We'll take a cup of kindness yet...

It's waaaaay after midnight.

Stinkerbell stayed up a little later than normal - but not till 2007.

The Mighty Hunter stayed up till 10:30, I think. Maybe 11.

I'm still up. Being a geek. And insomniac. Peanut is killing me with this not sleeping crap.

wooooo HOOOOOOOOO PAAAAARTYYYYYYY!!!!

Peanut has wiggled around a lot. I think he had the hiccups earlier. Whatever it was, it made him grab my intestines and squeeze my bladder rhytmically for about 15 minutes. Hopefully, he's through with that. I wish he'd go to sleep in there!

I think Peanut has probably had a wilder night than any of the rest of us.

We're old and sad. If anyone out there who's been lurking around reading this has any suggestions as to how to liven up the lives of the Auburn Family Always without drinking too many "adult silly drinks" or spending what little money we have left after Christmas, I'd appreciate it. Please leave your comment.

PLEASE.

Now about this Auld Lang Syne crap

I used to make such a big deal of making resolutions and even WRITING THEM DOWN SOMEWHERE and telling my mom or best friend. That was back when I was in high school and college and my life was lived for my selfish self.

unlike NOW!

I think I might have even kept one or two of those resolutions.

But those years are LOOOOOOONG gone. I now wish I could figure out how to apply eye makeup like Carmindy on What Not to Wear and how to reach around my HUGELY pregnant belly to trim my own toenails. FORGET polishing them.

Hello??? It's winter! No one sees my toes anyway.

After taking a hiatus from writing and certainly KEEPING any new year's resolutions, I think I'll give it a try. But much like Moreena, I'm gonna prevent the inevitable disappointment in my own failure by crafting my resolutions to a level that I MIGHT actually meet.

-I resolve to give birth.

-I resolve to cry over giving birth.

-I resolve to be a smart aleck to anyone I can, whenever I can.

-I resolve to meet the minimum definitions of my multiple identities: mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend.

-I resolve to try my dangedest to find some kind of humor in my ordinary little life.

-I resolve to sing along with the radio and in the shower and wherever I choose, as loud as I want, making up lyrics as I go, and be convinced that Simon Cowell himself would faint by the vast, raw musical talent that the good Lord lavished upon me.

-I resolve to laugh at inappropriate times. Uncontrollably if possible.

-I resolve to eat gooey, underbaked chocolate chip cookies and drink tall glasses of cold milk with them.

-I resolve to drink orchards of pulp-free orange juice.

-I resolve to blog too much.

-I resolve to email too much.

-I resolve to make both my blog posts and emails entirely too long and wordy and boring.

-I resolve to procrastinate housework and other trivial things like paying bills until I get all panicky about it.

-I resolve to watch more Y&R, What Not to Wear, HGTV, DIY, anything Discovery channel.

-I resolve to love my Mighty Hunter and remember I've got me a keeper.

-I resolve to love my Stinkerbell and remember that she is very special, sweet, precious, wonderful, loving, affectionate, insightful, silly, surprising, smart, pretty, snuggly, soft, friendly, creative, talented,

I can't finish this list. My vocabulary is insufficient.

-I resolve to love Peanut and attempt to survive the sleep deprivation he will bring to our home.

-I resolve to love my Lord and thank Him for the gifts of all kinds He has given us.

-I resolve to leave my comments on other blogs. (wait, I already do that. But YOU don't! COMMENT DANGIT!!!)

-I resolve to park my pimped out, repaired Mamamobile in the garage and be spoiled by the whole event each time.

-I resolve to eat EasyMac with a slice of Velveeta added in.



I think that's a good start.

Over at A Mama's Rant is a contest for stories about the worst Christmas gift ever.

I don't know if my story is the worst one, but it is definitely MY worst one. So here goes...

The Mighty Hunter and I married roughly one week after Hurricane Andrew wiped out Homestead, Fl, and parts of Louisiana. Grand-daddy was (and is still) employed as a claims adjuster/manager for a major insurance company. He specialized in catastrophe claims (ie: hurricanes, large hail storms, large wind storms, etc.) He was immediately sent to the Miami area to work after Andrew but was able to return home for the weekend of our wedding. Thanks A------- Insurance! After the wedding, he returned to Florida to work and also worked a good length of time in Louisiana.

