Not all those who wander, are lost. (and Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked me)

Just when things start to level themselves out, you get a fucking black eye. Really? It looks like someone straight up punched me right in the eye, cut on the eyebrow and all. I need a cool story other than what really happened, so I figure I'll go with Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked me. OR it was a crack drug deal gone wrong too soon? Actually, its entirely because I'm short. I was reaching for the mac&cheese on the very top shelf, next to a giant can of beans. Beans fell, busted me IN THE FACE and blood started pouring out. So, yeah. Chuck Norris kicking me is far better than a can of pork and beans attacking me. C'mon life, give a girl a break!

*****

I took the little to see The Lorax Sunday, it was actually pretty cute. It was a nice day out so I was assuming most people would not be at the movie theatre, I assumed wrong. After we spent a million dollars on popcorn and Pepsi we finally made our way into the crowded theatre. I didn't want to  sit up close because that's gay, so I scanned around and found two open seats on the end about half way up, perfect. We sit down and the jackhole behind perfect said seats is all "Really?" I looked back and he's got two kids with him and apparently I sat in the seat in front of one of the kids. Its god damn movie theatre guy, and stadium seats, and I have a three year old. After giving him the stink eye I was all "Yep". I mean, I'm not a giraffe, I'm just pushing 5 feet tall and if you want a crowd less movie, just stay your ass at home. I hate the seats at this theatre, they don't recognize Lily's whole 30 pound body and anytime she sit backs, it folds her into a sandwich so anytime I take her, I spend the ENTIRE movie holding her seat down so she doesn't go batshit crazy and fall in between, passing her the 100 pound Pepsi and licking glorious popcorn butter off my fingers. We're a hot mess but we have the best time. And its these little things that will stand out for her, and for me. I love when her conversations start with "Remember that time we.." I love giving her memories and seeing her turning into this beautiful girl she is becoming, soothes my soul.

*****
I haven't been home in two months and twelve days. I know through all of this I've made a lot of people unhappy, I've broken some hearts, some bridges have been burned and I have great remorse for anyone that I've hurt however I'd much rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I'm not. It's as simple as that. Above all, I try be considerate of others feelings while staying true to myself and that's really all I can do. If people want to be a part of your life, whether it be your new one and old one or a revised one, they will be in it. Much like when you have children, some people can't accommodate your new life and so, they fall short and phase themselves out. Much like I imagine of you were to find out someone really close to you, or perhaps your child, were gay. Some people can't handle it, so they don't. Just as you make your own choices, so do others. I feel like my situation is similar to that. I was unhappy. I left my husband on a quest to find myself. To find my way back to him. Hell, to find something anything that I felt would fill whatever void was within me. The people who have chosen to leave my side are expecting failure but they should know me better than that, its just not an option. I'm stable. I haven't missed any work, my bills are paid and up to date, my baby girl is healthy, happy and gets to see both of parents, albeit separately, but equally. I have a legion of unbiased support. I am not failing and you can't build up the weak, by bringing down the strong.  And while I have moments of sadness and weakness, moments where I let myself feel words spoken and see the hurt and disappointment on faces, I also have moments that I let happiness shine through. Maybe I'm not supposed to, maybe I'm supposed to feel like shit for the rest of my life, maybe I am supposed to fail but taking the little on mommy&me dates, talking for hours over wine with a dear friend, coffee surprisingly being delivered to work and the realization that this is my life and it can be whatever I want it to be, make me happy. When your back is against the wall, I've found that this is what you do: breathe. be thankful for what you DO have. Save your strength for things you can change. Forgive the ones you can't. The best remedies are sleep and laughter, well, and wine. Do what is right in your heart, whether it makes sense, whether its right or wrong. Because people will judge you always, no matter what and you are the only one who knows what is felt in your heart. And that's all that matters.

Theory of an anesthesiologist and my LAP!

I'm anxious for my LAP surgery tomorrow, however I hate being under anesthesia. My last procedure I was spread eagle, knocked out in front of god knows how many people and the last thing I remember was a nurse skimming through People magazine as I was wheeled in, I mean I thought my vagina was more exciting than that but whatevs, so I always have this weird fear of people doing things to my vagina. Even though for this surgery they are making an incision through my belly button. Even though I know no one even cares about my vagina. Even though I know they would go to jail for shit like that. Still freaks me out. I'm anxious to finally get an answer, any answer, after two years of the old doctor doing the same things over and over. I am ready for this. I am ready to know. Bring on the IV of feel-good, the magazine skimmers and the vagina peekers! Just leave out the percocet, doc. It will make me puke. Everywhere.

My brother is taking me. Mainly because he's awesome. And he already knows my inappropriate talk of vagina's. After all, we did come from the same one.


Also, I was looking at my blog statistics and the post viewed more than any other post on my blog was titled "Poked, Prodded & Dildo wanded" What.the.fuck. Just goes to show what people browsing the Internet are interested it. Buncha sickos! I guess now I know what to label posts if I really want people to see them.

Maybe I should just label all of my posts "VAGINA".

good news for people who love bad news.

I got a call from the new RE office and they need me to come in to go over my lab and pap results, this was not expected as my next appointment was to be after and HSG and before the LAP. Awesome. I go in on the 28th at 4:00. I do think he is going to bypass the HSG and go right ahead with the LAP in January as we did the hsg in 2010 with no results. That, of course, is if all of my labs came back normal, but lets face it, its me, there is always something standing in my way. I kind of expected it. However, it could ALWAYS be worse. I could be the lady on the most recent episode of Call of the Wildman. I tried to find a youtube clip of it and I couldn't so my illustration below is pretty much exactly what she looked like, just so you can get the full affect of her awesomeness. A few questions I have, do you really need that many brightly colored hair clips designated to one area of hair? And just how to you get a possum infestation? I mean they aren't little bugs or mice that squeeze through holes, they are freaking possums. I'm pretty sure as 'turtleman' was telling her about her issue this is what was going through her head "I don't even know what the FUCK a possum is. I thought they were cats. I named them. Why are there cameras here? I need more hair clips."

If you haven't seen "Call of the Wildman", do yourself a favor and tune in. You're in for a real treasure. *insert obnoxious call of the wild he does*

******

Every year, my good friend and I exchange Christmas letters, you know, the one your great Aunt sends you about her extravagant traveling and hobbies? Yeah, well we mock the shitty parts of our lives in our letters. So to keep with tradition, I'll share mine this year:

Dearest friends and family,

I hope this Christmas letter finds you well.

Our year has been rather eventful. We spent weekends visiting wineries and enjoyed a summer vacation in the Outer Banks to avoid going home and having "Bruce Bruce" knock on our door for loan money for his "insulin" problem. Our deck was finally completed in October and as by then it was too cool to use it, we are looking forward to sipping margaritas on it next summer. Lily has been blossoming in Pre-school, her newest phrases are "Poopy-butt!" and "You worry 'bout yourself". She's also been doing a very good job at maintaining both of her personalities, we refer to them as Jackal and Hyde. Her extracurricular activities include dance, watching Beauty and the Beast on repeat and picking her nose. I celebrated my eight year anniversary as keeper of the books this year, I received an excellent evaluation and a small pay raise as we've lost clients this year. I also received more work as I run that shit on a daily basis. I'm thinking of getting a real parrot for the office to keep me company to replace Lewis, the fake one, who keeps me company now. I've been partaking in a few hobbies myself since being alone at the office, such as learning to side braid my hair, broadening my vocabulary at Words with Friends and expanding my vocal abilities with the likes of Adele. I'm pretty sure I should get employee of the month, every month. We made a charitable donation this year of $450 to Culpeper County and the Town of Culpeper for personal property. Its such an honor to be able to park our cars in our driveway in their county. I wouldn't have spent that money any other way!

