Year in Review (in pictures) : Part One

I'd like to take just a moment to review the past 12 months, since some of them have been the most memorable. I can't deny that 2009 has been my favorite year yet. Because it is SOOOO picture heavy (lots of never before seen pictures of my very pregnant body!) I'll do this in 2 parts. Today, January-June.

♥ January ♥ Mr. Bear and I found out that we had our little Baby Bear on the way. I was nervous but The Bear was wonderful, as always. My Grandpa was in the hospital with Pneumonia and my mom and I went to visit him. Spent lots of quality time with my sweet niece and nephew (practice for my own? Mostly I just love being with them!)





♥ February ♥ Went for long drives with Mr. Bear. Welcomed a new little Puggy into the family. Mr. Bear took me to Cali to visit some friends. I was feeling extra shitty this trip but it was a welcome vacation. Please notice how SKINNY I was. Ugh, and this was after I'd gained almost 10 lbs. *sigh* miss being thin. Celebrated my Grandpa's birthday. We were so happy to have him out of the hospital and doing well.









♥ March ♥ March must have been very uneventful because I only have 4 pictures, and none of them representing anything significant....I suppose being pregnant (and still keeping it a secret from almost everyone!) was a bit of a buzz kill. I think in March I was still going through Tequila withdrawls. It would get easier but at the time I know I was dreading a Summer with no margarita!



&hears; April ♥ April was birthday month. Dad, Amy, Cait, & Tina. Happy Birthday's! It is also the month we decided to put our condo up for sale and buy a town house. We got an offer but changed our minds and decided to stay put until we could save for a house in an area we'd rather live long term (*ahem* Sugarhouse). This must have been the month we told my family about the baby (they were happy) because I was pretty chubby at this point. Mostly The Bear and I spent a lot of time together. I loved his Angry Bear face more every day, and still do.







♥ May ♥ We were delighted to hear that our Baby Bear, or "Alien" as we were calling her at the time, was expected to be a GIRL! I thought it was a boy and during the ultrasound we made a bet that whoever was wrong had to buy the other dinner of their choice. Mr. Bear let me take him for Sushi, a nice compromise. May was my first un-official Mother's Day. The first of many to come. Also, The Bear turned 31! Woo, he sure is getting old. At the end of the month we went to Vegas for the weekend to meet some of The Bear's friends. Let's just say that walking the strip fat, swollen, pregnant, and stone cold sober is not that delightful. But I did have some delicious carrot cake and we discovered the most amazing hotel that has the biggest bath tub in the world! (I'm amazed I am posting this Vegas picture because I look awful and at the time I cried when I saw how fat my arms were....of course I continued to grow and right about now my arms in that picture look pretty damn good!)









♥ June ♥ I got really fat this month with only 3 1/2 to go before the baby arrived. I also began what ended up being a very long decorating process for such a tiny room. My first baby love, niece Ayla, turned 6. Why does she keep getting bigger?!?







July-December to come in the next day or so.

*Yawn*

I sat down at the computer at 9:00 intending to do.....nothing. To wait for my diapers to soak, to wait for my laundry to dry, to listen for my baby and hope she sleeps late into the night (or early into the morning) before she wakes to nurse, to ignore the quiet of a house void of Mr. Bear. Now it is 11:30. My diapers are STILL soaking (has it ever taken this long???), my other laundry is finished drying but I truly do not want to get up and fold all the millions of baby sized items, the wee one is still sound asleep, and...the house is still quiet and void of my love.

Life is good despite the cold and dark of winter. Though I do wish it was warm so I could pack up my darling and go find a shady spot to play and enjoy the Earth. If it is only December and it has only begun to snow then how will I feel when the misery that is February hits? February is misery because it is bone cold. The ground has forgotten what heat is and has all but given up on living. But, February means March is on the horizon which means April showers are not so far away. And although we'll likely get some snow in April (thank you Utah) it will mostly be warm. Warm enough for walks and daydreams of Summer! So, I suppose I would take February over December. Life is still good though. I have my daughter. I have The Bear, even if he has spent more of December away from me than he has with me, or it feels that way. Work is a pest but I am glad for it anyway.

I'm tired but I keep thinking I'll go get that warm laundry and do my duty. On the other hand....I rarely get quiet to myself so perhaps I should enjoy it? Likely I'll give into the tired and crawl in bed, my sleeping sweetheart barely an arms reach away, and get what rest I can. I do love to lie in the dark and listen to her little sighs. To reach over and place my hand on her chest when she stirs.

Tomorrow is another day with more life to face. I savor the goodness that is my own.

Happy

An anniversary and a birthday. I'm not much for celebrating holidays, or my age, but Mr. Bear always enjoys both....and I enjoy eating so I let him take me out to dinner on both nights. Grammy came to watch Baby Bear and Stephen and I enjoyed the peace and quiet we'd all but forgotten about during the last 5 weeks.



A year ago I had no idea that I would be spending my nights awake with the sweetest little bear I've ever laid eyes on. I didn't know how happy The Bear and I would still be together. I guess it's safe to say I didn't know my whole world would be different, and I'm sure glad that was the case because I don't think I would have appreciated it all as much if I'd known in advance. I always said that 27 was the magical baby age, that if I didn't have one by that time I would find a way to make it happen, even if it was on my own. Thankfully I didn't have to do it alone. It's just a guess but I think it would be a lot harder, and more lonely, without him.

*I'm posting this late....way late...but better late than never eh?

Hard To Say Goodbye

After almost 5 weeks of being mommy and partner full time I made the decision to venture out of the house, ALONE, for the first time. Just a quick trip to Target but it seemed like a major life event.



I was in search of a dress for my grandfather's funeral on Saturday; A heartbreaking reason to have to go shopping. I wandered around the store which seemed to be full of tired, crying children and exasperated parents. One little boy stood in the midst of the clearance section screaming, and I do mean screaming, at the top of his lungs. I glanced over to see a very embarrassed mother on her knees with her arms around her son, trying to talk quietly to him, which was proving to be difficult. The screaming continued until she offered a bribe enticing enough to quiet him down and they moved on. All around me babies cried, whined, begged for toys......is this what my future has in store for me??? My break was turning out to be rather traumatizing.

Armed with dresses in sizes so large I was ashamed to be carrying them I made my way into a dressing room, locked the door and looked up to see my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me was a pale, pudgy faced woman with dark circles under her eyes and little red bumps scattered across her neck and chest (thank you whacked out hormones). The plaid shirt I was wearing was ill fitted due to my super sized mom boobs and though I have often gone without makeup or fancy hair the result this day was nothing short of hideous.

Safe to say the tent dresses I was trying on for the funeral didn't work out. Even if I had found a dress my feet are still swollen a size and a half bigger than my pre-pregnancy feet so I had no heels to wear with it. Tired and somewhat depressed I climbed back into a car I no longer felt suited to be driving (fat, frumpy women and red, turbo Audi's don't mix). On the ride home I did what any woman in my super sized shoes would/should do; picked up a large coffee and a donut. The coffee to help me get through the rest of the evening and the donut to give my fat butt the middle finger. Baby Bear was happy to have her milk source home again and I was happy to snuggle with a soft little thing that didn't judge my frazzled appearance.