This type of work required him to stay near the catastrophe area for extended periods of time. 6 months was usually the maximum. It was also possible for my late Mother in Law (MIL) to visit him and spend time there.

MIL was one of the most frugal (my nice way of saying CHEAP AS CRAP) people I've ever known. She was famous for it. She was proud of it. She bragged of it. She rubbed it in your face. She felt superior because of it.

But she was also OC and more than a little anal retentive. (12 LARGE, un-opened! tubs of Vaseline is all I have to say.) As The Mighty Hunter and I helped Grand-daddy sort through her things after her death, we discovered her obsession with saving EVERY! SINGLE! FREE! ITEM! SHE'D EVER TOUCHED!!

It was our first Christmas as husband and wife. We were sappy and gross the way we held hands and called each other "sweetie" and "baby". Christmas morning breakfast was/is a big deal in their/our family. We gathered at their house the night before so that we could get up and help cook the traditional artery-clogging meal.

After breakfast, we exchanged gifts. The Mighty Hunter and I were seniors in college (War Eagle!), so naturally we were broke as sticks. So I had cross-stitched (I swear on my life this is the truth!) a towel for MIL and The Mighty Hunter had done something similarly crafty but less needley and more manly for his dad. We had no money to buy gifts, but that didn't stop us from working hard to express our love for our family.

MIL? not so much, I guess.

I cannot tell you what anyone else got for Christmas that year. But MIL gave me one for that will live forever...

A shoe-box FULL of hotel soaps, lotions, shampoos, conditioners, sewing kits, shoe polish kits, etc. Whatever the house-keeper brought into Grand-daddy's hotel room each day was quickly hidden away in MIL's bag so that it would be completely replenished, lest someone call management and I not have a Christmas gift!

gasp!

It was clear that MIL had forgotten that I would be there for Christmas morning. It was NOT the first Christmas morning I had spent there with them. We dated 2 years before this and I had spent BOTH of those with them.

I opened the box and immediately regretted sitting so close to her.

"oh"

"Yea! I loved using these soaps and stuff while staying at the hotel in Miami."

"Yea, I'll bet. mmmmmmmm They smell good too." I tried to be nice, really. I don't think the shock showed TOO much.

"You can use these whenever you and The Mighty Hunter drive back and forth to school and stay here or at your parents' house. You won't have to carry your full-size bottles around with you!"

"Yea. Great idea. I hadn't thought of it that way!"

"Yea. I save all my hotel soaps and stuff for just that reason."

No joke.

I got a shoe-box FULL of free hotel soaps, etc. from my MIL the first year of my marriage to her older son. God rest her soul.

I wonder if she saw us from up in heaven throwing all that crap away after she died.

Vote for your favorite title for this post...

Doctor Doctor, give me the news

or

Give me the REAL 411

or

Surprise Day Surgery

or

What The Mighty Hunter really did instead of hunting today

or suggest your own



About 45 minutes ago, I answered the phone. Caller ID showed the number and city - making me think it was a cell phone - and wasn't a number I recognized.

-Hello?

-Hi, this is Dr. Shukkum (sp? no clue) Can I speak to Mr. Hunter?

-Which Mr Hunter? (thinking that it could be a call for Grand-daddy from one of the urologists following up from his prostate surgery. thoughts racing: is he ok? he's at Dauphin Island, he might have just called them with some questions and they're following up.)

-Mighty Hunter. I did his surgery this morning and wanted to check in on him.

-um um um (stopped IN. MY. TRACKS. THE MIGHTY Hunter - not Grand-daddy. surgery??? thinking that it could be a mistake, wrong phone number or something happened since talked. how do I get this dr to tell me about his patient w/o revealing confidential information on his Mighty Hunter? I spoke to The Mighty Hunter about 3 hrs ago. he was fine then - at the hunting club.)

-Auburn Mighty Hunter (this is obviously not what he really said. The dr said a combination of The Mighty Hunter's and my names.)

-um um (confused, but still concerned. Our phone number is listed under MY NAME, so if for some reason the dr couldn't find the phone in the chart, 411 would give out the number under my name.)