Yet another year I regret to inform you that Lily did not become a big sister. My cervix has attachment issues to cancer and my tubes seem to be that of an 80 year old whore. So in planning for 2012, the Doctor will insert a scope through my belly button and out my pelvis to check my pipes for blockage. I knew I got rid of my belly button ring years back for a good reason, aside from the fact it would get caught on my mom jeans, I would hate to have to explain an infertility scar every time I flashed my bling. We made no big purchases this year as we've been trying to save for the making of another child, unless you include the brand new 1994 truck with 200,000 miles on it that we bought to haul the necessities of life and to get us back and forth to work in the two snowstorms per year we have.

Wishing you the happiest of holidays! belted in my Adele voice

Stacy

But seriously, have a glorious Christmas bloggy friends! I'll be making reindeer food to put on the driveway so they don't miss our house, baking cookies for Santa so he knows we appreciate him, making sure the 'repeat' button works on the CD player to ensure Glee Christmas plays non-stop and plotting ways to tell people to get the hell out of my house on Christmas after I've had enough of their cheer just kidding, sort of. Enjoy the food, company, cheer and of course, the wine!

New RE & Holiday hullabaloo

I set up an infertility consultation with a new RE for December 14th! A few things I'm excited about, THEY ACCEPT OUR INSURANCE, the DR is a dude and the practice is only 15 minutes from my work and with my tied to the office work schedule, this works out extremely well. I'm excited to hear their plan of attack and I swear to sweet baby Jesus if they want to do Clomid I will go all crazy infertile on them. To recap where I'm at: It's been two years of negative pregnancy tests. December will be one year since the miscarriage. I've been charting and seem to be ovulating, the previous RE wanted to bypass Clomid (as I've already done several unsuccessful rounds on this) and go straight to injections and IUI and then those assholes stopped taking our insurance. We are only covered for office visits and blood work but every little bit helps. I'm anxious to see how much an IUI procedure will cost at the new office. I'm hopeful and going in head high but grounded. Its the first step on a staircase of many steps but if you believe in fate, you fight for it. My gloves are on. "Without strength, there is no courage. Without pain, there is no joy. Without struggle, there is no triumph."

*****
The joke of "we should do Christmas dinner at Erik & Stacy's" turned into the real deal. I'm actually really excited to not unwrap presents in a quick fashion, get cleaned up, dressed and leave the house all before noon. It will be refreshing to sip my coffee until its gone, to lounge in my pj's until I absolutely must get dressed and to fill my house with family, food and the Christmas ambiance that comes with it this time of year. And the Glee Christmas CD playing in the background, of course. It also means 24 hours of A Christmas Story and that's a must. I mean I have a lot of organizing and a little planning and decorating to do but I love this shit. I'm even going to send out an e-vite because the Morrison side of the family is always last minute, no one ever knows what time or where anything is or what they're supposed to bring. It also gives me a chance to make these:

And these:

This site should come with a disclaimer noting that it will CONSUME YOUR LIFE. Its awesome. Its more awesome than awesome. It will rock your crafty world. Luckily now through the end of December is slow at work so I have pretty much 8 hours a day to browse.

*****

We've been trying to save money with the holiday coming up  and we really can't tell where we've been spending all of our money besides gas and groceries and my husband claims he buys nothing, he can't cut back anymore than he does, which happens to be mostly true, he really doesn't buy much. However, this is how the conversation went, husband: "where can you cut costs? How about not buying a bottle of wine anytime you go to the store?" Me: "Did you just hear yourself? THAT IS NOT AN OPTION." You know those moms who go insane, like drive into a lake insane or chop husbands penises off in their sleep insane? I'm assuming that's because their husbands tried to cut their wine allowance. I'll take that win, husband. Besides, I'm building up my cork collection and I do not think my $7 indulgence (or sanity in a glass) is breaking the bank. Also, he's never had to wake Lily up during the week, shits crazy. Also, I just bought a wine bar that will not fill itself. Also, I'm just a really big fan of it.

hide the knives, husband. HIDE THE GODDAMN KNIVES.

Maybe if everyone is caught up in the food, wine and Christmas high they won't notice our Charlie Brown tree. or that all the knives are missing.

pure awesomeness.

We attended both of our Halloween parties which by the way, I've come to the realization that I'm too old to dance in 4 inch heels for 6 hours. My legs, ankles and poor feet feel like I just ran a ten miler. If people start asking why I'm walking like an 80 year old, I'm pretty much going to tell them I ran a ten miler. I think it's equivalent and Lily rocked her bumble bee costume in her parade at school. We sat around the fire pit handing out candy to all the little creatures and handing the torch to the end of the year Holidays. Lily's "Dance little skeletons" and "Pumpkins on a gate" songs will be replaced with Pilgrims and sharing. Painted pine cones will decorate the kitchen table and radio will soon be filled with the hum of Christmas songs. Some people commemorate the day after Halloween as the first day to listen to Christmas music, I don't judge. Let your freak flag fly! With the holidays and all of the glorious calorific foods that come with them quickly approaching I need to start running again. Exercise is one of the easiest things to fall out of the routine of doing and also one of the hardest things to get back into. I love the way it makes me feel when I'm doing it, I love how much healthier I feel after doing it and yet still can't find the right amount of motivation to lace up the running shoes. Its hard, especially around the holidays, to find the time to take care of yourself. Its hard for a mom in general to find time for herself but to continue to be that good mom, its necessary to do these things. Pick the little up 30 minutes late so you can get the pedi you've been putting off, sit in the parking lot with your iced latte that you don't want to share, jamming to songs she can't listen to anymore because she repeats "boobies and droppin' it low". Make a coffee date with your friend for 30 minutes after work, you will never regret it. It doesn't make you a bad mom, it makes you a better one.

******
Grammy, has a facebook. FB is a great way to stay in touch with family, keep up with life and share your pictures without downloading only 6 per email because that's all that will fit. I even have my in laws on there and most of my aunts and cousins and such, however, they know that sometimes I fail to have a sensor. If you friend me and don't think my "Lily said boobies" or "Knock knock mother fucker" statuses are awesome, then I'm not certain where you went wrong in life or why we're friends because that's funny shit. I love my Grammy but I just don't think she's ready for me. Besides, 'friending' her is just a bridge to my mother who knows that I'm inappropriate and like wine just refuses to embrace it. Clearly, I'm far too awesome for her liking. I'm also not sure ho she'd feel about my recent status of Lily toppling over in her carseat because when my husband put it back in the car he didn't strap it down. Why, dear husband, would you just put the carseat in its appropriate place only to look like its strapped in? I drove around with her chillin' in her carseat all loosey-goosey for TWO days. Only reiterating the fact I'm not sure how the hospital let us bring home a kid! I made a sharp right turn into the gas station and she and her jet pack looking carseat attached to her rolled over onto the seat and then rolled between the back of the drivers seat and the back seat of the car. She was wedged there like a turtle who was helpless. I could not stop laughing, I'm sure no one else at the gas station thought it was comical, in fact I'm certain the ol' bitch next to me was was going to call child protective services. Lily is all freaked out with a deer in the headlights look on her face and I can't muster the energy to help her yet because I'm still laughing. I gain composure, help the girl out and strap the carseat down. Girlfriend doesn't forget stuff, so I made sure to tell her DADDY was the one who let this tragedy happen. I'll tell her this story when she's old and thinks being a bad parent is not letting her stay out past 10:00. I imagine it will go like this, "remember that one time Dad didn't strap your carseat in and you were all loosey-goosey in the backseat? Don't let that happen on your date tonight!" I'll put it as my status that day because it's awesome. I probably won't friend her on FB either.