Today my Grandpa Carter passed away. I know it was his time and I know he was ready to move on from this life but it hurts just the same. He never got to meet my sweet Madeleine; I know he would have loved her, and she him. The last time I saw him we were rushed for time and space in the hospital room and, added to the fact that I am awful with emotions, I didn't say a proper goodbye. I kissed his cheek and held back tears; one can only hope he knew that was my way of letting him know how very much I loved him and how terribly his presence would be missed in my life. I hope one day my girl forgives me for giving her so many names and is proud to carry a piece of her Great-Grandpa Carter with her.



Baby Bear will hear stories of two great-grandparents that passed on shortly before, and shortly after, her birth. A life begins and others end. Thus the circle of life continues.

*Picture from a previous trip to the hospital in December of 2008, taken by Wickenden.

In The Moment

The house is quiet save a few little "mews" from my Baby Bear sleeping away in her swing. Desperate for 10 minutes in a hot shower I plopped her in the swing, something that makes me feel like a terrible & lazy mom, and after a few minutes of watching the rotating lambs she dozed off to sleep. I got a whole shower AND I got to dry my hair. AND I got to put her laundry away. The laundry that was piled up on the guest bed in her nursery/the room we use to change her diapers. How is it that one teeny tiny child can have so much damn laundry? It's unbelievable.



Now I'm exhausted and, although I know it's time for her to wake and have some lunch (isn't it lovely the way my body is a personal meal alarm?), I'm letting her doze a moment longer so I can sit and write....and enjoy the quiet. Instead of writing I could clean, God knows there is a lot of that to do, but the past month has been one huge moment of exhaustion for me and I am finding that a mother never gets to enjoy time to herself. So here I am. Enjoying it. Or trying to anyway.

In just a few days Mr. Bear and I will break* from our life as parents to spend our anniversary alone together. Welcoming this new year, one where I am not pregnant and growing fatter every day, is something I am very much looking forward to. I know that the coming months hold many unexpected events for me and my head is spinning with the thought that I am living a life so very different than the one I was living a year ago. You'd think that just becoming a mother would be life changing enough....but at the possibility of moving my entire professional direction altogether I am beginning to think my parenting position is the most normal of all the changes I'm facing. Lucky for me I am not alone in this. Having The Bear to support me relieves a weight from my shoulders, though I can't imagine he knows how hard it is for me right now. So, as I was saying, we will take our time this week to remember how much we love each other. And we do, Good God how I love that man. Now I can only hope some miracle presents itself so that his anniversary gift arrives on time....though I'm doubting it will.



Alas, my quiet time really must come to an end. Baby Bear needs the nourishment only I can provide.....and in a way I need it too.

*break....for a few hours. Not a whole day or night. God, I can't even imagine that right now. Although my mother would be thrilled if we did ask her to stay the night with the wee one. And Mr. Bear would be thrilled to experience an entire nights sleep for the first time in a month....but he's going out of town on business next week and for that he can just SUCK IT. Yep. I said it. Anyway, yes a few hours of break, which for me is enough.

Bring Back That Lovin Feeling

My hair feels dirty even though I shower every day. My arms and shoulders smell of milk and spit up. My shirts and bras are all spotted with milk stains, my bed sheets follow the same pattern. Next to me is a little, tiny, snoring baby, looking as innocent as can be. Her little chest rising and falling, her sweet lips twitching into a smile from time to time, the sweetest little bundle you've ever seen. She's napping well, I'm sure, due to the fact that all night long she grumbled and complained, squirmed and twisted, sleeping fitfully in her mama's arms (since she had no desire to sleep in her own bed of course) and wearing herself out. And me. Yes, don't forget about me. I'm tired too! And cranky on top of that. And it's only Tuesday.

Now it's nearly 4 hours later......Baby Bear woke, ate, snuggled, and now she is back in her favorite place; the soft spot in the middle of our king sized bed, head resting on a pillow while I'm here to watch her, close to her mama but comfy in her own space. Why can't night time be so easy? The little pill likes to stay awake for an hour or more every time she wakes up to eat, and she nurses terribly at night. This is all new for us as the last two weeks had been pretty good at night. So we're hoping it's just a phase. Or I'm hoping anyway.

I try to find patience during these late nights and early mornings though it's not always easy. Early this morning, while she hollered at my boob for not making her food come faster and easier, while she flailed her arms around and head butted my chest in her own frustration, I sighed loudly and said her name very sternly. It was a real parent moment come to soon. She jerked her head up to look at me, her eyes wide open and blinking as if to say, "Yes mother? Is there a problem?", and my heart melted just a little. Mostly I felt bad for scolding her even though she doesn't know her name and was just reacting to the noise not knowing what it meant. I don't suppose it gets any easier from here. One day, too soon I'm sure, she will know what it means when I say her name that way. She will look at me with her sparkly eyes and wonder why I'm such a mean cranky parent. And I'm sure my heart will break then too. Or maybe she'll have been so terrible I won't feel bad at all....but I'm not counting on it, and I'm not looking forward to it either.

Oh Baby Bear. Please stay little forever. But.....learn how to nurse and sleep at night the same way you do in the afternoons. Also, I can't believe you're almost 1 month old! We picked pumpkins last night for your first Halloween. It was cold and mama is still fat but here we are! /yet another mommy bloggeresque post

Nap & Milkstains : The Aftermath

When I found out I was pregnant at the end of January I reluctantly went to Barnes & Noble to buy some pregnancy literature. At only 6 or so weeks pregnant I still didn't FEEL like I was carrying a miniature little seedling inside of me so when the cashier asked me if the book was for me I told him quickly that, no, it was for my sister who was expecting. "Oh, well, kids are great", he said with a smile. I walked out of the store feeling uncomfortable (and really, what business did he have asking me such a personal question anyway?) and unsure of this new title in my life. Pregnant. What did this mean for my life as I knew it? So I began reading my book. What to Expect...I'm sure you've heard of it and, chances are, if you've been pregnant before you've read it too. Week after week month after month I read. By month 9 I was an expert, or so I thought.

Whatever mention there had been of the post-pregnancy experience I must have skipped over because I literally had NO idea what I would be getting. It's been nearly two weeks. Two weeks of beautiful frustration. Two weeks of naps and milk stains. Two weeks of tears. Two weeks of kissing soft cheeks. Two weeks of tiny hands reaching for my fingers. Two weeks of loving this absolutely perfect child that I created with The Bear and carried for 41 weeks. These are the moments I didn't know I had been waiting for.



Our little Baby Bear is delightful, there is no other way to describe it. Her sweet stares while she is awake, cooing, and wiggly arms are worth all the heartache I've experienced trying to feed her. Feeding time can be hell at the Bear home. Baby decided early on to make it as difficult for herself, and her mama, by refusing to actually work for her food. I suppose it shouldn't be too much to ask that the milk just pour gloriously from my chest into her open, expecting mouth. I would if I could but instead I patiently work, day after day after day, to help her understand that one must make a very small effort for each meal. She's coming around, slowly but surely, and in the end the work is all quite selfish; I love nursing this stubborn, willful, child.



