Signed, Seeled, Delivered

SHE'S BORN!!!
My baby girl was born healthy on November 24, 2015 at 3:27 am!!
Mike and I are thrilled to be parents and over the moon in love with our tiny little girl. Overall, we're dealing with little sleep, the most perfect baby and tons of well wishes. It was a fast labor (maybe one day I'll write more about it, while omitting many gross details), and I was able to get the epidural just in time. (OMG GET THE DRUGS, DRUGS FOR THE WIN)
And yes, we were surprised up until the very end. Especially me since I was thinking boy, but Mike was thinking girl and he was right. Which he may be a little smug about, but I don't mind. I'm a mommy! Mike's a daddy! And she's perfect. So much happiness.

Old Wives Tales

Want to know what Little Turkey is? We do too! But until baby make's it's big debut, we're just going to have to rely on the old wives tales I've been collecting (from the internets, coworkers, and completely random strangers all have opinions) and speculate. So:

1. Sleep position: Sleep on my right side = girl, Sleep on my left side = boy
• I try to sleep on both sides, but I usually start and wake up on my right. Girl
2. Nausea: Sick as a dog = girl. Happy no nausea preggo? (those b*tches!)? = boy
• Ugh, the 1st trimester overall nausea, dinnertime puking, random breakfast second trimester puking, and now the occasional wave of 3rd trimester nausea. Girl
3. Soft or dry hands: soft = girl, dry = boy
• I have both. Dry after washing my hands (which I do after going to the bathroom every half hour. So a lot), but then soft since I moisturize right after (which also happens about every half hour as well). Neutral
4. Food cravings: sweet cravings and citrus = girl. Salty cravings = boy 
• Oh the sweet tooth! The baby does a little happy dance when I indulge (I bought a billion bags of Halloween candy (I had coupons! $2 off 3, you bet your ass I did!)) And I have a glass of orange juice in the morning which is new. But then again, I love pickles on my hamburger and I typically only like a bite of pickle every 3 months or so. And I've selected  salty treats here and there too. But the sweet tooth is the overall ruler. Girl
5. Girls steel your beauty, boys enhance 
• Zits, oh the zits. My normally beautiful, soft, smooth, unblemished skin that is the envy of many is breaking out like crazy (3 zits at one time?!). Solidly girl  
6. Graceful swan= girl. Clumsy = boy
• I'm already a little clumsy, but now I knock myself into everything. I fall over in yoga. And my tummy bumps and gets in the way all the time. And why is getting up so difficult?  Boy
7. A fuller full face = girl. Normal face = boy
• normal face Boy
8. Moody? = girl. Even keel = boy
• People need to stop being so incredibly stupid if they don't want to irritate me. Some idiots can't even breath without showing their ineptitude at life. Which, no. I've been throwing some serious shade (refer back to number 2 if you need further clarification). I spit nails the other night because I couldn't access a silver alert and possibly help someone. My grouchy levels are high and my bullshit tolerance is non-existent. And the feels! Why is anything that is supposed to illicit the feels have so. many. feels?! WHY? So..uh yeah, girl. 
9. How I carry the belly: high = girl, low = boy
• No idea. I have a longer torso and my belly is right in the middle. Neutral 
10. How I carry the belly "sports" edition: cute round basketball shape belly = boy. Not as cute wider pointier football shape belly = girl 
• Adorable basketball belly. Boy
11. Weight gain in the front = boy, weight gain that spread out = girl 
• Considering people figured out I was pregnant before I told them because my ass getting wider, we'll give that one to the girl. 
12. Conception age and the year are both even or odd = girl. An even/odd combination = boy
• I became pregnant at 32 in the year 2015. So even/odd combo is a boy.
13. Internet Chinese gender prediction: enter your age and month you conceived baby and hit the predict button (I don't know the maths/reasoning behind these calculations) They just gave me 
• boy 
14. Heartbeat: 140+ = girl 140- + boy
• All heartbeat readings have been 140+ girl
15. Mommy's dreams: whatever you dream you're having, opposite is what comes out.
• Around 20 weeks I dreamed we were having a girl. Boy  
16. Tie husband's wedding ring to a string and dangle over my tummy. If it spins in a circle = girl. Spin back and forth = boy (This one is the most accurate because we tested this one over my friend's tummy who is also pregnant and we know she's having a girl, and her spin was a definite circle) 
• Back and forth, 2 of 3 times: Boy 

So in the girl column we have: 7
And in the boy column we have: 7
Neutral : 2

So...happy speculating!

