Yesterday, I took myself to Chic-Fil-A (or Chic-a-fill as mama calls it) for lunch. As I was leaving the restaurant I drove right past Taco Bell and had a revelation. I no longer crave the Bell. I was amazed and somewhat saddened. My relationship with Taco Bell began back in high school when my friend Mentanna introduced me to the bean burrito with extra cheese. She taught me to keep it simple back then. There was a two week period where we went everyday after school and then snuck our burrito's into the dollar movie theatre to watch Dirty Dancing. We were such rebels. I've seriously seen Dirty Dancing at least forty times in my life. NOBODY puts Baby in a corner.
In college, I was poor and a night out on the town for me and my boyfriend back then was to go to Taco Bell and splurge. By then, my tastes had broadened to the Nachos BelGrande and the soft taco supreme, but I still held a special place in my heart for the bean burrito. Add some sour cream and it was so delicious!
After college I kept the Bell tradition alive because I was addicted. I craved it like nothing else. Many a friend has had to make a late night run for the border with me. (Shout out to Sharon and Mel here.) I loved it all. The crunchiness of the Nachos supreme, the cheesy goodness of a cheesy gordita crunch, the fillingness of the grilled stuffed burrito! OH! I could go on and on. I swear I married Mike after I found out that he hates Taco Bell but he would still take me there to eat because he knew how much I loved it. The selflessness!
Anyway, when we moved to Laramie last year I can't tell you how happy I was to find a Taco Bell there. I actually called up friends in California to let them know that there was some sort of civilization in Wyoming. Imagine my disappointment when I went to the Bell for the first time in Laramie and it wasn't up to par! But, I forgave. I thought it was just having a bad food day. After my fourth visit there I had to admit that this Taco Bell was just not good. And I ceased to visit it. I had withdrawels. Let's not forget that I was pregnant and had cravings! Sadly, I had to turn to McDonald's. Their quarter pounder with cheese meal got me through many a hard time in Wyoming.
One of the joys in moving back to Texas was the realization that I could start up my affair with the Bell once again. I dreamed of our reunion. I hit it our first week back. And it wasn't as good as I remembered. Cautiously, I went back one more time. And it wasn't as good as I remembered. It seems my time away from the Bell has in fact healed my addiction to it. I feel like Judas as I turn instead to Baja Fresh or Chipoltle. I'm sorry TB, but I'm over you.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Frumpy Town
Someone please help me! Call Oprah, Ellen, Rachael Ray, I don't care. But, I REALLY need a makeover. I have no fashion sense anymore. Of course this is coming from the girl who made a conscious decision to wear pink pants and a purple t-shirt with a picture of Pink Panther playing tennis with multiple rackets on it for our fifth grade class picture. And let's not forget the glasses with my initials in gold on the front. But, let's DO forget about the eighties. I can't be held responsible for that entire decade. The point is I don't have anything in my closet that says I'm a hip, youngish, cool new mom. Instead I look like a tired, frumpy, out of date mom. And I really don't want to embarrass Jake. I know a lot of this is due to my new body by baby and things would look better on me if I could just lose that last ten pounds. Somehow, I think more exercise and less chocolate is needed for that to happen. But until that day, I would really like to look cute again. So if you can hook me up with "What Not To Wear" or if you just want to come to Austin and take me shopping that would be fabulous.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Happy Six Months Jake!
Little Mister is six months old today! I thought I would write down what I remember from the day of his birth since experience tells me you soon forget. All I know about the day I was born is that my belly button came untied in the nursery at some point!
Jake was due on Dec. 9th, but when I went in for my appointment that day, the midwife just looked at me, shook her head and said "he's not ready yet." She advised me to go home and sleep (yeah, right!) and drink lots of fluids. Well, after four days of drinking lots of water, I wasn't too surprised when I started peeing my pants. Just a trickle, here and there, nothing too big. I just considered it one more humiliation in what I felt was my body's way of turning against me. I talked to my best friend and my sister that night and told them about my developing need to wear Depends undergarments. We started to wonder if this could actually be my water breaking. So, the next morning I went to see the midwife again. That's when I got sent to the hospital.