No one really told me how much I would love loving her. "You'll love being a mom!", I heard them all say. But I doubted myself. I doubted my ability to be maternal. And perhaps I'm not perfect....but I love it all the same.

Arrival : The Alien Hath Landed : The Long of It

"She looks like an alien", Mr. Bear announced....

Thursday morning (September 17th 2009), 3:00 AM, contractions began. At 5 minutes apart I knew that it was the day. "Do you want to have a baby today?" I asked Mr. Bear assuming that we would wait through the day, go to the hospital that evening and...you know...have a baby. We waited...and waited and waited and waited, called my mom over, waited some more.....and that evening, when it seemed that contractions were about 3 minutes apart consistently and I was in significant pain (can I tell you about back labor now?) we headed to the hospital. After a frustrating, painful, uncomfortable, miserable hour at the hospital I was told that my day of labor had not progressed my cervix any further than I had been a week before. They gave me a shot of morphine (heavenly in retrospect but at the time I hated how it made me feel)and sent me home. Sleep, they told me. Had they ever experienced back labor before?

Friday, September 18th. Drowsy from the morphine and the pain there is nothing more to say other than I endured an entire day of 2 1/2 minute long, hideously painful back contractions. All day. ALL DAY!!! I moved from the couch only to use the bathroom. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Although my contractions were varying between 2 minutes and 9 minutes apart they were so long and so intense The Bear and my mom insisted we make the trek back to the hospital late that night. Equipped with more pillows than the night before (the delivery rooms might as well have been a sterile room with a metal bed they were so uncomfortable), and ready to insist that we stay no matter what, we checked in and began our hour wait. Inside I was crying. I knew the contractions were too irregular and they would send me home again. "How can I do another day of this?" I thought to myself. Next to me Mr. Bear and my mom waited, wondered, but I knew, I knew we were going home again, and my body was ready to give up. I felt defeated. Was it supposed to be this difficult? The nurse came into the room and watched as I endured a nearly 3 minute contraction, curled up in what was surely the most uncomfortable bed in the WORLD. I explained that this is what I've been dealing with since Thursday morning. Could she hear the pleading in my voice? "Please, just tell me I can stay and have this baby, please". Still, there was almost no progression. My heart sank. She left to call my doctor and as the time passed, minute by minute by minute 20, 30, 40 minutes, I began to hope. She returned with the words I had been waiting to hear. I could stay. I could stay in this awful place, in this awful bed, with this awful pain! I could stay and have my baby.

Back labor, it was hell. I couldn't remember what it was like to not be in pain. Epidural, broken water......still my progression was too slow. Alien was posterior....which by definition means she was causing me incredible amounts of pain with absolutely no result. Without help this could continue for another day, or more, who knew. It was at this point we named her Little Shit and began writing "I owe you's" on her behalf. They started a very light pitocin drip and shortly after we could see that it was enough to make the difference. I wouldn't be in labor forever, it was a relief despite the disappointment I felt with myself at the need for the drugs to get to that point. Time passed and exhausted I lay in the bed, a prisoner attached to monitors, IV's, and tubes, making no noise, just waiting for it all to end.

I don't recall what time it was when I rolled to my side and felt an excruciating pain in my neck. It was paralyzing and continued to get worse. There was nothing they could do for this pain, they told me. "This isn't normal", I moaned to my mom. Hours passed. There is no way to describe what these hours were like for me. I couldn't move or even lay still without the pain taking my breath away. Nearly 3 hours later, as Mr. Bear held my body up in the bed while I cried from the extreme pain, after being told time and time again that the pain would go away on it's own, someone recognized that I could not continue and a pain reliever was administered via IV. I'm not sure if I just imagined myself yelling at them, telling them I couldn't continue any longer in this pain, or if I was just crying loud enough to frighten the entire labor and delivery floor but I was grateful someone had heard me and saw my suffering as more than an over dramatic laboring mother who couldn't handle a little discomfort. The pain dulled just enough for me to lay my head back on pillows without crying uncontrollably as I had been for the last few hours(out loud or in my head, once again I'm not sure).

It was almost 9:00 AM on September 19th when I began to push. I was determined. I had not suffered the past 54 hours to fall short in this moment. I silently begged my child to turn into the correct position for delivery, and as if she was apologizing for the last two days, she complied. Unfortunately she began to feel the stress of our labor and her heart rate started to drop after each contraction. The nurse said that although I was pushing brilliantly the doctor may need to use a vacuum extractor to speed things up if her heart rate didn't return to normal. We had an hour to bring her into this world. A time limit. I forgot the pain in my neck. I forgot my fears. I concentrated all my energy into this little one trying fitfully to join her father and I in that hospital room. "Are we close?", was my continuous question. We were close. At 10:45 AM on 09/19/09 she arrived. My memory of it is mostly a blur. They put her on my stomach and I had my hands on her wrinkly, wet, little body for only a moment before they whisked her away. A respiratory therapist was in the room waiting to check her due to the possibility that she had swallowed meconium during the birth process. The Bear watched over her, camera in hand, just as I had asked him to. "She looks like an Alien" he called over to me.





Cleaned and swaddled they placed her in my arms and explained that she had swallowed too much meconium (she swallowed 7 milliliters we were told later that morning) and needed to take a trip to the NICU. Something about a CPAP machine. "Don't let her out of your sight", I said to The Bear. My heart ached as they rolled her out of the room, only minutes after she had arrived. She spent nearly 5 hours away from me. Mr. Bear sent us pictures and called me to give me updates. He loved her. She was his and she was beautiful. That afternoon he finally handed me our sweet baby girl. I snuggled her close, inhaled her sweet scent, kissed her rosy cheeks and I loved her.





The next day we named her Madeleine. Or, Baby Bear as she will be known going forward.

You Give Me, Something

Last week was my final week at the office before Alien arrives. This means I don't technically have to work anymore....though I spent most of the afternoon today checking up on stuff. MUST.LET.GO.

This ALSO means that I get to wear sweats EVERYDAY for the next week if I wish. And I do wish. Mr. Bear found a pair of HUGE sweats that he gave to me last week. I wear them every single day, from the moment I get off of work until the next morning, and I love them. Love.Them. I swear by pajamas. They may not make me feel look sexy but damn if they don't make me feel good.

Walking in the house at the end of the day, knowing I get to take my jeans off....and EVEN MY BRA IF I WANT TO!.....is seriously the best feeling. There is no greater reward for this pregnant hippo woman. The entire 5 minute climb up our 3 flights of stairs I just focus on the step ahead and remind myself that if I survive (and that is one big IF) I will get to take my clothes off. Aside: I'm sure Mr. Bear wishes I would continue to feel this way once I don't have a huge belly. But now I don't have to walk up the stairs to treat myself to my sweats! It's awesome.

The whole "no work" thing would be much more enjoyable if I wasn't getting sick. Yep. Thanks to some DB (read: DOUCHE BAG!) at the office who got Mr. Bear sick, I am now coughing and suffering a headache. I know that an achy body and sniffles are on the way, probably by this evening. I really REALLY do not want to be coughing during labor. I think the whole giving birth thing looks awful enough without adding a serious cough to the mix.