scars, yeah, she's got her scars

The candlelight vigil for my dear friend was perfect. Faces glowing amongst the candles flickering, stories told, tears shed and laughter ensued. Together, united, we all stood around the gravesite in a circle remembering the life of someone who touched each of our hearts. It was a cold October evening but the unity, stories and ambiance of the candlelight could keep even the coldest soul, warm. Strength comes in numbers and it was proven that night. All problems are set aside, age is insignificant and we all come together in a pain we each share, to keep the memory alive and to help each other heal through tears, joy and hope. Its a beautiful thing, to be a able to turn pain, into pride.

*****

I've been better at temping this month and lo and behold, what is this you ask? CH's on my chart! It means I most likely ovulated this month, I hadn't thought I had been and I'm still not entirely convinced as the post-o temps are still fairly low, but even a light O, is better than no O. this life theory goes for both types of O's if you catch my drift! We did have a little baby making action around the time I received CH's, so who knows! I am in no way getting my hopes up, I know how this goes and my last few months have been wishy-washy with short LP's. Its nice to think though, that it would be a miracle to 'unexpectetly' get pregnant after two years of trying.

*******

It may have been the cold meds that I'm taking to kick this cold, but I just had the most random e-chat with a customer service rep from the Halloween shop I bought my costume from, its also proof that I’m not an adult but it was too awesome not to share!

Hi, My name is JASON, what can I help you with today?

Stacy: Really? Is your name really Jason?

JASON: Yes. Why do you ask?

Stacy: I just figure most people who do these 24 hour online service things are from like India or something. No offense if you are actually from India or something.

JASON: None taken. Is there something I can help you with?

Stacy: So…you are from India. Oh, yes. I ordered a costume last week and never received a shipment email and I need it by the 28^th. Oh, and I don’t have my order number.

JASON: What is the order name?

Stacy: Hannibal Lector

Stacy: Just kidding. I bet you get that a lot being a Halloween costume store and all. It’s actually Stacy Morrison.

JASON: One moment, while I retrieve your information.

JASON: We do have your order information, it was received on 10/20 and it looks like it was refunded the same day.

Stacy: I’m not sure why it was refunded, I never cancelled it?

JASON: It shows you should have received a notice via email about your credit card not being accepted.

Stacy: Are you judging me right now because my credit card was not accepted?

JASON: No ma’am.

Stacy: Because some jackwagon stole my credit card number last week and bought what I’m assuming was $300 in Redskins gear.

JASON: I’m sorry to hear of that.

Stacy: Anyway, I check my email daily and never got anything.

JASON: I’m sorry of that also, this is what was sent: *sends copy of email*

Stacy: So basically I need to reorder in hopes that I get it by Friday so I can win a costume party as Minnie Mouse?

JASON: I wish I had better news for you but it seems that is what you will need to do. We offer three day shipping for $8.99 that will get it to you by the 28^th.

Stacy: I mean, that’s pretty much my only option at this point.

JASON: Touche.

Stacy: Are you even real? I bet you’re a robot named Jason.

JASON: I can assure you, I’m not. Is there anything else I can do for you today Ms. Morrison?

Stacy: A real robot wouldn’t tell me he was a robot anyway.

JASON: Well, if there is nothing else I can do for you, thank you for ordering!

Stacy: I’m in an office all day by myself. I bet this is your best day having a conversation with Hannibal Lector!

JASON: Have a happy Halloween!

Stacy: Do they have classes that like, teach you to send nice responses to belligerent/awesome people? I’m pretty sure if I was you, I would like talking to people in the USA.

 --
JASON is no longer available

Asshole.

We've got a busy weekend planned, a costume party Friday, (which by the way I landed on Minnie Mouse this year and Lily stood her ground on bumble bee) and the pumpkin patch followed by carving on Saturday. Its going to be a crisp fall weekend, one that you'll need to come home from picking out the perfect pumpkin to making up some hot chocolate while you watch pumpkin seeds glow in the oven.

when you're happy like a fool, let it take you over.

Retail therapy really is the best kind of therapy. I could go talk my heart out to a real therapist about the many a issue I have but damn if going and buying a new pair of hot heels doesn’t make me feel good. We went shopping and to a few wineries (yes, this is also fantastic therapy) with our friends on Monday and although I only came back with one shirt, the whole day was spent enjoying company and laughing, and laughter really is, the best medicine. We checked one winery off our list and moved onto the next, which happened to look like it was in the basement of a regular house, that is if you could get past the porta-john in the front yard. We were slightly frightened that we would knock on the door and an old man would yell to his ol’ lady to turn the TV off and get his pants. We decided to skip this one, since it was a sister winery to the first and shared same grapes, we didn’t really want to pay $7 to sit in a basement with father time scratching his balls while wiping the dust off the wine glasses and tasting the same shitty wine we tasted at the first place. I totally would have went in though, I love a good adventure and an even better story. On the way to our third winery of the day (we intended to hit four, we don’t mess around) we passed a smattering-of-shit-welded-together store. In the front yard was a giant metal rooster, if you haven’t read this story, read it and then the metal rooster sighting will blow your mind in awesomeness as it did mine. I have to have a giant metal rooster, I mean I guess I don’t need to go all crazy and get the giant, a little fella will do and it was only $80. My husband was not amused by my NEED for this rooster, nor could we fit it in my friends Mercedes but oh I will be going to back to get it, I will set it out on the hill behind my house, peeking out from the woods. I will be a great conversation piece. We all know I spend way too much time alone in my office, and as my own personal therapist I’m attributing my crazy chicken loving obsession to this. Just sayin.



That just happened.



I was on my way out of Lily’s classroom after I dropped her off for school and they had the parent-sign-up-to-bring-shit-to the class party board and I took a quick glace at who was bringing what and what they needed and you know what I picked? Pretzels. I’m the pretzel mom. Wtf. I know my baking abilities could be far better and I could have been cool and picked jello jigglers or even stepped out of the box and got a cool Halloween recipe or something but my hand wouldn’t stop me from writing her name beside freaking pretzels. I’m not a fan of being the pretzel mom, its Halloween, I could make any number of awesome things like witch fingers or whatever other creepy Halloween shit they have. Even worse, I signed up in pen. I don’t want to be the pretzel mom AND the crazy mom who scratches her kids name OFF of the pretzel list. Maybe I could totally redeem myself however by making the most awesome Halloween spaghetti brains those kids have ever seen. Too much? I’m pretty sure I’m over thinking the whole scenario seeing how chips and carrots also were taken; at least I’m not like the toilet paper mom or something. I’ll handle being pretzel mom this one time but I’ll kick the next parties ass.  You hear that Thanksgiving party? I’m coming for ya.

