"Mom, it's 'in excess,' not 'inks'"

As if I'm not already convinced, this morning my body wanted to drive home the point that I'm getting old by letting me pinch my sciatic nerve at 3 a.m. when I got up to use the bathroom. Awesome. Of course, the 50-something librarians around here can commiserate with me, but that still doesn't exactly ease the pain of knowing I'm turning into an octogenarian and I'm only 34. I think the only thing that would make me feel better is if a dozen chocolate donuts magically appeared in front of me right now. ...I'm waiting....

In child news, last night was an odd night for Lil J. Usually at bedtime, he likes me to hold him and tell him some stories so he can wind down (because most nights, Daddy plays with him before bed and all that tickling, wrestling and tomfoolery gets him all hyper), but last night, Lil J hopped down off my lap, laid face-down on his fuzzy purple blanket and fell asleep on the floor. I find it charming when he exhibits the behavior of a homeless man.

I'm a Dapper Dan man!

I'm getting a lot better at tuning out the Today show whenever they have politicians on there. Some Republican dude was getting all bent out of shape about Obama's budget proposal and the reaction of the Democrats in the Senate, and I listened to him yammer on all annoyed-like for about 45 seconds before I was able to focus entirely on my mascara. I want to write a letter to the news programs and tell them that I'm interested in hearing the NEWS, not commentary from talking heads who have their own agendas. For that, I can go to the editorial page of the paper or read blogs on the web. At 7 a.m., I'm solely interested in knowing if a runaway plane or tornado is headed toward my house. Thank you. So much.

But speaking of Obama, I just have to post this picture I took back in January during the inauguration. I'm just a tad concerned that my progeny is going to be conservative. Look at this expression:

2-way petting zoo

We finally got Lil J's hair cut on Monday. And, man, was he unhappy about it. He threw a fit like we were forcing fire ants up his nose or something. Geesh. But he looks very cute with his short hair. We took him to the zoo yesterday (that kid loves to watch sting rays eating cabbage, let me tell you), and not ONCE did someone call him "she." Success!

Also, I just have to mention that I had a couple extra minutes over the weekend while he napped, so I attempted to watch Step Up on TNT. That is a wretched, wretched movie. To the point where I'm starting to wonder if 16-year-olds actually wrote it, or I'm getting so old that I can simply no longer tolerate cruddy teenage movies anymore. I'm telling you, life was easier before I developed these standards.

Oh, but here's a picture of Lil J's new coiffure:

Duck when it is coming at you

Ugh. I've been awake since 1 a.m. this morning. That's really bad insomnia even for me. A lot of the time, I'll wake up around 3 or 4, but I can comfort myself with the fact that I still got 5 hours of sleep. But this? This is sick and wrong. I just had some half-caff coffee to keep myself going, and you should feel that fetus kicking around in there. It's awake now, fo sho. I can assure you that I will be passed out on my desk by 2 p.m. however. Think about it--by 2, I'll already have been awake for 13 hours. Creepy.

I already got to see last night's Office. Heh. My favorite part was when Michael was describing the last two people who had Charles's job: "Jan just came by when she was really horny, and Ryan would come into town to visit his parents and do laundry." It's no wonder he's not used to being managed.

Crescent fresh

Back when I was young, my younger sister and I used to watch Sifl and Olly on MTV and we thought this clip was HILARIOUS. Especially the part at the end where Chester shows up. We still quote from it to this day. Thank goodness for You Tube. Seriously. Between this and the clip medleys of the Carlton dance, I am a happy person.

"I hate your face" (that's a good insult)

This morning, I got to watch the first half of last night's Lost. Which is cool because I'm really digging Lost this year, so I was happy I got to see some of last night's episode, but there's no telling when I'll be able to watch the rest of it, and the suspense is killing me. And then we have a week and a half until the ultrasound where we find out if this is a boy or girl, and that suspense is driving me nuts, too. I'm not good with the waiting to find things out. A lot of people have asked me (with each pregnancy) if we were going to find out the sex, and my answer is always the same: "YES! I HAVE TO KNOW AS SOON AS POSSIBLE." It's kind of ironic that my favorite type of novel to read is a mystery, isn't it? It's like an exercise in self-torture. Curious.

And isn't that sad about Natasha Richardson? Only 45 and with a husband and two teenage sons. Makes me want to wear a helmet when I go out onto the back porch.

Kids, like dogs, can smell fear

Lil J and I went to the park yesterday to play on the jungle gym, and Lil J proved himself to be one brave little hobbit. He was one of the youngest kids there, but he attacked that play equipment like he never heard the word "fear." One little 20-month-old boy was scared to go down the twisty slide, so Lil J just roared right past him and squealed the whole way down. I was impressed...mostly because I don't think I was ever that brave as a child. Although, who knows, maybe I was courageous as a toddler and just got more scared of things as I got older and realized there was a lot to be scared of. That's possible. At this point in my life, I only need to hear one story about a bungee cord snapping to know I will never try bungee jumping. I've also never gone skiing because I'm pretty sure the first time I do, I will suffer a compound fracture in my good leg (oh, and, really, I don't have a "bad" leg per se, I just like to say I do). It's going to be one of those things where my children will probably grow up to be extreme bikers or something, and I'll be sitting at home knitting and going gray. But at least my skeleton will be intact!

