I’m sitting on the balcony, enjoying the ocean breeze, on my laptop watching the planes fly by. I’ve had half a pizza (It was 9pm by the time we ate so we were HunGRY), and some water and it’s a perfect, quiet night. Ahhhhhh. 

Fun things about being married to Hubby and installing his Expression Engine upgrade:

I get to say things like “I’ve been in and out of your back end six times in three minutes, and everything is fine.”

It’s even better when he says, “I can’t get in my back end! I get a 404!”

That is definitely something you don’t want - a 404 in your back end. Yeouch.

Still slim pickins since I went and moved house BUT we have a stellar moment here, folks:

clitorious: My first clitorious search! If you’re just joining us, or wondering how to spell CLITORIS (Jesus Flapjack, people), Clitorious is the female superhero who fights for our rights in her satin tights, and absolutely hates to have her picture taken. So you won’t be getting clitorious pictures any time soon.

front yard yellow brick: You planning on using Google:Maps street view to find my house? Jeez. I do have a yellow brick road in my front yard, and a scarecrow that Hubby thinks is the ugliest thing ever. Currently the Scottie dog iron door stop that is representative of Toto, and the incredibly chic and somewhat metrosexual lion statue that I designated as the Lion are in the house, and have to be put out in the yard. But I can’t lift the lion’s box out of the packing materials, and I can’t lift the Scottie dog in the least, so they’re not by the yellow brick road yet. I’m working on it, much like the Cubs. 

Hubby and I are both sleep deprived thanks to a new fun and exciting phase of Freebird’s, wherein he wakes up around midnight and screams his little heart out until we come into his room. All he wants is to be held. NOT in the crib. Held. By sleepy parents who would much rather be lying down sleeping. Two nights ago I walked in to relieve Hubby and Freebird was gnawing on the crib rail. Seriously. Gnaw gnaw gnaw. Ergo, I suspect teething. Or maybe a fun new behavior phase to enjoy for awhile.

As for our weekend, our sleep deprivation has caused a whole reorganization of our schedule. Last night Hubby ordered our groceries online to be delivered this evening, sparing us a 2 hour trip to the store over the weekend. The thing about ordering online is that it doesn’t take that much less time than you would spend in the store itself. It takes about an hour to navigate to everything you want, decide on quantity, think of everything you might also need, go check the pantry to see if you do indeed need that item (a major benefit to being home and shopping - you can check immediately if you think you might have another jar of pasta sauce or whatever), and then check out and pick a delivery time. The prices aren’t necessarily cheaper - it was more expensive for Freebird’s Lactaid, for example - but it spares us the drive to the store, the drive home, and the unloading. And our groceries arrive at 7 or 8pm and all we have to do is put them away. It’s very handy - I personally love it. Hubby struggles with the idea that he can’t pick out what he wants, that the prices are slightly better at other stores for certain items, and that it’s not as quick as ordering things on Amazon. Of course, I order cases of diapers from Amazon that arrive next day and that takes me less than 45 seconds start to finish.

Freeing up the grocery trip allows us more time for fun & chores, though - and boy do we have chores, the kind that can only be performed at the point of sale. I can’t shop online for Freebird’s much-needed haircut, or for new shoes for the wee dude feet. So we’ll run around like crazy people tomorrow, outfitting the dude head to toe (literally). Usually we get up early, go to the haircut place at 8am (when they open) and then go across the street for breakfast. We’re so tired, all three of us, that we’ll sleep in as much as possible, and then go do our chores.

If the haircut place is too crowded, we’ll probably skip it, and I’ll be very very tempted to cut Freebird’s hair myself. Between you and me, the thought of a Flowbee and where I might get one totally crossed my uncaffeinated mind this morning. With caffeine, I hope I will know better. 

...to Wiggle!

That’s right, we’re taking Freebird to see his obsession, the four gyrating Australians in the Wiggly party. It’s the three guys and the Faux Wiggle, but still, I am betting that once he hears the music his eyes will bug out and there will be much boogeying.

So get ready… to Wiggle! 

Dear Democratic National Committee:

Most of the time, I agree with your general politics and vote for your candidates. However, if you insist on calling me every evening around 7:00 pm to telemarket me for more money, I assure you, I will vote Republican in every election from now until the day I shuffle off this political plane. Am I being clear? I don’t even give you the money! Hubby does! I give to candidates in races against Bill Napoli, and that’s about it.

DNC no longer stands for “Democratic National Committee,” it now stands for “Do Not Call.” As in, Do Not Call Me. The more you harass me, the less likely I am to vote for any of your candidates. Got it?

Thanks,

Morag

10 Interesting Things you Didn’t Know about Me. Apparently I’m supposed to talk about myself. Hello Boring! Come on in and sit for many hours!

10. I am obsessive about having pedicures, despite having the most calloused feet known to man. I danced for 15 years and I could walk on hot coals and not feel a thing. But my toenails are very pretty.

9. I am currently trying to figure out the best way to organize the family with one central calendar. I used to “make” them using a template from Creative Memories, but I don’t have the time to take the paper out and put stickers on it and yadda yadda but I miss having the view of the whole month. My Blackberry calendar is not cutting it, because it is so freaking small.

8. Perhaps it is time for me to admit that I need a paper calendar. I know. Shocking. But possibly true. I miss that month-at-a-time glance that isn’t possible with a teeny tiny screen.

7. Although I am often uncomfortable, especially when it’s 90+ degrees out, being pregnant is without question the state of greatest and most perfect health I can attain. Everything that affects me when I’m not pregnant, major to minor, is gone when I’m gestating.

6. I cannot believe I am as big as I am and will still get bigger before my due date.

5. I am the most tired when I am farthest from my bed. I am the most awake when I finally get IN my bed.

4. It is harder and harder to keep to my news fast. Have you noticed that there are news headlines everywhere? They’re ubiquitous and difficult to avoid.

3. I love storms if I’m inside to watch. Snow storms, thunderstorms, big hyperactive rain storms - I love watching them. IF I’m dry!

2. I think the US should institute a national naptime, much like Spain has siesta. But the US is made up of workaholics, leading me to believe that I either need to work for myself and have naptime, or that we need to magically move to Spain so we can have a nap.

1. It is really hard to come up with 10 things about myself because I am (a) boring, (b) tired, and (c) utterly, utterly uninteresting.