General Baby Stuff

At 37 weeks I'm at the point of no return going to the doctor every week now. And if I go into labor the doctor wont stop it. But at least we confirmed that the baby flipped! Baby's head is down and butt is up, and isn't likely to flip back. S/he is still head butting my bladder and kicking/squishing my lungs at the same time which isn't the most pleasant, but at least we don't have to schedule a c-section before Thanksgiving. Phew! (I could still end up having one if baby decides to not come out in a reasonable amount of time, but that's a possibility I can handle)

In other pregnancy/baby news.
I was rear-ended the day before Halloween and I am fine. But since I wanted to get the baby checked out too (because that's what you do when you are pregnant) I had to go to labor and delivery since the ER doesn't have the monitoring equipment for a baby in utero. I go to the proper area, get hooked up to the fetal monitor and wait. And wait. And wait some more, and then was told the midwife wanted to keep me for about 4 more hours of observation. Which, fine, I already called work and Mike was with me and I like him a whole whole lot, so we just hung out for a while. Then about a half hour of us getting sprung, the on call doctor comes in. Turns out I has having contractions (that I had no idea I was having) 5-6 minutes apart (!) when when I first arrived and I was still having them (!!) every so often, so I was going to be kept 24 hours from the accident, so overnight, for more observation. So we got a trial run of our hospital stay, which is a good thing because we learned the place is cold and made notes about what to pack in the hospital bag for when the time actually comes. And baby was perfectly fine after all that, so that's good.
Oh yeah, that aforementioned hospital bag? We've sorta got it packed... Meaning we have stuff we can pack ahead of time set to the side but it's not in an actual bag yet. Because if we're being honest, having that bag packed freaks me out a little. And by "little" I mean holy-sht-i'm-going to be-a-mommy-so-it's-not-mature to admit I want to run away screaming.

Also, I'm over my body being up for public discussion. Well, I was never "in" to that for the record. When a patron at work informs me I wasn't pregnant the last time they saw me, (pretty sure they're wrong on that one)  or someone who doesn't even know my last name goes on and on how tiny I am for so far along, it's uncomfortable. I know being told you are a small pregnant woman is supposed to be flattering, but you are still talking about my body. Mine. Not up for public discussion. (Though if the political climate keeps going the way it is as a woman I'll have no rights over it anyway.) And we can also leave my baby's parts out of that public conversation. That's no one's business either. Unless we have a girl that is. Because then she'll have no rights over her body either and we can talk all about it.

Breech of Contract

At my last doctor's visit the doctor was feeling around my belly but couldn't quite figure out where baby's head was. So out comes the ultrasound machine and baby is breech.
That little punk!
However, at that appointment I was just over 34 weeks, so there's still time and space for baby to move head down and butt up. My doctor gave me the okay to try and flip the baby on my own with some yoga positions, so I every night I give it a go. She also mentioned an Indian ritual of walking over hot coals, but I'm just going to leave that one alone. As a last resort maybe I can convince baby to flip by telling him/her it's like flip cup, which is mommy's favorite drinking game.
Hopefully baby gets with the program and moves into the proper position by 39 weeks. Or else baby's probably coming out via c-section before Thanksgiving. Which, nope, OMG, not even going to process that right now. Becasue OMG. Before Thanksgiving.

