The Queen's Rambles

I hope the past few days have been filled with love, laughter and kindness.

We’ve had a lot of all three, though kindness certainly doesn’t come easy for me these days. I’m way too much of a grouch.

Mike scored big time in the gift giving department this year. We’re going to the George Strait/Reba concert in January!!!

The funny thing is, he had to tell me to keep Jan 22 open last week when I was looking at my calendar for the month. I immediately began to ask what we were doing and my first suggestion was going to the concert. I didn’t even know if the concert was happening on that date and I sure as hell didn’t believe that he would actually A) know about it and B) get tickets. He is not a country fan.

I also got a ring, a couple of movies and a couple of books. And George Strait’s latest CD. Whoo-hoo! I scored big time.

I’m not sure Mike was so lucky. He got a really nice framed photo of some stars. I got it at a local art festival. It was really hard to pick because I knew something outer-spacey would be cool, but I have no idea what constellations Mike likes best. Do you know your significant other’s favorite constellation?

Erik got a bunch of toys, none worth writing about. His favorite gift? This weird penguin game that he picked out for Mike. Poor Mike. I let Erik pick out presents for Mike. He liked all kinds of stuffed animals and toys, but I limited him to a couple of games that could be for the whole family. He was not too impressed with his big gift of building panels, which makes me sad. I was sure it would be a hit. I know nothing.

We had a really good afternoon with our friends. The boys fought a little, but after we got some food in them they did a lot better. What else to say? Nothing much.

Erik has been so excited about Christmas that he ended up stripping naked during Christmas Eve dinner and throwing his shirt in my food. Nothing like a major time out and a mommy temper tantrum to spread the Christmas joy.

Second before total meltdown.

Anyway, I hope you all have a good week. Not sure how much internet access I will have while I’m gone. I’m not taking my laptop since I don’t want to fry it with the 220 voltage, even though we have plug converter things. Even if I took it, I doubt there are any neighborly wireless waves floating around the farm. That would require neighbors.

Question for those in the know: How did Buddy the Elf end up at the North Pole? I’ve seen snippets of this movie a million times, but have never seen the whole thing.

Now we are just running all our laundry in anticipation of our trip tomorrow. We leave for Sweden! Eeeeek! I am so not ready for this. I am also coming down with cold, which is just fabulous for travelling.

Usually December 23rd is spent in a frenzy of baking, wrapping, last minute shopping and just general. . . frenziness.

This year was a lot different. There was no last minute shopping! There was also no baking. I’m a little sad about that one, but my friend is providing the Christmas dessert and we are going out of town December 26 so we don’t need a lot of junk hanging around the house. Plus, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth these days, so that makes baking less of a priority.

Wrapping? Well there was plenty of that. This year, though, I didn’t buy Erik nearly as many gifts. I probably spent about the same amount of money, just on better quality items. He doesn’t play with toys much anyway, so what’s the point of populating our house with more junk? I want to get rid of most of the toys, but maybe the baby girl will actually like them. I don’t know.

Anyway, I had a totally weird experience at the OB this morning.

First, I was down in weight again! I’m really glad. I was afraid I would balloon up, but I am probably just losing all my muscle since I’m not lifting so much weight anymore.

The doctor finally came in, did a quick Doppler listen and then made a huge, gross face in regards to the mole on my stomach. I suppose it is kind of big and gross, but it never occurred to me to have it removed. It’s on my stomach, so who ever sees it? Mike, I suppose, but he has even more moles than me so I doubt he finds the sight of a mole cringe worthy.

The doctor commented “You know, you can get that mole removed at a dermatologist’s office! You’ll barely feel it.”

Then he looked at my face.

“And you can get those moles taken off your face, too. Why do you have so many? And they’re so big!”

I have been meaning to get the two gross face ones removed for years, but my insurance doesn’t cover it and I’m a little afraid of ending up with giant scars on my face. I think once your OB tells you you’re hideous, it’s time to see the dermatologist.

Seriously, I saw the doctor for maybe a total of three minutes and at least two of them were spent discussing the mole, with another 30 seconds spent discussing the book I was reading. Sure hope the baby is ok!

