this-would-happen game). and the sorta short of it is that he says that things are going to be crazy for the next 3-4 months.


so let me tell you something. things are ALWAYS crazy with Troy's work. the hours he works in a day are freaking ridiculous. I mean, sure... he does have nights where he can relax and watch a movie or cut out early, but more often than not, I only know my husband's face with a soft soft glow of a computer screen in front of it.

but again.. I'm digressing.


so he's telling me about how crazy shit's going to get in the next couple of months, and the One Within starts kicking me. as in.. yeah, no SHIT things are gonna get crazy in the next couple of months... did you SEE the belly I have and realize that we have to throw a birthday party for a two year old, and halloween and have a BABY and the christmas social and christmas and oh yeah let's get the new kid baptized?????

so I'm a clinkity clanking in my brain about all the stuff that's going on as Troy's telling me that things are going to get crazy. if you want to have an idea of the stress and anxiety that one little statement from Troy can bring me... think Titanic, think the Captain, and think about him hearing "hey jackass... you just hit an iceberg really fast in the middle of nowhere and we're sinking".

if you're STILL not connecting the dots, let me tell you that when troy says things are going to be crazy, he'll be working from 6am-6:30pm, come home for an hour to say hi and shovel food in his mouth, then go back to work til midnight -2am for like 3 or 4 months straight. it means that plans that have been set in stone for over three months (like a trip to Washington DC) will suddenly be in jeopardy of being cancelled for lack of him being able to watch our child for more than 2 hours in a row.

now I dunno about you, but I've been keeping track, and I'm supposed to have another BABY coming out of me within the next 3 months.... right around or smack in the middle of crazy-ville.

to be fair... with my mom not going back to work this year, I do need to say that she will be coming down to Stepford for the last week or so of my pregnancy so she can be with Rhena when it's time to go produce another Johnson. I'm very happy about this, as I know no one else (save troy or myself) would be able to care for her in a way I want, and since I'm also going to need Troy by my side to calm my shit down when I attempt to give birth... la madre is the prime choice for taking care of Boogie. so I have a silver lining.

but yet... hormonal, irrational pregnant me started worrying that with the combination of his work getting crazy and my mom being here to pick up some sluff.... would my plans for having troy get me through birth be shackled by his boss (who, by the way, thinks the answer for everything is to pay for a nanny and cleaning service to make up for the husband not being around) will troy have to do a code drop instead of coming to the hospital? would his boss assume that since my mom is here in town that Troy would be at his disposal 24-7?

so... gingerly... I tell troy that while I'm totally cool with him working 20 hours a day for the next 2 1/2 months... I told him that I hope he understands that that's going to change when it's time for the baby. Now in MY mind.. I'm thinking that he should just say.. "well no DUH, you irrational hormonal pregnant girl! I'll be right by your side whenever you need me"... but I got silence. two long minutes of silence followed by "well, what the hell does THAT mean? things aren't going to magically CHANGE when the baby gets here you know"

oh boy.


three super-picker-upper papertowels full of snot later, we come to the understanding that *I* was just needing to hear that no matter how much money is dangling as a carrot in front of us with his work thing, Troy will be there for the entire birth process, and *Troy* finally understood I wasn't asking him to only work 8 hours a day or questioning his desire to be a part of this baby coming out.

the bottom line is we both feel the same way, and pretty much always HAVE felt the same way about the birthing thing, but because I asked about it, he figured maybe we DIDN'T feel the same way. but me being me... I just needed to hear it again.


you know... it's funny when I write these long posts like this... by the time I'm done typing out my long convoluted thoughts out, even *I* wonder what the hell is wrong with me... which would probably explain why I don't type out my real thought process too often. it's kinda like going from A to B but going from A to Z and all the other letters in reverse first. my brain just seems to always take the long way.

oh well. I guess my point is that the home-stretch jitters are starting to kick in. I really DO spend too much time thinking about whether or not I can really push a baby out of my tidget. and handle being a mom to two kids, and be a good wife, and be a good friend, and daughter and sister and aunt and all the other shit in between.

hearing some reassurance from Troy was what I needed last night. Of course it didn't help that afterwards we watched a movie about a disfunctional family in north carolina that featured an off-beat pregnant girl whose baby dies in childbirth..... but that's another story.

