Welcome to the 21st Century

That's right, Ladies and Gentlemen, Amanda has become a thoroughly modern woman. She now owns a cell phone! Yippee!

Here she is in all her beauty

My in-laws offered to stick me on their family plan, again; my husband has been begging me to get a cell phone for months, if not years; and I've had a few fun nights of driving around lost in the rain; so the timing was finally right and I gave in. I'm not looking forward to being available 24/7 but when I cancel my land line at home I'll be saving a good $15-$20 a month so that's exciting. We're trying to port our number over too so it shouldn't be too much of an inconvenience. After I get over the inconvenience of trying to figure out how to use the thing, I mean. Don't worry, Keith is test driving it for me, and once he has all of the gadgets figured out I may get a chance to look at it. The guy at the store sold me this one because it has the least features and holds up the best to liquid damage (aka saliva). Seriously, that was the sales pitch. I guess he could see I needed a simple, sturdy phone, what with the crazy kids running around and the pregnant belly sticking out a mile. We'll see how it goes.

It's Official

I think hell must have frozen over. Not that you would notice by the weather. Near record breaking high today...Come on! I'm eight months pregnant, could I please have a break from the heat? (Not likely, this is AZ, remember?)


But something must be going on. Why you ask? Because...I don't have a single book to read! Alright, alright...I suppose I could finish The Taming of the Shrew (last month's book club pick) or even start on this month's (Mansfield Park) since we do meet on Wednesday. But seriously, who really wants to read Shakespeare or Jane Austen when they don't have to? Okay, probably a lot of you. But not me. I have a strong aversion to Austen that I just can't get over. And even though I finished a great literary mystery all about the fascinating life of Shakespeare (or should I say Edward de Vere?) last night, I still don't want to read one of his plays.

So what do I do? I make a plea for book recommendations for one. (Please send me something good, please!) And then I bite the bullet and start reading Twilight. When I promised my teenage sister I would read the series someday, when there was nothing else to read, I honestly never thought that day would come. How could you not have anything to read?

For future reference, this is how-

1- Have two rambunctious kids who don't allow you to casually browse the library shelves for a good read, thus requiring you to grab the first two novels within reach, and herd everybody out of the door before you get one more shush from the librarian or dirty look from the old man on the computer.

2- Become eight months pregnant and enjoy the wee hours of the morning all to yourself, because it is absolutely impossible to sleep, thus causing you to polish off every library book, cheesy paperback, and magazine in the house within a matter of hours.

Really quite easy, when it comes down to it. So here I am. In a place I never thought I would be. I'm trying really hard not to be skeptical about how fantastic these books are. I'm only on the second chapter. And every hater I know has had to come crawling back on her hands and knees, sheepishly admitting she loved them. But I have my doubts. I know "it's not just about vampires, it's more of a romance," but truthfully that statement doesn't excite me either. So wish me luck and I'll keep you posted.

Please, Can I?

Can I call him officially potty trained if he has gone three days without an accident? Including trips to the grocery store (the infamous Blackout Trip), the pool, the dentist, breakfast at IHOP, storytime at the library, and three hours of church? And woken up dry in the morning and stayed dry during naps? Can I please? Or will that jinx the whole thing?

Always something

I took my 28 week glucose test last week. I was so paranoid about failing it and having to take the three hour test that I didn't eat anything remotely sugary for a full 24 hours beforehand. And then I prayed that my breakfast of peanut butter toast wasn't enough to put me over the edge. All that worry paid off. I came in at a safe 105 (anything under 130 is considered good).

However, I did register as anemic. It wasn't a huge surprise; I was anemic with my first pregnancy, but only enough to receive an admonition about my diet. It must be worse this time around because now I have to take iron pills. Even after a week I don't quite understand how these things work. The directions recommend I take them on an empty stomach, with a "vitamin C drink," but not within two hours (before or after) of eating wheat, eggs, or milk. What else is there to eat? Everything has one of those ingredients! So instead of snacking my way through the evening (hey, my stomach is the size of a walnut these days so I get hungry often, but can't hold much) and then going off to bed with a glass of chocolate milk and my prenatal vitamin (the perfect way to unwind after a long day), I am starving myself and heading off to bed with a glass of orange juice, an iron supplement and prenatal vitamin, a growling stomach, and a headache. It doesn't make for restful sleep or pleasant mornings...as I found out on Friday.