Like Father, Like Daughter

The closer my due date comes, I find I'm missing my dad more and more. Even though I accepted there was a chance Dad may not meet my children and that there was nothing I could do to help that, the reality of not having him here for these huge life events and even little everyday things is tough.  

But those little everyday things can also be a comfort to me. Just the other day as I was driving home from work with my windows open and the car next to me was blasting their music. I didn't want to hear whatever they were listening to but more importantly I couldn't hear NPR. So I turned up my radio to an 11 (or a 30-something. Whatever, if you don't get the reference we can't be friends). Which is the exact same thing my dad used to do when he was annoyed in the same situation.

I started to laugh and tear up at the same time. I just hope my dad was laughing up there too.

Outliers

The hospital I'm having the baby at offers free prenatal classes, so I figured, when in Rome and signed us up for a series of childbirth classes. Here are some of the things we have learned so far:

• There are stages and sub-stages of actual labor. And it can take a long time to get a baby out.
• But at least the possible long labor has a pretty sweet labor/delivery/birthing/postpartum suite.
• I'm definitely having drugs.
• Epidural babies may come out sleepy and could have a hard time latching when trying for that first feeding.* 
• Daddies will pack the hospital bag wrong, as well as the wrong picture and/or going home outfit.** So it's best to do it yourself.
• Daddies also don't listen to mommies when football or whatever huntin' and fishin' show they like is on.*
• Dr soc and I are the class outliers. We are the only ones in the class who are going to be surprised on the sex, and we also won't share the names we have picked out.
• But we're not the weirdest ones either. We certainly were not the ones who asked if we could keep the placenta and if it was possible to make a smoothie out of it.**  
• We are the snarky classmates though. While every other parent set were sharing that their favorite part of pregnancy is feeling the baby kick* and/or watching mom's body change/grow life sentimental stuff, dr soc shared that his favorite part is that we can sit at the grownup's table now since we'll have a child ourselves, and I said that my favorite part is all the snacks and people doing stuff for me all the time. It's the truth!

*Or did I learn that at the breastfeeding class I took? In that class I learned why lactation consultants can be referred to as lactation nazis. They have very strong opinions on breastfeeding and how it is the most important thing you can ever do for your baby with it's countless benefits and formula is a dead food and other than nutrients won't benefit baby at all and you are horrible.
**Wait, are these separate things? Baby only has a Christmas photo shoot outfit and no other clothes because gender neutral stuff doesn't exist, and now I need two outfits? Shit.
*We didn't find either of those sexist at all. Nope.
** Seriously someone asked that. The nurse teaching the class didn't know so she said to refer to dr google. (some cultures/religions do save it but it's not a western world practice. The making it into a smoothie though is definitely some sort of ethnocentric western world idea thing.)
*Yeah those kicks and rolls are fun and exciting and all that jazz, But sometimes those dance party/ninja warrior moves hurt and it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if baby could get off my bladder at the same time baby is stretching into my lungs. Play with one organ at a time please.

You have died of dysentery

Dr soc and I went to something called Science On the Rocks at Discovery Place a while back. It's a themed after hours event at the (expensive) children's museum with stations for activities and trivia.
Anyway, the theme was back to school which I didn't really care about, but I got really excited when I found out you could play The Oregon Trail!
But once again, my young coworkers didn't understand my excitement.
What they said when they played:* What was the big deal about having to make the choice of paying the ferry or fording to river? Why would you hunt? What the hell is dysentery and cholera and get those sick people off the wagon because they are slowing you down! This game is boring!
What I heard: Blasphemy!
I tried to explain how it was one of the greatest treats in school if you were granted computer time, but these two young things also had computers throughout school so that was lost on them as well. I just couldn't get them to the same excitement/nostalgia level as me so I had to give up or else go crazy trying.  
But! Shortly after that another coworker arrived who is closer to me in age. In lieu of a greeting as soon as I saw him I said:
me: Josh! The Oregon Trail! Yes?
Josh: Yeah! If you got a half hour of computer time first thing you did was play Oregon Trail. 
me: Oh thank god. Ok, all is right with the world again.