I remember being hooked up to a monitor that showed you each contraction you were having. I laid in bed with Mike by my side all morning and into the afternoon watching these contractions show up on the monitor. I felt nothing! I thought, what have women been complaining about for so long? This is a breeze! Surely, I am a super woman. About every hour, my midwife would come in to check me and sadly deliver the same news. I wasn't dilating at all, this might take awhile. So what, I thought? I could do this for hours. Around 4pm she decided to give me some drugs to induce labor. That's when I felt my first real contractions. On the pain scale of 1 to 10 I labeled them about a four. We kept this up until around 7pm when the pain started registering higher, like a 7 or 8. At this time, Mike (who is wonderful) asked me if it would be okay to order a pizza and have it delivered to the room. I (who am also wonderful) said, "sure honey!" Unfortunately, by the time the pizza arrived the contractions had gone up to about a 9 on that pain scale. Now, I had great nurses who had been helping me through the pain up to that point. They were trying to get Mike involved by advising him to rub my back during contractions. They had me sitting on one of those big round exercise balls. A really bad contraction hit and when I looked at Mike to see if he was coming to help me what I saw was my husband sitting in a chair with his feet propped up stuffing pizza and banana peppers into his mouth! I may have come unglued. I remember asking him to come rub my back. (He says I yelled at him.) I don't think he had been paying attention to the nurses direction on how best to rub my back during contractions because he was doing it all wrong. So, I asked him to stop. (He says I yelled.)
By 10pm I had had enough and begged for an epidural already. They finally agreed and called in the doctor who does that. When she entered the room, I proudly told her that she was my new best friend. Mike had to leave the room during the epidural because he faints at the sight of needles. My parents showed up about that time, and I was feeling much better. I even wanted Mike to come back in the room. We waited and waited. We napped and waited some more. Around 6am the following morning they checked and said I was only dilated to 5cm would I consider a c-section? YES! My trusted nurses of the previous night got to go home and what took their place can only be described as little miss perky. Now, if you know me, you know I don't do perky. She came in the room fired up and just kept saying "LET'S GO HAVE A BABY!!" They wheeled us into the operating room around 7:15 to get things started. My new best friend was still with me to give me more drugs so I wouldn't feel anything. They draped a sheet up so we couldn't see the doctors, but we could hear them. Right before they took out the baby, we heard one of the nurses say "Oops!" Now, that is not something you want to hear when you're in surgery. I know this because the doctor told her that you should never say oops while you're operating on someone. Mike and my new best friend told me it was nothing to worry about. Finally, the baby was out and they held his little head up over the draped sheet so we could see him. I remember thinking he looked like a little puppet dancing overhead because all I really saw was his face! I imagined his head glued to a popscicle stick for some reason. Mike went with Jake and the nurse while they gave him his first bath. While the doctor was finishing up with me, one of the nurses (a different one this time) exclaimed "What's that?" Again, not something you want to hear when you're in surgery. I let it go this time, I was just so happy to finally have Jake here.
Jake was due on Dec. 9th, but when I went in for my appointment that day, the midwife just looked at me, shook her head and said "he's not ready yet." She advised me to go home and sleep (yeah, right!) and drink lots of fluids. Well, after four days of drinking lots of water, I wasn't too surprised when I started peeing my pants. Just a trickle, here and there, nothing too big. I just considered it one more humiliation in what I felt was my body's way of turning against me. I talked to my best friend and my sister that night and told them about my developing need to wear Depends undergarments. We started to wonder if this could actually be my water breaking. So, the next morning I went to see the midwife again. That's when I got sent to the hospital.
I remember being hooked up to a monitor that showed you each contraction you were having. I laid in bed with Mike by my side all morning and into the afternoon watching these contractions show up on the monitor. I felt nothing! I thought, what have women been complaining about for so long? This is a breeze! Surely, I am a super woman. About every hour, my midwife would come in to check me and sadly deliver the same news. I wasn't dilating at all, this might take awhile. So what, I thought? I could do this for hours. Around 4pm she decided to give me some drugs to induce labor. That's when I felt my first real contractions. On the pain scale of 1 to 10 I labeled them about a four. We kept this up until around 7pm when the pain started registering higher, like a 7 or 8. At this time, Mike (who is wonderful) asked me if it would be okay to order a pizza and have it delivered to the room. I (who am also wonderful) said, "sure honey!" Unfortunately, by the time the pizza arrived the contractions had gone up to about a 9 on that pain scale. Now, I had great nurses who had been helping me through the pain up to that point. They were trying to get Mike involved by advising him to rub my back during contractions. They had me sitting on one of those big round exercise balls. A really bad contraction hit and when I looked at Mike to see if he was coming to help me what I saw was my husband sitting in a chair with his feet propped up stuffing pizza and banana peppers into his mouth! I may have come unglued. I remember asking him to come rub my back. (He says I yelled at him.) I don't think he had been paying attention to the nurses direction on how best to rub my back during contractions because he was doing it all wrong. So, I asked him to stop. (He says I yelled.)
