34 weeks, 1 certified letter...

I don't know how many of you have been to the post office lately (main branch), but it *sucks.  Today, as I waddled into the post office with my little "you must come and sign your life away" notification in hand, I found myself in a line.

This wasn't any line, this was a line at the post office.  The post office where apparently NO ONE works.  I was lucky.  I was only the 7th person in line, after me came a slew of people that accounted for 32 total standing in line (yes, I counted).  The best part... there was one.... ONE..... ONE person working to help ALL OF US!  Seriously?  Can you imagine going anywhere else, having a line of 30+ people waiting around to be helped and only one person is there to help?  The best part is that when I first arrived, there were three people helping, but as the line got longer, they left.  REALLY!?!?!  The line gets longer and you leave?  I don't care if it was break time... or pee pee time.  Had I been at the end of the line, my child could have matured fully by the time I was finally helped by someone.  I'm pretty sure the person at the end of the line when I left is still standing there.

What is wrong with this picture?  SO MUCH.  I don't even know if I have the strength or patience to go into it all, but I ask LoUdLy and boistrously..... DEAR POST OFFICE, WHY ARE YOU SO UNHELPFUL? Have you stood in your line?

Oh, and here's a great kicker.  So, I finally get up to talk to a human and as she's helping me, she makes a mark on a tally sheet.  I thought it was odd, but I looked to see what it was and it was a sheet they were keeping track of the time, number of people helped and what they needed help with.  Can I make a suggestion?  Your sheet doesn't work!  Or how about this... put a surveillance camera up and check out how dang long your line is throughout the day!  How about simply having MORE THAN ONE person available to help your customers!

It's not the like post office has a niche clientele, they serve the PUBLIC!  Note: that is EVERYONE!  Last I checked, they aren't a boutique or specialty shop.  For crying in the night, they're the POST OFFICE!!

Heavy Sigh.... and they wonder why no one sends mail anymore, and why people prefer UPS or FedEx.  I don't think it has anything to with convenience of email or other forms of communication, I believe it's because the post office believes they are working with a population of 50.

PS - Dear my postal delivery person, I like you.  I actually like you a lot.   You're very kind and you do a great job.  Thank you for your work.  Can you please help the people in the main branch figure things out?


*Please note, I do not like this word, but sometimes it is necessary.

Photo Shoot

For a long time now (ok, so only 8 months) people keep telling me to do a pregnancy photo shoot or I'll regret it.  I know I'll have Whitney (the most fabulous photographer) take pics of the little guy when he arrives, but I wasn't too keen on someone taking pictures of my belly and me... I'm the size of a house.

Needless to say, I did it!  I trust Whitney very much and she had some fun ideas, so we went with it.  We almost went away in the wind while we were shooting, but that's another story!

If you want to see the sneak peek... go to www.blissstudio.net/blog.   OR  Take a look HERE!

By the way... isn't my child's father HOT!  (insert whistle noise)  Such a hot piece of man.

Anyhow... on to the pics!

It was a disaster...

People... it was a dinner time disaster last night.  Ugh, I get exhausted just thinking about it.  I got home from work, the gym and running errands, then started on dinner.  I was kind of excited to make this particular dinner because it was new.  Main course - stuffed shells.   See photo below (courtesy of Real Simple).

Let me digress for a moment and say  how much I LOVE Real Simple Magazine.  I L-O-V-E it.  My heart goes into a tizzy of excitement when it arrives each month.  It's so loved in our house that even Josh sneaks it away to find the recipes for the month.  We always try a few, if not ALL of the recipes they include.  I just love it.... LOVE it.  I hope you get the picture because I would hate for you to not understand my LOVE of Real Simple.  We clear yet?