-Mighty's 22 years old...

-OH, no! wrong one. MY Mighty is 37. (beginning to laugh nervously. aware of the tightness in my stomach and chest.)

-I've dialed the wrong number! I'm terribly sorry!

-You're sorry! I'm 8 months pregnant. I talked to him about 5:30 from the hunting club and he was fine. And I think I'm having a contraction!

-Oh, yea. I've heard some of those hunting club stories. haha

-Yea. Hunting clubs! Now seriously, I think I'm having a contraction. And I'm not kidding about being 8 months pregnant.

-um um (his turn to stutter. It's only fair!)

-We'll have a good laugh about this later.

-Yes, ma'am, we will. You have a happy New Year. I hope your water hasn't broken.

-Nope no water. But I feel pretty sure this is a contraction. I now have to hang up and call my husband and find out what kind of surgery he had today. Happy New Year to you too!



So... I immediately call The Mighty Hunter.

-Where are you?

-The hunting club.

-What have you done today?

-Not a lot. I hunted. We talked about this already. Remember?

-Are you OK?

-Yea, I'm fine. What's wrong?

-What kind of surgery did you have - cause I just talked to your doctor.

-Surgery? What are you talking about?

So, I replay the conversation to The Mighty Hunter and we laugh.

And his answer to the kind of surgery question?

...
...
...
...

__________ enlargement. 5 letters. Starts with "p".

My response?

You should have a nice, peaceful recovery with this pregnancy and all.

I do love my Mighty Hunter.

And he loves me.






The contraction passed quietly. Peanut is very active again.

I should get the clothes out of the dryer now. And try to get some sleep.

Now that I think about it. This was the second wrong phone number. But the first one was just Papa John's Pizza and they KNEW they had the wrong number.

What does this say about the accuracy of phone numbers in our medical industry and pizza places?

What I've been doing today - when I wasn't taking down the Christmas decorations...

Car seat research...

http://www.carseatdata.org/ a site that has a database w/search capabilities for checking compatibilities of car seats and particular vehicles. No not every car seat works in every car.

http://messageboards.ivillage.com/iv-ppcarseats ivillage forum where car seats are discussed

http://www.car-safety.org/ site with forums and other info about car seats

http://www.elitecarseats.com/home.jsp on online vendor with user reviews and seemingly thorough range of choices

http://babyproducts.about.com/od/carseats/Baby_Car_Seats_and_Car_Seat_Safety.htm a list of the above sites plus a few more that I haven't explored yet.

I also finished the invitations for Stinkerbell's birthday party at Club Libby Lu. I bought a pack of sticky pink, purple and clear sticky "jewels" in the scrapbook section at Wal-mart. I let her stick a few on each invitation. I also bought a pack of pretty card stock (different shades of pink and purple mostly). I sat and worked on how to make my own envelope out of the card stock. I finally figured it out - my grandmother would be proud - and trimmed the pretty paper down to fit the card perfectly (pretty much) and fold over to be the envelope. Now we'll find some cool, diva-like stickers to seal the envelopes.

Stinkerbell loves the invitations, the shiny jewels and the custom-made envelopes in matching colors.

I've played with the idea of designing and producing invitations for a home-based business. I've done invitations for birthday parties for free for friends from church (part of my birthday gift). If I ever do this type of invitation with the jewels and custom envelope, it won't be free or part of my gift. These are worth a little bit of money to me.

If I can find my camera, I'll take pictures. If not, I'll have to find a way to get the digital pics I took with our camcorder onto my puter and then I'll share them.

I should be asleep. I'm sleepy, but I probably won't be able to fall asleep for a while right now. I'm cranked up at the moment.

Stinkerbell's birthday party invitation.

Yes, I did it on my puter - Old Bess.

I've wasted the whole day on it.

How sad.

I should have taken down the Christmas tree, etc.

But I didn't.

I DID wash 2 loads of clothes.

I didn't fold them and put them away - YET.

I didn't cook supper. Our fridge is full of left-overs that I don't want. I want parmesan-garlic tossed boneless wings and fried from here. Troy Aikman knows his wings. lemmetellya

I did sit around in the living room while the plumber fixed my kitchen sink.

