some people's children...

I like the fact that I come from a small town. I like that my parents still live there and that I can escape the ridiculousness of city life and "go back to my roots", so to speak.

I think that growing up in a small town an create this inate sense of trust in people. Maybe I'm alone in that thought...but I trust people. I take what people have to say at face value, and trust that they are being honest. With that said, I have been called gullible on numerous occasions, at times, looking somewhat like a fool for this unquestioning trust.

What really gets me though, is so called "scam artists". I don't fall for the random phone calls of " airhorn... Congratulations! You have one a free cruise! Just press 1, give us your credit card number, sign your life away and BAM!" Those I am clever enough to clue into. However, today at work, a lady called. She had a good story...

Lady on phone: "Hi, we're from the credit card machine company (my first clue should have been the fact that she did not use the actual name of the credit card machine). I was just wondering if everything is still working properly, if you have enough of the paper rolls, etc., etc."

Me: "Yes, everything is working fine, thanks for asking!" (all too trusting, thinking this lady sure is sweet, and a good business lady to be calling clients to check on things...)

Lady on phone: "Well, I wanted to let you know that the price of the paper rolls will be increasing and that we've set aside 2 boxes at the old price for you to order" (wow, she seems nice...very thoughtful...)

Me: "Okay..."

Lady on phone: "Now I just need to verify your address, are you still on Corydon Ave? (she gave the full Corydon address, I probably would have been a little more skeptical had she had NO information on this office)

Me: "No, we've moved. this is the new address."

Lady on phone: "Perfect, now should I send this attention to you? Are you the office manager?"

Me: "No, I'm not. You'll have to send it to the Dr."

Lady on phone: "Oh, ok, so you can't authorize this transaction?"

Me: "No. I'll get you on the line with the Dr."

Lady on phone: "Great, thank you!"

**** lady on hold ****

So, I stroll to the back, tell the Dr. the phone is for him, someone needing authorization for ordering paper rolls for the credit card machine, all the while, unassuming that this lady is a scam artist. I quickly realized this when the Dr. went on about how it's a con, and he had fallen for it before and so on, and just to go tell her that he's not interested and all that...

So, I head back to the phone, to tell this lady that he's not interested to find that she's hung up. Surprise, surprise...some people's children I tell ya...

At any rate, I'm way too trusting of people...I wouldn't be surprised if before I die, I buy paper rolls at a "great price" and go on a "free cruise"...

some days are good days.

others are stomp down the stairs, slam the door kind of days.

finally...

I think I have finally reached the place where I am comfortable with my "changing" body. I know it sounds shallow, but I was not comfortable AT ALL with my weight gain. Finally though, you can actually see that I have a baby bump. In the words of my sister-in-law, I've "popped". That sounds a little more aggressive than it is. Essentitally, the baby bump is quite evident. As is the protruding belly button...

I realized today just how ok I am with it all as I was sitting at my desk at work, clearly working hard, watching my belly. No, it doesn't grow at that kind of incredible pace, but I could actually see the baby moving inside. Everynow and then, I'd feel a swift quick to the abs, and see my stomach bulge out a little bit. Kind of a crazy thing to see, but kind of cool too! The quicks are getting stronger and stronger each day.

It's hard to believe that I am more than half way, 25 weeks now, or for those who aren't too quick with math, just about 6 1/2 months. 15 weeks to go. I haven't been feeling the pressure to get everything ready yet...although, I am going to buy a stroller soon with the money from my grandma! WHOO HOO! But as for now, the baby room is the "we have no other place for this crap" room from when we moved. It kinda looks like a baby room, because it does have a cradle in it...

Anyways, I'm in a really happy place now:

* I'm only going to be pregnant for 15 or so more weeks
* My "fat" tummy actually looks like a baby bump
* My baby is healthy and quite active
* My husband is quite tolerant with my pregnancy related antics

Life is good.

ummm...uhhh...excuse ma'am, but i don't think you can do that...

I was on my lunch break, heading down to the church to visit my hubby, when I happened to casually glance to my right. Nothing unusual, just a bus stop, the regular kind, 4 glass walls with an entrance, a bench, ya know, the usual. Yeah. Insert double take: woman, squatting and finishing up her "business", then carrying on as nothing had happened in the enclosed space...

9 months later...

I was reading past blogs I wrote today and stumbled across one from last summer that mentioned something along the lines of being grateful for having a job where I can hang out with kids all day, playing games, making crafts and what not, and how I really couldn't see myself in the "real world", ya know, like in an office.

So, here I am, 9 months later, working in an office. And, no surprise, I can't stand it. I dread going to work everyday. I try to be positive, try to look at the bright side of it all, but in all honesty, I get paid to play spider solitaire and hearts all day. I know, you may be thinking, "Just quit...", and I would, BELIEVE ME, but if I want to collect EI come baby time, I'm stuck. So, the upside, there is an end in sight.

I wish that I could nanny again this summer. It would be such a nice change, and I think I would have a new found appreciation for it. Going to the park, swimming, Starbucks coffee dates; it'd be fun.

Come September, I'll get to hang out with my own kid...

Oh she's pms-ing alright...

So, I'm sitting in my home, faceblogging and the sort when all of a sudden, I hear some ridiculous yelling.
Me, being nosy, start peering (ever so cautiously) through my horizontal blinds, one strip at a time, trying to see where this "noise" is coming from. Turns out there is a crazy lady on the street. I don't know if she maybe thought she wasn't in a residential area, or perhaps wasn't aware of the actual volume her voice was reaching...but none the less, there she was, smoking, yelling and pacing the sidewalk in front of my house.
A man (seemingly calmer), was following her, speaking to her, I'm assuming trying to calm her down. I can assume that he was not helping the situation, because after he spoke (I couldn't hear him), she would turn around, start yelling again, just as he would reach up and start rubbing his temples. Poor guy.
Now in case the world hadn't already guessed it...from the crazy lady, and I quote:

"I'M (insert profanity) PMS-ING! DON'T YOU KNOW???"

I think we all know...

for mike...who seriously thinks it's time for a new post...

I've gotta say, I'm tired of winter and being cold. Maybe I'm realizing it more so this year, because my mom is in the Dominican Republic, and has been the past week and a half, and will be for another week and a half, my dad is heading there to be with her next week, my in-laws are somewhere in the south...Florida? My husband is going to Haiti next weekend...I was supposed to go, but apparently that is strongly discouraged if your prego-pops.

I long for summer...for hot days, for the smell of fresh cut grass, for laying on a deck by a pool, for long walks in the evening, for campfires, for fresh cut lilacs, for gelati and slurpees, for beach days, for driving with the windows down...

All I ever want to do in the winter is hibernate. My old neighbour used to tease me whenever he saw me outside in the winter...In all honesty, I think I have the right idea of staying inside with windchills of -45, and those who think it's possible to "enjoy" that nonsense...they are just trying to be heros. I don't need to be a hero. I need to be warm.

Maybe it would be a little better if the heat that the landlord paid for, was actually heat...not luke-warm air coming from one vent.

So this post kinda turned into a venting session about something that I have no control over, and can't do anything about...

I suppose it's a good thing I'm prego, extra pounds=extra warmth....