*I played it the other day since I was bored. Yeah, I quit about 10 minutes into it after I lost 3 of my 6 oxen trying to cross the river and kept wasting bullets shooting trees rather than deer or buffalo. When Zelda (my ringleader) came down with dysentery I said never mind. Though I was pretty bummed that it didn't live up to my nostalgia.    

Storytime

The other day at work "the walmart baby" story/movie came up in conversation and my coworkers, who are 21 and 23, were genuinely confused. How was this story even possible? Was it true? (no, but the movie was based on a work of fiction) How did she give birth at walmart? How come security or the camera's catch her at night? How was she able to even hide in the store in the first place? I've seen the movie but it had been a while, so I called upon my trusty sidekick the internets to fill in the the holes in my memory (that's how I found out it was based on a book). 

coworker 1: How was she able to hide in the first place? 

me: on accident at first. She's in the bathroom at closing time and when she comes out the staff has all left. After that first night she repeats the process and keeps a running tab of what she owes walmart for using.

coworker 1: Why didn't they check the bathrooms?

me: I don't know those logistics. I'm just telling you the plot. 

coworker 2: Why didn't security find her? Or at least a camera?

me: I don't know, they must not have needed security or cameras after closing.

both: Closing time? When did walmart close?

me: The movie came out in 2000. I saw it in the theater the summer I graduated high school.

coworker 1: I was...maybe 9 in 2000.

coworker 2: I think I was in 6th grade in 2000.

me::sigh:: Oh you dear children, back in my day in 2000, this was possible. Believe it or not, in 2000, not all walmarts were 24 hours.

both: GASP!

They

I've been using the more grammatically correct (at least I think it's more grammatically correct) term of "they" rather than "he/she/it" when referencing my baby. It's just something I've said whenever referring to the baby even before we didn't find out the sex. But whenever I say "they" people ask if I'm having twins. I explain no, I just don't know what they are, I'm not about to say "it" and now it's just habit. And I figure, it's only 15 more weeks (OMG just 15?) so while I still have to explain, it won't be for much longer. (seriously, only 15 more weeks?)

Well I had a doctor's appointment on Friday and my doctor was running a little late. When she arrives at the office she jumps right into work like the pro that she is, but I understand it can take some time to orient yourself after rushing from one thing to another. So she asks me how I'm doing/feeling (she has a great bedside manner btw) and I say something along the lines of pretty good, bla bla bla, they're really kicking and moving in there now.
She's about to check on them with this heartbeat-movement-hearer-thing and says "and you're having twins right?"
I, of course, handle this like a grown up and freak-the-f*ck-out. Because OMG, twins? Dr soc and I are in shock stammering emphatic nos and that all our ultrasounds have found only baby in my tummy.
My doctor by this point is laughing and remembers that no, it is just one baby, but she wonders why she thought twins (once again, OMG) for a minute there. I say it was probably due to me saying they since we don't know the sex of the baby and I don't want to say it, so it's my fault for the confusion.

But ok, I have got to stop referring to baby as "they" from now on. I'm confusing my doctor, who I hope to god knows a lot more than me and doesn't need to be confused.
They kicked in agreement.
Dammit!

Shapes

Currently I'm growing a human. So my figure is changing.
Dr Soc is training for a half-marathon in October. So his figure is changing too.

Dr soc~excitedly~: My (hip bone) lines are coming back!
me~less than thrilled~: Yeah, mine aren't.

Orphan socks

The other day I was folding several loads of laundry and I had no, I repeat, NO orphan socks. Every single pair had a buddy.
Major life achievement unlocked!

Belly Button

I don't know if your belly button popping out is one of those happens to everyone pregnancy things. I've got a notion that it'll happen to me though. I've noticed that as my tummy has been getting bigger my normal innie belly button has started to become...shallower.
But right now I still have an innie. Sorta. And by sorta I mean it's still a little concave in some parts. It's not full outie, and maybe it will stay the way it is now... So I guess right now it's a...flatie?

