Poor Boy

The Boy has been miserable for the past three days. He's had a fever ranging from 101 - 103 degrees. He's not his usual energetic self and even refuses to eat cookies (which is a huge deal). We went to the doctor this morning, who suspected strep. His rapid response machine determined that it was not strep, but we won't know for sure until the culture gets back from the lab on Monday. If the lab determines it's not strep, it's likely a virus. And there's nothing we can do about a virus.

So while we're here being miserable, let's remember some of the good, funny times with The Boy:

~Upon looking in the rear view mirror one day, I noticed that Nathan had his finger all the way up his nose while reading his Thomas the Train books. He noticed me looking at him and proceeded to exclaim "BOOGERS! Thomas eats boogers ... ewwww!" He then moved his finger from his nose, to Thomas' mouth and laughed the rest of the way home. Apparently he thinks he's pretty funny.

~We moms rarely get any privacy when the kids are around. Perfect example: while I was in the bathroom doing my business The Boy busted in with some toilet paper and said "Mama done, Mama done. Watch Sesame Street?" We're working on learning patience.

~One particular morning Nathan was angry with BSC. So angry in fact that when BSC sat down to eat breakfast next to him he said "No Daddy, you go away. Mama, come sit." He proves over and over what a Mama's boy he is.

Moms Gone Wild, Part Deux

**Warning, this post was not written by the author of this blog. Proceed with caution.

Everyone saw and adored my last post about our yearly Moms Gone Wild trip (formerly Wives Gone Wild). I couldn't fit everything I wanted to in it, so this is a follow-up to make sure you know EVERYTHING we did on the trip.

Scene: Cowboy bar, Saturday night in Jackson, Wyoming.

Merecedes: Whoo hoo! I am frahhhking durnk!

Loo: You are too!

The Mormon Girl: I'm Mormon!

Merecedes: Who invited her? Hey look it's my bestest best best friend in the whole world!

Sally: (hiccup) What?

The Blond One: Hey, I once drank so much, my friend called Broadax the alien Glurgle basketball hoop!

Loo: What the hell is she talking about?

Merecedes: Get her some more drinks. Preggo GET OVER HERE!

Preggo: Stop yelling. I'm right next to you. What do you want?

Merecedes: WE NEED MORE DRINKS.

Preggo: I'm pregnant, not deaf. Stop yelling at me!

Mercedes: WHAT?

Preggo: Nothing, nothing at all. (sob)

Loo: Know what we need? A big sexy man.

The Brunette one: A local man! Who's totally manly.

Loo: Ooh, looky over there. How about that guy?


Dick: I'm looking for someone to chain up and whip with a cattle prod. You ladies looking for fun?

Loo: Your bald spot is hot.

Dick: Answer me women!

Mercedes: I LIKE YOUR STYLE. MOO MOO!

Mormon Girl: My husband does that to me too! It's great joy!

Merecedes: WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER WIVES?

Mormon Girl: Shove it you cantankerous oaf.

Mercedes: WHAT?

Mormon Girl: God Bless you and thank you both.

Preggo: Shut up shut up shut up all of you shut up.

Sally: (hic)

The Other Blonde One: I think apodeca doobie doo bunchita whoohoo I am frahking drunk!

Loo: This reminds me of that one episode of 90210, where the slutty one starts running around with the old man and he's buying her stuff like a car and all she has to do is sleep with him and stroke his mustache every once in a while. Remember that one?

Mormon Girl: OhMyHeck that reminds me of this one episode of Friends. It started with Joey sitting in his apartment and Chandler comes in and says "Joey, how'd your audition go?" and Joey says "Audish....OhMyHeck I forgot the audition!" That Joey! He's my favorite. No! Rachel is! No, no it's Ross!

Merecedes: I LOVED THAT EPISODE! DID YOU KNOW I DON'T HAVE CABLE? HOW COOL IS THAT? WE HAVE THIS CATCHPHRASE: I DONT THINK OUR RABBIT EARS PICK THAT CHANNEL UP. HOW HILARIOUS IS THAT?! MY FRIEND IN THE UNIVERSE, THE BEST FRIEND ANYONE EVER HAD CRACKS UP AT IT ALL THE TIME!

OHMYGOD I NEED TO GO BLOG ABOUT THAT! THEN I'LL BLOG ABOUT HOW I BLOGGED ABOUT THAT! THEN I'LL BLOG A BLOG ABOUT THE BLOG ABOUT THE TIME I....WAIT, WHAT AM I DOING?

Sally: (hic)

Mormon Girl: So then Rachel comes in and....hahahahahaha, I love this scene....

Loo: Oh yeah, she says....