By 10pm I had had enough and begged for an epidural already. They finally agreed and called in the doctor who does that. When she entered the room, I proudly told her that she was my new best friend. Mike had to leave the room during the epidural because he faints at the sight of needles. My parents showed up about that time, and I was feeling much better. I even wanted Mike to come back in the room. We waited and waited. We napped and waited some more. Around 6am the following morning they checked and said I was only dilated to 5cm would I consider a c-section? YES! My trusted nurses of the previous night got to go home and what took their place can only be described as little miss perky. Now, if you know me, you know I don't do perky. She came in the room fired up and just kept saying "LET'S GO HAVE A BABY!!" They wheeled us into the operating room around 7:15 to get things started. My new best friend was still with me to give me more drugs so I wouldn't feel anything. They draped a sheet up so we couldn't see the doctors, but we could hear them. Right before they took out the baby, we heard one of the nurses say "Oops!" Now, that is not something you want to hear when you're in surgery. I know this because the doctor told her that you should never say oops while you're operating on someone. Mike and my new best friend told me it was nothing to worry about. Finally, the baby was out and they held his little head up over the draped sheet so we could see him. I remember thinking he looked like a little puppet dancing overhead because all I really saw was his face! I imagined his head glued to a popscicle stick for some reason. Mike went with Jake and the nurse while they gave him his first bath. While the doctor was finishing up with me, one of the nurses (a different one this time) exclaimed "What's that?" Again, not something you want to hear when you're in surgery. I let it go this time, I was just so happy to finally have Jake here.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Old and New Friends
Amy and I recently got in touch with one of our friends from the jr. high/high school era. We all met up today at a park and let the kids play together. Well, Jake pretty much played by himself, but their kids are about the same age and everyone had a good time!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Pool Party
Yesterday, we had our first public pool experience as a family. There were some very interesting folks at the pool. Jake loved being in the water. He splashed around and wasn't scared at all. We do need to find some sunglasses that we can keep on him because it looked like the sun was bothering his eyes a little bit. Other than that, I'm pretty sure we have a future Olympic swim champ on our hands!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Friday Night
I had a date on Friday night. And it wasn't with my husband. One of the best things about moving to Austin is that my best friend since childhood, Amy, lives here. It's been so much fun having her to hang out with these last few weeks. Especially after being so friend deprived in Laramie! So anyway, last week she invited me go with her to her Bunco group on Friday night. I was so excited to get out of the house and meet new people! As the day wore on and it closer and closer to Bunco time I felt myself getting more and more excited and even a little bit nervous. Because what if these new people didn't like me? It felt like high school all over again. I took the time to scrounge around in the closet and find clothes that weren't covered in spit up and got dressed to go out. I really didn't want to embarrass Amy by showing up with stains on my clothing. I even put on makeup! I wore eye shadow and mascara and everything! And as a final touch I got out my jewelry box and found a cute little necklace to wear! I felt good. Mike even told me I looked pretty when I asked him "hey do you think I look pretty?" Of course this was after he tried to make me feel guilty about leaving him home alone with Jake. Which didn't work. Now, I have a problem with my imagination. So, on the way over to Amy's house I was thinking about all of the people I would meet at Bunco. And I was thinking of all of the clever things I would say to make them love me. They would be asking Amy at the end of the night why it took her so long to introduce me to them. I was already thinking about how they would call me up next week and ask me to go out and do things with them. Like shopping at the mall or lunch or play dates with the kids. Plus, I had baked a chocolate cake to take with me. Who wouldn't love a person who shows up with cake? Needless to say, nothing could have lived up to the hype I had created in my own mind. It was a fun night and I did meet some very nice people, but so far no one has called to ask me out again. And at the end of the day, the only person that tells me I'm pretty is Mike (who is also pretty fun to hang out with!)
Friday, June 1, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)