I did leave another message for and then talk to the oven/stove repairman. He's coming tomorrow to fix my oven which just can't get my chocolate chip cookies right and my stove eye that won't heat up half the time.

So, much like the squirrels looking for the rare acorns, I'm storing up energy for the trip with 5 girls (aged 5-9) to go to Club Libby Lu with one other parent in a few weeks. God help me.

I should now unload the VERY FULL dishwasher and clean off the bar where we ate lunch.

The Mighty Hunter is going out of town tomorrow and will return Saturday. He has a case of cabin fever I think. He has not wanted to hunt very much this year. Usually he spends every possible weekend in the woods - will even get up early in the morning to hunt for an hour or 2 before going to the office. Not this year though. He's just not as interested for some reason. I suspect that it's concern for me and my constant pg aches and pains.

I start weekly ob checks next Tuesday. yippee. I think there might have been a little too much enthusiasm in that "yippee." Once a week, I will get checked for dilation.

Anyone want to put on a mask and big wiggly belly and pretend to be me for a few minutes those days? I'll buy your lunch here. Wing Stop only serves lunch on Fridays here.

I suppose we should get our bassinet put together and wash those cute little blue baby sleepers.

I did register for baby gifts at Target and Wal-Mart and K-mart.

I'm making forward progress on something!

Anyone want to follow us to Club Libby Lu and laugh your head off at 5 little girls getting their hair twisted up into "Tween Idol" styles and putting on sparkly nail polish and pink eye shadow and then having a dance party? The effect it has on the girls is funny

amazing

sweet

and guaranteed to produce Diva behavior.

I'm gonna pry my butt up out of this recliner now.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhh

Well, maybe in a minute.

Butterscotch is a pyromaniac.

She is in our living room. She's too big for me to carry upstairs to Stinkerbell's room. I can easily slide her around and lift her for a short move. But I just don't want to carry her upstair. My hips and back and belly hurt too much.

Well, she has been placed in a prime position where Stinkerbell can sit on her and watch tv and play her guitar/ukulele. This position is in front of our gas fireplace. Which is fine, she's far enough away to not get too hot and catch on fire.

But she seems to notice when the fireplace lights up. (It's one of those w/a thermostat and turns itself off and on automatically.)

foof. flames. Butterscotch turns her head toward the fire.

I wonder what's going on inside her robotronic horse head. She has these long blond eyelashes that are very reminiscent of an old man's eyebrown. And she's constantly looking around the room as if to find something to chew on or somewhere to poop.

And a little something relating to yesterday's post...























Today, we plan on beginning the removal of all things Christmas. I'm now ready to plan Stinkerbell's birthday party and prepare for Peanut's arrival.

5 weeks and counting.

tick

tock

tick

tock

Ode to Pregnancy
Movement One - Complaints, Whines and Irritations
"Remind me again WHY I got pregnant"



Cutting my toe nails.

Tying shoes.

Pulling up socks.

Bending over and straightening up again.

Saggy pants.

Saggy pants that pull down my sad underwear.

Sitting on any surface other than a couch, recliner or bed.

Groin pain. ("What the heck????")

Left hip occasionally not wanting to work.

Gas.

Needing to relieve gas.

Wishing I hadn't relieved my gas.

Hiding because gas relieved itself without warning.

"No, I don't sthmell that. My nosthe is sthopped up. sthorry."

What foods causes gas?

If I stop eating, and got a feeding tube inserted directly into my stomach (now residing in my ribcage), I'd still have gas.

Needing to be burped by my husband - bless his heart.

What is Peanut DOING? Rolling around inside me like he's trying to get away from something!

Falling asleep in the middle of a blog post.

Wishing I could fall asleep when I lie down in bed.

Groin pain.

Not slapping the next person who lies to me and says "You look so cute!" "You don't look like you're 3 mos!" "You're all belly! You've hardly gained an ounce!"

30 pounds times 16 ounces/lb = 480 ounces!!!!

Not feeling cute in any way whatsoever.

Feeling like a deformed Brahma bull










Getting the sick pleasure of telling a time-share sales guy that I'm NOT pg, I'm fat! (I've been waiting for that one!)