Happy Birthday Dad

Today is my dad's birthday. He would have been 71.

I hope he's loving all the cake and ice cream he wants in heaven. Every possible flavor and absolutely no tummy ache or brain freeze or any of those other things us mortals have to deal with. 
I miss you Dad. I wish you were still here so we could help you blow out the candles.
Happy Birthday Daddy. I love you.   

Spoiler Alert

Before I was even pregnant dr soc and I knew we wanted to be surprised on the sex of the baby. You would think that my penchant for spoilers and Mike's loathe of them would lead to an impasse, but we actually completely agree on this. And while not everyone wants to wait to find out (not going to name names, mother-in-law) and we don't give a hoot what other parents-to-be want to do, we're pleased as punch to wait for our baby. 

However the rest of the baby stuff world doesn't make our choice the easiest. I was looking for clothes for my little one when they arrive and I came to the conclusion our poor little turkey* is going to be naked. In the winter! My poor cold naked baby! 

*sorry honey, the name just stuck 

Father's day

Today will be the hardest father's day for me. Next year I will tell my baby what a wonderful grandpa they had, but this year I am just going to miss my daddy.

I will tell them: 

How he could always comfort me.

I guess 80's babies were allowed to sleep on their stomachs...

How he was always willing to help and had the biggest sweet tooth.

Making one of our birthday cakes (both of our birthdays are in July)

How supportive he was and how we had so much fun.

Swings, roller coasters and building sand castles, dad had our back

 And that he always listened to me chatter on.

And on... (I'm sure he tuned me out at some point, but you can't blame him)

He was so proud of and loved both his girls so much

Even if his signature look was just shaking his head at our teenage girl antics

But most of all, I will tell them how much I will always love him, and how much I know he loves them. 

CHEESE!

So next year as we're wishing dr soc a happy fathers day, I will also tell them that before mommy was a mommy, she is and always will be my daddy's girl.

I love you daddy. Happy Father's day.

Grief

Friday morning June 5 2015 I lost my daddy.
I don't have anything poignant to say. I miss him so much and my heart is aching in a way I never knew possible. And though I knew this would be the end result, it didn't make the actual event any easier to handle and the truth is you will never be ready to loose a parent. 
As his end drew close I didn't know if I would be strong enough to be there. But when it was time, holding his hand with my mom, telling him how much I love him and that everything would be ok, it was the only place in the world I was going to be.
I'm devastated my father is no longer physically on this earth with us. But I am happy he's at peace. I'm relieved my family's struggle with this disease is over. And I know he'll always be with me, and I take comfort knowing he was always loved and that he loved us.

Feel better

I've heard that morning sickness/nausea is a good sign of a healthy pregnancy.
At least that's what I told my friends who were suffering through pregnancy nausea. Yeah. Now that I've dealt with it, (and fingers crossed -god please fingers crossed! DONE with it) I'm pretty that's just something people say to make you "feel better."
Ugh.

Bad Dog

Dr soc told me he was going for a jog this morning before my doctor's appointment while I was still in bed sleeping in a little bit (omg with the pregnancy tired). Shortly after that I heard a rustling/crinkling noise coming from downstairs, but my concept of time was so off I just assumed he hadn't left yet and was making a lot of noise in the kitchen for some reason. Turns out, it was not dr soc, it was Jules.

That little dog went into my purse, ignored the peanut butter crackers and ate about a 1/4-1/2 cup of salted almonds. I called the vet and she'll be fine, but damit dog those almonds were my best pregnancy snack! Then Mike noticed a paw print on the couch table, and he said he had thrown a different wrapper in the trash yesterday but he didn't know what it was from. Upon closer inspection of the destroyed bag and crumbs, I realized she had eaten a huge peanut butter cookie. Probably about the same time Mike was mowing the lawn and I wasn't home from work yet.  

That little bitch figured out when her free range time. Yeah, we're not leaving her unattended anymore...

