Falling

I don’t know if it is a coincidence or the newly huge belly with a little guy inside, but I have taken two tumbles in the last week. The first, I was coming up the stairs from our front door and tripped on the second to top one. I landed on my knee and my shin hit the corner of the concrete offender. I rolled over, onto my shoulder holding my knee in one hand and the shin in the other. Matt turned around to find me laughing as hard as I ever have. I couldn’t stop laughing-probably so I didn’t start crying. I lie there laughing for a good 2 or 3 minutes before I can take a breath and get up.
The second wasn’t as funny. It was dark and slick and I headed out to my car from my parent’s house with a warm bowl of soup in one hand and fresh bread in the other. I must have hit a patch of ice because I fell hard, right on my left side. It didn’t hurt until I stood up. The rest of the night my back, butt and leg hurt.

Random thought

You know what I love? I love going into public restrooms and getting a stall that has the toilet seat still up. I love this because it means that I am the first person to use this seat since it was cleaned. Even though I use the paper liners, there is just a good feeling associated with sitting on a clean seat. In fact I love this so much that sometimes I put the seat back up when I’m done so that the next person can have that same clean feeling, even though it is farce.

Working

So I’ve been working. I answer phones, activate people’s cards, answer questions about their accounts, etc. I like this job, but it is taking its toll. Matt likes to stay up as late as possible. I don’t, but if I want to spend time with him, I have to stay up late. We get up at 6 to make it to work on time, and I’m used to sleeping until 9 or 10. (NOTE: 6-10 are the best hours because I used to get the bed all to myself!)
It’s funny because Matt says that I’ve been pretty good and haven’t been ornery or hormonal like the typical pregnant lady. I think it is because I was getting enough sleep. Now that I’m not, I notice that I have NO patience, I feel sick all the time, I feel like crying almost all the time, and I don’t want to do anything when I get home, so I leave dishes and laundry to the last moment. Dinner on time? Ha! Not since I started this job.
So I love working, and bringing in money and all, but it really is ruining my life outside of work. I don’t eat healthy because there isn’t time, and I could use the sugar boost. I don’t exercise because I don’t have time. My skin looks awful because I’m not eating right or working out. I feel like a big fat pig that gets noticeably bigger every day!!
Wow, it felt good to get all that out. Is there anything a naïve first timer can do?

My not so secret crush!

So I am totally crushing, and I'll give you three guesses to who it is on.

No, it's not Taylor Latuner
Nope, not Shia Labeouf either
It's not even Brad Pitt

It's my husband!!
I realized that I've been crushing on my husband and here are the signs that prove it.

Clue #1: When he walks by me I can't help but stare, and admire him.
Clue #2: When he tells me he’ll be home soon, I get butterflies and really excited.
Clue #3: I try to look cute for him when he comes home.
Clue #4: When he leaves I feel sad.
Clue #5: I think of ways to make him happy all day. Ex: his favorite foods for dinner, folding his laundry, putting the TV on Sports Center, etc.
Clue #6: When I’m falling asleep or first waking up, I imagine us running away together (Lame I know, but true).

So I guess it’s a good thing that my crush is on someone that I get to have forever! I know this is a lame blog, but I can’t help that I am totally in love with my best friend and sweetheart!!

I’m pretty lucky.

Kitchen Memories

This is my first year having my own neighbors, so I was excited to make my very own “neighbor treats” for Christmas. My mom has an awesome recipe for Toffee, so she talked me into making it. I see now that she had devised the plan for revenge right from the start. You see, years ago when I was a ornery, hormone-raging teenager I had a little tantrum. Also pertinent to the story is that fact that I hadn’t grown since I was in third grade. I wore tall wooden shoes (that my mother bought for me)and long pants, to give the illusion that I wasn’t as short as I really was. ANYWAY, I was having an irrational tantrum, when I made a kicking motion at my sister. Well, the big old wooden shoe came off and hit my mom right in the forehead. I felt so bad and was so embarrassed that I ran away and cried for hours, I was too prideful to say sorry right then. I’m sure my mom saw that as me not caring. She had a black eye and huge goose egg.
I’ve always felt bad for that.
Apparently so has my mom.
So my mom and I are making Toffee and you have to heat the sugar up to 300 degrees. I was surprised how long it took because water doesn’t take long to boil, but this was very much hotter than water boiling. I was stirring it often like the instructions called for, and when it hit 300 I poured it on the cookie sheet to harden. I hadn’t even started pouring when I felt a searing pain on my wrist. Keeping my wits I put the pot back down carefully and flung my wrist away from the scorching heat. My first instinct was to grab the burn, but as I did, my left hand started to burn. I pulled it off to see that the sizzling candy was still there continuously burning more and more flesh.
I yanked the molten candy off my arm and held the burn. We are not taught to do this, we are taught to put it under cold water. Well, I was taught to hold a burn. My mom told me to put it under cold water, but I knew better. I held it with tears welling up in my eyes. I had experience with burns and knew that it hurt to hold it, but it would be worth it. My mother rushed to our Aloe Vera plant to cut off a piece. She split it open with a knife and spread the naturally cool, healing, gel onto my owie. That was the only time I let go of it. My brain kept telling me to release the pressure, but I didn’t, I held strong. About 20 minutes later I finally let go. It was red where I had been holding and slowly little blisters started to form.
I thought I had failed, because I was under the impression that if I was to hold it, it wouldn’t leave a mark. This has always worked for me, and I lost a little faith in the procedure, UNTIL I got online and read some stories about candy/toffee/sugar burns. Some people go to the hospital and can have Third Degree Burns! One woman doesn’t have use of her hand, another almost lost blood flow to her hand, and another needed a skin graft. All these things considered, I feel like my knowledge of burn care took an ugly situation and flipped it for good.
So I know my mom didn’t really want me to get burned, but I somehow thought that if I linked the two stories, it would ease my conscience about the whole shoe-in-the-eye incident.
It didn’t work.

I'm So Lucky!

So I have the best Husband EVER!!
A couple of days ago I had a really bad day and my cute husband came home with these bad boys for me:
Isn’t he the best?

If only I could hide my face like an Ostrich!

I was substitute teaching my little brother Aaron’s class last week and a little boy came up and asked if he could use the restroom. I said, “You can go when she gets back.” and the ‘she’ said, “You mean ‘He’.” I was confused and said, “She asked first, and then you can go.” looking back to the little boy. Again the ‘she’ said, “You mean ‘He’.”
I was as confused as you probably are. The whole class was staring at me, and my little brother, sitting two feet away, started laughing. I realized just then that the ‘she’ was a ‘he’ and ‘he’ was correcting me. I was so embarrassed. I tried to cover it up and just dug myself deeper. I finally just said, “You can go after HE gets back.” That seemed to pacify the class, but Aaron was still snickering at my uncomfortableness. I glared my baby brother down, but couldn’t help but laugh myself.
Oops.
The funny thing is, that his name is Tristan and he was wearing boy clothes. Earlier in the day I made mental notes, like: “Hmm… I thought Tristan was a boy’s name” and “She sure dresses like a boy” Those clues should have tipped me off that it was a boy, but for some reason they didn’t and I made a fool of myself.