Burn, baby, burn.

Last night was burnination at Goose and Lily's. It's always a good time. I feel like it was a good time x 1000 this time though. Maybe it was because we hadn't all been together in such a long time. Maybe it was because a few more people let loose. Who knows. All I know is that it was literally the latest I'd stayed up since I've been preggers. I'm paying for it with a hurting back and sore feet today, but it was definitely worth it.

Chris is having some friends over today to watch a hockey game, so I'm going to make myself scarce by hitting up the Mall of Georgia and tackling some office organization. (There are so many random papers and books in here!)

I'm looking forward to this nice, relaxing day. And I'm hoping to find a swimsuit as cute as this one in Martha's size...

Screw you, screw.

So, we bought a new doorknob for the door that goes out to the garage. The other one officially broke. Unfixable. So, I bought the doorknob and dead bolt to go with it. Got it home. Started putting it on. Well, now one of the screws is stuck, stripped as all get out. (Most likely the screw was in the wrong screw hole - shorter screw needed to go there - but it was too late before I realized it.)

And don't even get me started with how totally jacked up and old that door and door frame is anyway. I took the metal plate off that's around the deadbolt and the wood under there is completely rotting off. And the door frame is splitting in about 3 billion places. So ridiculous.

So, the screw is 100% stuck in the wrong place. We tried all the tricks in the book to get it out. We even went and got, as a last resort, one of those stripped screw removal kit things. I've just spent about an hour and a half working on it and only managed to get about 2 full turns unscrewed. It's just not budging.

So, in my frustration, I left a note for Chris (he's out with friends tonight and won't be home until I'm in bed) that says "I GIVE UP!!! The door is now your responsability. I'm stressing myself out!"

I hope that screw dies a horrible death and goes to screw hell.

Now I have to go do homework, there are 3 loads of laundry that need to be done, we haven't vacuumed in about a month, and I just threw Turtle about 10 feet down the hallway for pissing me off.

I kinda just want to cry.

Turts

Turtle, who we call Turts most of the time, is about to get his 100th whoopin of the day.

Seriously. Here's what I've endured this evening:

1. Scratching on the pack and play.
2. Scratching on my new crocs.
3. Playing with Taco in the bassinet.
4. Scratching at the office door.
5. Scratching at the bathroom closet door.
6. Scratching at the other bathroom closet door.
7. Getting on top of the wobbly shelf above the toilet.
8. Knocking over my cup of make-up brushes.
9. Trying to escape into the garage 3 times.
10. Scratching on the kitchen rug.
11. Pulling batting (pillow stuffing) out of the bag.
12. Getting into the office blinds.
13. Getting into the other office blinds.

I mean, I think I could probably go on forever. And that's just one evening. I also can promise you that when I go to bed in a few minutes and shut my door, he's going to scratch at the carpet outside the door continuing to dig a hole and ruin it.

Precious, isn't he?

What a croc!

On Saturday after baby shower #1, Chris and I went to the Mall of Georgia to waste some time and then go see the Valentine's Day movie. (It was cute, btw.) After walking my 29 week pregnant self around the mall for what seemed like an eternity, my feet were going to fall off. We were headed to the food court and what did I see? The Crocs kiosk.

Now, I've always been anti-crocs because of the hideousness that is a rubbery, oversided, stupid looking shoe. But these were not regular crocs. These were cute crocs. As soon as I slipped one on, Chris asked, "How does it feel?" But he didn't even have to wait for an answer. The look on my face was enough for him to know that I'd soon be digging through my purse for my wallet to buy 2 pair of these little pieces of heaven. (Buy one, get one half off!)

I am no longer anti-crocs. Sure, I might still poke fun at the people wearing the old clunky ones with socks, but I can now sympathize with all achey feet people of America just wanting some relief.

In my best old person - trying to imitate the Life Alert commercial - voice...
"All. Pregnant. Women. Should. Have. Crocs."

Valentine

It's almost Valentines Day. Chris and I aren't really big into the whole thing, so we usually don't get each other gifts. We're just planning on trying out a new restaurant called Burger Club. Anyway, he's a little bit of history in picture form...

Money Mirage

Chris and I were put through the ringer this weekend for a mirage of money. Let me give a quick back story… Chris interviewed for a job at an awesome company in Atlanta. We have a few friends that work there and they always talk about how much they love the company, how they’re always treated fair, and they actually miss not going into work when they’ve got a day off. How strange is that? Most people go to work every day wishing it was time for the weekend again. So, obviously this is a good company to work for.

