I'm it! :)

Mama K tagged me, so here's my schtuff:

7 Celebrity crushes:

Zach Braff, Jason Behr, David Duchovny, and yeah, that's all I got, and even that's stretching it some. 

7 Things I'm good at:

Sewing, crocheting, breeding (yeah, it's my new "hobby"), keeping secrets, making messes, taking care of my family, kicking Bryan's ass at Rummy

7 Things I plan to do before I die:

Go to England, take a cruise, move out of this state, buy a house, own a goat and chickens, learn to knit, be the star of my own syndicated t.v. show

7 Things I cannot do:

Keep my mouth shut when I'm really mad, knit, be by myself for extended periods of time, budget worth a damn, snowboard, paint/draw, parallel park

7 Things that attract me to the opposite sex:

Personality, sense of humor, intelligence, compassion, nice eyes, friendly smile, down-to-earth types

7 Things I say often:

Suck it, little baby; If you do that again I'm going to bite you!; Can you bring me my antacids?; I love you; Whatevah! (with an accent); I can SO make that myself; Where's Phoebe?

I tag:  whoever else wants to play.  MWAH!

Fun stuff!

So asketh and ye shall receiveth.  Bryan saw the dentist today, and we were informed that he needs about 12 or so teeth pulled.  As in PULLED OUT OF HIS MOUTH.  As in, 7 teeth left on the bottom, and partial dentures.  Not to mention he has more cavities than I have fingers with which to count them.  I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Moving right along, I saw the doc, and he actually gave me a vaginal exam!  This is my first vaginal exam since I started seeing him.  Turns out I'm dilated to 1cm (HA! like that means anything!).  I was really super freaked out, though, because this morning I peed and, um, let's just say that I wiped pink.  So, when he did his exam his gloves were.... um... they had... the "b" word on them.  I freaked the hell out.  I've been spotting since the exam, which is normal, but I'm freaked out that the "b" stuff was pretty significant on his gloves after the exam.  I'm sure it's normal and it doesn't mean anything, but that's never happened to me before.

The doc wants to see me again on Monday, and now I'm starting to worry that this lil bean is going to come earlier than I thought.  I've been having intermittent contractions since my exam, and spotting (of course), but I'm getting worried.  I don't have a car seat for Phoebe yet, since she still fits in the infant seat, but I'm going to need the infant seat for lil bean.  I had asked my mom if she would stay with the girls when I go into labor, and she just informed me today that she's going to Vegas the weekend that I'm due (thanks, ya ho bag).  I have tons of short sleeved t-shirts and pink outfits, but if this child winds up having a penis we're going to run very short on gender neutral clothing. 

Normally this would be the point where I break down and start pulling my hair out hysterically, but luckily I have something else to occupy my mind.  Phoebe's Baby Legs came in the mail the other day, and they're so damn cute that the carseat/labor and delivery/clothing issues are left in the dust.

Add me to the list of addicts, people, these things are the shiznit!

They need to make these things in MY size.  Seriously.

*grin*

I'm actually blushing!

And I have give a shout out to Elaine and Krystyn, without whom I would not be in business.  I love you guys.  <3

Back in my good graces.

Finally.  FINALLY.  The whole fam damily has medical coverage, and dental coverage, and probably vision as well.  We got our official plastic cards from Medi-Cal, so now we can drive recklessly, fall down with abandon, and burn ourselves with.... well.... stuff that's hot.  We can chew on jawbreakers and punch each other in the teeth, with NO WORRIES!

I called someplace called "Smile Purty Little Cowpoke" or something like that, and made a dental appointment for Bryan.  (Okay, so maybe it wasn't even anything close to that, but I think "Smile" was in the title... somewhere.)  Bryan was so thrilled that he almost threw a frying pan at me (which would've been TOTALLY FINE since I can now be seen by a doctor! yee haw!).  In the almost 7 years we've been together he hasn't seen a dentist.  Not once.  He has really brittle teeth, anyway, so they're just in bad shape to begin with, but dental hygiene is not his forte, so his teeth are really, really, REALLY bad.  I mean, like, pieces fall out when he eats anything more solid than jello.  YUM.

So we're livin' it up.  He gets to see the dentist on Wednesday, and I get to go to the doctor on Wednesday, and you know your life is sad when that's a really exciting day.  Like, I actually have an excuse to wear a bra, since I'm going out in public and people will see me!  Wheeee!

On a completely unrelated note, I made myself a pair of pants, and I love them so much that I wore them for 4 days in a row.  Then I took them off and washed them, and put them back on and today is my second day in a row wearing them.  That would normally make me a dirty lame-ass, but my due date is in less than 2 weeks, so I can totally get away with it. 

Nuh-uh.

So we have this couch.  It's burnt orange velvety material.  We got it at the Salvation Army awhile ago, and it has a fold-out bed in it.  I totally love it.  It really has no business being in our living room seeing as how we don't have sky blue shag carpet, but I'm okay with that.

The problem with the couch is that your (meaning MY) butt sinks waaaay down into it.  Which is totally fine if, say, you have abdominal muscles.  Which I don't.  So sitting on our couch makes my back hurt in one very specific spot.

So I'm sitting on the couch watching a movie with Bryan, and I turn to him and say, "Man!  My back is really killing me today!"  And he says, "I know how you feel.  Mine hurts, too."

BACK UP.  Wait just a minute, fella.  Don't you know the RULES?  The RULES clearly state, in no uncertain terms, that when a woman is having pregnancy or menstrual related pain you are NOT AT ALL allowed to a) say that you know what she's going through, or b) compare your pain to hers.  Unless you're a freak and provoking a woman to kick you in the crotch is how you get your jollies.

Point being?  I love our ugly couch, but it kills my back.  And I love my husband, but sometimes I'd like to sucker punch him.

The end.