Friday I really needed to go grocery shopping. The best time is first thing in the morning after I drop my husband off at work, because it is not too hot and there is no one else in the grocery store. I'm quite lazy (i.e. I love sleep more than looking good) so I pretty much roll out of bed and leave the house in my PJs. Anyhow, as we were making our way down the grocery aisles I started to feel a little queasy. I scolded my self for not eating something but continued with the shopping; after all, who wants to leave what they've started and have to come back and start all over again later? Well then, as we were paying for the groceries my vision started to go a little fuzzy. I silently begged the cashier to hurry it up a little so I could find a display to sit down on for awhile. She didn't oblige, being too interested in her conversation with the cashier in the next lane, but eventually we were done and on our way.

As soon as I started pushing the cart, I knew I was going to pass out. There is a bank at the front of the store with a couple of chairs for customers, so I aimed for those and prayed we would make it before I was out cold. The world started to spin and my vision narrowed until finally everything went black. I thought we were close to the chairs so I started waving my hand around, like a blind woman, trying to find contact. "Where are the chairs Addison?" I asked my son. I never could find one and was somehow mildly aware that I probably looked like a fool, so I gave up and put my head down between my legs instead.

I'm not really sure how long I stayed that way, but thankfully my hand on the cart never came loose so I didn't suffer a terrific public fall. When my vision came back, a few foggy inches at a time, I found the chair, plopped down, and reached for the first thing I could find to eat in our cart (Quaker Oatmeal Squares - the best cold cereal ever!) My son was distressed to say the least and kept asking why we weren't going home, but I found it impossible to answer for a few minutes. When speech returned, I told him mommy was sick and so we sat snacking for a good fifteen minutes. I didn't want to risk driving home and killing my kids if I happened to black out again.

Thankfully, we made it safely home, despite my woosiness, and once the kids and cold groceries were inside, I did what any sensible, emotionally instable, pregnant woman would do...sat on the kitchen floor and balled my eyes out. I swear, it's always something. The question of the day remains, was it the anemia or the blood sugar that caused the black out, and how in the world am I supposed to balance it all?

Attack of the Dishwasher

Have you been to the ER with your kids yet? My son is three and despite my expectations for several rounds of stitches by this age, we have yet to take him in. Yesterday we got pretty close, but no cigar.

We took a family trip to Sears last night to buy a new water filter and some vacuum bags. (I don't do errands alone with the kids anymore; it's just too much of an effort for a fat pregnant lady.) We had barely arrived and were making our way to the back of the store when my ever curious son (you know the type, always looking everywhere except where they are going?) walked straight into the edge of the dishwasher display. He immediately starts screaming bloody murder. Knowing that he has a tendency to overreact, I give him a hug, tell him it's going to be OK, and to watch where he is walking in the future. He calms down after a few minutes, lets go of my legs and turns to follow my husband. And that's when I notice that there is a fountain of blood pouring down the back of his head and into the collar of his shirt. It was like a scene from "The Sixth Sense." That one where the boy is smiling and beckoning and then turns around and there is an bloody axe sticking out of his head.

Needless to say, we grabbed Addison and made for the bathroom pronto. Keith was justly worried, but I insisted that all head wounds bleed a lot, so we should clean it up and assess the damage before rushing off to the hospital. We located the men's room first so Keith had the honors of clean up duty. I felt a little weird standing outside of the restroom listening to Addison scream while men walked up to the door, hesitated for a minute or two, and then either entered or walked away. I almost felt like I needed to explain our circumstances to everyone who passed by so they wouldn't think a child was being molested in the men's room. Seriously, what would you think if you heard a little boy screaming in the bathroom?

Anyhow, I finally asked a saleswoman if she had a First Aid kit handy, just for something to do. She walked nonchalantly into the back for a few minutes and then told me someone would be coming to help me shortly. A young man walked out a bit later, empty handed, and asked what he could do for me. I told him what had happened and suddenly he was defensive.

"It happened here? Do I need to fill out an incident report?"

"No, but do you have some Neosporin or something?"

So he disappears into the back and comes out with a band-aid. A Band-aid! How is that going to help with a head wound, especially on a head full of hair? Whatever...

I tell him where to find my husband and son, "Just follow the screaming," and two seconds later the associate comes rushing out of the bathroom, runs into the back, and comes back out wearing rubber gloves and carrying an arm load of goodies, scissors at the ready.

"What in the world does he think he is doing with those?" I'm thinking. "He'd better not be trying to do stitches himself, that's for darn sure!"

By this time, I'm a little annoyed. When someone asks for a First Aid kit, you would think there would be a bit more of a rush. Not that my son's life was in any danger, but come on, at least come out prepared to help, not just to waste time asking questions.

In the end, it just turned out to be a nice surface scratch, nothing serious. We gobbed him up with antibiotic cream, filled out the stupid incident report ("Just in case you end up going to the hospital," the young man insisted. "Yeah, just to cover your tush in case we decide to sue, more like," I'm thinking,) and prayed that nobody would comment on Addison's blood matted hair or the stains on our shirts as we finished our shopping and headed out the door.