Home again

hooray hooray.... we're HOME AGAIN!!!


when all is said and done, we had a nice trip to see the inlaws. This does NOT mean I'm not happier than a pig in shit to be home again, though.


Rhena was fantastic for all 14 hours we were driving home, so today she's pretty much getting the run of the house. (what's that? you want to play with the toilet brush cleaner?? oh.. ok!! just don't put it in your mouth!)


today has my plate full with going through mail, paying bills, and beginning the unpacking process. I say process, because Troy won't be helping, and I'll be damned if I try to do it all myself in one day. besides... I have to blog!! and talk to my girlfriends!!! and eat bon bons!!! (cause you KNOW I don't do shit around here like clean toilets or go food shopping or cook and feed anyone)


speaking of toilets.... can I TELL you about the bowling ball I shat out up at the inlaws???

yeah... forget me bitching about popcorn shits. I had about 10 of those popcorn nuggets stuck together and they all decided to get together and come out of my ass at the same time. repeat... AT THE SAME TIME.

let's just say I ended up pushing out a bowling ball the size akin to fred flintstone would use, (and YES... it was rock hard, that fucker!!!) and my poor hiney got a roid the size of a freaking superdome on it for like 2 days.

have YOU ever tried sitting down and making pleasant conversation with your inlaws with a bleeding superdome between your ass cheeks????

trust me.. it AIN'T pretty, and I really deserve a reward of some sorts. or a guest spot on Montel or something. SOMETHING!


In other news.. I only puked TWICE and had three wake-up-choking-on-acid-in-my-throat-nights during the week I was gone.... so that's good. at least God likes to spread out my misery, as none of the fun-fun-fun bodily events happened on the same days. Even the rupturing of mount my-ass-vious happened on a non-puke day! Perhaps a small favor for putting up with 24 hours of non-stop nascar and baseball.

and SPEAKING of Nascar.... troy and I did go out and catch a matinee. (though it cost us $16 for 2 tickets, so I'm not sure if we got matinee prices, those bastids....) but I saw the Will Ferrell Nascar movie. it was stupid, but funny. I happen to like Will Ferrell, though. crazy motherfucker. ( oh, and don't think the irony is lost on me that my one afternoon out alone with my husband during a week-long subjection to everything nascar, and we go see a movie about Nascar. I live for this kind of twisted sense of reality... (ok, actually, I don't... but you have to admit it just figures, you know?))

as for the one within.... it continues to grow. I'm looking pretty big now, and I fear my days of wearing my pink band on my ankle are numbered. Troy... in all his kindness, told me that my ass is getting bigger, too... so that's just greaaaat. oh well, more room for future superdomes, I guess.


alright. I've wasted enough time with babbling here, and I really ought to read some blogs or unpack or something. or clean out all the stuff that died in the fridge when we were gone. yeah. that would be good.


happy monday, gang!

still gone

just a little note to remind you all that the fever is still burning from afar.

I *THINK* Karley and I almost have our act together, and should be hooking up (Maybe??) while I'm up here at Troy's folks' place. time's running out, though, so we'll see.


yetserday troy and I took boogie into chicago. we went to the Shedd Aquarium, where we took a LOT of pictures and Rhena begged to "show me mow-wuh" (yes.. I DO love that she has a jersey accent when it comes to certain words...)


after the fish-o-rama (and dolphins and otters and lizards and other shits that swim) we took a cab over to the Navy Pier. we had some lunch at Bubba Gump's... which was fine enough for a chain. I don't (read can't, else it causes mass-amounts of digestive horrors) eat seafood, so I just had a burger, but I'll admit that Troy's coconut-crusted shrimp looked good.


from there we had some time to kill, so Rhena took a couple of turns on the nerry-go-round. this made everyone happy... rhena for getting to go on, me, for NOT having to go on, and Troy.. for being the hero who let her go on twice.

took a cab back to the train station and railed it back to the homestead. watched yet another game of baseball on tv, and ate some REALLY good sweet corn.

more family-visiting-boating-lollygagging on the horizon for the next couple of days, then we're going to head to Troy's brother's new house on Saturday. we'll visit with him and his fiance, spend the night, and get an early start towards NC on sunday morning.


