In the bottle aisle, registering for bottles and binkys and bibs… (oh my!)

Sam: Ohhhhhh, that makes way more sense (sheepishly putting the package back on the shelf).

Kristin: These Dr. Brown bottles are really good, and also these yada yada yada…

Me: K scan it. Scan whatever you think I need. Just scan it.

Kristin: Okay, and you’ll need these and these and thi–

Sam: OMG! OOOOOUCH!

Me & Kristin: WHAT? Geez!

Sam: (holding up a package of nipple brushes) This looks like TORTURE!!! Aren’t your nipples already sore??

Me & Kristin: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… Those are for cleaning BOTTLE NIPPLES.

Geez, at least I know what nipple brushes are for. :) In Sam’s defense though… I didn’t really know what anything else was for, and Kristin did a great job of teaching me all about how to pick out strollers and carseats and all things baby. Now I’m just terrified that I won’t have the right supplies, that no one will buy me anything but cute baby clothes for my shower, and that Adam and I don’t have enough money to give our child all of the “necessary” things… *sigh*

Me: (without turning to look) *sniff sniff* Are you eating cookies?

Adam: Yeah, so?

Me: With MILK?

Adam: So?

Me: (turning to face him and stare drop-jawed at the plate of Oreos and milk in front of him) Were you going to offer me any?

Adam: No.

Me: WHAT?

Adam: Well I though you’d be full after dinner and then making me stop at Wendy’s on the way home so you could get a milkshake.

Me: Hi, I’m your Wife, Jenny. I’m pregnant. Have we MET?

Adam: Seriously? You’re still hungry?

Me: GIMME THE COOKIES!!!

Aaaaaaand NOW you all know how the idea for the Cookie Monster was conceived. Clearly, by a pregnant woman. :)

Apparently, I’ve finally found the one subject on which Adam actually has real thoughts:

Me: So, how do you feel about taking childbirth classes?

Adam: Whatever you want, baby.

Me: Do you want to do a free tour of the maternity ward?

Adam: Whatever you want, baby.

Me: Well how do you feel about picking out cribs?

Adam: Whatever you want, baby.

Me: What about drugs?

Adam: You know… I think that ultimately women were engineered to birth children so I really don’t know if we you NEED drugs and I think that drugs are really just for the mother’s benefit and that they do kind of drug up the baby and I would probably prefer to not get drugs if it were my choice but you handle pain differently than me and so you’ll probably need the drugs and I guess I’m okay with that because I’m kind of 50/50 on the whole thing but I don’t want to drug the baby and also I would prefer you not to have a giant needle shoved in your back since you have back problems anyway but if you have the drugs then I can probably relax and play Angry Birds on my iphone the whole time so really whatever I guess but I think you’ll think you’ll need the drugs.

Me: So… I’m a wimp?

Adam: You run to the medicine cabinet at the slightest twinge of a headache. You’ll need the drugs. But you won’t NEED them.

Me: So I’m a wimp.

Adam: I’m just saying that women have been giving birth since the beginning of time just fine, in the woods and in caves and without drugs. And here we are.

Me: But I don’t WANT to have my baby in the woods. I don’t actually even WANT to HAVE my baby… I just want it to appear in my arms.

Adam: You just keep on praying for the magic stork, Jen.

Me: So I’m a wimp?

(I should note that this conversation was actually a lot longer than this, and Adam had some great points and really was rational about everything. Being 7 months pregnant and terrified of pushing a human out of my body, however, all I heard was “you’re wimpy”. Poor Adam. BUT, he did say he thinks he might opt for no drugs even if it was considered “natural” for men to push eggs out of their pee holes… and I’m really not sure I believe him.)

I’ve been itching to make some changes to the blog design, and the time has finally come!

A big shoutout THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to Jess, who redesigned the Superwife site. She was also creator of the original Superwife design… what a talent!

If you’re looking for a creative, talented, super-cool (and sweet) gal to work with on your blog… email Jess at myblogdesign@gmail.com. She doesn’t have her business website up yet but clearly, she’s workin’!

Thanks again, Jess! I LOVE my new design!

Adam: How should I cut the meat?

Me: Maybe not as big as we did last time.

Adam: Like little pieces?

Me: Yeah! I like tiny meat.

Adam: *giggle*

Billy: (from the living room): Ahhhahahahahaha

Me: No, you dorks, I LIKE TINY MEAT IN MY TACOS.