Needing a nap within an hour of waking in the morning.

Swelling.

Feet going to sleep for no apparent reason.

Groin pain.

Wishing I had My Friend Rachel closer to home (home = ME) so that we could be big pg together. "Hey, Rach! Minnesota sucks!"

Not feeling like doing ANYTHING!!!

Strange belly distortions and bulges and wiggles and jiggles and jumps.

Playing "Name that lump."

Marge-Simpson-overbite-looking outie belly button.

Groin pain.

Constipation.

Diarrhea.

Diarrhea starting before the relief of constipation.

ouch.

Gut bomb meals.

Groin pain.

Not being able to full-on hug The Mighty Hunter and Stinkerbell like I used to.

Not being able to carry Stinkerbell in my arms (she's a really tall 5 y-o).

Not knowing that I will be able to enjoy Stinkerbell's 6th birthday to the fullest.

Wishing I could give more of myself to Stinkerbell instead of falling asleep on the couch while sitting next to her wiggly self, watching tv.

Not sleeping the night through.

Living in a state where I lack that sense of control that I've protected so long.

Groin pain.

Santa's the Man.

On Christmas Eve, I asked Stinkerbell to sing a few carols while I recorded her. She agreed and sang "Jingle bells", "Silent Night", "Away in a manger" and "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas". She did her rock-star diva voice and put some real SOUL into her version of each song.

While singing the Hippo song, she heard some bells jingle and a "HO HO HO!!!" come from outside the front door. She stopped mid-"hippo" and listened very carefully.

HO HO HO!!!!

jingle jingle jingle

Her eyes grew bigger than I've EVER seen them. She froze where she was, sitting on the floor.

The Might Hunter brought her around and told her to look out the window and see who was out there. She ran over and didn't see a thing.

He was hiding or using his invisible magic.

She runs upstairs and says "I'VE GOT TO GET IN BED!", but knows she has to have a bath first. So I follow her with the camera and find her in the bathroom, struggling to get her clothes off quickly.

"Hurry up and run the water for my bath! I've got to get in bed!"

So, we do. She gets her bath. I thoroughly love drying her pretty, sandy hair. We giggle and talk about what if Santa heard her Hippo song and thinks she wants a real hippo for Christmas.

"I should write him another note to leave next to his cookies and milk. What should it say? 'No hippo please'"

So she writes him the cutest note and leaves it next to 2 chocolate chip cookies and a wine glass of milk and a candy cane.

"Dear Santa
No hippo please
Thank you
Stinkerbell"

It was a magical night. This morning was wonderful too.

Santa brought her Butterscotch. She loves Butterscotch. I think The Mighty Hunter also likes him/her. Stinkerbell says it's a girl. We've yet to check under her tail.

The other Santa gifts were small and the list was thankfully short.

The Mighty Hunter surprised me with a beautiful cross pendant with chain. I think he said the pendant has almost 3/4 carats of diamonds. I know that's not a lot for some of you out there. But I'm not a big one for REAL jewelry. It was a very thoughtful gift from him.

He got some good brownie points over the gifts he gave me.

But what about things that went wrong?

Well, it just wouldn't be our house if SOMETHING didn't go wrong!!!

I think the thermostat on my oven is on the fritz. Higher temperatures are fine. But when I try to bake something under 400 deg, it doesn't get done on time and the top will get too brown while the inside or bottom stays doughy.

And tonight, I was getting ready to run the dishwasher. The box of detergent was damp on teh bottom.

There was water on the shelf under the sink. The drain line on the left-hand side of my kitchen sink is leaking.

The Mighty Hunter has some great plumbing skills but doesn't stock the supplies to fix this tonight.

So, my dishwasher is full and I can't run it.

I've got to call the plumber that The Mighty Hunter worked with for years and get him to come fix my sink.

I've got to call the appliance repair guy to come and fix my oven.

Is there anyone out there who needs me to arrange to get a repair person out and get the work done?

My sister-in-law set off the house alarm today and the police had to come out to confirm we hadn't been robbed. She was totally embarrassed.

I still haven't found those 2 key-chains I bought earlier this year and put away to keep from losing them.

