The Story of Baby Jo(e)

So, for any of you who don't follow me on facebook I'm going to let you in on a little secret: Curious George and I are going to have a baby. I'm almost 11 weeks, so I figured it was time to let the cat out of the bag. Plus, it was getting pretty hard to hide it with how sick I've been. And I mean SICK!
We're super excited (how could we not be, it's a BABY!). As of right now I'm due January 16th, which means if Baby Jo(e) comes early or ontime I'll be 25 when he/she is born. If Baby Jo(e) is even the tiniest bit late I'll be 26, since my birthday is January 17th.
In case you hadn't figured it out, we're calling it Baby Jo(e) for now, because we like Androgeny Jo(e) better than Androgeny Pat. It's more modern, or something.
Anyway, because the baby is due in January, I've been labeled the newest disobedient child in my parents home. My dad made one request: that I wait until he was 50 to make him a grandparent. Well, sorry Pops, it's going to be a few months early. Come on, this is Utah, nobody waits until they're 50 to be a grandparent!
So, there you have it, the newest update in my life. I'm going to try and keep this from becoming a purely pregnancy blog, but since that's about the only thing changing you'll probably get a lot of Baby Jo(e) stories.

Fiasco

I'm not easily angered. I'll get annoyed, bugged, or a little testy from time to time, but to really get me MAD it takes some work (or you just have to know how to push my buttons). Well, this week, I got MAD. To the point that I yelled at someone.
Now, I'll admit, it started with me doing a dumb thing. I take full ownership of that. Who made a dumb-shark move? Oh yeah, that'd be me, over here. That being said, my glimmer of idiocy is but a drop in the bucket. What is this dumb thing I did, let me tell you, so you can think I'm an idiot too: I paid my rent in cash.
I don't usually do this. Really, what it came down to was the following scenario: I was out of checks. Literally, did not have one in my possession. The new ones weren't going to arrive until after rent was due. In hindsight, I should've done a cashier's check or a money order, but I honestly didn't even think of those options. Didn't even cross my mind, mostly because I don't really use either of them. Ever.
Anyway, our apartment manager, in a misguided attempt at being helpful, returned my cash. The problem is, we're not sure who she returned it to. She claims it was our apartment, and that she gave it to the girl who answered the door. Now wait a second, let me check the rest of the 1000 square feet I can't see: Nope, no other girls here. So, June 7th rolls around and our manager's manager is getting ready to make the deposit. Only wait, she doesn't have ours.
So, Curious George gets a phone call, kindly requesting our rent money. He calls me, wondering what-the-h-e-double-hockeysticks is going on. I call the management. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Me: Hi, Brooke, this is Pippi from Such-and-such apartment. Um, I just got a call from my husband saying that you don't have our rent money.
Brooke: Right, Lindsay returned it to you and you brought her back a money order. Well, we have half of the money order here, but we can't do anything about it without the rest.
Me: Yeah, about that, I don't know who she returned it to, but I've never bought a money order in my life. I have no idea where that came from.
Brooke: Oh, well, do you want to come pick it up and you can take it back to the company and see if they'll print you a new one?
Me (getting rather irate at this point): How can I take it back? I don't know where it came from.
Brooke: Well, Lindsay is sure she took it to apartment --- and she gave it to the girl who answered the door.
Me: I work nights. I've been home everyday this week and I haven't seen her. Did she ask for a name before she handed over my 800 bucks?

Anyway, long story short: The management has no idea who they gave our rent money to. They have no idea where the subsequent money order came from. They've put in paperwork to try and figure it out, but it'll take 2 weeks to hear anything back. In the meantime, they're considering our rent paid (because as far as I'm concerned, it is). What it all boils down to is this:

Can we really stay here another year?

This may be the final straw for 2 years worth of dealing with this incompetence.

No News

I really don't have much to blog about. We're still waiting to hear about the house. Our jobs are going well. Life is about the same as always. So, purely for the sake of an update, enjoy some pictures. :)

A Little Bit of Controversy

This week I had a piece featured on Mormon Mommy Blogs. Apparently, without meaning to, I sparked quite a controversy. You see, I wrote about my plans to be a working mom. My thoughts and feelings on the subject seem to have hurt some feelings, unwittingly offended some fellow readers, raised a bit of ire in my general direction. This was not my intent. In the comments on said blog piece I have read everything from "thank you", to "I feel like I have to defend myself for being a stay at home mom", to "the prophets have counseled the women to be in the home". Apparently, by choosing to have a career as well as children, I am directly disobeying the prophet.

Let me just interject for a moment the following: if you are a stay at home mom, I applaud you. I understand that it is a full time job, and not for the faint of heart. You wear many hats and it takes a strong woman to hold her head high through that many costume changes. I have nothing against stay at home moms, and if that's what works for you family, fantastic! It was not my intent to belittle, attack, or in any way make light of the job you do. I have many close friends who have made the choice to stay at home, and I respect that a great deal.

However, I feel as though I need to explain myself a bit. (I know, anybody who disliked my piece that much isn't going to come read my personal blog, but I'll feel better). So, a few items of note:

1. I am a college educated woman. The skills that I have (and paid good money for) will not only assist me in the home, but they allow me to help others. I improve other people's lives. I did not go to college to get married. I went to college to better myself and to gain the knowledge to have a succesful nursing career.