Men are slaves to planned obsolescence

I'm starting to realize that it's entirely possible that I come off much more stupid than I actually am. Yesterday, our boss here at work was asking all of us for our academic credentials for a report she's doing, so one of our student workers asked me what mine are, and as I got to the part where I graduated cum laude from college, and her response was "Reeeeeally?" like she never would have expected that. And, frankly, she's not the first person who's acted really surprised when I've told them that I did well in school. Which makes me wonder if my goofy exterior is coming off as complete buffoonery. But, man, that's going to be a bummer if, to be taken seriously in life, I'm going to have to be serious all the time and jump into conversations with phrases like "I find Raphael's didacticism to be superficial, at best." Ugh. I don't want to be that girl. Oh well, I guess some people are just going to assume I'm a moron. Which isn't entirely untrue if we're talking about something like car engines, makeup application or human genomes. So there's that.

Khaaaaaaaan!

Our niece (this is J's oldest brother's daughter) is in the hospital today because she's been having really bad neck and back pain for over a week now. And I don't just mean a headache--she gets so nauseous just turning her head that she apparently can't move, dress herself, drive, etc.... I'm glad she's in the hospital where people can help her, but I have gotten to a point in my life where knowing that somebody I care about is in the hospital sends me into states of extreme anxiety. When I was a kid, staying in the hospital sounded so cool. You get to lie in bed all day, watch tv, play games, have people give you food. See, nobody points out to a 6-year-old that hospital stays also can include somebody waking you up every 3 hours, needle insertions, worry, hospital food that is never the temperature it was intended to be, and, oh yeah, BLINDING PAIN when you go to the bathroom. I'm telling you, as excited as I am about this new baby, I'm not looking forward to going back to the maternity ward. Gah.

Look at that. I just made this post about me again. I am using humor as a defense mechanism. Just want to clarify that for ya.

Kiss my grits

Has anyone else seen the commercials on tv for the "Bumpits" hair piece thingies? I saw that yesterday and was shocked that people are still trying to give themselves big hair like that. But then I thought about it and realized two very important factors: 1) I was watching a rerun of My Big Redneck Wedding at the time, and that show is on 2) the CMT channel. So there you go. Explains that. I hate to make generalizations about regional differences in the USA, but only a country chick would wear something so goofy. And, while I'm on the subject, can I give my eternal thanks to Beth for introducing me to My Big Redneck Wedding? I can be in the depths of depression or suffering debilitating fatigue, and that show always cheers me up. Yesterday's episode featured a delightful couple from Arkansas named Tazema (what now?) and Kevin. Tazema looked to be about 19, six feet tall and weighing in around 300 pounds, whereas Kevin should be applying for retirement benefits in a year or two and weighed maybe 98 pounds with his hunting gear on. She kept threatening to kick his butt the entire episode. But, you know, there's something sort of romantic about it. Makes me believe that there is someone out there for everyone. No one person is too grotesque to be alone forever. Thank you, CMT.

Ahoy hoy

I just saw this news item on our local news website, but I'm quite happy it actually took place in Nebraska and not here. Because, really, Ohio doesn't need any more press about how stupid some of its inhabitants are. Seeing Mansfield featured on Oprah because of its widespread heroin problem was bad enough. But this? Really, dude? That was the best thing you could think of to obedience train your cat? Just want to let you know that one day that cat is going to grow up and have serious problems with concentration and anger management, leading her to a series of dead-end service jobs on the night shift, after which she'll go home to her unemployed husband cat who lies on the couch all day ignoring their kittens. Is that really what you want for your pet? Is it, I say??

I know my blood type, thank you very much

During Lil J's morning nap yesterday, I was perusing the Dish TV and found a rerun from the first season of Lost to watch. It was that episode where Claire gives birth to Aaron, Jack has flashbacks from his wedding and *sniff* Boone dies. I remember going through the emotional wringer the first time I watched it, and it was really no easier the second time around. Poor Boone. That scene where he tells Jack that he knows he's going to die and doesn't hold Jack responsible for not saving him...waaaah. And then they start with the montage at the end with the slow music. Really, somebody please stop me from watching stuff like this when my hormones are all out of whack. At least when Lil J's awake, we can watch Sesame Street and Sid the Science Kid. Those never make me cry. They almost bore me to tears, sure, but that's different.

Oh, and I need to know at what age you guys moved your kids from the crib to a toddler bed. How does one know it's time to do that?