So, Chris interviewed with the company – twice. We waited a good while for background checks to be completed and references to be called. Finally, he got an offer. They offered him a reasonable salary and the health insurance is OUTRAGEOUSLY GOOD. I’m talking – saving us thousands a year good. Chris went to turn in his 2 week notice to his current employer only to have his boss beg him to stay. He offered him a raise, but the number was too low to justify staying. Chris told his boss another number that would be the lowest amount he’d accept to get him to reconsider leaving. Chris and I went back and forth all weekend wondering if we were doing the right thing…sacrificing happiness for a hefty salary….only to be told this morning that they won’t be able to meet his salary requirement. The final salary they offered him was actually kind of insulting. Although we’re happy that Chris gets to have a more enjoyable job without having to take a pay cut, I’m now grieving for the money carrot that was dangled in front of me. Had I never been teased with the possibility of having an extra $700 (or so) extra a month, I wouldn’t be so bummed about the outcome. Do you know what you can do with that kind of money?!

So, Chris is starting his new job on the 22nd. He’ll be happy, and we’ll be in the same financial boat that we’ve always been in. I can’t complain. Rather, I shouldn’t complain, but I am a little bit. They say that money can’t buy happiness. It sure does relieve a lot of stress though. And less stress means I’m happier. So, doesn’t money kind of buy happiness?

The decision is made, so I’m dealing. I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that Chris will be able to move up in the company, stay there a long time, and that they are able to give acceptable yearly raises. Until more money is being made by one of us, it’s just a fact of life that our debt will take a considerable amount of time to go away. Ugh.

Weekend Away

Chris and I went with Zach and Anna to one of Zach's family's cabins this weekend. It's right over the border into South Carolina (I think). They have a lake house and a river house. I'm not sure which one this was. I was just trying to concentrate on not getting car sick on the hour and a half drive.

We spent the weekend playing Jenga, Uno, Catch Phrase, and Scategories. We also watched a lot of HGTV, took naps, and took turns cooking dinner.

It was a very relaxing weekend. I just wish it hadn't been too cold to go outside and enjoy the scenery. Here are a few pictures...

Last night, she said...

Since Chris and I aren't LOST fans, we went and got our taxes done last night. If it wasn't bad enough being told that we have to shell out $600 to the good ol' government (due 2 weeks before we have a baby - awesome), we went to Publix afterward to get subs for dinner (because they're cheap, and now we're broke), I was asked by the lady making my sandwich when I was due. I said "April." Her eyes got all kinds of buggin out of her head, she took another look at my belly and then she asked if I was having twins. Instead of jumping over the plexiglass and pulling her hair net right over her face in an attempt to suffocate the rudeness out of her, I laughed it off and just added it to list of things I wish hadn't been said to me that day.

In case you were wondering - we OWE money because of Obama's "Making Work Pay" tax credit. Apparently, because we're a married couple who both work and make a certain amount of money, we get screwed. If one of us didn't have a job, we'd be golden. Sorry we're not bums, Mr. President.

According to H&R Block Tax Lady, next year we'll be ok. I won't be working the whole year, plus we get money for Martha. She said we can expect around a $1000 or so refund.

I realized today how my wants are becoming less and less important as time passes. I would love to have a wedding band to go with my engagement ring. I would love to have a new TV for the bedroom. I would love to have a nice camera to take awesome pictures of Martha. I would love to be able to re-tile our shower because it's all kinds of ugly and 4 tiles are falling off. I would love to put hardwood or laminate floors down in the living room. The list goes on and on. But the reality is that we owe money to Home Depot for our new HVAC unit we put in earlier this year. We owe my parents lots and lots for covering out butts when we had to replace our sewage line on the day we moved into the house. And we owe a good bit to our BOA credit card. It will take years upon years to pay these things off. The luxury of a wedding ring, a flat screen tv, etc. will have to wait....probably forever.

An open letter.

Martha,
Listen, baby girl, this isn’t cool.
What did I ever do to you to make you want to treat me this way?
Nausea, exhaustion. These things were supposed to be first trimester woes ONLY. What’s this business of it all kicking in for the third trimester, as well? And speaking of kicking...let’s keep it to an outward kick. I don’t love the feeling of my organs being kneed and punched, especially when I’m trying to go to sleep, you know, to help with that exhaustion you’re so kindly putting upon me AGAIN. And what’s the deal with the hiccups? No, not yours. Mine. Seriously, it’s like a billion times a day. I’m pretty sure that the people around me at work wonder why I keep making strange noises. I’m just...over it. Maybe it’s the fact that I can’t even keep my head up at work today that’s making me so irritable. Maybe it’s that I know I have to push through and make it to 6:00 PM. Who knows...
I’m just wondering how I can make it through these next 3 months without severely destroying my want to every have more children simply because I HATE pregnancy this much.
So, listen up...I’d like to see you with my lips, my nose, my eye color, Chris’s non-waddle chin/neck, Chris’s skin, and blonde hair at least until you’re in your pre-teens. And if you could make up for all this crap you’re causing me right now by being a good baby by sleeping well, that would be awesome and I’ll consider giving you a brother or sister in about 3 years.

Thanks,
Mom