Have a glorious weekend, Friends!

happy endings.

I like Halloween, I like spending too much money on overpriced candy, I like sitting out on the front porch in a hoodie handing said candy out to all the littles, I like watching them run away with excitement, I like when my brother in law gives the way-too-old-for-this-shit teens a hard time about their lack of a costume and pillowcase bag, really? and you can't even say trick or treat? I like dressing up--reigning champ three years in a row say what? ladybug, glorious. bumble-bee, fabulous. Snookie, *insert your own jersey shore reference here* With Halloween approaching, at dinner one night I asked Lily what she would like to be. Her answer? a Christmas tree. After my eyes dried from laughing, I was all "really, Lily? a Christmas tree?" and she's all "yes, seriously." What? previous years ladybug and cat aren't up to par with your glorious idea of pine and presents? I'm not Chinese master sewer, where would one even find a pattern, do people really want to be Christmas trees for stuff? Yes, yes they do. Google is the answer to all life's questions, you don't know something about something, you google the shit out of it. Its like the holy grail of life, well to me anyway. Lo and behold, there are toddler Christmas tree costumes for a mere $49.99, complete with star, hole for face and presents as feet. Awesome. Just as I was really getting excited with this and all runnin' at the mouth with "think I won't order it" to my husband, she up and changes her mind. This is not ok, as unsure as I was about the Christmas tree idea, I really set out and embraced it and I just don't think I can settle for a bumble bee now. I will convince her and bring her back to the pine side, oh I will. Totally kidding, she can be whatever her little heart desires but don't think I won't leave the tree costume pictures all around the house covered in glitter to accent how freaking awesome it is.

I also just really like covering things in glitter.

We'd gotten two notices on our door from FedEx this week  that we had a package that had to be signed for. We thought by him leaving the notice that we could just sign the notice, put it back on the door and he'd swap the notice for the package. Turns out you have to sign for it in person. Problem is, he comes at 1:30, when the rest of the world is also, at work. We weren't even expecting a package so I got really excited, it must be a real treasure to need an in-person signature! My husband called to find out what exactly this treasure was and how we go about getting it, we weren't trying to drive all the way to FedEx in Fredericksburg for some mystery package that probably wasn't even for us. Turns out, it was for me! I love surprises! My excitement stops when they soon tell us, the are concert tickets. Concert tickets I ordered last Thursday for this Saturday's concert, I'd been expecting them in the regular ol' snail mail. Really? You need an in-person signature for Brad Paisley LAWN SEAT tickets? I didn't even pay for a seat, I stand in the lawn. Per the ticket company its their protocol to need someone in person so they would re-route the package to my work and mark it 'rush' and I should get it today. If not to call and they could give me a time frame of when they deliver Saturday. Awesome, I love coming into work on a Saturday just to sign for a package. This better make the $11 jiffy lube live beer taste like unicorns and rainbows 'cause I imagine that would be glorious.

I also just really like beer.

Random bits from this week:

People need not leave me in a waiting room for too long, self help pamphlets on being "addicted to porn" or "is the church leader touching you" make me giggly, thus making the serious meeting with a grin on my face, awkward. I laugh when I'm uncomfortable, thus making the majority of my encounters awkward. That's why I could never be a vagina doctor, or a butt doctor for that matter. I also have yet to get a bikini wax This has been on my list of to-do's, right next to paint the basement, for a year now. Take off your pants giggle, lay down and spread 'em wide giggle, rips hair follicles from my very sensitive area laughs uncontrollably. I wonder if they have experienced this type of wax-ee. I'm pretty sure they would talk about how awesome I am.

Warrenton has a 'happy ending' massage parlor. Seriously. One of my clients uses them and I know its an 'erotic' massage parlor because I did what was natural and googled it. Yep, I even categorized his expenses for the place as 'entertainment' so he knows I know. I'm slightly intrigued by it and slightly grossed out, but more grossed out then intrigued, that was a lie. I really want to know how you ask for a 'happy ending'. My husband suggested using the line "I want to blow some money...and a load" I almost pissed my pants laughing so hard, well, I probably did, when you have kids your bladder ain't what she used to be. Anyway, apparently $73 gets you a rub down in every sense of the word. And you know it ain't no Asian goddess givin' you the rub down, I'm sure its a little old Asian lady who probably can't even see which is why she's in this line of work anyway wearing a pair of rubber gloves, gettin' you down with the get down. I need to know, I feel like I need to send my husband in just to get the scoop and scope out the penis masseuse, not for any other reason than to tell our grandchildren this story. Hide yo' kids, Lily!

My weekend is going to be a good one, it's fat Friday and we're having pizza and watching Step Brothers at our best friends house and I'm going to spend far too much time Saturday curling my hair and putting make-up on for my once a year outing with my Brad Paisley girls. Have a glorious weekend, bloggy friends!

the friggin' preggo parade oh, & some real shit.

Shuttled Lily into her first ballet class, sans ballet or tap shoes so she totally rocked her first class in her DC's. It was as cute as it sounds. The little three year olds lined up in their pastel pink leotards, skirts and tights is probably them most angelic sight, ever. We waited with the parents in the waiting room while she came into her own element in class, never glancing back to see if mom and dad were there, we were of course, peeking in any change we got. Her class was to end at 5, so about a quarter till, the next age group started pouring in and along with that age group, were four pregnant moms, FOUR. I was stuck, in a tiny waiting room, with four freaking preggo's and not 'just barely showing' preggo's like, the baby's head may actually be crowing the cervix at any given moment preggo's. The freaking non pregnant to pregnant ratio was nuts, Seriously? am I being punked or some shit? Awesome. Maybe I should start drinking the water they have there, or just gouge my eyes out, since the first one I'm going to assume doesn't really work or I'd bathe in it, I'll go with the latter. WTF? I wasn't sure if I was in the wrong office, did I mistakingly end up at my OB's office? since I practically live there anyway. No, this was a freak case of the preggo parade somewhere that I least expected it. And the worst part will be, in a few weeks, all these preggo mom's will be toting in their newbies and I'll have to hear every single person "OoO" and "awww" over them. I will not be bitter. I will not be bitter. You know what would make dance class better? beer. I wish pregnancy was contagious, I would have rubbed up against all of them, in the most nonsexual way of course. The sperm would've been floatin' around that air I tell you what. Dear pregeth mothers of dance class, I hope all of your babies have big heads and you deliver vaginally. Sincerely, a skinny infertile who avoids you like the plague.