(75 minutes later after reciting half of season four in sequence)

Mormon Girl: I loved that season!

Dick: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Loo: Hey, we should do something to him while he's asleep!

Sally: (hic)

Mormon Girl: My heck, Sally, are you okay?

Mercedes: STOP TALKING TO MY BEST FRIEND I'LL KICK YOUR ASS SISTER

Preggo: Hey, we could take a crap on him. Kind of like what has happens when you go on a girls trip and are pregnant and miserable. But don't mind me.

Wyoming Mountain Stranger: I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Loo: Hey you big sexy bear you!

Mercedes: OH MY GOD I LOVE MEN WITH HAIR ITS SO HOT CAN I RUN MY HANDS THROUGH IT!

Wyoming Mountain Stranger: You can both come with me to my cabin, we'll...uhh, scrapbook.

Mormon Girl: OH My Heck I just love scrapbooking! Do you have a Cricut?!

Wyoming Mountain Stranger: Uhh....sure, if by Cricut you mean young womens' heads in trash bags in my freezer, then sure, I have a lot of Cricuts.

(Mormon Girl leaves with Wyoming Mountain Stranger, never to be heard from again)

Blonde Girl: Mackerel salamander snorful sloot bedazzle tooty frooty choochoo train!

Mercedes: OHMYGOD YOU'RE SO RIGHT! WHAT A GENIUS!

Preggo: This sucks.

Loo: Poop jokes! That's all my husband talks about. It's "crap joke" this and "crap joke" that. Come up with something original! Like fat people jokes! Looks there's a fat bastard over there!


MERCEDES: FATTY ARBUCKLE!
Loo: Gorge W. Bush!
Sally: (hic, giggle)
Preggo: I'll kill your fat ass!
Other Brunette: Flergie Roozins
Other Blonde: Wonka Dude Troika Mademoiselle Freckledass

Mercedes: GET ON ALL FOURS FAT BOY! IMMA RIDE YOU LIKE THE GREASEBUCKET PIG YOU ARE!

(rides helpless but desperate to impress fat guy on floor for next 45 minutes)

Mercedes: GIDDYUP TUBS 'O LARD! WHOOHOOO THIS IS THE BEST TRIP EVAR!

Needless to say, I can't WAIT til next year!

(Note: I don't know all of you that went on the trip, so only the people I know relatively well took part in this. You can write your own Stories)

Curling

Why is it that during the week, I always have great ideas about subjects I can blog. But when I actually sit down to write ... nothing.

Luckily this time, one thing stuck in my forgetful brain.

Last Friday BSC and I met a group of friends at the Olympic Oval for curling lessons. Ya know, that weird sport you see at the winter Olympics involving ice, brooms, and a 40 lb. stone sliding across the ice. It's the type of event you see on TV and think, "Really, this is a sport?" Now I can truthfully answer that question, yes.


Some interesting facts about curling:
1. A set of stones cost about $17,000 each
2. The ice is treated with a semi-sticky substance for better grip
3. The purpose of sweeping is to melt the ice so the stone slides further
4. Curling is hard!

So for $10 we get two, three-hour lessons. The first was this past Friday, the second is this coming Friday. There's nothing like asking your body to do something it's never done before to make you feel awkward and uncoordinated. Poor BSC ended up with his feet in the air on numerous occasions, and all of us left with bruises and sore muscles. But I have never had so much fun with a broom in my hand!

I'm kicking myself now for not bringing my camera, but I'm also glad because it could have been totally smashed after one of my several attempts to slide the stone.

If you ever get the chance to go curling, do it! I guarantee you will have a laugh-so-hard-your-stomach-hurts-and-you-can't-even-sweep-the-ice time.

Busy day

Wow, what a busy day I had today. You'd think staying home with the kid all day would be pretty easy. You'd be pretty dumb.



Yay! Kittens! Meowwww!

While The Husband is hard at work, I have a lot of things to do. Here's a breakdown of my day:

7:30 a.m. - wake up, fart under covers, then force Husband's head under. The Dutch Oven is a great way to kick the day off. Smelled like nutmeg and cloves.

7:45 - Smoke break

8 a.m. - Poured a glass of JB. That's my buddy Jim. Jim Beam. We're tight.

8:10 - Waited until Husband started shower, then I proceeded to flush every toilet in the house and start the washer. He really likes it when I do this, but sometimes his laughs sound like anguished screams. Dang southern accent.

8:35 - After the husband left for work, I locked the kid in a closet so I could clean my rifle. The little brat screamed for, like fifteen minutes. Come on, I even put a few toys in there. Little ungrateful twirp.