I now have to find a way to pay for all this.

But it was still a very Merry Christmas.

It was just lovely.

Love Love Lovely

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

Except for the stress

and exhaustion

and endless gift-wrapping

and sore throat and cold and cough

and unbelievable exhaustion - did I say that already?

Well, the Christmas party blitzkrieg began Friday night. The Mighty Hunter's company party kicked off the season. We had dinner at a local restaurant. There were 2 guys with guitars who sang and took our ridiculous requests...

"Hard days night"
"Take this job and shove it"
"Friends in low places"
Redneck woman"
anything Elvis
"You don't have to call me Darlin', darlin'"
"Whiskey river" or is it whiskey road?

We had a great time. We were a little rowdy, some of us were silly. We all laughed and had a good time telling stories on ourselves and each other.

There were no lampshade hats. No one kissed anyone they shouldn't. We're all too old-married folks.

Stinkerbell stayed with my parents while the adults partied. She whined because she wanted to go with us. She has been my shadow since birth and expects to be able to go anywhere I go. My brother's 4 kids were also at my parents' house, so that was an acceptable compromise.

I have ALL my shopping done - except for ONE gift card. Yay for me!!! Did I mention the endless gift-wrapping?

I'm tired. It's 12:13 am. I fell alseep on the couch this afternoon when I should have been wrapping gifts. The Mighty Hunter and Stinkerbell took a really nice nap in the bed. I had intended to clean house, cook and wrap gifts.

Did I mention the endless gift-wrapping?

But I made th mistake of sitting down on the couch and relaxing. Next thing I knew, I had dropped the remote control and wondered why one leg felt so strange. It had gone to sleep - duh. My neck also hurt since my head had drooped over to one side.

I woke up aware of a sore throat early this morning on one of my potty trips. No fever. I began sneezing HARD and the roof of my mouth and my ears are itchy. I'm catching a cold. Great. Do germs not care that the Christmas party blitzkrieg has begun and I simply don't have time to be sick? I mean, Stinkerbell is gonna be an angel tomorrow night. I simply cannot and will NOT miss that. I don't care if I'm puking my toenails up. I will prop myself up, hold a baggie to my mouth and supply my own Lysol spray to see her say her little 4-line poem and be the angel I know she is.

So I'm on antibiotics to fight off secondary bacterial infections. I don't have a great immune system. And the germs know it.

The Mighty Hunter just reminded me that it's late and the I'm not asleep.

I just thought I'd share.

btw... We're making progress on the name negotiations. More later!

Merry Christmas!

32 weeks and 5 days.

51 days left.

God help us all.

I am living in this dream-world where the crib will be magically assembled by Santa's elves and diapers will fly in through the window or down the chimney and the white Christmas we sing about will refer to the baby powder that will be delivered by Santa himself.

This must be the case because I haven't made any of the preparations you might think a VERY pg woman would make.

Well, I have bought a couple of sweet little blue outfits on sale. I have chosen his me-me* blanket. Stinkerbell was given MANY blankets as gifts. She selected 2 nearly identical ones as her favorites. This was very convenient since it allowed me to wash one and still be able to give her one for snuggling.

So, I decided that I would select the me-me blanket for Peanut. We just have to make sure he prefers these sweet little blue ones over anything else that touches his skin.

Oh, yea. We have to choose a name.

The Might Hunter has threatened - err dreamed - of naming a son after his own dad. Now, let me say this first and very clearly. I think his dad is a wonderful person. One of the funniest, goofiest, most lovable men I know. Yes, he's a curmudgeon . There's no denying it. But he is one of my favorite people and would be even if he were not my father-in-law. But he has an unusual name.

Weird and off-the-wall name.

I can't find it anywhere in a single name book anywhere. Google doesn't find it as a name for a person. It is the name of a county in Ireland or Scotland.

I would name Peanut after The Mighty Hunter. His grandfather (well, one of them anyway. the one who cared about other people besides himself.) My grandfather(s).

Here's a list of the names of those men from our family. You pick out the one that belongs to The Mighty Hunter's dad. The rest are real names from either side of our family...

