Wednesday, July 29, 2009
New photos
Today at work, a friend of mine commented on how old my photos are. When I started at the hospital, I immediately decorated my little cubicle with about 20 photos of my family... which are now pretty faded and worn. Not to mention out of date. So, since I can't be troubled at the moment to *print* photos, at least I can blog this update of what my family now looks like:
Also, please note the Diego and baby jaguar getup for my kids. Sam is very concerned about appropriate attire these days--needs to wear a pirate costume to watch the Dora pirate movie, a fireman costume to go to the fireman movie yesterday, and... well, you see the rest.
Sam: grown up
Grace: suddenly unbald
Boss: prego
Also, please note the Diego and baby jaguar getup for my kids. Sam is very concerned about appropriate attire these days--needs to wear a pirate costume to watch the Dora pirate movie, a fireman costume to go to the fireman movie yesterday, and... well, you see the rest.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Miscellaneous T(uesday)
I'd call this Ten for Tuesday, but some days all that counting just seems like too much trouble.
Also, does anyone listen to cassette tapes anymore? Cause I don't. Even though there's a tape deck in our van. And when we bought the van more than two years ago I thought "Hey, that's cool. Maybe I'll get reacquainted with all my old tunes." But I never have because I don't know where all my tapes are. I think they're in the attic. I'm sure I didn't throw them out. There's lots of good stuff there. You know, good stuff I haven't listened to in decades, like They Might Be Giants' Miscellaneous T. Good stuff that until moments ago, I didn't even know I missed! And I can't even listen to the Amazon samples just to scratch that nostalgic itch cause Grace is asleep just a few feet away. The torture!
Oh look! Headphones!
Also, I'm not sure why, but listening to TMBG always reminds me of my cousin Wood. I mean, I know Wood likes(ed?) TMBG, but so does (did?) all the other weirdos (myself included) in my family. What's up with that?
Anyway, thinking about Wood reminds me that I discovered recently while reading my old blog entries (cause I'm a dork like that) that I neglected to link to his blog when I made my tacky little announcement a couple months ago. And his cute wife, Woodine, is pregnant, and is definitely one of the cool kids. Apologies to Woodine, and any other cool kids I missed. What do you want? I'm pregnant, I forget things.
Speaking of being pregnant and forgetting things, I don't think I've remembered to tell you we're having another boy. Cheers all around!
The sonographer gave me this completely indecent photograph, just in case anyone asked for proof. Kids don't get mad at their parents for showing off nudie pictures before the kids are even born. Do they?
And here's your more traditional studio shot. Look closely at his profile and you'll notice a resemblance to Grace and Sam (and probably every other baby ever photographed in utero). Cute, huh?
Speaking of cute new arrivals, here's Coach's.
After many years of faithful service, our blue Prizm died. (If you look closely you may be able to see its corpse still taking up half the garage.) Our generous friends, Jason and Amber, loaned us their car while we searched for a replacement. And it's a good thing too, cause our search took forever, mostly because we couldn't decide what we wanted. We (and by "we" I mostly mean Coach, cause I was all "whatever, dude.") swung from "we'll lease a new Prius," to "let's buy this Escort for $700 off craigslist" and back again. In the end, we landed somewhere in the middle, with a 18-year-old (but pampered) Miata. We immediately had to sink $800 into replacing the brakes (which were original to the car), but even at that we feel like we got a good deal. Coach finally enjoys his drive home from work, and even drives the back roads so he can take the top down. And after days like he has, he deserves it.
Speaking of grueling days, imagine what mine are like, spent in this kitchen.
Ignore the mess. And the grinning baby. What I'm referring to is the orange paint on the walls. I've never cared for it much, but lately that mild distaste has turned to raging hatred. It's probably misplaced nesting instincts (I can think of sooo many projects that would be sooo much better for welcoming a new baby. Like, I don't know, mopping the floor or something.), but I am determined that before the end of the summer, this orange will be gone.
But what should I cover it with? This will not be a major kitchen renovation. Just paint, and maybe some curtains. So we have to work with what's already there:
Also, does anyone listen to cassette tapes anymore? Cause I don't. Even though there's a tape deck in our van. And when we bought the van more than two years ago I thought "Hey, that's cool. Maybe I'll get reacquainted with all my old tunes." But I never have because I don't know where all my tapes are. I think they're in the attic. I'm sure I didn't throw them out. There's lots of good stuff there. You know, good stuff I haven't listened to in decades, like They Might Be Giants' Miscellaneous T. Good stuff that until moments ago, I didn't even know I missed! And I can't even listen to the Amazon samples just to scratch that nostalgic itch cause Grace is asleep just a few feet away. The torture!