On the up side, perhaps I can just cough her out.....I know The Bear would think that was totally awesome.

Reflection

Today I am sitting at work, entirely overwhelmed and under productive, waiting on a miracle my boss to return so I can finish up this one pressing item on my urgent "to do" list (not to imply that him returning would be a miracle, rather getting any work done in our current state of software disarray would be a miracle), and rather than move on to one of the many other items I could be working on I find myself thinking of another "to do" list that I've greatly neglected in my recent state of pregnant exhaustion. I know Mr. Bear feels that I constantly talk about the baby, or how not ready we are, or what it will be like, or "ARE YOU SO EXCITED(?!?!?!?!)" but in reality I haven't done any of the things I wanted to do.

I wanted to take some time to connect, which I haven't done because if it doesn't involve connecting myself to the bed, or connecting a fork to my open mouth, I don't have the desire or energy for it. I don't know what I was expecting to connect with but I felt like pre-outside of the womb baby and I should have some special time and that would make some kind of difference. I hope I was wrong because we connect over ice cream (she likes it) but nothing much deeper than that.

I wanted to write. Not sarcastic complaining blogging writing but some serious words. I wanted to let the Alien know what these past 9 months have been like for me. I wanted to write about how scary, but amazing, it was to meet someone, find out you are having a baby with them, fall so in love you can't believe how lucky you are and proceed to gain 60+ pounds in anticipation of her arrival. I wanted to write about how I felt each day; how my back would ache and I would lay in bed with a hot water bottle watching television before dropping into a coma and waking The Bear with my snores, how strange, but reassuring, it was to watch my body morph into a walking Sci-Fi movie expanding farther than I ever thought possible, how I would lay in bed and watch her alien movements crawl across my belly and how I knew it was special because I was the only one who could see (it required too much patience for The Bear to watch), how someday she ought to buy me a closet of shoes because all mine are too small now....and that is a lot of shoes to grow out of.

I wanted to make everything perfect. And instead The Bear's condo is frequently a mess with my unfinished projects, unwashed laundry, disregarded dishes.....it just all became too much. I'm jealous of women who get to spend their working hours focusing on these things instead of sitting at a desk unable to do much else other than bookmark more junk from Etsy than any one person could ever need.

And now....now I have less than 4 weeks until that day the doctor has deemed my "due date" and I can't figure out where the time has gone. We haven't toured the hospital where this Alien is supposed to be born (and I'm sort of grateful because I'm dreading it, don't ask me why) and I haven't packed a bag just in case she makes an early entrance (please no, I don't have enough diapers or any clothes that would fit!). I don't know the number I'm supposed to call when I go into labor and I don't know what exactly we are supposed to do. I suppose I've been hoping for some divine intervention on all of this, but fear not, we tour the hospital tomorrow and I'm sure The Bear will think (hopefully) of any questions we should be asking. Me, I'm just overwhelmed by it all because 3 1/2 weeks isn't a lot when you think about the past 9 months and I am in complete shock.

I hope I remember how to hold a new born. It would be mighty embarrassing if I've forgotten.......

Grind My Bones to Make Your Bread

This past week Mr. Bear and I traveled to New England for a much needed and HIGHLY anticipated vacation. I didn't really have any expectations for our trip so it easily met all of them. Sleeping in until 10 and only feeling a little guilty, overdosing on carbs, dessert every night...the list goes on. Alien loved it too I am sure as she was wiggling up a storm the entire time.

Since I've returned she's taken to waking during the late evening/nights which is VERY UNWELCOME! Hear that baby? I do not care if you distort your body into every shape imaginable all day long. I do not care if when I eat you try to physically reach your hands out of my stomach so you can grab a bite for yourself. I do not even care if you get the hiccups on and off for 30 minutes distracting me from my work. HOWEVER I very much care that you have decided that 11 PM isn't good for sleeping but is very good for wiggling! I thought we had an understanding. You are officially grounded.

So, our week long vacation came to an end much too quickly and we headed home carrying with us a nasty cold. I spent the last 2 days with the sniffles but by the time we got home Stephen had been hit with a much more severe version of the same. He coughed up most of his internal organs and it is taking some time to get them all back in place. In the meantime I've had to hand over my place as pampered princess in order to nurse him back to health. This has been easy enough since he mostly requires a couch, a tv controller, and a reminder to take some medicine but trust me in 2 years when he groans about getting me a drink of water after we've both already gotten into bed (which he probably would never do) I will NOT hesitate to remind him of that time when he was so jealous of all my pregnancy attention that he got sick and ALMOST DIED FROM COUGHING just so he could feel special like me. It certainly wasn't easy for me to watch television while he rested all day Sunday. I can't do this forever you know!!!

I'd post a picture of us from our time together....but we didn't take any. Not even one! Mostly due to the fact that I am fat and hate my face and also due to the fact that Stephen was doing all the picture taking of pretty things like water and buildings. There are a few of me, looking ornery, but I won't post those either because MY FACE IS IN THEM!

We are back to the grind and can't quite figure out how we didn't win the 152 million dollar lottery (we forgot to get tickets doh!!!) so that is our goal for the next year.

♥ have an Alien
♥ win the lottery and NEVER WORK AGAIN!!!!!!!!

6 weeks. 6 weeks. 6 weeks. I'm not nearly prepared enough and I still scratch my head and wonder when all this happened and was I present when it all began? Because it just doesn't feel REAL. My doctor says that it is but I am not so sure. I think the beer just caught up to me.....

Melissaurous

I wanted to add two things relating to the events of yesterday.

One: If you are making a dinner for one and the food happens to be ravioli NEVER overcook it!!! It explains clearly on the package that overcooking ravioli means imminent death. I know this because it was capped and italicized TWICE on the package. Pretty sure this is how the dinosaurs became extinct.

Two: If you are pregnant and in need of a snack might I suggest a little treat I enjoy? Frosting...and chunky peanut butter. Yes. I only wish I'd helped myself to a glass of milk. If overcooking ravioli doesn't kill me my snacking habits surely will.

A Repeat

What's a girl to do when left alone for 3 days? Well, after suffering from immobilizing back pain for most of Sunday evening and throughout the night and then waking up exhausted with a migraine....that answer is sleep. A message to my boss, re-fluffing of the pillows and I didn't move from my bed until after 1 in the afternoon. Most people would be ashamed to admit this extreme laziness, and after a weekend no less, but I'm growing a human so I get a break. This growing business catches me a lot of breaks these days. A list? I think perhaps....

♥ eating chocolate at any point during the day
♥ eating chocolate MULTIPLE times during the day
♥ waddling....walking is way harder when you are holding a baby IN YOUR BACK!
♥ stains on every shirt I own. I still haven't figured out the dynamics of this belly.
♥ getting fat. Not only do I get away with the excess fat on my ass but people actually fall over themselves to tell me how great I look HA.
♥ sleeping all the time.
♥ crying. Mostly Mr. Bear has to deal with this, bless his angry bear heart, but I have to give props to the brother of the bear, and my own family. They all excuse the moods on a regular basis.