Grown Up

There are several signs that point to being a grown up. Some of the ones I have experienced are:

• I am willing to pay for convenience rather than find the cheapest option possible.
• I have nice cookware and know how to use all my kitchen appliances.  
• Guests stay in my guest room with a real bed and don't crash on the couch anymore. 
• Eleven o'clock is when I want to be home from a night out, not when I start my night out.     
• I will leave a place when it is "too loud."
• My grocery list consists of real food and is not entirely made up of cheap wine.
• I prefer to be addressed as ma'am. 
• I have no idea who is "singing" on the radio, and I'm not going to bother to find out either.
• I have my 20-something coworkers explain slag terms and current social media to me. 

But I think the biggest grown up significance of being a grown up is:
When I tell people I'm going to have a baby around Thanksgiving (yep!) the response is: Congratulations!

Culture Class

A coworker and I were discussing a sushi restaurant in town. She loves it, but I have issues with it.

me: that place is too loud. You have to yell to have any sort of conversation there.
m: yeah, but at least the sushi is so good and cheap.
me: not enough for me for that noise level.
m: everyone's yelling there, patrons to patrons, staff to staff, it's fun. Don't you love getting yelled at in another language?
me: Yeah, no. Here's where we differ. Because whenever I get yelled at in Chinese that means I'm in trouble.

Binge Watch

So. We might have to pull back a little on the binge watching. Because my dream last night was a pretty solid compilation of some of the shows we've been watching. Ever since I've been on happy pills, I dream every night. I don't remember them most of the time, but on occasion a few stick around in my memory. Enough so that I will wake up upset and/or utterly confused about how I am in my bedroom and life is normal(ish).

Anyway, last night was a Breaking Bad/Big Love/The American's combo. Yeah, I don't know either. The Breaking Bad part was Walter White watched his meth lab in the basement fill with really pretty blue water (seriously, resort brochure blue), and the water was breaking the ceiling joist of the lab. The ceiling burst off and the whole lab gushed down the street and Walter White (who may have been me, I'm not sure) went with the water and tried to make it look like he had been swept away. Then when Skylar and his son went running down the street after the tidal wave, he was slinking around the neighbors' car/garage trying to stay out of their sight. And then there may or may not have been a crime spree of sorts in there, I don't recall.

Now onto part two, the Big Love/The Americans combo. For some reason, Mike was going to take on a second wife. (Big Love) I was none too pleased about sharing my husband to say the least. I was jealous and I was trying to trick encouraging him to have a guy's weekend in Toronto on my "off" weekend. You know, have a good time, no ladies at all, play in the casinos, that sort of thing. My plot was to not let poor pathetic Martha (from the Americans) have "her" weekend. Or any time really. Mike seemed to really be looking forward to his weekend, and poor pathetic second wife Martha was really none the wiser either.

Yeah. When I woke up I kept reiterating/muttering "you can't marry Martha." Mike was confused of course, but he reassured me he wasn't going to and that he was only married to me. Then later when I could give him more details he was amused but I think a little ticked off he got stuck with poor pathetic Martha.
 

Bragging Rights

It's March Madness baby! (Of course I'm cheering my Kentucky Wildcats for a perfect 40-0 season, so we'll see soon enough!)

Anyway, I hate Duke. I don't understand why anyone's a fan unless you're alumni. I mean, I'm not going to fault you for cheering your alma mater, even if it's duke.. But if you're a fair weather fan "just because" and you only want to brag on duke to annoy me, you're an asshole.  Also? You better make sure that you even have the bragging rights to begin with.

At some point during the season Duke was ranked number 2. My coworker is a "just because" fan was trying to be superior and taunt me about it.

coworker: ~smugly~ Did you see the rankings? Duke's number two! Na-na-na-nana!
me: ~snort~  Yeah, you know what that's not though? Number one. Because that's Kentucky.