Adam and Billy: BAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

This is why I’m hoping for a girl. I need an ally.

I have NEVER complained about his gifting skills because, frankly, he gives great presents! He’s never bought me an ugly piece of jewelry,  he knows what lingerie I like and we both love fishing and camping so of course he knows how to pick out that kind of stuff. So, I always expect that his gifts will be great but I never expect much presentation (“boys don’t like to wrap!!”)

TODAY, however… he managed to surprised me. I wasn’t even sure if we were exchanging gifts, since we didn’t last year (we were fishing last year on the Kenai). Yesterday I picked him up a cool AK-49 tshirt and a new bird-hunting wii game (Remington: BirdHunt!), then cautiously let him know that I did in fact get him something for our anniversary (just in case he needed time to go out and get something). He just smiled and said “okay”.

When he got home from work this afternoon, he thrust a cute pink gift bag into my hands and told me to open it (and he looked really excited). I was also instructed to open the card last. This is what I found:

“Cotton to Smell” (candle)

“Cotton to Wear” (socks)

“Cotton to BURN!” (moohlah!)

My god, he knows me SO WELL!! :) So, apparently, my newly creative husband actually took the time to look up and find out that the traditional second anniversary gift is — you guessed it — COTTON. Then he coordinated a WONDERFUL present around that theme… I am SO IMPRESSED! And for those of you who were wondering… money is made of cotton. He told me he remembered that from the movie National Treasure! :) 

YAY for new tricks! Happy anniversary to my fabulous husband who knows just how to light up my day.  :)

I get crazy anxious and start sweating every time I walk through the baby aisles at stores, and I feel like I just can’t start or I won’t be able to stop the crazy tidal wave of baby-buying that is sure to ensue. And there’s just SO MUCH STUFF out there… do I need it? Do I want it? Does the baby need it? What’s good? What’s crap? Should I buy this used? Should I wait? Why would I need that? Why wouldn’t I need that? What color should I get? What does that do? It costs HOW much? What IS that?

Aaaaargh, my head is kind of spinning and I’m not even shopping right now. This is how weird I am: I’m planning my best friend’s bachelorette party right now, and yesterday I went out and spent like, $115 on supplies without flinching. Essentially, I have no problem dropping hundreds of dollars on fake pink penis decorations, but get me within 20 feet of a $5 pacifier and I break out in hives. ‘THE FUCK?

Anyway, I FINALLY bought ONE SINGLE ITEM for my baby. And I’m veryhappy about it. It’s VINTAGE, because it’s discontinued and hasn’t been made in I don’t know how long, so I had to find it on ebay. I paid a whopping $26 for it and it is so PERFECT I totally cried when I got it in the mail today:

This… is the perfect teddy bear. I say this because I have the exact same one. The EXACT. SAME. BEAR – and I’ve had it since the day I was born, almost 29 years ago. His name is Snowy, and I’ve slept with him nearly every single night… he’s been on every vacation I’ve ever been on, he’s been accidentally left in a drawer at the DisneyWorld Hotel in the 80′s (the staff shipped him back to me!), he goes on all of my overnight business trips with me and is now currently serving as a great back rest/prop during my pregnancy while I sleep. He was even there on my wedding night (and my silly girlfriend Jen put his paws over his eyes when she decorated our bridal suite, it was hilariously cute)!

So… Snowy used to look exactly like the new bear. Now… he’s… a little “broken in”:

Hopefully my baby will love his or her new bear as much as I’ve loved mine. This was the one item I knew I would have absolutely no anxiety buying. :)

Dear Adam and Billy,

I hope you have a wonderful week of bachelor-fun while I’m in Dallas. Would you please tidy up the house a bit before I get home (vacuum, dishes, hide the stripper evidence, wipe the counters, and clean up the living room)? I would really love the help. Thanks boys, and have a great time!

Love, Jenny

PS. Don’t forget to feed the fish. And the dog. :)

So when I got home, I walked in the door and was quite pleased… the living room was clean, the house was vacuumed, there were no dishes in the sink and the counters were clean. It also looked like the rugs in the kitchen had been shaken out – bonus!

Adam called me from Talkeetna a few hours after I got home, and asked me how the house looked. I said that everything was wonderful and thanked him for even making the rugs look nice. Then he changed the subject. 

The next day, my dad called. Oddly enough, he also asked me how the house looked. Assuming he’d seen my note to the boys while he was over at my house working on our remodel during the week, I said that everything looked great and I was really happy to be able to come home and relax. His response?

