I can't bring myself to do it

I've been trying to decide what to write about because nothing seems that interesting.

I've thought about a whole post on the glamorous aspects of my pregnancies... topics might include:

• acne on my chin, neck, back, scalp...
• the exponential growth of my butt (I said butt- the "b" word Kitty informed me she overheard me say, "you know, it's the only bad word that starts with 'b'?" Boy did I think I slipped up one day.)
• hemorrhoids (admit it-- we all get them when pregnant)
• excessive sweating
• chronic heartburn
• swelling of random body parts, ie. nose, fingers, toes, butt

I've also considered writing about how much I hate the floor plan of my house.  I still might do it, but it sounds kind of boring.

I thought about posting some organization goals and decluttering strategies that I have thought about completing before July, but then I might actually have to accomplish them and be accountable.  So forget that.

Instead I'll just post a picture of my googly eye.

More logic from John...

Last night John and I were talking about making choices after he had viewed a scary video at a friends house.

John: But he's my friend and I trusted him.

Me: If he told you to jump off a cliff would you follow him?

John: Of course because he would bring parachutes.

Duh.

Another argument lost

Last night John was interviewing me about my "career" for homework. 

Q: What is your job title?
A: Archaeologist

Q: Where do you work?

A: At home mostly.

Q: What type of goods or services do you provide?

A: Hmmm... We help preserve history.

John: So you don't provide anything.

Me: No. Yes. It's hard to explain.

John: Well what it MEANS when it says goods and services is that you provide SOMETHING!
Me: Wait a minute! Let me try to explain-

The more I tried the more frustrated he became and the more convinced I was that he was right.

John: Just forget it.  Your job doesn't provide any goods or services that anyone wants.

Maybe the interview should have been on my career as a mother, except he probably would have come to the same conclusion.

The best I can do.

Here's the response to all the suggestions-- and, oh yeah, thanks for caring.

Tommy: I would write on your blog anytime, but I don't know how to animate a llama's mouth to sync with the Humpty Dance.

Jack: As you know, Bill Supah (aka Supa, Soupa) was our version of Art Vandelay.  He was discovered, named, and promoted by Beth.  All I know is that he has really made a name for himself, a name that still appears from time to time.  I also have a vague memory of Bill Supah and a certain sauna. And to those of you who don't know who Art Vandelay is-- for shame!

Korie:  I would write more about my kids if they ever did anything exciting, cute, or noteworthy.  They haven't. We didn't celebrate Christmas this year.

Beth:  Sorry I missed your call, but really, can't you take a hint? If you need to contact me do so through Facebook.

Meri: Thanks for the lengthy list of ideas.  But I'm feeling lazy and so if you want to read about any of that stuff I suggest you start at the beginning of my blog and read through to today.  That should take care of it.

Jennifer: Your list gave me a headache.  Do you even know the latest on textile research?  All I know is S-warp and Z-warp if that's even right. If you want to read about CRM, transportation theories, obsidian sourcing, and core/periphery theory then maybe you should be reading Dr. J's blog.  Although, your list did make me think about writing a post titled, "How to survey 7 access roads in one day".

Jaime: The most annoying thing anyone has said to me since the pregnancy has been, "Congratulations!"  Just kidding.  The only thing I can think of is my feeling that I am too old to be pregnant and how I think that overshadows everyone's comments.  I always feel like when they ask how old my other kids are they assume that I have teenage children and that I am being irresponsible bringing a baby into the world when I am 35. I know it's not true, but that's how my hormones interpret it.

The other day my mom told me she knows why I haven't felt like writing, I've lost my sense of humor. It's true. Life has gotten pretty serious around here.  Seriously nauseating.

A call for papers.

Guess what? 

I've dried up.  My blog is on the verge of death because I lost my touch (again). 

So I just had an idea, it's risky and may backfire on my confidence, but...

Give me a topic.  I'll try to write about it. 

If I get nothing then I'll know you're just as bored with the blog as I am.

Things I miss (a prenatal list)

I miss:

My uncomplicated relationship with food.  Back in the day food and I were best friends.  We never questioned the other's intentions.  We both knew moderation was key.  We enjoyed each other's company and then moved on with our lives. As of late, we fight, the anger my meals have with me lingers and I suffer.  It's a love/hate relationship.  I have become distrustful and don't know where we stand from one minute to the next.

Dr. Pepper. The saddest part is that I miss it psychologically.  I don't crave it-- not one bit.  But I miss waiting at the fountain to get a refill, I miss the carbonation, and I miss the company a Route 44 provides through a long afternoon.  Dare I say, I even miss the little Mexican lady at Sonic? Does she think about me?

Wearing something other than my black yoga pants.  How many days in a row can you wear the same pants without people noticing?  I'll tell you when I get there.  So far its been three days.  Which brings me to the question-- Why don't they make maternity pants in long?  Tall people get pregnant too you know.  It's bad enough we have to wear maternity pants, but when they are clearly too short?  Come on.

My jawline.  Granted, it's never been strong, but you used to be able to see the change between my chin and my neck.

Motivation.  I never had much of it, but now that it's totally gone...

A few weeks ago Kitty had a stomach bug and she said to me: "I really wish the baby didn't make us so sick."

Blog humbug!

I don't know what I'm going to write about- I just wanted to use the title. I thought it was clever.

I fixed our tree, but never found our missing box of fragile and meaningful ornaments. Where could it have gone? Jared and I scoured every possible location and came up empty. The real problem is that it contains Kitty's very own ballerina ornament that she has been waiting to get out ALL year. It must also have her stocking too since her's is the only one missing. I told Kitty that it meant she doesn't get Christmas this year. She didn't think that was funny.

I haven't decided about Christmas cards this year. Don't be sad if you don't get one from us, I haven't been in the mood. Don't be sad if you are my neighbor and you don't get any goodies either (for the second year in a row) it's just too hard. Don't be sad if you are my relative and you don't get a card, a gift, or a goodie of any sort from us, I've been lazy this year. I'll try to make up for it in the coming year (but not by remembering your birthday).