Afterwards, Erik and I were off to a cookie exchange party with our old co-op preschool group. I don’t miss doing the preschool but I really do miss that group of women. It was so nice to just sit around and talk for a few hours. I was sad to see it end and hope we are able to get together again soon. Erik, of course, had a ball. What’s not to love? Cookies and a bunch of hyped up children running in circles? That’s his kind of party.

Poor kid was exhausted when we came home, so I turned on Polar Express and he watched it for the first time. He didn’t want to watch it at first because he thought it looked scary, but about ten minutes in and he was hooked. I offered to turn it off and he got mad. He was enthralled for the whole movie, which was fun to see. I love seeing the magic reflecting in his eyes.

I can’t believe tomorrow is Christmas Eve! We’ll let Erik open one present in the morning (a new play-doh set), then try to keep him entertained until the sun goes down. I think Mike is making meatballs. If I get really motivated I will make peanut butter blossoms. I bought all the stuff for them, but my motivation levels are in the cellar. Erik has been getting up really early every day this week, so I have him laying on me, rubbing my face and hair while his sister kicks my innards. Doesn’t make for luxurious mornings of sleeping in. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep in sometime in the next decade.

My friend says she has a drill bit that can be used on metal. We will soon find out if it works. I need to put a chain up high on my door so my dear, sweet, adventurous son won’t be found wandering the streets with bare feet and a wagging wiener.

When I came out of the shower today, Erik had a brand new maternity shirt and maternity work out pants. Color me confused!

After much talking and investigating, the story came out. The UPS man knocked on the door, then dropped the package off on the porch. Erik made a good choice. He put on his pants, something we talk about all the time since he is such a nudist, then opened the door, found the package and brought it into the house.

He climbed up on top of the garbage can, grabbed the scissors and hacked the plastic packaging to bits. Somehow the clothing stayed intact, as did the boy’s skin.

Talk about scary! There are so many things that could have gone wrong that it makes me sick to even consider them.

So. . . time to borrow that drill and figure out how to put in a chain. At least that would limit wandering potential. I don’t have a clue where to hide the scissors. He’s industrious and determined. He will climb on anything. It is almost safer to have them someplace where he won’t kill himself trying to reach them. He already tries to climb to the top of the fridge because he knows that’s the main hiding spot for things. One of these days he’s going to figure out he can push the garbage can over to the counter, then climb up to the counter and reach the top of the fridge.

In other news, we went to the Romp ‘n Roll open gym today. I was so glad to get out of the house and Erik was so glad to have kids to run around with. I thought I was going to have to have mom fights with two different moms, though.

Ok, so probably not. They didn’t do anything to me, but they were both on my last nerve. Have I mentioned that I’m very irritable these days?

The first lady had two boys, maybe 1 and 3. She was a controlling bitch and wouldn’t let them do anything! She was freaking out over every single little thing the kids did was was really mean to the three year old. I don’t know how you can have two boys and be so uptight. They weren’t even doing anything remotely bad or dangerous and she would flip her lid. At the end of the open gym session, the worker lady came in and had the kids play “snowball fight,” which is always a winner with Erik. They put a big, soft barrier up and then the kids who want to participate stand on either side and throw these big, soft puffballs at each other. It takes up a very small area of the gym so if a child is too small or not interested they don’t need to participate.

The lady was pissed at Erik because he kept throwing the snowballs at her kids. We had this same problem the last time they did the snowball fight. Duh, people! If you don’t want someone to throw things at your kid, don’t bring them to the snowball fight! I don’t let Erik be mean to other kids, but I’m not going to tell him he can’t play the game that they are supposed to be playing!

The other mom was just as annoying, but in the totally opposite way. Her two year old girl was out of control. Her daughter could do no wrong. She was “loquacious” and “free spirited” and “so friendly!” Yeah, it looked real friendly when she shoved into a baby with a big push car thing. Then the kid got the industrial sized hand sanitizer down and was squirting it everywhere. The mom watched her do it. “So creative!” UGH!!!

Dude, she’s two and has no boundaries. You call it creative, I call it out of control due to parent negligence.

We went out to the parking lot at the same time. She was driving a Lexus. Why am I not surprised? Of course moms of all income levels act that way, but this woman was just so clueless and entitled.