9:00 - Smoke break

9:50 -
Called my friend, Mercedes, who is also a close associate of JB.

We drove to Magna, where we knocked off a 7/11. I have this awesome little pistol that hides in my boots so well. It's cute, but watch out! I killed a poodle with it yesterday.

Noon - On the way home, I noticed the boy is getting big. Almost too big to fit in front of the passenger seat. His head bumps up against the glove box, which could make the pistol in there go off. Them bullets is expensive.

12:15 p.m. - Smoke break. You know how hard it is to drive and smoke while talking on a cell phone? Especially when trying to wave the aforementioned pistol at the old hag that won't get out of the lane?

1:00 - Me and Mercedes go to a party at Troy's! Whoo hoo!

2:00 - call Husband, sweetly ask how his day is going, tell him mine is fine and the boy is sleeping. Will have dinner ready.













Yay! He looks so scared!

3:35 - Smoke break

4:00 - Run down to the homeless shelter, grab a few meals. I really wasn't wanting to have stroganoff again, but I have to take what I can rip from the cold, tired hands of the hobo-ites.

4:30 - Noticed the car was riding a little bumpy, so I pulled over and looked closer. Turns out I was dragging a Mexican on my bumper. Silly guy! Yay!

5:00 - Change diaper. I can make myself do it at least once a day.

5:30 - Husband arrives. Dinner, bubby time, sleep. Yay!

What it's like living with a BSC - III

Usually it takes a little while between BSC's events that make our lives so much more interesting. But it seems that latley it's one thing after another. I'll just tell myself that he's doing these things so I have something to blog about.

Just the other day I was driving home from work like normal, anticipating seeing BSC and the little munchkin, drooling over the thought of dinner and getting ready to soak in some relaxation time at home. I pulled my car into the garage and walked to the door. I opened our door only to be smacked in the face with 95 degrees worth of heat spilling out of our heating vents.

Yes, it's been a bit nippy these past few days with the rain and predicted snow for tonight. But on this particular day the temperature and weather were perfect. I think the high for the day was 70 with "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" clouds in the sky. So I was quite surprised that the heater was even turned on.

BSC admitted that he may have accidentally bumped the thermostat up, that it may have gone up as far as it could go, and that it may have been running all day while we were at work.

One of our heating vents is located under our bathroom vanity. My lipsticks were melted, the toothpaste was now tooth liquid, and my deoderant was oozing a clear liquid of some sort.

I can't WAIT to get our gas bill for the month.

What it's like living with a BSC - II

I make rules. As in, rules for living in the house BSC and I worked so hard to make into a home. Rules to keep the place as clean as possible so I don't freak out on a regular basis. Rules to keep things in order so I can easily find something when I need it.

BSC also has rules. Or should I say, anti-rules. For every rule I like to make, he makes one to oppose it.

For example:
I made a rule that no food items or their containers should be thrown away in any other trashcan than the one in the kitchen. This rule makes sense to me because after a little while, food starts to smell. I don't want to have to go around to every single trashcan in the house to find out why my house smells like rotting vegetables. The kitchen trashcan is emptied every other day, therefore, this eliminates any possibility of making my house smell like refuse. (Yes, I know I'm totally uptight and anal. I've come to terms with this, so should you!)

BSC's anti-rule for this:
Throwing his apple cores, banana peels, peach pits, and orange peels into a trashcan that I don't see very often, hidden in a corner of his bar.

The result:
Fruit flies. Our house has been invaded with fruit flies! Seriously, there are THOUSANDS of them. They are everywhere. No space is safe, no room is clear, the fruit flies have taken over! I can't even feed Nathan without a fruit fly diving into his jar of apples and cherries. It took me a couple of days to figure out why our house was attracting so many of these bugs. Remember that trashcan BSC filled with his fruit? It was never emptied. It sat for weeks.

I think BSC now realizes why such rules are important. Rules BSC ... RULES!

Who could have known?

Who would have ever known that this little boy from Oklahoma ...


... and this little girl who grew up all over the world ...

... would one day find each other ...

... fall in love ...

(notice the golfer in the back?)

... and get married?

It seems like just yesterday that we were walking up these stairs together. These past four years have been incredible.

Happy Anniversary Brandon. I love you!

Happy Birthday

Twenty six years ago today, the world shook with fear as one of its most unique individuals appeared for the fist time. BSC entered the world with all the force his chubby little body could muster and hasn't slowed down a bit since (except maybe to watch a football game and drink a beer).