So, after prying myself from bed, I took an hour and half long bath reading trashy romance novels, watched re-runs of crappy tv shows, and ate a lonely dinner. And yes, I managed to spill a few drops on my PJ clad belly.

As if there could be any question, I miss Mr. Bear terribly and cannot wait for Wednesday night to be here. It seems I post these same sentiments every time he leaves, and I'm sure I'll continue to do so throughout my life (the traveling isn't likely to stop any time soon). But after many many years of bad marriage and bad dating I've finally realized what it's like to actually LOVE being with someone so much that even an afternoon without him is lonely. So I guess being sad without him is a reminder of how lucky I am to be happy with him around!

Over and out....I need to end my evening with more bad television and some peanut butter. Score.

It's Raining It's Pouring

I'd like to set the record straight about something. Something that I've been thinking about for a while.....Snoring. What's in a snore?

Growing up my dad snored. A LOT! Shake the house snores that would wake us up in our rooms DOWN THE STAIRS!!! And it just was. He was a dad. Our big cuddly teddy bear father who loved babies, loved his daughters, yelled in his sleep and snored like a grizzly bear. In my dating history I've known a lot of men who snore. One guy would snore so loudly, especially when he was drunk, and that was how I could gauge the depth of his sleep....or the depth of his inebriation. I'd hear my friends complaining about their husbands snores keeping them awake. My uncle would snore so much that it turns out he needed a machine to keep him from snoring because it made him stop breathing! Imagine an annoying sleeping trait actually being something that is dangerous. I never would have known.

One consistency about snoring? Men do it. Dad's, husbands, boyfriends, uncles...it's a manly thing to do! So it was a very shameful day when a few weeks after Mr. Bear and I started dating he said, "you snore. It's kinda cute.". "I know" I said...and I did know. There was always that awkward moment with a guy when they discovered that I, yes little ol' me, snored just like my pop (only maybe not so loud, and without the yelling). I had been a little congested and I assured Mr. Bear that I only snored when I was sick. Then I got pregnant. The snoring increased. "You see Mr. Bear, pregnant ladies get all this soft tissue in their nose, or something, and it makes them snore! I'll show you the article. Google it!". Then Spring hit and I made sure to let him know that when I had allergies it made me snore. And the rain! The rain was nice to listen to at night with the window open, but all the cold air made me stuffy and...you guessed it.....that makes me snore.

I could spend the whole year making up excuses for my snoring but it would be SO.MUCH.EASIER. to just say this one thing. Women snore too. Though you can imagine my delight on the days I get to roll over and say to The Bear, "you were snoring last night....". It's very satisfying to my womanhood (is that a word?).

I wonder if the Alien will snore like her Poppy too?

*Edit to say: Would you like to make a bet on how cute he thinks my snoring is now? Read: NOT AT ALL!!!

A Lump by Any Other Name....

I've been thinking that I would wait to blog until one of the following happened: I had some cool pictures to post and say "Ooo bright and shiny!" and that would be that, OR I actually had something really incredible to write about. You know the old clever, witty, funny trick that I used to be able to pull out of my magic hat. Alas, neither have happened and I realize that I just need to stop by my old stomping grounds and say that I'm alive.

These days I'm consumed with the fact that my bra hurts if I wear it for more than, OHHHH, 1 minute let alone the 10 hours a day I am required by fashion law to abide by. Or if we're really getting down to the nitty gritty details of what has become my life I should confess that sometimes (read: pretty much every day) I take my shirt off only to see crumbles of my after lunch snack tumbling down my big fat pregnant belly and onto the floor. I might stare longingly at those crumbs, notice the pink chunk mixed in, and sadly mourn that yummiest bit of frosting I couldn't manage to get into my mouth. Really those crumbs are remnants of the best parts of my day. Parts that don't include, "Ow, my back, I just...my legs, ugh, they are twitching...DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT IT HURTS TOO!!!" and just when I get comfy needing to get up to pee.

Mr. Bear might tell you what a delight I am to live with and how he really loves me more every day, and I agree that it's sweet, but unfortunately it's one big fat lie. I complain and whine and expect him to fix everything. I get tired just in time to skip out on dish duty and cleaning the toilet makes me sick (not a side effect of pregnancy fyi just regular life with me), I hog the covers, snore, sleep in a fortress of solitude, half fall in the shower leaving him to worry about my capability of walking without him standing behind to hold me up, and I gain 40 lbs so seeing me naked is no longer an enjoyable event. Also, I can't even reach into the washer so he had to change my laundry for me which is the worst part! But, on the bright side, my boobs have maintained their ginormous status and are likely to do so for some time to come, so I may be fat but if all else fails he can just look at my cleavage and know there is still an upside to this life with me.

In reality we are both really really looking forward to the day that the lump between our hugs is an actual fleshy child and not just a lump of hard belly. Things are bound to change but being able to snuggle, among other things, in comfort is one I will never take for granted again!

Reflection of the Overweight & Emotional

If I had to made an educated guess, and by educated I mean a guess with no formal research whatsoever, I would say that every pregnant woman hits a point in their pregnancy when they step back, look at their fat face in the mirror, and contemplate if being SUCH a bitch is really necessary. In my case I can't say that it is necessary, rather, it is one of those sticky situations I get myself into that is hard to recognize until well after the tears and erratic hand motions have ceased.

I'm the sort of girl that jumps the gun in getting upset. Time has trained me to assume that no man will have a calm discussion with you and so get the first word in, because it surely will be your last. I also require a certain period of time to dissect every word I said and think, "Hmmm....did I REALLY mean that I think his dog is a stupid whore?". Usually I don't. Unfortunately I have yet to discover a way to catch my mouth before it spins out of control.

Luckily, for all of the involved, I haven't acted on my VERY STRONG desire to throw things. This is an urge I've had to resist since I was a kid; crying uncontrollably in my room, woe is me my parents hate me because I'm fat and it makes me want to KILL LITTLE BUNNIES, so instead I'm going to throw this wood bunny REALLY HARD. And when it cracks against the wall the tears just turn to emotional self mutilation....woe is me my parents hate me because I'M PSYCHOTIC AND BREAK SHIT....you get the point. Now, when I'm angry, I just think about how damn good it felt when that cute little bunny left my hand and how if I can just find the nearest *searching searching* item *searching* that I can actually pick up *searching* I can get that same satisfaction.... but I have learned a lesson or two in my life, and I remember clearly that throwing things only makes one look crazy, not in control, and usually doesn't make me feel better. As a side note I should mention that I have no desire to throw things AT someone, just in the general direction of a wall.

So, this is my public apology for being a crazy bitch.

Also, may I gently remind those that I love that it has been about 4 1/2 months, 18 weeks......or 127 & a HALF days since I've had any Tequila. Or Xanax. Not that I'm keeping track. If you love me you'll remember this next time you see me desperately searching for a cotton ball to throw while I cry and mumble obscenities concerning your dog and her whoreness. Or is that my dog?