Can’t believe tomorrow is Christmas Eve eve! I still have so much to do! I have to buy cheese! I don’t want to go to the store, but I must have cheese. I was just in the store today, but didn’t realize that my new dinner of potato chips, cheese and pickles had totally depleted my supply. At least I added clementines to the mix tonight.

(Click to go to flickr if you are dying for more pictures. Which I’m sure you all must be. Or not.)

The county has another snow day tomorrow, which means Erik’s Christmas program/party is cancelled. Not fair! Ok, so I admit it would probably be painful to see all the kids trying to sing in unison and my ear drums might burst from the noise, but I’m a first time mommy. I wanted to see what they were going to do! I have no idea if the program will be rescheduled or not. Tomorrow was the last day before vacation, so I’m thinking by the time they get back the kids will have all forgotten the songs. Erik sings snippets of the songs all the time and does a little poem, but so at least one kid has it on the brain. He hasn’t mentioned the program so I hope he won’t be too disappointed.

I’m really hoping that the gym will re-open the childcare tomorrow. They follow the county snow emergencies, but they do have a lot more leeway. Sometimes they are open, sometimes not. I’ll just have to call them, I guess.

We spent a couple of hours out in the now, with me praising e-bay for my fantastic winter boots. Seriously, these are the best boots I’ve ever owned. I don’t remember how I even found the auction, but when I saw 11WW with extra wide calf openings I knew I had to bid. Who would have dreamed that they would be a perfect fit?

I think I need to go buy a supply of gloves and hats for the neighbor kids tomorrow. I know I can’t take responsibility for those kids, but it breaks my heart to see them out there with no gloves, no hats, in regular sneakers. The oldest boy’s coat has a broken zipper. The least I can do is get them some gloves, if I can find a store that still has them in stock. Charity begins at home, right?

At least I was well prepared for winter with Erik this year, mainly because I knew we were spending a week in Sweden and wanted to make sure he could go outside and play while we were there.

After our outdoor playtime, we came in and made cookies. Argh! I hate making sugar cookie cut-outs. Hate hate hate hate hate it! So time consuming! So annoying! And they don’t even taste good! Erik had the notion that we were going to make them, though, and there was no dissuading him.

I decided that I would let Erik pick out one cookie cutter (I have a set of 40 Christmas cookie cutters) and we would make one color of frosting. That helped immensely. I slapped the frosting on, he put the sprinkles on. Everyone was happy.

Actually, the part I hate the most is rolling out the dough and cutting the shapes. This time Erik did most of the preliminary rolling and I just had to go in and thin it out a little more. He did all the cookie cutting by himself. Every last bit. At first I tried to teach him how to plan ahead for maximum cutting capacity, but after a few minutes I decided it didn’t matter. He could do whatever made him happy and I refused to stress about it. The cookies turned out surprisingly deformity free for being manhandled by a four year old. I have no idea how they taste, but who cares? He’ll probably be the only one to eat them. He had fun and that’s the important part. I do try to let him have fun, even though I’m lazy and pregnant and irritable.

Usually when there are reports of a major snowstorm in the DC area, we look around and say “Huh? They call this snow?”

This time there was actually something to all the hype. Despite living in wintry environments most of my life, watching 20 inches of snow drop in less than 24 hours has been a pretty rare occurrence in my life.

I am just sad to say that my car sucks ass in the snow. I guess it all comes down to tires, and why would we have winter tires here? I went to a party on Friday night and the ride home was kind of funny. There was about 1/4″ of snow on the ground and most of the cars were going about five miles an hour. I was laughing until I got to our street.

The entrance to our street is up a slight incline. I could see the cars in front of me were having trouble, but never dreamed I wouldn’t be able to make it up the hill. But I was stuck!

Eventually I was able to get about half way up the baby hill by swishing my steering wheel around, getting out of the ruts. But once I hit the speed bump I was totally done. I was about to go and walk up to the house and get Mike’s help, but a neighbor came out and pushed me up the hill. I really do like our new neighborhood. Lots of friendly people.

After that little incident, I have no intention of ever trying to drive in the snow again, no matter how thin it is!