You know what preggo's can't do? Go to wine tastings with really awesome people. Be jealous preg's, be jealous. We met up at Old House Vineyards and spent some time with new friends, sitting out by the water and it was the most relaxed I've been in awhile. "Don't be afraid to fall in love. It's the only thing that matters in life. Fall in love with as many things as possible" I believe life is meant to be shared, the hard moments, the happy ones, every stage of life, every page in every chapter should be shared. We can reconnect with memories through people and each chapter has made you who you are. I believe I've been shown that people are brought into your life, exactly when you need them, whether you know it at the time or not, you are given who you need, before or after a crisis, before you're about to breakdown, before you're ready to give up, and each of these people have saved me from being everything I hate. Struggles make you strong, change makes you wise and the people I've met, are the wonders of my world. God makes no mistakes with the people you meet, with the people you fall in love with. I'm in love with wineries on Saturday afternoons with new best friends. I'm in love with sunshine on my shoulders and a really good rain. I'm in love with people. I'm in love with the smell of burning wood in the winter and sunscreen in the summer. I've found a new love in books. I'm in love with writing. I'm with love with songs that come on that take me back to a certain place, or person. I'm in love with laughter. I'm in love with with hearing 'mommy', even if its a thousand times a day, even if its being screamed. I have so much. I'm in, love.

settin' fire, to the rain

I love weddings, the new love circling the air, the happiness that ensues in watching two people about to embark on the journey that will lead them into the rest of their lives, the food, the music, the toasts and my personal favorite, open bar. Just kidding, sort of. One of my oldest friends got married Saturday, during hurricane Irene, or should I say, IN hurricane Irene. Yes, my dear friend decided come hell or high water (how appropriate) that she was getting married, outside. The cute little white chairs lined up by a gorgeous lake setting, however, we couldn't sit in them because it was raining, its ass off. Not a light sprinkle, a downpour and a rips-umbrellas-apart wind. Luckily, most of us at least came prepared with umbrellas but the poor bridesmaids, groomsmen and bride and groom, were umbrella-less. It was her day, and we all did whatever the bride wanted and froze our asses off while making her day as special as she wanted it. I don't even know why I bothered to curl my hair, it ended up messy ponytail style on the top of my head because with my hair type add in some rain and humidity and I slightly resemble a lioness--and not one with glorious locks, the straggly one in the corner who was just roughed up. Awesome.  Not even a hurricane was going to stop them from getting married and its definitely a memory they can never forget. Sometimes at weddings I daydream about how I would 're-do' my wedding. And when I say 'sometimes' I really mean every single wedding I attend. I mean I'd have the same groom and everything but I was 18 when I tied the knot and don't really remember planning any of it, I think my mother vicariously lived through me, which actually was fine because it was pretty badass but there are small things that I would have liked to have been a part of, or change. Its all water under the bridge now yes, that IS another water reference, thank you. but a grown married woman can still dream, right? I'll just live through my daughter's wedding. She will like Lillie's and hand made invitations, damn it. and open bar of course, duh.

As infertiles, we generally steer clear from baby showers at all costs. If we absolutely have to go to one, we will, but we tend to hang out around the food, shoveling it in so no one has much time to ask when we're going to have our next and when they do, we'll usually mumble something through the crunching of the carrots and pretend like someone else is calling us. Well, that's what I do anyway. I got suckered into going to a baby shower Sunday for someone I don't even know, yeah, what the hell is wrong with me? This girl is young, doesn't have much family, her boyfriend's family isn't very accepting of their 'situation' and my boss' church was having a shower for her because she literally had nothing for the baby, that is due in September. Luckily I took Lily with me, so between her 50 bathroom trips, our searches to find any cool toys in a house with grown kids and her frequent snack table trips, I managed to miss most of the "OoOo's" and "Awwwww's" of the pink clothes and cute cards. You know what would make baby showers better? beer. Anyway, I actually made it through the whole thing without one person asking when I was going to have another, may have been the best baby shower I've ever attended, I mean most of the people were well in their 70's and 80's but whatever, I can totally roll with some 70 year olds if it means they don't give a shit when or if I'm having more kids. They leave my vagina out of the conversation and think its funny when my kid announces that "barbie has a butt!" mid-present opening. I bet they'd love a nice hot tottie too, just sayin.

Yes, Lily grace, in fact, Barbie does have junk in the trunk.

oh, and I got my period yesterday. Sometimes I want to curb stomp my ovaries. And when I say sometimes I mean every time I get my period. However, this will be a good week. A little loud music, my little one and a wild berry parfait from Wendy's to commence to a new month, brushing off the last and to remember exactly what I'm fighting for. A three day weekend, a winery trip with some new friends and Lily Grace starting ballet on Thursday. The deck getting completed, pushing through the hard moments, breathing in the happy ones and living each day, exactly as it is. Ain't not period gonna rain on my parade, I tell you what.

a smattering of shit

Thank you, to:

The worst car luck ever, something is wrong with the ignition so it takes on average ten minutes to start my car, anytime I want to start it. This also causes stress induced sweating and cursing, its quite the sight I tell you what. It also prompts me more likely to just leave the bitch running, someone wants it? good luck getting it started after you park it sucker, its a technique that has to be mastered. Maybe at least then I can tell the insurance company that some son of a bitch thief messed with my ignition and I need a new one.

Lily, who always has to pee at the worst moment. As in, at the mall, in any store that isn't a department store with bathrooms. Who fakes with 'my back hurts' and can't walk, and as a parent fail, I forgot a stroller because I took my hub's car to avoid having to deal with mine. SO, with my 40 pound Bath & Body Works bag, my 30 pound three year old and my 10 pound purse, we trekked ever so eloquently, hot mess style through Sears to the very back corner of the store to the bathroom, where the littlest bit of pee you could ever pee, was expelled. Repeat back to the store with no bathrooms.

The slowest cashiers ever at Charlotte Russe for providing me with an extra ten minutes in their store sans fake back hurting three year old to stand and bob my head to 'make love in this club' while in the company of my sister in law and making fun of fat, old,  fat and old people trying to wear Charlotte Russe clothes.

The pregnant lady that was ever so eager to approach us to moisturize our hands with some random glorified lotion she would try to talk us into buying. hey, cute little preggo lady, why don't you just go rub the whole bottle on your glorious bump? I didn't feel bad saying "no thank you" and walking right by, nope not at all. I mean, if you can't see 'infertile' written all over my body language then you're in the wrong line of work, sister. Just kidding, sort of. I hope she has an ugly little alien fetus, which in fact, I would also be jealous of.

My husband who will quite literally starve to death if I don't provide meals. How dare I get back from shopping and spending time at my parents at 7:15 at night, without dinner. What? He had to stir up some meat in a pan for tacos after he'd been trimming hedges and making a landfill run all day? hi dear husband, how about the other 320 days of the year I cook dinner on a timely basis, yeah recognize that shit or its Cap'n crunch for the remainder of the year.

A letter on Monday afternoon from the insurance company stating that as of July 15th they no longer cover ANY services performed by Shady Grove Fertility clinic. Awesome, this means that the office visits, blood work and sonograms that we were actually covered for, are not covered anymore. This also means, we need to find a new clinic and the consult/original plan we had in place, is a bunch of meaningless shit now.

A pair of "GET SOME" panties from VS, that screamed at me as I walked by for me to buy them, I did however, refrain from doing so, thank you.

Wine. Beer. Shots. wine, beer & shots. These need no explanation other then they and my friends, keep me sane. Disclaimer: I am NOT an alcoholic

Other real-life moms, moms who admit, that on several occasions we have seen a beautiful pond just beyond a grassy knoll and contemplated driving right into. Real moms. If you can't admit to never wanting to drive your car of screaming kid(s) into the pond, you're not real. I mean we never really would, but at the time, its very appropriate and you're not fooling anyone by saying you having thought of doing it.

oh and my baby would be due Friday.