Keith tried to take a picture of the mess with his cell phone, but Addison was being too jittery so you'll just have to imagine the scene. I'm telling you, think "Sixth Sense" and you'll be right on.

Memories of Mike

Did anyone watch the Michael Jackson memorial service today? Me neither. I am recovering from a long 4th of July weekend camp out and it just didn't top my to do list. (Laundry did, however.) My husband's co-workers had it on at the office though and apparently it was quite the spectacle. So I thought, even though I wasn't Michael's BFF (heck, I never even met the guy) I would pay my own little tribute to the Prince of Pop.

My first memory of Michael Jackson occurred circa 1987 on a trip to Disneyland. He was the star of the Captain Nemo attraction, showing in 3D. Sadly, my most vivid memory is actually of the furry little flying creature that kept flitting about my head. I was so sure that if I just reached a tiny bit farther or moved just a teensy bit faster, I could snatch that thing right out of the air.

My next recollection comes from second grade. I had been invited to my first sleepover party. (Okay, probably not invited, but finally allowed to attend my first sleepover. My parents had a strict age limit for those sorts of things.) It didn't go very well. My friend's mother turned out to be a chain smoker and the only entertainment was watching Michael Jackson music videos. About the time "It doesn't matter if you're black or white" was being sung, I snuck into the kitchen and called my mom to pick me up.

Poor Michael fades from the picture for a time after this, not surfacing again until Junior year of college. My roommates and some good guy friends from our BYU ward decided to take a little road trip to San Diego. We were avid sports fans and the basketball team was playing in Cali that weekend. Our soundtrack for the trip? Michael Jackson's greatest hits. I confess I didn't know many of the lyrics. Leaving that sleepover early was finally coming back to bite me. So I sat in the back of the car and pretended to be excited. Fortunately once we hit the California border, the Beach Boys took precidence and I could join in the fun.

Fast forward a few years. I was married and expecting my first child at any moment. My younger sister was performing in a Stake Dance Festival and invited us to watch. I sat ever so uncomfortably in the high school auditorium throughout the show, enduring all of the fun comments people make when you are pregnant. "Wow! You look like you're gonna pop!" "Are you sure you aren't expecting twins? You're huge!" Things of that sort. My sister's ward eventually performed to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and I tried to figure out where she was standing so I could tell her whether she messed up or not. Unfortunatly they were all wearing black and white face paint so that didn't go over so well. After it ended I grabbed a late bite to eat at my parents' house and then headed home exhausted. As soon as we hopped into bed...my water broke.

So I guess, despite my apathy, Mikey really has been an integral part of my life. His songs have been there in the background of so many milestones: first trip to Disneyland, first sleepover, first child. How will I face the future without him? I'm not sure, but I'll do my best. RIP Michael Jackson!

Alright, alright...

Remember me? I used to blog once. But then life happened and I decided blogging wasn't exactly a primal need to be fulfilled so I let it slip by the wayside. Just to get people off of my back though, I guess I had better write something, sometime. So here you go - the catch up blog. A list of the top ten things that have happened in the last three months.

1- Addison experienced high fever convulsion #2 at someone else's house. Another raging ear infection to blame. Are we to have this great joy visit us each time he gets an ear infection? With my luck, probably...

2- Suffered through a cousin's wedding in which my mother, some poor sucker in her ward, and I were the musical ensemble. Let me just assure you that an eighth grade musical education does not amount to much in a situation like that. Even with six months of private lessons just for the occasion, I didn't feel very confident about my performance. Hopefully the best day of my cousin's life can be remembered without the soundtrack.

3- Were surprised with the pregnancy of our third child. We will be bringing another daughter into the world come October.

4- Endured six bouts of the stomach flu with each of my two children, two rounds with the hubby, and just to make it fair, one for me. That's a whole lot of puke to clean up. Are you starting to see why I haven't been blogging?

5- Finally added a patio and porch onto the back of our house. It feels so much cooler, even if that's not reflected in the electric bill as much as I had hoped.

6- Failed time after time in potty training my son. He can still go to school wearing Pull-ups right? The other kids won't make fun of him too much will they?

7- Had fun fishing with the Carpenters despite the fact that it never stopped raining.

8- Enjoyed a week of Girls Camp (much to my surprise I admit - although Keith probably has a different opinion!)

9- Witnessed Charlotte's hundred and first step. The first 100 happened while I was away at Girls Camp!

10- Signed up for swim lessons. Despite a rough first day, we might make swimmers out of these kids yet.