We didn’t go anywhere yesterday, just hung around the house and played in the snow. We had a gift exchange at the party and I ended up with a gingerbread house kit. We tried one of those kits a couple of years ago and I swore I would never try to make another gingerbread house, but this kit was much better. The icing was pre-made and it came with a molded tray so you could just fill in the slots with icing and put together the house. This kept things upright with very little trouble. I need to remember this trick for next year–the brand was Create a Treat.

We spent all of today digging out the cars. Mike did most of the digging, but I helped a little. I was able to play the pregnancy card. I felt bad about it, but I really don’t want to aggravate the sciatica I had with Erik. It all started the day of my baby shower, when I was on my feet for hours, cutting up fruit and veggie trays. Sometimes I start to feel the familiar burn and it freaks me out. That was a horrible few months. I don’t want that again.

The pregnancy hormones are kicking it into high gear. I am watching a sappy Hallmark movie about orphaned boys right now. Why would I subject myself to this? I feel the need to go find an orphanage and bring home a sad little kid. I know the fact of adoption is very, very different from a movie and we are not equipped to take care of a child who has lost everything/never had anything.

I was planning on doing some quilting this weekend, but yet again it didn’t happen. I pulled out a quilt top with the intention of just quilting the danged thing without a border, but after I put it on the bed I realized that it will not be big enough without borders. I left it on the bed in hopes that it will motivate me. I don’t have much hope, though.

I bought a quilt kit for baby Elsa, this Paper Doll quilt (didn’t pay anywhere near that amount, though!), and really want to get it started! So why don’t I? I first saw this last year and wanted to make it for my niece but knew it would just be destroyed. As soon as I found out I was having a girl, I started searching the web for the kit. I don’t think it is going to be a good baby quilt, but I still want to make it. I need to do up a little baby quilt, maybe with all the pinks, browns and teals I’ve been collecting over the past couple of years.

I won’t be getting anything done this week, that’s for sure. Even though the roads are cleared, the county has cancelled school for tomorrow. Our preschool follows the county cancellations even though they aren’t affiliated with the county. Bah! The roads will be totally fine in the afternoon. I am not happy.

What else? Guess that’s it. Snow. No quilting. Lots of shoveling. Our weekend in a nutshell.

I thought Erik was finally starting to accept the fact that we’re having a baby instead of a puppy, but maybe not. He was in the back seat, babbling away. I try not to listen because he talks 24/7 and it starts to hurt my brain after awhile, but if I don’t respond I get shouts of “Excuse me! Excuse me! Excuse me!” until I grunt.

So he’s back on the puppy idea. Or, if we’re really lucky, I might be growing a crocodile in my tummy! I feel like a crocodile, but I hope to hell I don’t give birth to one! I am such a grouch lately.

I explained that we don’t have a place for a dog to live, but he has all kinds of ideas. The best idea was to call our friend Julie in Ohio and ask her to send “those things her dogs had on their necks that make them not runaway.” I didn’t even know he noticed the invisible fence collars. Apparently he has been planning this dog acquisition for quite a while.

I feel almost guilty for saying no to a dog. I know he would enjoy having a playful companion, but I know a dog would make me even grouchier than I am now. I don’t enjoy cleaning up doggy bodily fluids, dog fur, and chewed up dog messes. If we ever do get a dog it won’t be a puppy. I would go for an already trained rescue dog, but that doesn’t mean the dog would never have an accident in the house. And what if it was a yippy dog? I can’t stand a yippy dog. And I don’t want to clean up dog shit from my backyard. And I don’t want to smell dog breath. And I don’t want to have to deal with spilled dog food and dog water all over wherever it is we would set up a dog food station.

I’m just a big ol’ curmudgeon. I am sad that I am denying him something he wants so much–something we very well could provide if I wasn’t so lazy. But I’m not insane. I know a dog would just make me grouchy. We don’t have that much room, but most small dogs aren’t that great with kids.

No dog. No dog. I’m not a bad mommy. No dog. It sounds like I’m going to crack, doesn’t it? This is why I need a visit to Oregon. One day with the three dogs and my resolve will be solid.

I would post an entry tonight, but I have absolutely nothing interesting to say.

That means this post should end, right? Or not even exist.