This is my mood right now, maybe from the coffee triple shot. Oh and I hope that cute little preggo's baby looks exactly like this.



horror stories & hustlers. oh, and my ovaries still suck

I am being suffocated by baby news on fb. It's like a friggin' horror movie and everywhere I turn there is Freddy Fuckin' Grueger's uterus, you know, if he had one. One is in labor right now, posting hourly vagina updates, two are due in a few weeks and seven others continually boast about their impending motherhood.  I haven't even been logging onto my favorite TTC website, I've become this bitter bitch who 'hides' anyone who is pregnant on fb, ignorance is bliss and I'm happy as a clam to not see someones uterus, cervix dilation update or 'my baby is a small grapefruit this week' tickers, unless you're one of my really good friends, then I just stalk the shit out of your uterus. I've been finding it hard to breathe in most of areas of life lately. I've got the full weight of work on my shoulders and I know my boss is stressed, she's running herself ragged taking care of her unhealthy husband but when is too much, too much? When I'm standing here in the office rocking back and forth telling people about cats I don't have? or when there is no possible way I can do an IUI because it doesn't 'fit' in the schedule? I'm trying my hardest to free the work weight from her shoulders and I'm doing a pretty damn good job but man are my knees getting weak with everything. We all have issues in life, we all have stress and burdens but we have to always know we're not the only ship in the ocean and we must always, forge ahead. If there is anything at all that I've learned over the past few weeks, work, life and TTC wise, its that you can spend the rest of your life worrying about the future and no amount of worry will change a thing. Live a day at a time and take it as it comes. The only way to get to tomorrow, is by living today.


Yep, googled "weight on shoulders pics" and got this. eff you, google. EFF YOU.


I had an amazing birthday weekend, I truly have some of the best friends and family and am lucky enough to be able to share all my special moments with them. We grilled out, sat around laughing at each other and sipped our beer. My parents took the little for the night so some of us could go out and continue the celebration without parental judgement. So needless to say, I spent Sunday sweating out the alcohol by the pool. We got home that evening and still had a few chores to do leftover from the party and get in bed by 9. I would have made it 7 if possible. I learned that I'm way to old to be stayin' out till 4:30am. We got a knock on the door at about 6, I was just cleaning up dishes and such so the hub answered it said he'd be back in a minute and left. I figured a neighbor just needed help with something, about 20 minutes later he comes back with said neighbor. I hadn't met this guy, he's about five houses down, came in, introduced himself, chatted non stop about everything and had a nice recliner for sale and the hub wanted me to look at it. Sure, I'm all for meeting new neighbors and being nosey and checking out the inside of their house so we walk over. He gave us the grand tour of his house, full of millions of dollars worth of furniture and customization, he claims he bought the house six months ago but I'm almost positive he's renting, and renting it as is, meaning none of the shit he was bragging about was actually his. We get to the theatre room where the chair is, its a nice massaging chair, leather, smells like smoke and gumbo but I'm not judging and I'm not tryin' to pay $125 for it. He sweet talks, compliments and gravels to get me to buy it.We're building a deck, I have no cash and I really just don't want the damn chair. I nicely try to tell him just that, but he kicks it into hustle mode, like a broke car salesman feindin for a signature on the dotted line. My hub, all the while feeding the guys habit, trying to be as nice as possible. I'm trying to read the hub, wondering if he really does want the chair but soon realize dude has other motives. "well, you could give me half the money now, half later? I could drive you to the bank to get cash? Could you just give me a loan then, anything will help me out. My wife and I are diabetic and we're really low on insulin and CVS is closing soon. We really need it" is this really happening? Had he caught me a few hours earlier my response would have been "look bitch, I'm hungover as shit, I don't like being hustled and since when did they start calling crack, insulin?" or "Sure, hop in the car, I'll grab the roofies before we leave so I can get butt raped while we're at it!" I really wasn't sure what to say, his motives turned from neighbor introducing himself inviting us over for drinks to crackhead so desperate for a hit he's knockin' on people's doors and begging for cash. I wasn't about to lend him a dime, he'll be like a stray cat after that and never leave. There were so many things wrong with the bigger picture, if this was his million dollar house, why was he so hurt up for cash? If you were a true diabetic, wouldn't you have at least some 'back up' insulin, shit heat some sugar up with a spoon and hit it, I'm sure he knows how to do that! Finally, we were able to get away only because the hub told him to ask our other neighbors, which he did, and they gave him $20 for his habit. Awesome. Swear to god if he comes near my house anymore I'm calling the cops and telling them he's hiding Mexicans in his basement.

Compromise, couponing & Corona's

I'm not big at couponing, I try, which usually means me cutting a few out of the Sunday paper and generally forgetting to use them when I go to the store, leaving them to expire by the time I actually remember I have them. I've never been big at finding the best deal on anything, but since moving into the bigger house I'm finding I need to be better, I need to try and save money where I can. I'm slowly trying to break into the whole couponing world and I'm finding 'the early bird gets the worm' is the motto. I went to Safeway for their weekly deals, granted I didn't go on 'opening' sale day but I figured I was stepping in the right direction by expanding my possibilities and going somewhere other than Wal-Mart for my shit. Apparently, couponing is a sport. For the love of everything holy, all I wanted were the .99 pantyliners, .99 toothpaste and the $4.50 pizza (which I did manage to get)  I mean I'm all for the couponers, but seriously? If I ever blog about my 'steals' of 50 boxes of tampons, 100 tubes of toothpaste and my trek all over town for .99 pantyliners, farm hand me. I was running late (surprise, right?) and didn't want to ask someone if there were more in back for fear of the poor unassuming cashier feeling the wrath of a hormonal infertile who got her period this month and can't find any god damn .99 pantyliners. This is what us humans do, we compete, for everything. We find a good deal, but want a better one. And when we do find a good deal, we take all that's left of it.  We're constantly on the look out for the next best thing. We are freaks. My husband has told me on occasion, you don't always get what you want. Life is compromise and sometimes, you have to let things go. Why is it so hard for us to be happy with just what we have? Like you won't be happy until you have every single .99 item the grocery store has but really once you get there and you do have it all, you'll still end up searching for more. You'll always want the next bigger thing, you always think that if you just had a little more, you'd be happy. Really though, you have to choose to be happy. You make the choice in the morning to wake up and be happy, happiness is not a destination, its a way of travel. You can choose to be jealous of the neighbor with the Audi, three kids and pool or you can be happy with your Saturn, only child and .99 pantyliners. For me, someone telling me I can't have something, only drives me. It adds fuel to the fire of life and makes me want to prove that I can, whatever I set my mind to, I do it. By standers can see a train wreck coming from a mile away but for some of us, we have to experience it, live it and learn from it before we can really understand it. Compromise, like anything, is hard. I have a hard time saying 'no' to anything. I take on too much, always. My plate is always full. I try not to bear my weight on anyone else's shoulders (unless its a quick venting sesh to clear my brain for the big stuff) and too many times I carry my own weight and then some. I don't even know if I'll be able to take on the IUI in September, mentally or physically. I've got a lot of my bosses weight on my shoulders and am feeling slightly overwhelmed with the pace of work already.  Its good to be challenged, to be aware of what you can handle and to gain experience in areas you can learn from. I think you learn a lot about yourself when you challenge yourself. If .99 items make you happy, then for the love of god go crazy and buy them all. I realize this post was a little all over the place, not even really sure what I was getting at, this is how my brain works and I didn't feel like tying things together so its a bit of a cluster of thoughts. I promise when I get back from vaca, I'll do better.