I've only puked once since I've been here, and woken up a la momma cass style one other time. so not bad.... but we ain't home yet, ya know?

Rhena has taken to waking up SCREAMING in the middle of the night. more on that when we get home, but hopefully not... as I'm praying this is just a weird environment thing going on, and not the beginning of a new trend on our journey to the fantastic 2's. (one more month, by the way... I can't believe boogie's gonna be TWO next month!)


ok. so that's all. I'll upload more pics to my photoblog when we get home... being that blogger isn't letting me do more than the one right now.)

peace out!

out of office

yeah.. so if anyone is actually still checking this; I wanted to let y'all know we're not in stepford anymore.


I woke up at 2:30am yesterday, and finished getting us ready for the drive-o-rama that was to ensue. Thankfully, Troy drove the whole time, so I got to wiggle into a comfortable spot when the baby decided to use my stomach as a punching bag.


all went well, though, and despite dealing with Chicago traffic on a friday afternoon, we got here to Troy's folks in one piece. or three pieces, if you count each one of us.

Rhena was a DOLL the whole time, and was even a good sport when she was clearly uncomfortable after shoving a dried apple piece up her nose. no.. *I* didn't shove the apple up her nose.. SHE did.... and YES.. it did eventually come out about an hour later when she sneezed. oh, and YES... I actually did whip around in my seat fast enough so I could retrieve the apple-booger before it ended up in her mouth. two points for the momma.


I FINALLY ate at a cracker barrel for the first time in like 10 years. I had one egg, 2 pieces of BACON (thick, greasy, glorious dead pig BACON) and a biscuit, and rhena a enjoyed her pancake. The food was good enough.. far better than a MC Donalds... and I'm proud to say that despite all signs pointing toward the inevitable.. I managed NOT to throw up. again.. score points for the momma.

I DO need to explain my fascination with cracker barrel, but now's not the time, as I'm using up rhena's nap time to hide in the basement to type this. oh wait.. I MEANT to say I'm missing some non-stop baseball and nascar coverage by typing, so I ought to get back upstairs....


ought to... but yet the feet drag. (or is it fingers?) either way; I really don't want to be rude, so I'll be ending this soon.

the weather here is fucking gorgeous. (yes.. it warrants a 'fucking')... NO humidity... sun is shining... it's like only 80 or 90 out. I'm almost cold, compared to the humidity oven I've been dwelling in these past few months... but we are taking rhena outside as much as possible. Boating on the lake will also take place, and rumor has it that we're going to take advantage of free babysitting and troy will be taking me on a date while we're here.


so anyways... all is well here. pills are being taken, throwing up is not happening.... and there's an air of relaxation about the house that suggests I may even just go watch some clouds. or eat cake.

have a great weekend, gang... there'll be more when I can; though troy and I are going to try to squeeze in a day trip with boogie into Chicago to do the aquarium. and of course... maybe eat some cake.

again... two points for momma.

Un-buh-loggable

*cricket chirps*







yeah. so that's how things have been around here. Pretty much a whole lotta nothing, gang.

Now that's not to say I haven't been busy; just this past week or so has been the kind of week that you just go through. kinda like treading water. you KNOW your legs are moving, but there's not a whole lot going on.


I think it's a combination of this suck-ass HEAT we've been having, and that I leave for a road trip this coming weekend. We're going up to Nascar-ville... just kidding... I mean to say we're going up to see Troy's folks.

I'm looking forward to it, and THEY are positively gigged that they get to see Rhena.... I'm just not looking forward to the 12+ hour road trip. The good news is that Troy will be with us, so I don't have to worry if we're in the middle of the middle of america and I have to throw up. Troy will keep Rhena safe from the corn and cows.

so that's good. just... bleh. at least that's how I feel today. not sick, thankfully, but not outright fabulous. just bleh.


I imagine I'll find myself busy this week before we depart; gotta get boogster's hair cut, gotta creatively use up all the groceries in the fridge, gotta SERIOUSLY go to the post office and mail the packages that have been plaguing me since the last winner of cze-bingo has been announced.... oh, and there's doctors' appointments to attend this week.

so yeah. good times in the life of Johnson-ville... and I suppose it's a GOOD thing when I don't have much to talk about. at least it means that nothing is terribly going wrong or pissing me off. and THAT'S always a nice way to start the week.

hope you have a good monday. or a Blue Monday.. if you're into wearing themed underwear and stuff. whichever.

peace out!