Oh look! Headphones!
Also, I'm not sure why, but listening to TMBG always reminds me of my cousin Wood. I mean, I know Wood likes(ed?) TMBG, but so does (did?) all the other weirdos (myself included) in my family. What's up with that?
Anyway, thinking about Wood reminds me that I discovered recently while reading my old blog entries (cause I'm a dork like that) that I neglected to link to his blog when I made my tacky little announcement a couple months ago. And his cute wife, Woodine, is pregnant, and is definitely one of the cool kids. Apologies to Woodine, and any other cool kids I missed. What do you want? I'm pregnant, I forget things.
Speaking of being pregnant and forgetting things, I don't think I've remembered to tell you we're having another boy. Cheers all around!
The sonographer gave me this completely indecent photograph, just in case anyone asked for proof. Kids don't get mad at their parents for showing off nudie pictures before the kids are even born. Do they?And here's your more traditional studio shot. Look closely at his profile and you'll notice a resemblance to Grace and Sam (and probably every other baby ever photographed in utero). Cute, huh?
Speaking of cute new arrivals, here's Coach's.
After many years of faithful service, our blue Prizm died. (If you look closely you may be able to see its corpse still taking up half the garage.) Our generous friends, Jason and Amber, loaned us their car while we searched for a replacement. And it's a good thing too, cause our search took forever, mostly because we couldn't decide what we wanted. We (and by "we" I mostly mean Coach, cause I was all "whatever, dude.") swung from "we'll lease a new Prius," to "let's buy this Escort for $700 off craigslist" and back again. In the end, we landed somewhere in the middle, with a 18-year-old (but pampered) Miata. We immediately had to sink $800 into replacing the brakes (which were original to the car), but even at that we feel like we got a good deal. Coach finally enjoys his drive home from work, and even drives the back roads so he can take the top down. And after days like he has, he deserves it.Speaking of grueling days, imagine what mine are like, spent in this kitchen.
Ignore the mess. And the grinning baby. What I'm referring to is the orange paint on the walls. I've never cared for it much, but lately that mild distaste has turned to raging hatred. It's probably misplaced nesting instincts (I can think of sooo many projects that would be sooo much better for welcoming a new baby. Like, I don't know, mopping the floor or something.), but I am determined that before the end of the summer, this orange will be gone.But what should I cover it with? This will not be a major kitchen renovation. Just paint, and maybe some curtains. So we have to work with what's already there:
- dark toned reddish brown cabinets with gold hardware (I am willing to paint the hardware, if necessary, but not the cabinets)
- white shutters and trim
- beige-ish laminate counter tops
- vinyl checkerboard floor
- black appliances
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Feeling Itchy
As some of you may know, I'm quite easily irritated, dermatologically speaking. There are a wide variety of substances that provoke me: fragrances, detergents, mixed metals, weeds, fabric blends. Even hormones get me itchy. Coach teases me because I'll scratch my skin raw, and then spend the next week complaining about that unsightly scab on my schnoz. It's a little ridiculous.
Anyway, the point is, I think it's fair to say that I'm itchier than the average person. And unfortunately, because just about anything -- from a new shampoo to a day in the garden -- can set me off, I've come the see the world as inconveniently full of irritants. EVERYTHING makes me itchy, it seems. I'm probably even allergic to some of you. No offense.
Lucky for me though, I'm definitely not allergic to Coach. It's been seven years now, and as far as Sweetie's concerned, I'm not itchy at all. Not one scratch.
And it's a good thing too, cause seven years is just the beginning.
I love you, sweet Sweetie. Happy anniversary.
PS: Happy anniversary to the Huns (or is it Hons?) also. We love you too!
Anyway, the point is, I think it's fair to say that I'm itchier than the average person. And unfortunately, because just about anything -- from a new shampoo to a day in the garden -- can set me off, I've come the see the world as inconveniently full of irritants. EVERYTHING makes me itchy, it seems. I'm probably even allergic to some of you. No offense.
Lucky for me though, I'm definitely not allergic to Coach. It's been seven years now, and as far as Sweetie's concerned, I'm not itchy at all. Not one scratch.
And it's a good thing too, cause seven years is just the beginning.
I love you, sweet Sweetie. Happy anniversary.
PS: Happy anniversary to the Huns (or is it Hons?) also. We love you too!
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