We're leaving for vacation Saturday, staying with my sister in law and her family who are stationed in Jacksonville, NC. I'm leaving work, infertility and worry behind. I'm replacing those things with beer, a beach chair and sunshine on my shoulders. There is something so soothing about the smell of coconut sunscreen, salty air and sand in your ass crack.

Un-planning, stiletto sprints & peacocks?

 Be crazy, just not send-her-to-the-looney-bin crazy. Have one or more, you know I don't judge more glass of wine. Say I love you too much, but only if you mean it. Hit the gym, then indulge in an 800 calorie milkshake which will in doubt, bring all the boys to the yard. Buy that purse or cute shoes in my case that you've been wanting, you deserve it. Rock those four-inch stilettos that you know you can't walk in but look damn good doing it. Life's little moments are what mean the most, I spend so much time in the 'what if' or trying to 'plan' things that sometimes I forget that the best things that happen in my life, aren't planned at all. When I met my husband, I wasn't looking for forever, I was looking for right now. When I fell into my job which was a 'foot in the door' to the business world, a step up from wiping asses of a class full of three year old's and I'll be here eight years come November. My first house, it was when the housing market was in full boom, there were four contracts on the townhouse in six hours. My hub was out four-wheeling, I went in, fell in love with the house and signed the papers  yeah, he's still mad about that one and they picked me, it ended up being one of the most un-planned yet best choices I've made. Lily Grace, while I had pretty much lost hope that it was going to happen naturally, the month after a simple procedure, the month that we went on vacation and infertility was the last thing on my mind, the month I realized that my cycle was actually a few days late, that was the month I got to see those two pink lines, even though the fact that we were 'trying' wasn't a surprise or unplanned, actually getting pregnant, was. I'm learning, learning to let things go unplanned because some of the best things are impromptu pot luck dinners at the park with friends, a trip to the playground after work while rockin' said stilettos, scarfing down cereal for dinner so you can spend 30 extra minutes at the pool and how the smell of the grill will always bring friends or family over.

I've been boss at work all week since her husband is having surgery and its good because it gives me a taste of what its potentially going to be like in a few years, I need these weeks where I have to do things I wouldn't normally do, work later than usual and handle things that are a little out of my comfort zone. I need to be put in this position so I know what I'm in for and if I even like this role which aside from the whole being responsible for 40 clients finances, I like. It does however, make for a long day. We're the only two in the office so when she's not here and I don't see any clients all day, I get loopy. I can only sing the chorus to "Rolling in the Deep" into my phone so many times before it bores me and heaven forbid some unsuspecting client call the office, shit you not I keep them on the phone abnormally long telling them my life story because all I've been doing all day is inputting numbers, texting, eating 100 calorie snacks because it makes me feel like less of a fat ass and doing my best Adele rendition. Wednesdays are nice, that's delivery of the payroll day, people are always glad to see you. I don't generally do deliveries so when I get to, its nice. I get a wawa sub for lunch, stop by Yankee Candle and mingle with clients, I totally make a day out of it. There is one place in particular the we deliver to that has a pet peacock, or a peahen rather, since its a girl. btw who has them as pets?really? I'm terrified of it, its big has glorious colorful feathers and it scares me to death. I hate even getting out of my car, I know its lurking and I know its intrigued by my being there. It really is a sight, my full on stiletto sprint from the car to the porch back to the car. One time I swear we had a stand off, that son of a bitch was exactly where I needed to be to pick up a folder, it was like a death stare and whoever looked away first lost. I lost, I know they say to never stare into the eye of a gorilla and I didn't want to find out if it's the same protocol for a peahen. It finally meandered back to its grounds and I was able to dart to the porch and back. I should get hazardous pay for this shit. You see, this is what happens when I'm alone all week, I do however promise that the peahen was an actual encounter and not just hallucinations of a crazy bookkeeper. Just another reminder that unplanned deliveries and peahen encounters only add to the little moments of life, the moments that make you laugh and the moments that make you go home and enjoy that well deserved glass of wine. because your encounter was THAT terrifying ;)

Scary, right?

Happy weekend friends!

greener grass

Advice. You go looking for it, you read books or articles in Cosmo, you seek friends wisdom, you ask for 'signs' and you search within yourself for the answer to which you're seeking. But the truth is, even when you've gathered all the facts, you've done your deepest soul searching and you know what you should do, you still can't bring yourself to accept it. The grass is always greener on the other side. Every decision has a consequence, every right has a wrong and part of going for what you want, means losing something else.  Life isn't black and white, it's not pass or fail, there is so much 'grey area' to life. I think no matter what 'answer' you find, it will never be good enough, it will never be what you want to hear. It takes work to be better than the rest, to be content with your heat-worn, dried out brown grass and to be a better you. You're always going to question whether or not you made the 'right' choice, big or small, you'll always wonder 'what if' you went with the other choice, how different might things be. You can't sweat your choices, especially after they are made, the word spoken or rock thrown can't be taken back. You have to be confident in your choice and have faith that where you're at, is exactly where you're supposed to be. You can't out run your choices and life always makes more. Whatever is may be, exercise, a new car, a baby or a really cute pair of shoes. Be confident in yourself. I'm not going to make my choice, I'm going to let it make me.

This morning could not be any more beautiful, its a front porch sittin', coffee drinkin', taking in the sweet honeysuckle breeze morning wish I could do just that, Instead I'm tackling the day with said coffee, computer screen and an office phone that won't stop ringing, grass is always greener eh? We spent most of the weekend at the pool and when we weren't at the pool, we were bumming food off of family. If you know me, you know I'll do ANYTHING to not have to cook, don't get me wrong, I don't mind cooking, I cook 5 days out of the week generally but if I can keep from it, I do. I'll drive hours to not have to cook. I'm not one of those, "invite but probably won't come" people, if you invite me for food, I will be there. We went to my sister in laws new place Saturday for a cookout, a friend and her husband had just gotten back from a two week Mediterranean cruise must be nice right? and brought a bottle of wine and not your ordinary sip till it feels good wine, there was a picture of a volcano on the bottle. We get the idea to do shots of volcanic ash act like you didn't know that was coming It literally felt as if I had ingested a shot of hot sauce, followed by a dash of flame. WHY would they even make this stuff, better yet WHY would anyone drink it? I, myself have never had heartburn but I'm sure it was just like that, like a person with heartburn, downing a plate of Mexican food sans fork. I'm pretty sure I breathed fire the rest of the night, dragon style. This same couple just started trying for a baby, as in, just took her last 'sugar' birth control pill. Their motto, "instead of practice makes perfect, practice makes baby" I remember what it felt like, the first month of officially 'trying' and all the excitement and how naive you are to think you would never have problems, I miss that. I miss the innocence of 'practice makes baby'. This is also a couple who probably shouldn't procreate, I've never met two people who are more stuck on themselves in all my life. I know, who am I to judge who should procreate, right? Whatever, I'm allowed to bitter, I'm sure her glorious pearls of eggs are anxiously awaiting sperm with baklava and a glass of wine that's how this couple rolls.  I swear to god if in 28 days she announces her pregnancy, the dragon within me will commence.