Anyhow... all was going well.  Shells were made, stuffed and ready to go into the oven.  Here's where it all started.  I set the heavy dish filled with the dinner deliciousness into the oven (top rack), and AHHH the rack collapses on the right side.  Thank goodness I still had a hand on the dish or it would have been "bye bye".  Josh comes over, helps me get things back in order, places the dish on the rack himself (just to be sure), we close the oven, set the timer, and for approximately 17 minutes... life was good.  Dinner was in the oven, the house smelled delicious, and I was one step closer to heartburn for the night.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!  Timer goes off - DINNER IS READY!  I remove myself from the couch where I had been slumped, and waddle into the kitchen.  I grab my hot mitts and go in for the kill.  Open the oven, reach in....grab the bubbling deliciousness which I am about to devour... and then..... SLAM, sLiP, WHAM... "AHHH"... "SON OF A".... deep breath....."JOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHH"!!!!   The oven rack bailed on the left side, sending my entire dish on the slippery slope to spillage and slopping all over the oven, the floor, my left hot mitt.  You get the picture. 

In my haste to save some of the dish, I grabbed it and slapped it onto the stove top to sit while I assessed the damage (it also gave it time to cool before we ate the remains).   As I gazed at the mess in front of me, I could do nothing more than stare.  Have you had that moment?  Please say yes.  It's the moment where you just can't figure out the best way to tackle the mess ahead.  I sat and stared at the wreckage, this wasn't helping, but what was I going to do?  Not exactly easy to clean up a 400 degree oven!  Meanwhile, Josh comes bee-bopping in from the garage.  "What the...." he exclaimed as he saw me and the wreckage.  "I heard something, but figured you were OK", he said.  "Um, did you hear the crash and the battle cry for help" I asked.  He started laughing, he had only heard the crash.  We both laughed ... what else is there to do!  Laugh or cry... those are the options.  We laughed. 

Josh immediately dives in and starts cleaning up.  What a man.  What a MAN!  He's cleaning and I'm kind of helping, kind of pouting.  Then I exclaim loudly, as if it's the best idea EVER - "Let's just eat, and then we'll clean up".  So, we did.  We ate.  It was good.  Then we started cleaning up again.  It wasn't so good.

I tackled the dishes while Josh continued tackling the oven.  He had paper towels, toothpicks, Q-tips, Clorox wipes... you name it, he had it and he was determined to clean everything out.  GO JOSH!.  In the mean time, I get the leftovers packed up and ready for the fridge.  Josh decided his hard work deserved a beer, especially if he was going to finish the job.  So, he kneels down, reaches into the fridge to grab a beer and I ask nicely, "can you put this in there somewhere" (referring to the glass dish of leftovers).  As I so swiftly hand him the dish, I also WHACK him upside the head!  OH MY!  I start laughing hysterically... really, what a way to end things.

But the end is still not near.  Josh gets his beer, and goes back to cleaning the crevices of the deep dark abyss.  Suddenly... BLOOD!  The man somehow cut his finger right under the fingernail... YOWZA!!!  It was bleeding everywhere.  NEW MESS!  WAHOO!  I hand him a paper towel and although I felt awful, I started laughing again.  Let me explain... I get this from my mother.  Whenever there is an emergency, danger, injury, etc... LAUGH.... just burst out in LAUGHTER.  Preferably uncontrollable laughter.

Anyhow... after that, I told Josh we were DONE with the kitchen for the night.  I think you'd all agree, it was in the best interest of all parties involved.  We're just lucky a dog didn't hop in the oven or slip on the mess or something.

I'm tired and hungry now....

What a difference 4 weeks makes...

28 WEEKS! TWENTY EIGHT WEEKS! WOW!

Sorry it's late, I was trying to have one up every 3 weeks, but it just didn't happen.  Thinking about it, I made Josh snag this one real quick yesterday on our way to breakfast with family.  Sorry, my head was cut off again... what can I say, the man follows directions - "Love, please take a belly pic real quick".  Viola!  Belly pic is what you get!  This one is a little more head on than the last.  The last one he took standing up.  This one, he knelt down and was right level with the buddha...

It's a good thing I had him take it before breakfast!  Peg's Glorified Ham n' Eggs.... you are a marvelous place.  You filled my belly with deliciousness, but I am still sad I didn't order the French Toast. 

A Dog and his Outdoors

For most of you, you either have pets or you don't.  You either like cats or dogs.  And when it comes to dogs, you either like big dogs or small dogs.  In many cases, people think the only "Real" dogs are big dogs.  Too often the "little" dogs are seen as ankle biters, yippers, rats and lap dogs.  For those of you who feel that way, you have not met Tucker.