I'm in a Garden State of Mind

no readers.. I'm not about to get flowery on you. I could still care less about what TYPE of pink flowers my neighbor has. I can see they're pink, and that's all I need to know.

and yes.. I'm the girl in stepford who is HAPPY when it rains, cause then I don't have to feel guilty for not watering the dry spread of straw ... er.. grass we have for a lawn. I SHOULD care more. part of me WANTS to care more.... I just don't.

Now don't get me wrong.. even I have my limits... when our field of glory gets above the knee in height, even I'll drag my pregnant ass out there and mow.... I'd just prefer to leave that to troy. besides.. I got enough shit going on INSIDE this house to be bothered with how my azaleas are doing. (and no, I don't think we even HAVE azaleas.. it's just the only plant I could think of off-hand)

anyways... since it's friday, and i'm lame like that (and I've been puking like a drunk college kid this week) I'd figure I'd spew about another movie troy and I watched last night.

Actually, troy's had a cold this week so has not been working at nights, so we've caught a few movies recently.

the other night we watched the World's Fastest Indian. I was impressed in a sense that I had no expectations, was really only half-interested in watching it, and found it to be entertaining. I enjoyed the character Anthony Hopkins played, and found myself liking his quirkiness. Impressed about the record still standing to this day, too. hmph!

oh.. saw the movie 11:14 earlier in the week. definitely not a GREAT movie, but fun enough for the series of connections a bunch of people had in a small town, and how all their lives were affected at 11:14 one night. a little hokey at times, but it definitely kept me interested. twisty-turny in an I-doubt-this-could-really-ever-happen-but-they're-in-a-small-town-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-so-maybe-it-could kind of way.

last night we finally saw the movie Garden State. not to sound like a heretic for Netflix... but the good thing about it is that troy and I are catching all sorts of off-beat and older films that we would never buy outright, and since both of our asses are pretty much BANNED from rental places like Ballbusters....(I'm horrible about returning movies on time)... again... not to plug netflix, but it works for us and we've caught some interesting shit along the way.

which is nice, cause I dunno if I've said it before, but summer tv sucks ass. so with all the ass suckage on the networks, we've been catching up with our movies.

but once AGAIN I digress.

Garden State. I found myself thinking very much of the early days of troy's and my relationship. if anyone knew troy back then, they would have seen him as a guy sporting a "what the FUCK is going on with her, but I can't help but kinda sorta like her" look on his face. like all the time.

*I* came to the conclusion that anyone that is not from jersey or has not has a meaningful relationship with someone from jersey will probably not like the movie so much (I can honestly see a couple in texas that was born and raised there saying "I just don't get it" throughout the whole movie)

Troy disagreed with me, but what the hell does he really know? he MARRIED a girl from jersey!

and it's not any one thing or things that the girl character in the movie did that scream out.. oh yes! that's so jersey! but yet... I still had this kinship, so to speak... with the movie. and with the characters. it was good. it hit home, in a you-remind-me kind of way. oh, and I really liked the soundtrack.

(by the way, if you have or haven't seen the movie, and then choose to do so... please do not mistake my kinship for the girl with the need to wear protective head gear to work every day, or having a hamster pavilion as big as my living room....)

oh well. that's about it on my end. it's too hot to really even think lately, and adding in my fabulous stomach lately, and well... I think you've got just about all you're gonna get for today.


oh... one last thought. if anyone knows anyone who could have a friend of a friend or any form of connection to a supplier of cheesy tots for my dad.... hook an old man up. I personally haven't had them, but the old man digs them.

peace out.... and happy weekend, gang!

Up then down then up again

bleh.

sorry for the lack of posting lately, all.


I was feeling pretty good for a while (had nine whole days without puking.. hooray!) then I pretty much crashed this weekend.

3 times saturday, twice on sunday, nothing yesterday, and already once today.

I keep telling myself that the meds are (must be.. HAVE TO BE) working in at least SOME capacity... cause I'm taking some high-potent shit, folks! I imagine the mess I'd be if I wasn't taking any meds, and that brings me some solace.