Poor Mr. Bear

Week 23 of being with "Alien" has arrived and I couldn't be more.....ornery about every damn thing that goes on. Sunday our breakfast server was a jack ass. Why? Because he was. Isn't that reason enough? The cashier had an annoying voice, and by annoying I mean incredibly cheerful, but paired with her spiky hair it was just THAT MUCH worse. The people behind us had a cute little girl who dared to talk loud enough for me to overhear, "WHY can't people control the mouth's of their 3 year old? We're in public for Christ's sake!!! NO TALKING ALLOWED!!!". It was hot outside. Fucking weather. Doesn't the sun know I'm pregnant and ornery as hell? Apparently not because it just kept shining. People drive too slow, or too fast, the sun shines at the wrong angle, my blanket got twisted, I forgot to turn the air conditioner off/on and I'm UNCOMFORTABLE, someone is getting married/divorced and wants to talk about their emotions (I'm not the only one with those things?), someone is having a conversation and IT REALLY IS BOTHERING ME!!! You see where I'm going with this?

Poor Mr. Bear.

We've gotten the itch, like many other expecting families have been known to do, to make the most of our small space by re-organizing. This includes down sizing furniture which actually costs money (SURPRISE!!!) although in the long run it is totally worth it. Naturally as first time parents we have a lot of things we'd like to invest in for the baby, and ourselves, and it's frustrating to see how many items hold a price tag over $100.00. At first it seemed like just a few specific items....now, in addition to furniture & accessories that is all expensive even for a good deal, we have baby decor & clothes and clothing for me, which is totally overpriced. $50.00 t-shirts??? I don't even spend that much on shirts normally! Alas I keep getting fatter, something about growing a child, and 5 multi-colored shirts and tanks that no longer cover my bulging belly just aren't enough to keep me feeling positive about the way I look. Poor Mr. Bear has enough reasons to keep me from crying and hating myself every morning shouldn't have to be one of them. So, we buy, and buy, and buy. A lot of money, and a lot of effort later, the condo is in shambles and I still cry a lot. It feels like it might never end and I seem to find more and more to add to the already huge list of things to do. Walking 3 flights of stairs at the end of a work day and then feeling like the whole place is out of order is really exhausting, for both of us.

I wish Mr. Bear and I could just jump on a very air conditioned plane and fly away to the beach somewhere....and that it could be free. I deserve it because I'm fat and tired and growing an Alien. He deserves it more because he is carrying a much bigger, and much less adorable, load than I.

Poor Mr. Bear. But lucky me, I couldn't wouldn't want to do it without him. Yes lucky me, and very lucky Alien.

Happy BIIIIIIRTHDAAAAAY Mr. President

Today is my very favorite person's birthday. Mr. Bear is turning 18! Finally our relationship is legal!!! Having a baby with an underage man was really an emotional burden for me.

In all seriousness....Mr. Bear is the most wonderful man. He makes every day a joy. Because I love me a good list I'm going to list all the things I love about him, and being with him (in no particular order of course):

♥ He makes me laugh. Out loud. A lot.
♥ He knows how to rub my back, not too hard not too soft
♥ He is a great housekeeper! (haha)
♥ He tells me I'm beautiful and wonderful every day
♥ He loves to cuddle
♥ He's really sexy
♥ He never forgets me when he's out of town
♥ He makes me a better person
♥ He always tries to be a better person too
♥ He loves my family
♥ He loves his own family, SO much
♥ He feels comfortable leaving creepy messages on my sister's voice mail
♥ He drinks beer just to prove he's a real "man"
♥ He holds my hand when we walk
♥ He is super smart! I'm always learning new things from him.
♥ He has nice handwriting
♥ He tolerates my eating habits (from veggies, to sushi, to peanut butter in bed)
♥ He will let me have a pug *wink*
♥ He has made so much room in his life for me, even though it isn't always easy

And FINALLY.....
♥ He actually wants to get old with me (and I believe him, kind of)
♥ He will be the most wonderful father in the whole entire world, and I couldn't be happier.

This isn't all, or even close to all, of the wonderful things I could say about him. But it's a good start. I noticed that a lot of my list includes the word "me" and maybe that is the thing I love the most. That there IS a me in his life. And even though there are easier women (no pun intended) in the world, he put up with my shit long enough for me to realize how LUCKY I would be to include myself in a list of his wonderful things. I wish everyone could hug a Bear today....I know I will.

What's in A Name???

Girl Alien has an ETA of September 12th, 2009. Mr. Bear and I are anxious for her arrival. I don't know if I'm more excited for the Alien herself or to work on getting my body back (kidding, I'm totally more excited for my body). Surprisingly it doesn't matter how much you cry, tears don't burn ass fat. I guess eating ice cream doesn't either.

Mr. Bear is a man wonder. Honestly, I don't know how anyone does ALL of this with a lesser man. He couldn't be any more kind or sensitive (in a very manly way) with me and all of my traumatic emotional breakdowns. He COULD have been better at getting me curly fries when I wanted them...but, it's too late now, I don't want them anymore. Lets see how he fixes all the insensitive things that people at work say (ex. "you're just getting fat all over"). If he still loves me at the end of all this I will be truly impressed.

And, to save any nosey people from the questions:

♥ No, we won't be getting married (I don't need a paper document to justify my desire to have a child with this man)
♥ Yes we're excited
♥ Yes I will keep working
♥ Yes I will give birth in a hospital with pain reducers (and my sister and mom are totally ok with this)
♥ Yes, to all those questions that end in the idea of whether or not Mr. Bear and I will do what is best for our Alien in every way. The questions may vary, but we only want the best so yes is our answer.

♥ & NO I don't think she is getting a complex because I call her an alien. Now, if I called her a big headed alien (which she is) I would expect to catch some grief. Assuming she cannot read my blog and cannot read my mind I think we're safe because I only talked about her big head out loud one or two times.

♥ Oh and really, I shouldn't have to say this, but of course I'm more excited for an alien. Totally worth the fat, and I get big boobs. Get with the humor program.

April Showers (of snow)

Wow. I mean, wow. It's April. Mid April even! That means there has been.....A LOT of weeks this year! I don't know how to express my awe at the passing year in any sort of intellectual way.

We've already had our first BBQ which is pretty amazing considering that today it just snowed again (once again, MID April). A note about BBQing: Apparently you shouldn't let a vegetarian prepare your meat, we don't know what we're doing. Additionally you should not let a meat eater prepare a veggie burger; they do not take as long to cook, veggies are good "medium rare" too!

April is a really exciting and/or exhausting month (mostly exhausting). It's the official family birthday month. 6th, 7th, 8th, 14th.....If I told you about the day Mr. Bear and I spent birthday shopping I'd have to take a nap, and it's almost my bedtime.

My baby sister turned 18 this month!



I love this girl. I mean, I really REALLY love her. Mr. Bear generally endures a 10 minutes gush session, on all the things I love about her, at least once a week. Don't even get me started on Baby Cake (nickname). Let's just say that fuzzy brown babies are way cuter than "blonde" ones. This fall she will hopefully be working for us while she goes to COLLEGE! (probably didn't need an exclamation...) I can't wait. Also, this is the only one of my sisters who's love for Pugs comes anywhere close to my own. She kisses their tummies and puts them in the bath. On second thought, I think she loves them more because I won't even do that. Happy Birthday Cake! And happy birthday rest of my family...and all the friends who have April birthdays too.