This day is such an important day in my life. This day gave me my date to the senior prom, phone conversations until three in the morning, 40 minute trips from the city to the country for a 30 minute visit. It gave me the man who baptized me my senior year of high school, the man who gave me encouragement and love through one of the toughest semesters of my life, the man who cared enough to talk my parents into letting me move to Texas. March 2nd brought me someone who is my total opposite yet understands my need for 100 pairs of shoes, lets me be girly and allows me to be neurotic and OCD no matter how much it bothers him. This day brought me support, love, laughter, smiles, and a soul mate to share my life. This day gave me the love of my life and a little family of my own.

Happy birthday BSC, we love you.

Valentines and such

So Valentines Day has come and gone. No big deal. BSC and I usually don't do a whole lot. He'll get me flowers (which I love) and I usually give him a card and a small present. This year I got him an OU rug to go in his Sooner bar.

I got dead flowers.

Through no fault of BSC, my Valentines Day flowers arrived three days late, dead in a box. It was rather comical watching him sweat over these flowers, but I also understand how incredibly angry he was. They would have been beautiful ... pink roses with purple lilies. But instead I got brown roses and lilies. I tried to revive the departed upon bringing them home, but only a few roses survived the massacre. So to make up for it, he had a bouquet of red roses and oriental lilies (my favorite lily ... used in the centerpieces of our wedding) delivered to my office. They are gorgeous, and still thriving.

Speaking of the departed, If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend it. It's quite gruesome and bloody, but such a good story line. All the acting is incredible, the character development is remarkable, not to mention all the yummy man candy in the movie.

A picture of my angel working really hard at the office:

Warning: Don't let a BSC into your kitchen

If you do, this could happen:

Let me preface this story by saying that BSC is amazing on the grill. He can make mean steak, hamburger, grilled chicken, or even veggies. But for some reason, when it comes to kitchen cooking, something always tends to go wrong.

I came home late Monday night from a meeting to find that BSC hadn't yet had dinner. I had already eaten, so he was on his own for food. From a grocery shopping trip last weekend we found one of his favorite foods in the frozen aisle: pirogies. So BSC took it upon himself to acquire the rest of the ingredients to make pirogies and bratwurst, a German specialty he often orders at one of the local brew/pubs. He started out correctly with a bit of oil in the pan to heat up the pirogies. I promptly left the kitchen because the smell of bratwurst makes me want to gag. And again I promptly returned to the kitchen because what I was smelling was NOT nasty bratwurst. I was smelling what I thought was the kitchen burning to the ground.

Upon entering the kitchen I discovered BSC hovered over the stove, fanning huge billows of black smoke into the air with the fan spinning on high. I immediately yelled at him to put the lid on the offending dish and take it in the backyard to air out. Despite the freezing temperatures I opened all the windows and doors, as our entire house smelled like burned, nasty food. The smell penetrated our towels, clothes, blankets and drapes. It was NASTY! I can still smell it every once in a while. All BSC could do was sit in the back yard and laugh at his blackened creation.

Apparently BSC doesn't know the different between the clearly marked "Low" and "High" settings on our stove because that is exactly how the pirogies became such an atrocity. He was too proud to throw them out, so he ate them anyway.

That, ladies and gents, is what it's like living with a BSC.

Happy Anniversary

Happy anniversary to BSC and I. It was three years ago today that we tied the knot after dating for four years (yes, it took him a while to pop the question).

I love you.

P.S. I felt the baby kick today.

Before we get started, has anyone else been having problems with comments lately? For the past few days I've run into some hassles while trying to comment on some blogs. Either the word verification image won't show up, or the comment page doesn't show up, or a message comes up saying that blogger cannot process my request at this time. What's going on here people?

Anywho ... so this past weekend my mom turned 50. That's right everyone, she's now the big FIVE-OH. After some secret planning and scheming with my aunt and dad we pulled off a pretty amazing surprise party if I do say so myself. So, I've posted some pictures from the party below ... enjoy:

Yep, that's good ol' BSC. He dressed up like a tennis yuppie for the party because all of my mom's tennis friends were there. No, it was not a costume party. Yes, he did it just to make fun of my mom and her friends.

This was taken right after my mom walked in the door. She was so surprised she started crying and hugging everyone. I guess she didn't know what else to do. We thought she knew the whole time we were planning, but I guess we pulled it off. That thing on her head? She had to wear that during the whole party.

The entire house was gobbed up with black and white streamers, balloons, and "over the hill" decorations. This particular decoration is my favorite. Look at that bouffant hair!!

She got gag gifts o' plenty. Here we see her holding up the rather large granny panties (I hate that word by the way).

I have more fun pictures to show like the rude cake we got her and Benny (our youngest cat) hung over after the big event. But Blogger has not only decided to give me crap about commenting, but now posting pictures seems to be a problem too. So sorry, that is all.