She’s got an egg, A REAL egg, in her roost

It’s all happened so fast so I have yet to mentioned Eric’s latest project: The Chicken Coop.

You might not know this about my husband, but he’s real man of the land. The only way to see my husband lately is to go outside. Which I don’t mind doing, but sometimes it’s cold! However, the second it was dry enough, and moderately warm enough, that boy has been workin’ in the yard.

Let’s recount shall we? First he uprooted the old lawn, and then he put in new garden borders in the backyard. Then he planted all sorts of veggies in the garden box. Peas, onions, lettuce, some other good stuff we both can’t remember. (We love surprises!) But after the grass seed didn’t take, he uprooted the lawn AGAIN, and decided it was time for sod. So he put in higher newer, BETTER garden borders, and then spent days trying to get the sod delivered. Once the sod came, Eric, his ever-present helper, his father, and my little brother laid the sod. Then it rained for three days, and while everyone else was bummed out, we rejoiced and praised the sod Gods.

You would think the man would be satisfied with his peas and his sod. But no. Eric decided we needed chickens. Personally I think it’s all an excuse to avoid painting the kitchen, but he assured me we definitely needed chickens. “Think how cool it will be?! Fresh, non-genetically modified eggs? The baby will love the chickens!”

He had me at baby.

So after spending countless hours researching coops online, he decided him and his dad could EASILY make one. For three days straight the only thing Eric could concentrate on was THE COOP. He could hardly sit still long enough to let me tell him about my all my aches and pains…YES I’M STILL PREGNANT.

Meanwhile, Eric did have to do some real work. But he seemed to figure out a way, as he always does, to mix work with play. And on a job at a customer’s house that had a very large chicken coop, he mentioned how he was going to build one and then him and the homeowner became BFF’s. Next thing you know Eric’s been given two full-grown hens that the man will just hold onto for him until Eric is done with his coop.

This motivated Eric to get things done EVEN faster. And BOOM. Yesterday morning Eric completed the coop, and yesterday afternoon he picked up our hens.

We named them Clack and Cluck. Clack is black, (I’m a firm believer in mnemonic devices) and Cluck, the Queen of the roost, is brown.

Eric has been outside staring at the chickens ever since. And I could barely get him to concentrate on eating, EATING, because he wanted to go back out and check on the chickens.

So that’s how I left him this morning. Sitting on a chair “checking on the chickens.” And then about 10 minutes ago, I got a very exciting email from him with this picture…

Our very first egg! Thanks Clack. You’re a real gal pal.

Anyway, pictures of what we have deemed “Cooperville” are on the way.

Hope you’re having a fabulous Spring!

She’s having a good day.

Some days nothing can go right. No one can say the right thing, nothing can make you smile, and by the end of the day you’re left lying in bed wondering why you ever bother getting out of it at all.

And then there are days nothing can go wrong. No one can say the wrong thing, nothing can make you mad (well almost nothing), and even the simplest little thing can make the world seem better.

Maybe your days aren’t quite THAT extreme, but welcome to my world.

So which type of day is today? Today is a good day.

It doesn’t matter that it’s been snowy half the day and sunny the other half. I’ve seen the sun. And it doesn’t matter that none of my clothes fit…and my belly looks more “fat” then “preggo.” I’m creating life. And it certainly doesn’t matter that I have to pee EVERY 5 minutes or that my bra is strangling my will to live. Why? Because I’m enjoying a plump tangelo and several slices of smoky cheddar that my neighbor gave to me. And right now this cheese is better than sex. (Sorry pookie)

I’m so grateful for the miracle of life. And I figured I better write it down before I forget it! I feel so completely overwhelmed and inadequate to be carrying around another human, another beautiful spirit. I just want everyone to know I know how lucky I am to be able to get pregnant and have a child. There are so many women who have to work so hard and struggle for so long, and my heart just breaks for them. I try not to take for granted that I am lucky enough to be a mom-in-training.

Anyway. Can we all say HORMONES? Ha. But I don’t care. I love the tulips, I love the ice cream truck that drives by my house playing that creepy version of “The Mickey Mouse Club” and I love all of you.