2. I love my husband dearly, but it is not likely that any of his career choices will ever be able to solely support our family. And, rather than choosing to have me at home and him working multiple jobs, we've chosen to share the duties both in the home and in the workforce. At this point in time, we couldn't survive on his income as just the two of us, there's no way we could support a family on it.

3. My own personal sanity dictates that I need time outside the four walls of my home. Home is a haven, it's my favorite place to be, but even I get a little stir crazy if I don't get to see any other place. It is important for my own well-being as a person to experience adult interaction.

4. I don't feel like a bad member of the church for choosing to have a career. It is not a decision I have made lightly. I follow economical trends, I watch the housing market, and I keep a very tight budget for my husband and myself. The decision for me to keep a career is one that we have thought about, prayed about, and studied. We have discussed our choice with our families, church leaders, and asked for counself from our bishop.

All of that being said, let me apologize for any hurt feelings I may have cause. Again, this was not my intent. I simply ask that I be given the same courtesy I am extending to you. Judge not, lest ye be judged.

A Little Hypocrisy

I'm a hypocrite.

In my work as a nurse I get the opportunity to tell people to buck up. What they're going through is not the end of the world. There's always someone out there who has it worse.

Yet, when I'm sick, I turn into the world's biggest whiner. I get lazy, grumpy, and sometimes just plain mean.

This past week I've been a slug. I do nothing but lay around. I make myself get up and do the necessary things, but it's a struggle. I don't feel like eating, and consequently cooking, so Curious George has sort of been fending for himself. My throat hurts, my sinuses are full to the point of exploding, and all of the nastiness going on in my body is making me nauseous. Yeah, I'm whining. It's my blog, so what.

Anyway, back to being a hypocrite: Curious George told me to buck up. He told me that my life was not ending. It was just a sinus infection and I would get through it. And you know what I did? I cried. I broke down and bawled like a baby. Let me tell you, it didn't help the congestion any. So, most of the time I'm pretty mellow and even. I don't get riled up about much. So, when I break down like that it scares him a little bit. He quickly began to backpedal.

I reassured him that I was fine, I was just being a baby. And then I realized what a hypocrite I am. How can I expect to tell people with life-changing health problems to buck up when I melt down over a sinus infection?

But you know what? I still look something like this:

so I'm going to milk it for all it's worth!

Surprise!

I don't like surprises.

I can handle small things like Christmas, birthdays, etc, but if it's something big I don't like to be surprised. For example, if Curious George were to surprise me with a trip somewhere I would be bugged. Instead of thinking about how fun it would be to go on said surprise trip, I would be thinking about all of the things I need to do before we can go. I would think about asking for time off work, whether we needed new tires for the car before we went, etc.

However, I love to surprise Curious George with things. For his 30th birthday last year I threw him a surprise party. I love to get him little gifts that he doesn't know are coming. I love to surprise him.

Anyway, I was thinking last week that we've never been on a "real" vacation together. We've been fishing with the family, we went hiking in Zion for our honeymoon, and we've been on little local-ish trips. But, when I went to New York I went with the girls. It's been ages since either of us has been to Disneyland. It's been a decade since I sent to Europe, and neither of us has been on a cruise.

So, I've decided that for his birthday I want to surprise him with a trip somewhere. Hawaii is out, mostly cause we can't afford it, and also because Little Brother is there. There's no way we can do Europe. So, I'm thinking maybe San Diego. We could drive there, spend a day at Sea World, go to the zoo, and maybe spend a little time at the beach. Or we could do Disneyland. I haven't been since I was 18, he hasn't been since he was 7 (yeah, it's been 23 years since he saw Disneyland). Or maybe a short cruise. Who knows where we'll end up.

So, where would you take your significant other on a surprise vacation?

Learning Something New

Today I bring you an educational blog. We will be discussing the rules of frisbee golf, from a distant observers point of view.

1. The Dress Code: Clothing inhibits your throw, so less is definitely more. For women, shorty shorts and a tube top seem to be the best option. For men, just go shirtless. That seems to be the norm. However, boys, should you choose to wear a shirt it is encouraged that it either be a wife-beater tank top or contain a picture of one of the following: Bob Marley, a pot leaf, the Insane Clown Posse, or some sort of animal with antlers.

2. Bringing Baby: This is a game for the whole family. If you have a baby or a dog, bring them along! However, this game makes it clear, pushing the baby stroller is the woman's job. Also, I would recommend putting a leash on your dog (or your baby, if that's how you roll) so it can't chase down and mangle your vast collection of frisbees.

3. The Gear: If you plan on playing often I would recommend spending a large sum of money on frisbees of different weights, sizes, and colors. In fact, I would buy two of each, because it is inevitable that one will end up in the middle of the road and run over by a car. It is also important that you get the proper bag to carry all of your new overpriced plastic dinner plates. This way, they are organized and you can always claim that you can't push the stroller because you have to carry your murse.

4. Practice Makes Perfect: Since this "sport" seems so popular you will almost always end up waiting to start your turn through the course. While waiting it is customary to practice your throw. In fact, it is encouraged. However, one very strict rule is that you must use your playing companion as a target. Trust me, they like it.

5. The Casual Observer: This one is mostly for the women. If you're not going to play, you don't have a stroller to push, or a dog to control, it is recommended that you stand sullenly to one side, complain about how bored you are, twirl your hair, and pick your fingernails.

So, there you have the rules of frisbee golf according to a distant observer. Come on, it's fun to learn new things!

Disclaimer: This is meant to be a humorous blog post and does not in any way actually teach the game of frisbee golf.