1. It has been raining steadily and heavily since dawn. We’ve probably received at least 3” of rain. There’s a puddle in the basement that’s not rising at an alarming rate, and the sump pump is working fine, but I’m irritated that there’s yet another leak we didn’t find. And according to Hubby, the water just flowed on into the basement like someone popped a zit and burst the dam.

2. Fukui is yodeling in the kitchen like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, and it’s still a half hour until dinner time. He sounds like he’s dying.

3. It’s cold and wet and will be until Tuesday.

4. It’s April, it’s 40 degrees, and we’ll probably still have the furnace running through June 28th.

Things that are making me laugh:

1. Freebird is working on learning the alphabet, though he can identify a good number of letters already. He just walked up to Hubby with a cut out E and R, to which Hubby said:

“Yes! ER used to be a very good show, and Mommy and I liked it very much. Then it got stupid and some guy got his arm sawed off by a helicopter, and then that helicopter came back a year or two later and ate him, and that’s when it got really really stupid.”

2. I have chocolate chip cookies to eat in the pantry. I can eat them whenever I want. I might have one now.

3. I am warm, inside, and do not have to go outside right now. Also, my feet are dry.

4. The Bird is in a good mood, and wants to play with his letters and numbers, which is a really fun activity. TWO! THREE! SIX! YAAAAY!

5. We went to an indoor playground this morning, where the Bird exhausted himself. If I had to describe it, I’d say it’s like Gymboree, only with a Jersey Perm and stonewashed jeans. A little lower in style but very very fun for him. And a row of rocking chairs for the parents, AND free wifi! 

I have a friend who is an ubermom, in that she works more-than-full-time, and commutes the same distance I do, and also says things like, “And I made lentil stew for the girls yesterday, and with brown rice that’s a complete protein! They loved it!”

This conversation happened about an hour after Hubby and I went to Costco and bought, among other things, a 5lb. bag of chicken nuggets (also, for the record, a protein) for the Bird. The Bird’s dinner has never included lentil stew, though he is a huge fan of PB&J, and will rock in his highchair screeching should he see the Earth’s Best cheese crackers shaped like Elmo and Big Bird’s craniums - prompting our nickname for them: Elmo Heads.

Now, normally I’m a live-and-let-live kind of girl, and what other moms do doesn’t really bother me because no one lives the exact same life I do, and so my choices are made based on what is best for my family. So far, everyone here is happy and healthy and has no complaints. The Bird definitely likes those chicken nuggets.

But for some reason that conversation has really stuck with me, and I’m wondering what more I could do to make sure the Bird gets a diet made up of foods I prepare. So far he hasn’t liked the leftovers of what I make for dinner, and chows down with hearty enjoyment on what we do serve him (though he’s totally turned off by the hotdogs right now).

Could I make lentil stew and other crock pot dishes if I wanted? Sure. Do I want to? Frankly, no. I don’t. I get X number of hours on the weekend to hang out with him, and Y number of hours in the evenings to relax before bed, and I don’t want to subtract any time from X or Y by standing in the kitchen chopping and mixing in the kitchen when I could be hanging out with him. If I were home full time, maybe. If he were older and had a later bedtime, so that I had more time between the moment we get home and the moment he goes to bed, maybe. If I weren’t pregnant and still tired (and hello, it’s the 2nd trimester and I’m looking forward to that return of energy… hellooo? Energy? Where you at?!) and in love with the concept of curling up on the sofa, maybe.

I’m frankly surprised at myself that I’ve fallen into a compare-myself-to-ubermom mode. Usually I’m very much able to brush off those feelings and say, “Ok, great that it works for her, but that wouldn’t work for me.” Lately I’m remeasuring everything I do, and running into feelings of guilt for not wanting to surrender any of the time I have to relax and hang out with the Bird or with Hubby or even just with myself in order to concoct perfect proteins in the slow cooker.

Somehow, though, I think it’s more important that I work on those feelings of guilt about choosing myself sometimes than it is that I start chopping an onion to craft those perfect proteins. Proteins aside, so far we’re doing just fine. I have to remind myself that Hubby, Freebird, and I are all happy. And that’s perfect enough.