Ralph
Vernon
Ledon
Ira
Napoleon
Chadwick
Rother
Thomas
Lee
Edward



Can you blame me?

There have been a few discussions where The Mighty Hunter's arguments FOR using his dad's name have actually back-fired...

I circled my grand-father's name in the baby name book. This is the grand-father that died when I was a baby, so he didn't know him either - thus the name was unfamiliar to him. So, he says "Ira? Do you really like Ira?"

me: "sure"

him: "why???"

me: "It was my Papa's name."

him: "So what?"

big, dramatic, joyful pause...

me: "exactly!!!"

The other time was a discussion about a boy in Stinkerbell's class - Rufus. Yes, it's his real name. No, it's not a nickname because of his fascination with Ron Stoppable's naked mole rat.

him: "Rufus?!? Who names their kid Rufus?"

me: "he was named after his grandfather"

him: "that's no reason to give a kid a strange name like that."

another big, dramatic, even more joyful pause...

me: "exactly!!!"

...

...

...

So, we're calling in Jimmy Carter and the UN's top negotiators to assist in the name choice mediations.

Expect to hear about the final decision soon on Fox and MSNBC.

And, because I know you are curious how bad my Marge-Simpson-overbite belly button is progressing...

welllllll..

I have uploaded the picture TWICE now and no belly shot to show.

Will put it up at my flickr site.... Sorry!!! http://www.flickr.com/photos/auburngalalways/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/auburngalalways/320659314/

enjoy!!!

Merry Christmas!

Good news. The curmudgeon* will live to grow more curmudgeonly.

Grand-daddy had prostate surgery Wednesday morning. Everything went very well. He chose the Jetson-style surgery.

I told him that he could be glad that this will be my last pregnancy.

When pg w/Stinkerbell, The Mighty Hunter's mother lost her battle with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia in June. Then in October, while still very pregnant, Grand-daddy had 5 coronary bypasses.

He could feel better about his future health conditions since the major crises seem to coincide with my being pregnant.

Stinkerbell was on the phone with my mother, updating her on Grand-daddy's condition Wednesday night.

"He's doing pretty good. He's getting grumpy. So, I guess he's getting back to normal."

*Last Sunday morning, I described Grand-daddy to The Mighty Hunter as a crusty old curmudgeon. This didn't offend The Mighty Hunter at all. 2 reasons: Grand-daddy is a very LOVABLE crusty old curmudgeon. And The Mighty Hunter didn't know the meaning of the word. Which brought on a discussion I thought I'd NEVER have with The Mighty Hunter and that I haven't had since all those valuable communication courses at AU.

The Mighty Hunter tells me that if I'm using words that "no one knows" then I'm not communicating. I agreed. I then asked him what words I used that were not a part of his vocabulary. A vocabulary that I assumed was nearly equal to my own, since we're both college graduates and especially since he graduated from a high school that he considers superior to my own high school alma mater.

"curmudgeon"

I told him that lots of people we know would know that word. Particularly his brother, the one with the masters in divinity. Or is it theology? I mean, he reads constantly. Surely he has at least a basic grasp of the definition.

"I'm sorry, Kay. Both your sons have failed you in their development of an above-average vocabulary. But they're good men - that must count for something. Please stop turning in your grave."

Dumblond, my NOW FORMER co-worker and friend, knew the word. Her friend, Steve, knew it.

Does anyone out there know it? I like this one a little better, I think.

Note: I adore Grand-daddy. He is one of those very special people in my life. Never mind that he is my father-in-law. I would love him even without knowing his son. He knows he's a curmudgeonly person. We don't keep that opinion of him secret. He and I have a special relationship that developed after losing The Mighty Hunter's mom and while he recuperated from his bypass surgery. He and I are able to be very honest with each other and he allows me to hold him accountable for his sneaking a cigarette from time to time but lets me spoil him with chocolate chip cookies and home-made vegetable soup and cornbread. He is a wonderful man, whom his sons (particularly The Mighty Hunter) emulate. I see a lot of him in The Mighty Hunter.

And that's fine with me.

I love my curmudgeons!

Now for those of you who have been lurking without commenting, please let me know that I'm not strange in knowing the meaning of curmudgeon.