Monday we had my niece and nephew for the evening. I learned that my nephew likes to lay on the floor of RC Willey and say he's dead. There is nothing you can do about it. People may or may not look at you strangely as the step around him. He also likes to turn the lights on inside my car, drink rootbeer and touch Mr. Bear's television with sticky fingers. Oh, and he cuddles A LOT (love it!). I also learned that my niece smells much nicer after a bath (who knew a 5 year old needed at least one bath over the weekend), is very good at the grocery store checkout, & will totally blame her brother when she gets in trouble. I only cried for about 10 minutes when the left because I'm pretty sure I'll be a terrible mother. Shit.

I'll close this lengthy and pointless update with one thought. Colbert rocks. That probably qualifies as FACT and not just a thought. Also, snow is an ass hole.

*edit: change all the "the"'s that don't make sense to "they". I'm too lazy to do it myself.

Your Turn to Do the Dirty Work

I wish I had a lot to say but I don't because I'm just.so.tired. And I can't sleep and my back hurts from tossing and turning. So that is what I have to say, along with a million other things that I won't say because I'm just.so.tired. And I can't sleep...You get the picture.

I'm currently displaced, in the middle of being IN place, and let me tell you THAT shit is exhausting. Building things with tools is not something I recommend for healthy relationships. I would say that you'd be better off letting him do it...while you, the woman, slaved away on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy. NOT that I would do this, but, it's a suggestion. Other options would be to make Nachos. Said things that were built with tools are now very useful. I have a much needed nightstand that I use to collect piles of useful junk such as vitamins, water bottles, hair pins, earrings, tissues etc etc. Mr. Bear uses his to hold the 10 billion remotes that make the television turn on and off. Strange since the only things we watch on it are the Apple TV downloads and the one mini Apple TV remote usually stays lost amongst the piles of blankets and pillows on our bed. Apple, I shake my fist at whomever decided to make that damn remote so teeny tiny...and white! Real remotes are large with flashing buttons and alarms.

People at work whisper behind my back about how I'm getting fat(ter). If they said this to my face I would say, "I know!", or "really? I guess that is why I'm not supposed to eat those curly fries for dinner every night?". Instead they say it to my friends and then I cry and say they are ass holes. As Mr. Bear would say, "Indeed!". But I cry without tears, because real girls don't cry with tears. As for the fat, well, they'll get used to it eventually, and I imagine they will feel really bad about gossiping!

Bright and Sunshiney Day

First of all...I know. Shitty blogger right! Please let me explain, let me tell you all the reasons I've failed as your internet Savior (please, don't try to deny it), I have so many good excuses. First of all I quit my second job. FINALLY! This doesn't contribute to my shitty bloggerness, I just wanted to talk about it. Actually, I only have two reasons. A) I've been really busy at the one job I DO still have and I refuse to computerize my evenings away at home and B) My life is totally and completely boring so I have nothing funny or witty to share with you.

I could tell you that I hate when my sleep is disturbed by the need to get up and pee. I mean, who wants to get out of bed at night just to go to the bathroom? Not me! I've been sleeping through this pestering feeling for as long as I can remember and now I'm beginning to think that perhaps I drink too much liquid? Either way my bladder and I have had a talk and I expect it to be on its very best behavior going forward.

But, chances are you don't care about my bladder and it's misbehavior and would much prefer to look at pictures from my recent trip to L.A. Maybe I'll throw one of a pug puppy while I'm at it just for cuteness sake.



Stephen took Carly and I to La Reve at Wynn in Vegas. It was tons of fun! As you can see we are really interested in what is happening. Carly is likely checking out all the bald "Joe's" doing splits on poles. FYI to all the men out there, she likes the splits not baggage!



Flowers bloomed from the sky for us!



The water stage the performance took place in/on.

After Vegas we headed on to L.A. First stop Hollywood! There is supposed to be the Hollywood sign behind us but it was too far away...and our faces were the number one priority. Hello!



We brought Carly as a peace offering and it worked for at least one night. It looks like we're all couples. Cute/throw up! I left the red eyes on there just because I'm awesome like that/super lazy.



Stephen and his boyfriends (can I call them that?) were happy to see each other. Here is where I mention that they used to be obedient to "The Lord" and all served a mission together in Russia like dutiful man boys do (the serving no the together in Russia part). Hope I don't get in trouble for saying that!



And now I will share with you a small portion of pictures from our day at the beach....and one of a pug puppy.

Resolved

A lazy weekend. Finishing the first book in its entirety for the first time in who knows how long. Hour long baths. Sleeping in and enjoying the quiet. The Dino museum with two little edible, delightful, insightful, intelligent children. Wonders, worries, conversation and enjoyment.

Now, the blog I began in the early afternoon of my lazy Sunday, will be completed, sans jokes and/or silliness, and I will brush my teeth and be off to have a delicious dinner of curry & shrimp (seafood being the only meatylike enjoyment I allow myself) with my parents and the pugs. Maybe a sister. Tomorrow I go to work and the madness that is "Month End" begins. Lucky for me I don't work "Second" until next Saturday. These days finding energy to face reality isn't easy. 2 jobs just isn't so delightful. Who would have thought.

The Ultimate

Where to start. Well. I haven't put make up on in WEEKS (now turning into months) I've stopped trying to remember if I'm wearing the same shirt as I wore 3 days ago (hey if it's clean I'll take it!), I've been snacking on the same Blueberry Luna bar for 3 days...the same bar that I threw half of up on Tuesday because of that lovely Tequila hangover, I got a manicure today and my hands are UNrecognizable....do you really want me to continue? Because I can. Don't get me started on shaving. Underarms are a stretch this week.

And yet, I'm chipper and listening to Bryan Adams while I blog(yeah what are you gonna do about it. FYI my jokes about the music I listen to are NOT jokes. I really do have a Michael Bolton album, just one).

There are 5652 emails total in my Outlook. Who is even noticing that I have 15 unread emails in my inbox and I can't read them because I can't even find them! 22 voicemails....that's nothing compared to my usual 45 (that is the max my phone can hold). I probably shouldn't make a joke about how there are only 22 because I just erased half of them the other day. Awkward! And the paper. My desk is being held responsible for holding 1/2 of the world's rain forest's hostage. Believe me I don't take that accusation lightly. Oh the guilt.

And yet, I'm drinking a Dr. Pepper (lovehandles, what? Huh?) and wishing I could be headed to my vaca in California right this very second. I took a 2 hour lunch and left my phone on silent. I'm really only concerned about finishing my work by 5 so I can go home to Mr. Bear, a delicious cranberry & blue cheese salad & a fancy bottle of wine. Oh, and Grey's. We aren't risking the recording disaster again today so you now know what I'll be doing at 8PM this evening and you better believe it won't be working from home.

In My Moment of Weekness

first of all. I know. I was an English major for, like, a week. Not kidding. Impressive I know. Now on to the story.