This Little Piggie

Valentine's Day 2015 was brought to us by urgent care. The couch attacked a husband who shall remain nameless and said husband needed an X-ray.
Yup.
I was at work on my lunch break when dr soc (oops, just gave it away!) called me and said he though he had broken his toe on the couch. We got a new couch before Christmas so we're still getting used to the new layout. His littlest piggie was at a 90 degree angle from his foot and it was also swollen to about the size of his biggest piggie.    
So we had a romantic valentines day at an urgent care, doing romantic things like taking sexy x-rays of his feet.
And then for the rest of the night we made toe puns. Like toe-pocalypse. Catas-toe-phe. It wasn't the Christmas season so we didn't have any miss-the-toe!    

Normal Thing to Do

Today I beat Mike home for work so I pulled the trash can around and got the mail, two things I normally don't do. Dr soc is pretty much always home before me and takes care of those things so I never really even think to even do them.

Anyway, when dr soc got home this afternoon  he thanked me for pulling the trash around. I said "you're welcome," and since it was such a rare occurance I then happily said:

me: Oh! I got the mail too!
dr: soc: Wow! What did we get?
me: A pizza coupon and um...
dr soc: That's ok. Where is it?
me: It's... It's... uhhh.. This is why I don't get the mail.

Deliver us

So after my sister got me into running, after watching a few of our races my mom got into it as well. And she's really annoying about it. Don't get me wrong, I am so glad she takes care of herself (because the longer she takes care of herself the less I'll have to take care of her) and as a sorta runner I get the rush and love for it. But she's still really really annoying in bragging about it and not realizing how much of a production running (race day and as regular exercise) really is.

By this point I've pretty much accepted it and I just let her go on and on, smile and nod at appropriate intervals and do what I can behind the scenes to make things go as smoothly as possible. But sometimes, I can find a way to quiet her down for a while.
 
In 2012 she and I both ran the Savannah half marathon and she wanted to dissect every. single. part. of the race with me. But every race, runner and experience is different and she just couldn't understand why I couldn't recall some thing or provide any insight to her experience. She was going on and on about the sights on the course so surely I must have seen them and experienced them the same way she did too.

mom: Oh that's that really pretty historical church! Do you remember that?    
me: No not really.
mom: You must have! It was between miles 8 and 9 and there were all these pretty branches leading up to it. You must have seen it on your run.
me: I'm sure it was there, but I don't really remember seeing it mom.
mom: But it was there between...
me: Hey, mom, do you remember that one church that looked like a boarded up gas station around mile one? Real creepy looking and it's name was the deliverance church of something or other.  
mom: Oh yeah! That was really creepy looking.
me: Yup. Well that's the church that I remember.

She was quiet for a little while after that.

Unicorns

Conversation on the State of the Union in a post twitter world:
dr funtimes: Are all female lawmakers required to notify us about what's come out of their uteri at the beginning of every speech? #JoniErnst
me: yes. Otherwise we won't know how much of a woman she is and what ratio we can not take her seriously.
dr funtimes: how many of the male rebuttals to the #SOTU started out with "I am a father?" 0? Exactly.
me: -20% seriousness -15% dedication to job 1 child -5% for each addition child +2% adversity for non-white race -5% relatablity
dr funtimes: isn't that a lot of maths for a girl?
me: well yeah. why do you think there's an algorithm in the first place? girl + math = magical creature

Make Believe

I grew up in Kentucky where we have all 4 seasons, spring, summer, fall, and winter (or: March Madness, basketball camp, big blue madness, and regular season). While I definitely prefer the summer and hotter temperatures to the winter and colder temperatures, it's not like I haven't dealt with the cold before.

Except.

Now I live in North Carolina, and my blood has thinned to accommodate my new habitat. So I like the blistering summers and mild winters. But now there's this thing called a cold front or whatever sweeping through, and actually winter here. I keep hearing of this thing called "wind chill" and these low ridiculous numbers that think they are temperatures! I mean really, 25 degrees? That is clearly a made up number!