I thought I was having pregnancy insomnia last night. I was totally pissed that my dad wouldn’t shut the damned door, since a snow storm was blowing right in the living room.

Then I woke up and discovered I had no covers on. At least I wasn’t having insomnia.

How about a picture of my son?

This is why I should pay more attention to him and less attention to the computer. At least the markers were washable, but he had a tantrum when I cleaned it off because he wanted to be Rudolph. I guess the Pink Faced Reindeer instead of the Red Nosed Reindeer? He has been insisting that his new name is Rudolph. My new name is Turkey Poop. When I protest I’m told “You’ll get used to it.”

I recorded Rudolph a few weeks ago and he wouldn’t even watch it the first time. The dad, coach and Santa were all scary jerks and I didn’t blame him for not wanting to see them be mean to Rudolph. I don’t know what changed, but suddenly he was requesting it. He watched it while sitting on my lap one day and we talked about each thing that was happening. Since then he has been requesting it all the time and watching it at least once a day. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. The social lessons from the 1960s are not exactly the same lessons we give today, though I guess in the end being a misfit was a good thing.

First, thank you all so so so so so so so much for coming in and jumping to my defense about my mom’s craziness. I was extremely upset and had a couple of sleepless nights, but I think I’m over it now. I was almost crying from the outpouring of support (I am a hormonal pregnant lady after all). You guys are the bestest.

Now for the weekend report:

I had such a great weekend! Sometimes a person just really needs to step outside their regular life and go someplace where no one is climbing on your back, running into you as hard as they can, petting your hair, sticking their hands down your shirt, asking you ten billion questions that you don’t know have answers for, crying for candy canes and strawberry ice cream, ripping their clothes off with little provocation and repeating everything you say because they want to be a “coffee cat.”

Whew!

I spent a lovely Saturday baking cookies with friends, as has been a tradition since I moved to the area and Heather told me to call her friend because she would be nice to me. Normally I go all out and try to bake a billion things, but this year I stuck to one recipe and tried not to fall asleep on the table. I am very un-vivacious these days, but I guess I get a pass since I’m gestating.

Then today I went back down through the torrential rains and exchange cookies with a bunch of people. Again, no one tried to molest me, torture me, bribe me or beat me. Very refreshing!

I talked to my mom. I almost didn’t answer the phone, but when I did she was totally chipper, like nothing had even happened. She had no idea that I had been so upset that I was ready to write “FUCK YOU” all over her Christmas card. She had no clue that she had done anything wrong!

I told her I was really angry with her and she couldn’t even imagine what I had to be angry about. I told her we were naming the baby Elsa and she started back pedalling really fast, saying it was a pretty name and the Borden cow was really Elsie and was 40 years ago so no one would even remember. Then she said she was just trying to get me worked up so I’d explode and tell her the name and her plan worked since I told her the name.

Sometimes that woman is unreal.

She did apologize.

I don’t know which would be worse–if she really did all that just to get a reaction or if she was just saying that as an excuse for her very hurtful behavior.

I believe she is suffering from depression, but I believe her depression manifests itself as anger instead of typical depression symptoms. She has a lot to be depressed about and her life just totally sucks. A lot of that is her own fault, but some of it is unavoidable. She lost her best friend almost two years ago and her mother just six months ago so depression would not be out of the question. I find it frustrating to watch her do things that keep her mired in her current circumstances instead of looking for ways to improve her situation. There have been several opportunities, but I guess she is afraid of change or she enjoys being around alcoholics or she likes drama. I don’t know. I am a person who refuses to be unhappy for long. If I don’t like the way my life is going I do something about it. Some people might say I run away from my problems or that I’m a quitter, but I say I am a person who is not going to sit around having a pity party indefinitely. I’ll have a pity party for awhile, but eventually I’m going to figure out a way to make life better. I deserve happiness. I have a surprisingly high self-esteem for someone with such intense body hatred. It’s a puzzle.

So now the name cat is out of the bag and I have been telling people. So far everyone says they think it is a lovely name, so I haven’t had to leap across the table and rub some one’s face in a plate of sugar sprinkles. Yet.

I just need to go rub my face in a plate of Tums. Ugh. Heartburn.