Tucker is my almost 5 year old Yorkshire Terrier.  He is the son of Oliver, my other Yorkshire Terrier.  They are most often referred to as "the boys".  Roxy, the lone female, German Shepard/Black Lab mix is their sister (through marriage - bless her heart).  As you can probably figure out... Roxy was Josh's dog prior to us meeting, and the two little guys were mine.  Now, I'd like to think they're all "ours", but let's face it, there are days when it is harder than usual for Josh to swallow that he has two "little dogs", rather than two more "real" dogs to go along with Roxy.

Although "the boys" do love Josh dearly, and I'm convinced he loves them as well, there are times when I wonder if they're "all there" in the head.  Tucker is truly an odd little dude.  I'm pretty sure he has no clue how big he is.  I'm pretty sure he has no clue he's NOT a hunting dog.  I'm pretty sure he has no clue that he's not meant to live in the wilderness.  These things, I am sure of. 

In my last post, you saw Tucker basking in the sun out on the patio.  Well, if Tucker could live outside, he would.  Unfortunately, when you're only about 7 lbs and you have hair, not fur, it's not in your best interest to LIVE outside.  Therefore, we must make him live inside and in turn, we suffer by constantly letting him out... it's a fun circus we've got going.  He is an anomaly of a little dog.  I believe he belongs in the wilderness.  Maybe he could be the new side kick on the show "Man vs. Wild" with Bear Grylls.... I think Bear could learn a thing or two from Tuck. 



To let you in on how deep his  love for the outdoors is... please glance below.  We were B-B-Qing and had the slider open to the back yard (ignore the snow shovel, it parks there for the whole winter and hasn't been moved yet).  Tucker, in his funny little way, perched himself out on the patio for a while, then as the sun started going down, he hopped up a level to get a better view(just barely inside), as to watch the majestic sunset take place in "his" backyard.  I'm pretty sure that if we crept into his mind, he was having thoughts like a lion "my kingdom is beautiful, and I will hunt just after the darkness".

The beginning...

Project "nursery" has begun!  We picked out paint, the bedding is in and we know the color of furniture!  Whew.  The little man is going to be SET!

The best thing of all is that Josh LOVES projects.  The man must have a project or he goes nutty.  This works out PERFECT because we've got lots and lots of projects ahead!

I'll keep you posted on the happenings as they keep happening.

Paint sample.... Don't worry, we toned it down :)

Josh's little helpers... they were very curious.  Roxy (the "big dog") could have cared less.

And then this was what I found one of the helpers doing later in the day... such loyalty.  Don't mind the photo through the window & screen.  I had to take it that way or his rest would have been disturbed.  Never interrupt the rest of a hard working dog.

Thanks to Josh & Kalai for painting!!! 

Too much!

So I'm trying to focus and really decide what we do/don't need for the arrival of the little man.  After sorting through oodles and oodles of crap, I have decided that the whole baby industry is.... well overwhelming and filled with way to much CRAP!

I can't tell you how mind blowing it is to have 4,952 different types of strollers, car seats, bottles, blankets, diapers..... along with the do's and don'ts for each one... NUTS!!!  People have been having babies and raising them for millions of years without all this shenanigans.... do I really need it?  Isn't there some SANE website or book out there that simply says "YOU NEED THIS, YOU DO NOT NEED THIS"?  Or, is there someone I could pay to get me all set up with the necessities and nothing else?  I just can't seem to wrap my head around it all.

I try to think of all the things I do/don't use on a daily basis and I can't imagine that an infant would use twice as much.  Really though, that's what these "people" make you think.  They actually make you think that your brand new infant who can barely do more than poop, eat, sleep and cry will somehow be able to tell the difference if I wrap him in a swaddle I do on my own, or a swaddle with Velcro?  Lord help me on this journey... isn't a hooded towel a hooded towel?  Oh, and could we please come up with ONE MORE type of bottle?  Really people... this is just out of control.

The biggest thing of all... I do not want to end up with tons of unnecessary "stuff".  I don't want our home billowing with "stuff".  Heck, I have a hard enough time keeping Josh and I somewhat organized with all of our "stuff".

Deep breath... deep breath.... in with the good... out with the overwhelming baby industry shenanigans.....