Reason #564 to Always Wear Your Bathing Suit Cover-Up

You might be 7.5 months pregnant, wearing your bathing tent bathing suit and have a tire blowout on the interstate on the way to the water park. Upon reaching the side of the road in a roguish torrential downpour and assessing the smoking scraps that used to be your tire, you'll have to quickly pull your toddler from the car seat and stand many yards away from your vehicle in your bathing tent suit in the pouring rain while you call your husband and AAA.

No good Samaritans will stop to help, either, even though you have what appears to be a pretty pathetic situation. (Could be that bathing tent suit.)

Then, when you finally do get to the water park, your child will have to leave the water after one time down the slide due to thunder. Not lightning. There is not visible lightning anywhere, just thunder.

You give up on the water portion of the park and take your toddler to the attached playground. The park staff kicks him off of there, too, because it's a metal structure. Still, no lightning. Not even thunder at this point.

So, clearly accepting defeat, your child and you sadly give up on this day, get into the car (the one your husband traded with you after he rescued you an hour or so earlier), and head home. Crying. And not just the child.

You awake at 3 am with a wildly kicking fetus and an upset stomach. Gofigure.

Maybe, just maybe, the day's karma would have been shifted if that daggone cover-up had just been worn. We'll never know.

Rockin' Out

Last night, we visited friends and got into a rousing game of "Rock Band." It was really fun for all, but Andrew loved it the most. He sang his heart out and kept yelling "MORE!" after each song. His performances usually only consisted of one repeated syllable, but as you can see, he definitely sang with feeling. Look out, American Idol.

I Slept for Eight Hours Last Night

Yes, this is noteworthy. Never happens, especially in this last trimester. So, I provide for you a checklist. Secrets, if you will, to a great night of sleep when you are 7.5 months along:

• No afternoon naps that day, no matter how tired, whiny and swollen you are
• A miraculously cooperative, quiet 2-year-old in the next room
• Tough, temper-tantrum-filled evening a few hours before from said 2-year-old
• Falling asleep before potentially snore-producing husband
• Absolutely no Klondike bars after 9 pm (and keeping it down to consumption of only one Klondike bar prior to that, rather than two, is also recommended)

this weekend: a two-minute breakdown

We Have a Swimmer!

My cousin MB is visiting from WV. We had a lot of fun this afternoon at a water park near our house called Palmetto Falls. Andrew observed the other kids in the toddler area for quite a while and then decided to just take off swimming himself, legs kicking and everything. Granted, he helped himself along with his arms on the bottom of the pool most of the time, but we still feel like this is the biggest step he's taken yet.

I'm up. Why not compose a Haiku poem?

Heartburn, bad dreams, snores....
All my men have kept me up
(you do the matching).

We've Been Followed!

On his way to rehearsal this morning, Jon was greeted by this guy. We knew from experience (click here) that he's a Saint Andrew's Cross spider: extremely large (body as big as your big toe - not kidding) and menacing-looking but harmless to humans and an eater of bad bugs. So, he's allowed to stay....outside, that is.

Tales of an Insomniac

It's almost 4 am.

I am having a rough time sleeping these days. Did when Andrew was in the womb, too. I must have pristine sleeping conditions in order to get a full night's worth and if, God forbid, anything goes awry at all during the night (bark from a dog, train in the distance, violent kick from the inside), I am up for good and can't get back to sleep.

So, speaking of our resident two-year-old, he's had a rare, rough night and was up at 2. It's now after 3, and Jon has graciously moved to the guest bedroom to allow me free roam of the big bed tonight. After an hour of calming a child and surprising (and battling) a bug in the kitchen, I was finally ready to attempt to turn in (again). Here is how I just found our bed. Thanks, hounds. Thanks a lot. Please don't let me disturb you or anything.

Tomato Love and Bath Toy Insanity

(Yes, I suppose I am reaching for a post title there.) We picked the first tomatoes off our two scraggly patio plants the other day and plan to enjoy them today. Those of you who enjoy home-grown tomatoes know what I mean by ENJOY - there is just nothing like the taste of a tomato you've grown yourself. I have no idea why the store-bought ones have such a completely different taste..... no matter how organic or vine-ripened or expensive the fruit is, it just does not compare to the taste of your own.

And in completely unrelated news, our bath toy situation has gotten out of control. Last night I dumped them ALL in and sorted/stored. Andrew had a great time going through all of them again.

Wanna play "Where's Elmo?"