Here’s a picture of me “loving life” this morning. I know I’m making a “poo poo” face in the picture. But that’s just because I can’t take myself seriously enough to smile. Please note our tulips (who finally decided to join the party). Oh and you can kind of see the panises I planted, you know the ones that had me convinced I had caused my baby brain damage.

As you can see I’m not much of a pregnant lady yet…but I’m working on it. One piece of cheese at a time, I’m working on it.

I’m also working on a badge design that reads:


You can send your orders in now.

WELL! Now that I’ve shared all that love I feel like I can get up and continue on with my life. Have a fabulous day.




Well hello, Monday.

In my opinion there’s only one way to start a Monday. And that’s with two breakfasts…CHECK…and a “Goodies by Ciara” Pandora radio station…DOUBLE CHECK.

I suggest you do the same. Because if one breakfast is good for you, imagine how healthy you’ll be if you eat two! In fact you could possibly LOSE weight. It hasn’t been working for me, but then again I do have a parasite the size of an orange.

Other than that the most exciting things happening in my life are the fact that Eric and I are getting sod for the backyard today! (And it’s a sad sad day when getting sod is actually a very thrilling event in your life.) And the fact that I ordered this for myself:

It’s a SNOOGLE! Have you seen/heard of these? I’m THRILLED about it. If you have any insight DO SHARE. But if it’s negative, keep it to your snotty little self. My SNOOGLE and I will be in love and we don’t want no haters.

Anyway. Enjoy your day!



A Word About Cats.

Disclaimer: If you are a cat person and would still like to respect me as a human and be my friend…then you probably shouldn’t read this post. But just remember, even if I don’t love your cat, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.

Cats and I have never, ever gotten along. We just don’t understand one another. I don’t like how they don’t really want you around, except to feed them, I don’t like how they make my eyes itch and tear up, and I especially don’t like their snotty little attitude. They don’t walk, they prance, they don’t eat, they nibble, and they certainly don’t love you, they’re just using you to clean up their poop.

This doesn’t mean I go around kicking stray cats or drowning kittens, I have a heart people! It does mean, however, that if you want to try to convince me why your cat is an exception and “not like other cats” (as all cat owners say)…well I don’t want to hear it. There’s a reason why things are called an “EXCEPTION,” and no matter how special you think your cat is, odds are, they probably aren’t one.

So back to cats. The other thing I really don’t like about them is that their owners let them wander around willy-nilly. (Yes Lea, I know Mike stays inside and I SINCERELY THANK YOU!) Anyway, I’d NEVER let my (hypothetical) dog wander through your yard and poop on your tulips. But people with cats let those things go wherever they please! Strutting around like sultans. Many mornings I see cat prints all over my car! The nerve.

Our next-door neighbors, though sweet as can be, happen to be cat people. And the problem with cat people, other than the fact they have been infected with cat saliva and have been chemically seduced by their felines, is that their cats attract OTHER cats. And those cats attract MORE cats, then before your know it, you feel like you’re living next door to Mr. Mistoffelees and his posse.

And if you think it’s not affecting my life. Well, you’re wrong! EXAMPLE: Eric left his hiking boots out on the porch. I was appreciative of this because who wants those muddy things in the house? One cold winter morning I pulled into the driveway after returning from the gym. I saw a cat perched on one of Eric’s boots. “What is that cat up to!?” I wondered. I decided to stay in the car and watch. After a few seconds the cat left, and when he hopped off the boot a little stream of steam wafted into the cold air.

That disgusting beast had peed in his shoe! Which means it had been peeing in his shoe for who knows how long!

Anyway, recently I’ve declared war on the cats because after gardening on Saturday, momentarily without gloves, (I FORGOT!! OK) I was POSTITIVE that I somehow contracted toxoplasmosis and that I had inadvertently caused my baby brain damage or worse. I became obsessed with this, just SURE that the place where I had planted all those pansies is the place where those evil cats might pee, and even though I washed my hands before eating that orange, it could have gotten under my fingernails!

Anyway. I then became convinced that the reason I’ve always disliked cats is because somehow subconsciously I knew that they were going to endanger my baby. And then I was positive that I shouldn’t be allowed to be a mother because I can’t even remember to wear gardening gloves. I like the feel of dirt!