Thing One: I don’t think I like Spanish food. We had Mike’s work party last night and I was starving. I was ready to love the food, but it was totally blah. They had it at a different restaurant last year, but the boss said the food there wasn’t very good. I thought it was decent at the other place, but nothing would want to eat again. This new place is supposed to be super fancy and owned by a chef who also runs a really fancy Beverly Hills restaurant. I think he forgot his salt shaker back in California, because there was certainly no salt in any of our food. I don’t use much salt in my own cooking, but you have to have at least a little for flavor!

Also, I don’t think I’m a fan of tapas. There were a couple of things I did enjoy, but we got two bites each and that was it. I would have liked to be able to pick out more of what I wanted, not have a preset menu, I guess. I love the Greek tapas place that we go to, but then we have a lot more control over the menu and their portions are a lot bigger.

When it came time to dessert, I was thinking that at least we would get our own. Ha!

They stuck a couple of desserts on the table, gave us each a spoon, and let us have at it. I was appalled when people just started eating off the plate with their spoons and everyone was getting their slobber all over the community dessert. At least someone on our end of the table had the idea to use a clean spoon to slice the dessert into four portions, so we each got two bites of germ free chocolate mousse. I guess I’m not fancy enough to sit around eating after other people.

Also, it was freezing outside and I was waaaaaay overdressed. I was the only one in a dress. I was not keen on buying a new pair of pants just for this, esp expensive maternity pants, so I wore my dress from last year. It made me look really pregnant, but I figure I’m five months pregnant so if I didn’t look pregnant something would be wrong. It was way too fancy for the crowd and my legs just about froze off. Bah! But at least they party was a little more fun than last year because we were sitting with more interesting people.

Thing Two: I made a big mistake. HUGE! I KNEW I shouldn’t give my mother a single hint about the baby’s name. I KNEW that it didn’t matter what name we picked, she would find some way to make me feel like shit over it. I KNEW! That’s the whole reason we were keeping it secret.

But then she was being so good about not telling us stupid names and she was so incredibly pissed about not knowing that I figured it would be ok to give some hints. I could feel the rage boiling over the phone lines every time I talked to her and wouldn’t tell her the name. Even before we had a name!

I thought our name was pretty safe from controversy. I really like the name Astrid, but didn’t consider it because I don’t want my poor little girl called Ass all the time. I rejected Callie because it is too close to Carrie. Mike wanted to use his mother’s name as the middle name (Elsa) but I couldn’t come up with a single good first name to go with Elsa, mainly because all the names I like end with A and having two A endings sound weird.

Eventually I hit on Elsa Kyrene. I think I love it!

My mom got our list of hints in the mail yesterday and the rage just poured off her. First, she didn’t think my game was fun at all. Her reaction was not at all what I expected. I knew it was a little bit evil to hint around, but I honestly thought she’d be excited to have more of an idea of the name. My sister was really excited. Of course, she tried to trick me into telling her the name and all that, but it was more of a fun thing. Not like my mother, who just started crying “Don’t name my grandbaby Elsa, don’t name her Elsa! That’s a cow name!”

Again, I could feel the rage fuming through the phone lines. It was horrible.

I don’t have any intention of changing the name based on my mom’s reaction. She had her chance to name her babies (well, one of them. My dad actually told everyone my name was Carrie before even talking to her about it. She wanted to name me Nicole or Peggy Sue. I can’t say my dad had never done anything good for me!).

It is just really disappointing. I thought if we sent little hints and then she learned the name by reading it when I wasn’t there she would have time to get her brain in order and figure out that she shouldn’t open her mouth and make rude comments.

Why did she have to get so freaked out over Elsa? Wilma was on that list! If you’re going to discourage any name from that list, that would be the name to discourage!

Now I am having second thoughts about the name, but not really because she says so. However, a ton of people on my LJ knew the name was Elsa as soon as I said it was a cow name, which leads me to believe there is truth to this cow connection. I had never heard of Elsie the Borden cow prior to last night so I’m not sure how prevalent this association is. I don’t want to give my poor daughter, who may very well have my body problems, a name that is going to have kids mooing at her in the hallways! But will the children of her generation have that image?