“Oh good, because your stepmother went over there on Wednesday and cleaned everything up for you so you wouldn’t have to stress when you got in.”

Whaaaaaaaaaat? MY HUSBAND AND MY BROTHER TOOK CREDIT FOR THE CLEANING???!!! RIDICULOUS!!! (And I’m not sure who is rubbing off on who…)

Lesson to Men: WE. WILL. ALWAYS. FIND. OUT.

(Even if it’s from another man who rats you out and then feels bad for getting you “in trouble”.)

Billy: Is Tali spaded?

Me: Hmmm… you mean spayed?

Billy: Yeah, that.

Me: No, we’re thinking about breeding her next year.

Billy: Wow, you WANT like 7 dogs?

Me: Well not to keep, silly!

Billy: WHAT? What do you mean?

Me: Well, we might keep one of her puppies, but we would sell the rest.

Billy: WHAAAAAT? You would SELL your dog’s BABIES?

Me: Um, yes.

Billy: (seemingly having a major realization) Whoa. Is that what your dad does?

*note: my dad has had quite a few boston terriers over the years, and has bred some of them a couple of  times

Me: Of course! Do you think my dad lives on a dog farm with 56 dogs??

Billy: Well… yeah. I thought that’s what the barns were… for the dog farm.

*note: my dad builds storage sheds for a living, and his business name is ‘Alaskan Barns’.

Me: I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.

Billy: I can’t believe you would sell your dog’s babies. How would you like it if someone sold YOUR baby?

Adam, jumping in: How would you like it if your 7 children lived with you all their lives?

Haha, great point, Adam… I’m sure I would be ready to sell my kids if they wanted to live with me forever! :)

Your dog wakes you up at 3:45 in the morning by ripping a GIANT fart and whining in the corner of your newly-white-carpeted-bedroom. Upon inspection, you find that there is a liquid shit trail that completely circles your bed (and is amazingly also on some parts of the wall). 

THE SOLUTION:

Do you:

 A) Calmly get out of bed, let your dog out, and clean up the mess without complaint.

B) Jump out of bed with purpose, carefully avoiding the mess, smirk a little because the situation is unbelievable, let the dog outside and quickly clean up the mess while trying not to breathe.

C) Nearly barf while still lying in bed because of the hot-shit smell already permeating the room. Laugh as your husband storms down the stairs to put the dog outside. Cry when you see the diarrhea-trail on your new white carpet. Almost step in it while trying to assess whether or not the dog managed to miss your pile of clothes that you threw in the corner last night. Sigh with relief when you realize your clothes are safe. Cry again when you realize your carpet is not. Almost step in it again. Go downstairs to see your husband sleepily staring into the cupboard under the sink; take note that the ONLY “cleaning supplies” he has taken out and placed on the counter are Febreze Air Effects (in cranberry, mmmm) and Downy Wrinkle Reducer. Push him aside and pull out OxyClean Pet Cleaner and hand him a roll of paper towels. Sigh (A LOT). Get online and type “how do I clean up dog diarrhea” into google. Sigh some more. Listen to your husband complain at you from upstairs that you’re not doing anything. Go into the garage and fill a bucket with hot water, oxyclean powder and bleach. Listen to your husband tell you that you can’t put bleach on the (white) carpet. Go upstairs to see your poor, sleepy hubby dutifully working at the impossible task of “picking up” the mess with paper towels. Feel bad for him and greatful for his help… until he complains about the spray bottle sucking and tells you matter-of-factly that the carpet will need to be replaced. Shrug, sigh, and put on your rubber gloves. Open the pet cleaner spray bottle and dump it all into the bucket. Start wringing washcloths over the brown trail and wait 5 minutes for your magic cleaning mixture to work. Listen to your husband say it won’t. Blame eachother (“Didn’t you change her food?” / “Didn’t you feed her a bowl of bacon grease?”). Start scrubbing the floor, one shit-drip at a time. Start seeing results. Listen to your husband say it’s working. Finish one hour later. Admire your (wet) white carpet. Put the dog bed in the hallway and block the door so it’s only open a sliver (she’s got to be able to see you!). Let the dog in after having your husband wipe her ass with a washcloth. Wonder if this happened because you changed her food or if it was really the bacon grease. Decide (silently) it was bacon grease.

Betcha can’t guess which solution we went with. Next time I’m trying the wrinkle-reducer, just to see. :)