Mr. Bear is constantly hassling me to learn his ultra fantastically difficult television remote system. I, ever so kindly, decline at his every insistence. Find me one good reason on God's good earth why I should learn how to push lots of buttons and possibly royally fuck SOMETHING up, as I am known to do (I can hardly figure out how to use a garage door opener for hell's sake!), and I will learn. Unfortunately Mr. Bear, a very ANGRY Bear, only found reason enough to convince me I should learn to turn the overcomplicated device OFF. It came in handy once or twice but I won't lie, I'd much prefer the alternative, which is to wait for him to get in bed and then remind him that the tv is on and I, the incompetent home invader, can't remember which red buttons to push and he has to get up to turn it off. Actually, on second thought, I don't prefer the alternative as much as I REQUIRE the alternative because when you have twentysevenmillionty remotes, all with a few red buttons of varying sizes, a girl like me, who has never paid for cable in her life (if it doesn't come with the apartment it must not be very important), is hard pressed to remember which damn red button to push. And in what God damn order?! "The black one? There are 5 black remotes! The black remote with the red On button? Ok got it!" and then the radio starts blaring from the laundry room. You get my point.

Anyway, tonight I was left to my own devices as Mr. Bear fulfilled his "work obligations" and drank Patron without me. It all started off innocently enough with the thought of a big lonely house.....I immediately decided to break into Mr. Bear's condo so I wouldn't feel so ALONE. Maybe I'd read a book. That was my single resolution was it not? "Strange" I thought to myself, "I feel like there is something very important going on today???". Oh man, important was an understatement! Today is my favorite day of the week, Thursday!!! Not because it comes before Friday, although that is a lovely thought, but because Thursday is Grey's Anatomy night!

In my mind I know there is a little highlighted section on his Tivo blinking with the indication of a new recorded piece of heaven. Wish I would have taken those lessons after all. Brilliant idea! I'll call him and make him teach me over the phone. I'm a smart girl, it could totally work. And work it did. Even though he MAY have been a few (dozen) sheets to the wind he walked me through the process and BAM there was my highlighted euphoria.

I wish I could end this story with how AWESOME Grey's was tonight but, of course, the one night I show off my incredible remote control talents the show stopped recording about 5 minutes in. It, like this story, was similar to seeing Brad Pitt get ALMOST naked (in person!) only to find out he's really a chick, and not even a hot one! Buzz kill. So I watched shitty Utah news until I got pissed off about the talk of stupid new Utah liquor laws and shut it off. I kind of wanted to leave it on for whenever he got home the next day but I figure it's not nice to take my anger on an innocent man. At least not when he was possibly sleeping peacefully in a comatose-like fashion. Instead I'll just let him continue to get out of bed to turn it off at night, knowing I probably could do it without breaking too much in the process. Yeah, this is a brilliant plan.

9 Times Out of 10

Mel: When Yenchi has a pug puppy we should have one! Kidding!
Mr. Bear: We can get a pug puppy...but it's yours if you leave me. And it has to be a Yenchi pug puppy. Small.
Mel: You never know. There's no guarantee.
Mr. Bear: We'll just get a girl.
Mel: There's no guarantee.
Mr. Bear: 9 times out of 10 girls are smaller.
Mel: You're so full of shit! You just made that shit up.
Mr. Bear: Google it!
Mel: You just made that shit up.

Just one of the awesome conversations we have through out our days together. But you better believe he loves those little shit fucks more than he ever thought possible. Shedding, snorting, begging and all. It's amazing what a little affection for a person can do you for you. He has also finally learned that regardless of what he might insist I am always right. No point in arguing when you're with someone who knows everything. *shrug* Yeah, sometimes it's tough to be as awesome and as perfect as I am. It's a cross I am will to bare (bear? haha)

Talking Shit About A Pretty Sun....set

I hate winter. It's as simple as that really. There is nothing about it I really enjoy other than looking through the window at a beautiful snowy mountain with the heater blowing on my skin. Even the lovely view can be enjoyed vicariously through photographs taken by those who choose to venture out into the brittle temperatures of winter. But for now I'm stuck here and although people claim we will see "warmer" days (what is warm when we are speaking of temperatures just above freezing?) or that we are, "turning the corner into Spring", I still dread waking up and subjecting myself to the COLD air. Cold. Cold is what you feel when you walk outside and there is ice and snow. So the sun is shining, big deal. Fuck you sun. Do you enjoy to tease me with your brilliance? If you're so awesome then why don't you heat me while I lay poolside, half naked, sipping a margarita? That's right sun. You're not so awesome. You can't fight winter either. You and I, we're not so different. Winter is our nemesis. It overpowers us even at our best. Sun, I suggest you see a counselor to figure out why you insist on letting Winter slap you around like a little bitch. Then maybe we can be on speaking terms once again. Until then, don't call or write. We're officially on a break until you see the severity of your actions. Or lack of.

Give Me A Reason

*FYI I tried to format better with the pictures and descriptions at the bottom but I don't know computer shit and so I did the best I could with what I had. Which wasn't much. Who knows how terrible it looks on YOUR computer screen.*

Ahhh well the holidays are finally over. Finally being the key word. No more discussion about how much of a Scrooge McScrooger I am, no more "Cheer" and if my neighbors are smart there will be NO MORE Christmas lights up and down the streets sending me into seizures with their bright and shiny glow. I am celebrating the new year with hopes that next year I can pretend Christmas does not exist. Though I say the same thing every year and have yet to avoid or ignore it's presence. Looking back I might say that 2008 was just like the year before with more or less of certain things. Things will now be listed below, bulleted and randomized as is my fashion.

More

♥ Tequila drinking
♥ working (hence the tequila)
♥ laughing
♥ questioning (everything)
♥ heartbreak (but life does go on)
♥ opportunities
♥ Sex (kidding just checking to see if you were truly paying attention)
♥ pink eye. Not just more...for the first time EVER! TWICE!
♥ eye drops, because now I'm addicted
♥ spending money on good food
♥ partying at cabin's with younger boys
♥ shotgunning PBR & corrupting adult men who have never shot gunned a beer...or tasted PBR
♥ delicious beer
♥ fancy wine
♥ getting older

Less

♥ crying
♥ wasted....ness (or so I'm trying to convince myself)
♥ showering....I'm sure we both wish I was kidding. But I'm not! It really seemed like a good idea at the time.
♥ likewise....less shaving my legs. Awesome is what that is.
♥ close friendships with people I've known for a long long time. :(
♥ reading. I sense a resolution for this one.....
♥ eating meat! I just totally high fived myself on this one.
♥ caring about people who don't care back
♥ being single for years at a time

Some of these are sad to me but I need to laugh at them. Some of them are happy for real and I'm laughing remembering it all. Some of them don't make me feel anything at all.

Now for as much as I hate the C word I must admit the holiday helped to make my blog MORE COLORFUL and full of pictures. Here are some things I did in December.

Got pink eye and took creepy up close pictures of it! Proof....in case you needed/wanted it. My doctor told me it was pretty awesomely intense. In so many words.














Went to a work Cword party and won employee of the year for the accounting department, among other things. This means I'm a bad ass.











Cried, drank, and put on party hats with Carly Ray to make me feel better.











Had the best parents in the whole world.











Dated this man.













but moved in with this one.











Laughed at pugs jumping around my lap....AT THE KITCHEN TABLE!











and took a tequila shot with some of my very most favorite friends to celebrate...something. What a delightful way to end the year.