I'm also keeping in mind the fact that the baby seems to be fine and healthy, and all the people out there who, for whatever reason... can not get or have trouble remaining pregnant. The fact that I personally know of some couples in those situations helps keep me in check, I think.

but nonetheless... the puking and midnight acid wake-ups eventually take their toll... physically, mentally and emotionally.

so I feel at a crossroads. I'm not looking for the sympathy vote or anything... cause to be honest, when people start doling out pity for my puking, I feel like a shmuck. Shmuck because of the people that can't get preggo, and shmuck because it's just puke for crying out loud... it's not like the baby or I am dying, you know?

and the over-concern from my mom can be stifling. I often fear mentioning my puking to her because I know she worries. and I'm not going to take that away from her, cause now that I'm a mom to Rhena, I TOTALLY GET IT... no momma ever wants to see their baby (no matter how old the baby is) be sick.

but yet... I feel the need to say when I have my 'sessions', because they truly do take away my energy, even if for a little while. and when the energy goes... that means shit doesn't get done. like the e-mails, and phone calls, and blog posts, and visits. and cleaning and cooking, and folding the damn laundry, too.

so hear me when I say.. I'm not looking for pity. a little pardoning of my dust, messy bedroom, lack of blogging, and lack of being in touch, maybe.... but not pity.


oh.. and my breath. I know, I know... it's awful, and I'm sorry. I've really been trying to keep the house-of-acid at bay, but I know my throat smells like George Washington's ball sack. Just keep some gum or tic tacs handy if you plan on seeing me any time soon, ok?

shit sandwich

so yesterday was one of those shit-sandwich kind of days... with really really good bread.


confused?


well, basically, the beginning and END of my yesterday was awesome... minor crap in the middle.


day started off with troy bringing me donuts. cause I said I was craving on. ask for one.. get 12!! how can I NOT love that man???

did some errands, got my back cracked, had some lunch. all good and dandy.

took rhena to the pool. this is where things were not nice.


I mean, the pool was fine and everything, but at one point, when time decided to stand still.. rhena slipped in the kiddie pool and fell backwards into the water.

during this millennium-long second, I saw her entire face, underwater.... looking up with fear. blue eyes WIDE open, as was her mouth, inhaling the water.

I hear no sound during this eternity; just her eyes getting bigger as she kept going backwards.

I finally saw my arms slowing snatching her out of the water and holding her like it was the first and last time I ever would.

If a person with no heart was timing us, everything probably happened in three seconds.. but to me... I have seen three years go by faster.


and it's true. I saw myself three years ago, planning my wedding to troy, our actual wedding day, our honeymoon, me going back to work, me quitting my job, me getting pregnant, and every minute of my life with rhena in it since her birth. all of those thoughts and memories crammed in the space between my arms and her tiny tiny precious perfect body... her tiny tiny precious perfect body underwater looking at me, unable to breathe.

Rhena was fine.. she didn't even cry.... coughed once or twice for effect, then was clamoring to be let back down for more splashing. again.. the whole falling, underwater, and me grabbing her took all of about three seconds... but I can honestly say I don't ever recall being so scared in my entire life.

we stayed at the pool for another hour or so.. then slowwwwly walked home (ole grey mare ain't what she used to be anymore). had a great evening together and with troy, and even spent some quality down-time with my girlfriends down the street.


oh yeah!! even had a PACKAGE waiting on the front step when we got home!!! full of FUN STUFF!! things! for me!!! but more on that another time.


so whatever. yesterday at the pool shook me up, but all in all... in a good way. It made me thankful for my diligent habits with rhena. what if I WASN'T watching her and soaking her cuteness in? who would have pulled her out of the water? It made me appreciate her life, her place in MY life, and even so much for me to appreciate the One Within. maybe sometimes it takes the idea of loss to remind you how good you have things.

I'd LIKE to think I don't need a lot of three-second-near-death experiences to remind me how generally fucking good my life is. I certainly don't go LOOKING for them to happen. But... the bottom line is that sometimes shit DOES happen.... and you can either bitch and moan about the shit, or enjoy the really really good bread it's served on.


have a great weekend, gang.