Can someone explain to me why most of the maternity tops I find have necklines so low I think my boobs are liable to fall out? Is there some odd expectation that every pregnant woman wants to show off her bodacious (bigger) ta-tas? I have on a new top that I ordered on clearance, and I’m putting it through a one-day test on a weekend to see if I can wear it to work without showing too much cleavage. From my angle, looking down, I think 3/4 of my breasts are showing.

I’m going to go tell Hubby that his job today is to monitor the cleavage, and tell me if I show “too much for work.” I wonder if he’ll mind.

And I wonder if there’s a manufacturer of maternity top fichus I could find.

Prooving yet again how much the Rutgers basketball team and their coach, Vivian Stringer, rock the tri-state area: “These comments are indicative of greater ills in our culture. It is not just Mr. Imus. And we hope that this will be and serve as a catalyst for change.”

my site is three days old and I have...Friday Referrals?! But of Course!

I better mention Clitorious a few times (Clitorious! Clitorious! Clitorrrrrious!) before she gets her feelings hurt.

Better Clear your calendar: Yup. It’s a long freaking swim to London, is all I’m saying.

more gooder: Many things are more gooder, but specifically when more people than I expect are watching PBS such that they all log in to make microloans to impoverished people around the globe, all at the same time? Way more gooder than I thought. 

Me, standing under shower: “Not awake. Can I sleep standing up? The hot water will run out. But I could go back to sleep right here.”
*silence*
Me, standing under shower: “I do not want to be awake. Maybe I can sleep some more. I am not happy to be awake.”
Hubby, holding up glass of OJ: “I brought you some orange juice. It’ll be on your dresser.”
Me, dancing in place: “OH HAPPY DAY! OOOOH HAPPY DAY!”

---

Wednesday, the new phone I bought off of eBay arrived. I had bought it used, figuring that if I hated it, I could wipe it clean and sell it again.

The device arrived, and hello. There was a passcode on the unit that didn’t allow me to get into the phone, much less put my data on it. There was also an Amazon.com receipt IN THE BOX that had the old owner’s name, address, and work address on it, so using that info, I tried to track dude down.

Ultimately, I had the phone dial an “emergency call” and wrote down the number it was dialing from, then called that number. Dude answered.

Me: “Hi. I bought your phone off eBay, and it’s passcoded. Can I have your passcode?”
Dude: “Oh, dude. Sorry. Try “abcdefg.”
Me: “Yup, that worked. Uh oh. Sir? All your data is still on this phone.”
Dude: “I FORGOT TO WIPE IT CLEAN?!”
Me: “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m going to whack and reload the OS now. No worries. I’ll clean it off.”
Dude: “Oh, thank you so much.”

So of course, I notice he has a LOT of contacts in the address book and, since I have his real name I google him.

He works in IT for a major investment & finance firm in Manhattan. Dude. That was DUMB. I had the entire address book for the investment firm, plus passcodes and email and crap. Seriously. Wanna know what exec lost his laptop? I can hook you up with that bit of knowledge.

Ever wonder how financial data gets lost? This would be how. But thanks to my ethical scruples and desire to have my own data on the phone, I wiped the phone’s memory clean and restored it to factory default.

Poor dude. I’m sure he’s wondering if I’m going to call his barber and cancel his appointments.

Hubby was sitting next to me while I tracked dude down, which took over an hour of searching and fighting with the phone and my laptop, but by the time I got the situation resolved, he was rather impressed.

Hubby: “Dude. Wow.”
Me: “Yes! I am unstoppable! I am TENACIOUS! And also, D!”

---

More adventures with Dude From IT: I had to call our cell phone provider, who then transferred me to the manufacturer of the phone, only to find out that the reason I couldn’t configure my device was because D.F.I? Forgot to unlink his email from the phone - ergo in my phone I had allll his email, including bank statements, email from friends, etc. Wow. I’m so flabbergasted, I’m in hysterics.

However, that said? I am loving this new phone. Texas Hold ‘Em? WORD UP!

Just for fun, check this out:

1. Go to http://www.google.com

2. Click on “maps”

3. Click on “get directions”

4. Type “ New York “ in the first box (the “from” box)

5. Type “ London “ in the second box (the “to” box) (or any city in Europe);
click “get directions”

6. Scroll down to step #23