Ok, people. Who stole Wednesday through Friday of last week? Cause I really only remember the weekend. Man, I have to lay off the Boons Farms.
But, it is Tuesday, and I am feeling random. Here goes:
To the people at my husband's insurance company,
You should be forewarned that a grumpy, pregnant woman will be calling you at exactly 6:am YOUR TIME. Because you fail to note on the insurance card, or in your message, that you operate on Pacific Time. Not EST. So I have been calling you for the past few hours. Until said husband pointed out that they are in Cali... Now, I understand that times have caused you to not be a 27/7 help line anymore. And that most of the layoffs in said company have been in your state. So, it is reasonable that you would vent your wrath on us mid-westerners who still have jobs. But that doesn't mean I'll be nice to you now, either. I'm just saying, you asked for it.
I'll move on, though.
Why can't people merge on the highway? And I'm not just talking about the maroons who wait until the last second to merge into the correct lane thinking they just got ahead. I also mean the people who are in the lane being merged into. For god's sake, let the other people in. It's not going to kill you. It won't make you late. I'm not saying let a whole line of 10 cars in, but just one? Really? That's why it's called a Merge! Besides, it's good car karma. And you can never have too much of that.
Before this weekend, I had thought I had seen dirty kids. You know, the kids who come in from the rain covered in mud? But, no. I hadn't seen anything. We took LG camping for the first time. And I had originally said, "Well, maybe we'll skip baths for the weekend. It's only two nights. He'll be fine." Hmmm, not so much. So dirty that PB agreed he needed a bath, too. His feet were black on the bottom. He had dirt in his diaper (man, I have no idea how Houdini does that. The kid never goes without a onsie. How does he get stuff into the diaper???) Food in his hair. Grime between the fingers, under the nails. Ewww. Poor PB had to sacrifice his quality 10 minutes of alone time in the shower to take LG in with him. Which freaked him out, but that's another story for another time. I wish I had thought to take pictures. (oh, and we had a great time, also. dirt included.)
We also discovered this weekend that LG can't eat hot dogs, and is stubborn as a mule. When he eats something he can't chew enough to swallow, he hoards it in his cheeks, like a chipmunk. But keeps putting more into his mouth. This weekend it was hot dogs. I knew he still had food in his mouth when we took him out of his high chair. And when we put him into his car seat to go on our driving tour. At our first "lookout" I decided he'd had enough time to chew or swallow (this was before we realized that he couldn't chew and swallow it...). I tried to pry his little mouth open and get the rest of his lunch out. No go. I didn't get a thing. He did bite me, though. Not five minutes down the road, long after I had put the napkins back into the diaper bag in the back of the car, he spits the contents of his mouth down his shirt. In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, "Why you little!!!!" sigh. But now we know better. Nothing that requires molars will go within grabbing distance.
The Un-Mom spoke about warm chocolate cake this morning. Now I'm thinking I might need to make cake tonight. Because we really need more sweets in our house. Mmmmm, cake. Oooooh, or Lava Muffins! We haven't had Lava Muffins with Raspberry sauce in a long time! Mmmmm.
Must go now and fantasize about cake, uhm, I mean work. Yeah, must go work now. Bad cake. Go back into your mental corner and think about what you've done...