Appropriate. Beautiful. Enjoy.

fixing all the problems in my own head

Rehearsal dinner, bagged and eaten at 9:00 pm check. Viewing and funeral services, check. Beautiful wedding & reception, check. Anniversary dinner, KFC because that's what the little wanted check. Sunflower favors, fail. I said it, FAIL. What once were glorious sprouting darlings representing new life and growth turned into wilted stems lookin' more like a graveyard representing sorrow and death, not exactly the kind of idea you were having for a freaking wedding! Luckily, a few fake sunflowers transformed my graveyard of favors into the happy, sun-shiney look we were going for. What a weekend it was. My flower girl rocked her roll in the wedding did we ever think she wouldn't shine in the spotlight? That girl makes me proud in more ways than I knew I could ever be. She also happens to be, the life of the party. Have you ever seen a three year old standing in front of a speaker dancing her heart out and singing every single word to "Bow chicka wow wow"? its pure joy. Hand motions, facial expressions and plain ol' gettin' down with her bad self. She is going places in life, she has so much determination and drive. She's not going to take 'no' for an answer, she's going to set a goal and accomplish it, I just know it. I'm proud of the family and friends that have been through so much this year and that we can pull together and be there for each other in the best and worst of times. I'm proud of my brother, his road, much like mine has been anything but easy but he's accomplished so much. I'm proud of my husband, for sticking by me, even when my wild side gets the better of me. I got a reality check, a new sister and extended family and another year under my belt of marriage this weekend. A tough weekend but also some of the most defining moments of our life.

Photography by one of my best friends, find her on facebook. (MJ Photography)

We've been 'trying without overthinking' and clearly, my ovaries haven't been doing their part in welcoming sperm with lemonade and cake squares. My chart has been 'funny' for lack of a better word because I was thinking more along the lines of fucked up for the last two months. I've had really short leutal phases, not sure what its all about or if I've even really ovulated so I'm not going to over think, I'm not going to do it. I'm enjoying summer. I'm not over thinking my chart or my needy uterus this summer. I'm going to enjoy margaritas on the deck, enjoy sweating out a hangover by the pool. I'm going to enjoy doing everything with Lily that we possibly can because just maybe, this will be her last summer as an only child. I'm going to keep running, I'm going to take time to bake with my girl and I'm going to be a better wife. I'm not going to over think anything the next couple of months because I know come September I will have to over think everything. I'm going to put my brain on reserve and live life. I wonder if that's what its like to be high? Just lettin' your brain chill. I have no desire to ever find out cause I'm not tryin to be all TV starin', snack muchin', brain cell dyin'. Natural high, high on life. Cheesy, right? Maybe its the caffeine buzz from my bakery cup o' coffee or maybe it's the new shoes I bought for the wedding that I told my husband I was going to return, which by the way, I never had any intention of returning, I'm madly in love with them. Maybe its the view I got in the rear view mirror this morning or the squeals of the little running through the sprinkler last night. Maybe, just maybe I'll swing by Chick Fil A on the way home for a much deserved milkshake. A milkshake high, I'm down for that. Faith is a funny thing, it turns up when you least expect it. Its not so important happy ever after, its just happy right now. Its about living in the moment and appreciating what you have for what it is.


Nope, not taking them back. Not going to do it.

mine field

You know what I miss? My old gynecologist. He was just an gyno, no OB so I had to switch when I got pregnant with Lily but I miss how personable he was and possibly I miss his waiting room the most. The quiet lull of the fish tank, the receptionist that you could faintly hear on the other side of the glass, Home & Garden magazines and a small office with no one eyeing your belly for a bump. Fast forward to today. My current ob/gyn, ever heard the phrase "herding turtles"? yeah, I'm just a number in a long line of preggo's at this place. The waiting room is always full of parenting and baby magazines, preggo's and new moms waiting for their 6 week 'can we have sex now' check up with newbies in tow. Its like a mine field for an infertile, no matter where you look or step, there is something baby related that makes your eyes well up. I love my DR but he happens to be so ADD it isn't even funny. In the same stretch of breath he asked me what was wrong, read my memorial bracelet and asked why I have a pair of jeans in my purse. They are for Lily btw, my purse doubles as a diaper bag, clearly doc. I've also been to the office enough times for the nurses to know me on a first name basis and ask me if I feel like the office is my second home but my DR can NEVER remember my situation. I mean, I don't expect him to know everything but seriously? Am I on birth control? Are we trying? And also the fact that the surgery he did in '09 on me is one of only like 3 he does a year. Welcome to the get a clue corp. doc, leave a message. I know he delivers thousands of babies and sees countless vagina's a day but can you once remember one little detail of my existence, that I'm DESPERATELY trying to be pregnant. My original appointment was scheduled for June 2nd so since I was in here for something unrelated I knocked out two birds with one stone or rather two bills with one stone and asked him about the scar tissue and possible D&C, that the hub's doctor mentioned when he went in for his s/a. Long story short, I would be having painful periods along with painful cramping if scar tissue were the case, so, still no answers. Big surprise, right? My crappy withered cervix won't even allow ONE of 75 million proud, eager sperm to enter her fortress. What a bitch.

another day, another pregnancy announcement

I love Monday pregnancy announcements, it really sets the tone for my whole week! This one in particular makes me feel, infertile. She and I were pregnant with our firsts together and since then she has had one more and is now due in October, she will have perfected her family of three before I can even get pregnant with my second. It's days like these when my infertility adventure really sucks. Its all part of 'the plan' right? fate? get at me, fate. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of being the strong friend, I want to be the pregnant friend.

Normally I'm flooded with weekly chores as soon as my high heels turn into bare feet when I arrive home from work. On this particular day, I went up to change into my running clothes my two little ducks following close behind, mind you, sorted laundry, made the bed and the three of us ended up lying on it. At that moment we all were reminded all we needed in this world, was right there on that bed. The hub turned to me saying "I love our little family" I smiled back and he says "we need like three more of them" glancing over at Lily concentrating hard while putting on said high heels. "I need a boy to help me do yard work when I'm old, we need more so they come visit us when we're old" we followed the heart warming conversation with "well, the way things are going we'll have one and we'll bug the SHIT out of her all the time since she's the only and she'll never come see us!" But he's right, our lives completely revolve around a three foot, twenty-eight pound pixie. Our lives forever, will be about her. Since the moment I found out I was pregnant, I stopped thinking of myself first, since she was the size of a poppy seed in my uterus, she's been my world. We want to watch more of our children grow and develop and inherit our traits. We want our children to come over for Sunday dinners, even if its cold by the time we eat because we're chasing grandchildren. We want to go to plays and recitals, footballs games and have so many activities going on that we barely have time to breathe. We need more kids.

I caught a commercial for a show on TLC called "Taboo", in a nutshell its a show about crazies who have weird (taboo) "addictions" or ways of life. The very first show on the upcoming season is of a lady who carries around a baby (like the life-like crying babies you get in Childhood education in school). She takes care of it literally like it is a live baby, it stays with her parents occasionally, she carries it from store to store in its car seat, she bathes it, burps it holy shit, this lady is CRAZY but then I got it. She can't have kids, she's a me. She's a crazy infertile like me, this is what infertility adventures do to you, make you carry around pretend babies because that's the closest your going to get to having one. She needs a baby so bad that she caters to a fake baby just to have that feeling at all. SO I get this lady's struggle. A lady.with a fake baby. I'm pretty sure on some level this makes me some kind of crazy but like I said, infertility and crazy go hand in hand. Her choice of dealing with infertility is carrying around a fake baby, my choice of dealing with it is by carrying around a Bud Light. To each their own.

Happy Monday!