Bah. Lots of thinking to do. Of course, like I said before Erik was almost named David. Mike only liked two boy names, Erik and David. At first I really disliked the name Erik but one day a flip switched in my head and I suddenly hated the name David and liked Erik. We still have 18 weeks or so to go. Who knows what we’ll like then. If Erik had been a girl he would have been Kyra or Linnea. I still like both those names a lot, but they don’t work with the Elsa middle name.

My dad’s contribution through all this: Just name her Doniella after me!

How many kids does he need named after him? His name is Donald Kent. Erik is Erik Kent. My sister’s middle name is Dawn. My youngest nephew is Donald Rowan. My sister and her friends call him Rowan, but everyone else calls him Donnie. I actually do think it is a pretty name and have a friend with the name, but he already got as much honoring as he’s going to get from us.

Instead of watching TV, I’ve had it set to all music channels lately. The country channel has this deal where you can e-mail or text in messages and they’ll flash on the screen for 30 seconds or so. Tonight I’ve seen at least four marriage proposals. I suppose it would be somewhat romantic to have a marriage proposal on TV, but not on the music channel, mixed in with illiterate texts from people reporting sports scores and teeny boppers saying hello to friends. Plus, the graphics are terrible. All the pictures of the stars look like the people running the station have a total hate on for country and tried to find the most unflattering picture possible.

So if you have plans to propose to me, please don’t do it on the digital music channels.

Also, I’m already married so there’s that.

Mike actually proposed to me on the refrigerator with magnet poetry. I was so sure it wasn’t real that I wouldn’t even mention it on the phone when he called later in the day. As if several magnet somehow accidentally fell into “Will you marry me?” formation?

I managed to plod through Zumba today before preschool, then came home and had big plans to paper piece some batik on black quilt blocks for Jen’s lotto, but then I remembered that I have no idea how to print from my computer.

Normally I e-mail things to Mike with a nice message like “print.” Sometimes I’ll even add a please. However, his desktop is smoked, so I have to do something with wires and stuff. Sounds too geeky to me.

The saga of his computer is pissing me off.

We ordered a new computer from Dell on 11/23. The next day I got three phone calls from Dell. Two were from salesmen wanting to sell me another laptop even though we just bought one in September. The third was from a guy who said our credit card had been declined (which is just nuts) and that we had to cancel our order. Eventually he said we could replace the order by using our Dell account, so I gave the go-ahead on that. He was supposed to e-mail a confirmation e-mail but I never received anything.

I sort of forgot about it, even though the whole thing was really odd.

I’ve been thinking of it off and on and wondering where the hell the computer was.

Last night I finally logged into my Dell account and didn’t see anything about the new order–just that the original order was cancelled.

Alarm bells were ringing, so I called Dell and waited on hold for over an hour.

I was finally given an order number and told the computer is in production and will arrive no later than Dec. 15. I’m glad we really had an order number and the whole thing wasn’t an elaborate hoax, but it still seems really odd to me.

I don’t know why Mike wants a desktop anyway. Probably so he has an excuse to sit in the basement. He should have got a laptop so he can sit on the couch and we can touch toes while doing our very important internetty things like updating our FB status and browsing Amazon.com.

Anyone have any good book recommendations? I need a really fun, fast paced book. I mostly read fantasy and crime thrillers, but am open to other genres.

We have Mike’s big work party tomorrow. I have no idea what I’m going to wear. I have a few options, so I guess I’ll put on a fashion show for Erik tomorrow and see what he thinks. Ha. He mainly likes it when I just have my underwear on. Freaky kid.

I’m really glad I don’t have to feel pressure with the clothing this year. Last year I was told it was a formal party and totally freaked. What a total joke. Geek formal is apparently very different from real world formal.

I think I’m going to go to bed early again tonight. I was totally out by 9:30 last night. Crazy! It was the best thing I’ve done for myself in a very long time.

Oh, by the way, this should amuse someone. Today our Advent activity was to go pick out a special ornament at the store for Erik. He LOVED this, but I quickly realized I’d made a big mistake. He picked out a really ugly basketball snow globe. Ugh. He kept saying it was “marvelous,” which totally made the other ladies in the aisle giggle. He is big on Maggie and the Ferocious Beast right now, which is where the word comes from.