However, after a hysterical break down, Eric did some research, we spoke to my midwife, and have concluded that a) that the cats would have to POOP there b) they don’t poop there, they poop by the back window c) the statistical odds that I don’t already have toxoplasmosis, plus the odds that I contracted it, plus the odds it would actually reach my baby, are well, quite quite slim.

BUT REGARDLESS. The mental anguish it has caused me has been horrendous. Enough so that Eric is now fed up with those cats, and he hates them as much as I do.

Which brings me to the BB Gun. Eric might have accidently picked one up last night and is positively giddy about it. Don’t worry, he promises not to shoot to kill or even shoot to maim, but just to scare. And even though I dislike cats A LOT, and they have possibly hurt my unborn child, I still don’t totally support it.

But at the same time. I’m not going to stop it.

So take that pussy cat.

I told you, you shouldn’t have read this if you love cats. Don’t judge me. I’m just one pregnant woman trying to make her way in this world.



She’s got a bone to pick with pregnancy.

Now that the cat is out of the bag, we can finally talk about all this pregnancy nonsense! I’ll apologize in advance to the male readers…but I’m thinking you’ll probably find some of this information useful in the future, and if not, well then just keep it in your pocket as a cautionary tale!

WTF people? How on earth are so many women pregnant? I don’t think I’ve really ever paid attention before to pregnancy, frankly it never interested me. So it seemed like all of the sudden I joined a club of clichés and romantic comedies. And this one thought has echoed over and over, as catchy as the Thong Song and even more repetitive: “HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS MULTIPLE TIMES?!” And not only are they pregnant multiple times, they do it voluntarily. AND they do it while taking care of other children. HOW? WHY? It all seems so cruel.

Those little babies must really be worth it! Now don’t get me wrong, my first trimester was bad, no fun, yucky, awful, but it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been or as I have discovered other women’s can be. I wasn’t hospitalized because I couldn’t keep food down, in fact it all stayed down no matter how badly I prayed for it to come up (yes I’m serious I prayed multiple times to chuck), and now that I’m almost 15 weeks it’s I’m starting to feel A LOT better. I never had to vomit (or worse) publically and I’ve only passed out once (so far). Some women feel sick the whole time! They deserve medals.

Also while I’m ranting, I think it’s important I publically address the misnomer “Morning Sickness.” Eric was sincerely confused when I felt as if I was going to hurl from the moment I woke up until the second I went to bed. And sometimes in the middle of the night. And not only do you feel sick, you feel like a lazy slob because the only thing you have enough energy to do is push the “next” button on your Netflix screen so another episode of Friday Night Lights plays. (I LOVE YOU TIM RIGGINS!)

Add all of this to the fact that some women are able to keep all this DRAMA to themselves for the first 12+ weeks, and pregnancy just continues to BOGGLE the mind. How can you feel like that, at work, at the (GAG) supermarket, when out with friends, with family, and NOT tell them about it? But I think the ability to NOT tell people things will always to elude me no matter what the circumstances.

Anyway. Like I said. I’m feeling so much better. I can open my refrigerator without wanting to cry, eat something other than Gyros and fast food, and I don’t even have to take afternoon naps anymore. But I just want to give a GREAT BIG shout out to all you moms. You astound me. And also, almost none of you blog about the negative parts. Don’t worry, I’ll do it for you so no one else is fooled!

However, other than all of the physical maladies, mentally and emotionally all those hormones must have evened me out. I think (others might disagree) that I’ve been a very reasonable pregnant lady. And I only recall one freak out, when my sister told me I was, “overreacting” to a certain situation. And as we all know, the worst thing you can say to someone who IS overreacting, is that they are overreacting.

Anyway. I have so much more to say on the matter. And it probably all falls into the mushy miracle of life category. And I’ll try to spare you. But it’s my blog and it’s your fault for reading.

Also, thank you so much for all the sweet words and congratulations. I’d write more, like how each and every comment meant so much to me, but if I do I’ll start crying.

But. I love you all. I’m so horribly happy that I if I pause too long to reflect I’ll just melt into a puddle. Life man, it’s CRAZY! Now I’m going to listen to Usher’s new song OMG, because obviously the baby will have to take after its mother in the dirty dancing skills department.



Keep it crafty, Keep it sassy.