I’ve sat down, written out a sweet post and then walked away from it. I’ve done it about 4 times-really! Why can’t I just hit ‘publish’? I start writing and think, I should save this for 2 more days when insert-activity-here happens and then it will be so interesting, they’ll come back to me! Lies, people, I tell myself I’m going to do something and don’t follow through. What good am I? I really miss blogging. I think I just got caught up in having too much going on. I would jot things on little scraps of paper to blog about, shove them in my purse and say,’I'll get to that asap.’ Yeah, that was a no-go and I just bought a bigger purse.  So, I’m writing right now, when I’m sleep deprived. I have no clue if I’m saying anything good or if I’m even spelling things correctly. I’ll read it after my nap. Maybe edit it then, too. Anyway, life has been good but, busy. I’ve spent so much time in Detroit the last 5 months, I feel like I moved back. Up until Christmas, I’ve had such an easy pregnancy, that I’ve not slowed down at all. In fact, if I didn’t have a baby bump, I could still party like a rock star! I’ve shopped like I have never shopped before in my entire life. (Nothing important or I would so share it with you, you know that!) I have cleaned and organized things I didn’t even know I had. If I didn’t recognize something, didn’t want it or just found no space for it, I donated it or threw it away. I’ve had a HUGE fight with PJ over the placement of a wooden shelf and I cried when I watched ‘Happy Feet’. That just about covers the physical/mental aspects of pregnancy.  I’ve hired *gasp* a man to clean the house. Which is very weird to me since we all tend to think of cleaning people as women. I can’t say he’s going to be around for long though. I’ve given him about 2 months now and he half-way sucks. He’s one of those hippy people that cleans organic. He uses aromatherapy to ‘cleanse’ my house.  I love hippies, just not weird ones. Plus, he sent me a Christmas card with his bare feet on it…nuff’ said. (Plus, feet FREAK ME OUT!)   My holidays were good, the norm…I didn’t get a gift from him for Christmas (well, I kinda did. That can be another post)so, I need to get me one. Everything was quiet for the first time in my entire life. We spent Christmas alone, with no family. I must say, it was rather odd. More on that later.Will post soon!!!!!!!!! 

The heat! The heat!!!! Doesn’t Missouri know that it’s fall? It should be getting cooler, alas, I’m still in shorts. That’s really what has kept me from blogging. Honestly. Let me explain….

A few weeks ago, I was a little sick. Just a little stomach bug, nothing bad. Then, I started to sweat. My damp hair would stick to my neck and I could feel sweat trickle down my chest. So, I took to my bed and slept. And slept. And slept. PJ actually started to worry about me. I rarely feel unwell. All of my symptoms were mild but, just enough to keep me from being me. That’s because I’m no longer ‘me’…I’m a ‘we’. I’m pregnant, Internet.

I’ve been a little under the weather but, I’m back in the saddle again! I’ll return Monday for some fun. Until then, please read about my next husband. He’s going to be so worth it! (Please note that he’s in Kansas City. Not far from me!)

>>Clicker<<

Yesterday the lawn dudes were here to mow the lawn. There are two of them and they’re on these huge industrial mowers. They perform the intricate cris-cross pattern across my lawn as they mow, passing each other. I believe it’s known as the Dance of the Lawn Men. Anyway, they were hauling ass and one of them sideswiped my electric box. I don’t know if he was just not looking or if he was wasted. If I just had to sit on a mower all day, I would have a few drinks, too. He hit the electric box hard enough that he damaged his mower (not cheap!) and took out the entire electric box. For about 4 hours, I was getting free power! Sweet! The electric company came out, replaced the box and my poor lawn dudes will have to pay for it.

Yes, I know ‘dudes’ is no longer fashionable but, that’s what they are. They have that ‘dude’ look about them. The label stays!

After my lawn drama, I decided that I needed a rest. Nothing like getting over extreme stress with a nap. I did set my alarm clock though. Fat lot that did me because all I did was hit the snooze. Little did I know that there was a predator in my house. Yup, I (eventually) woke up, walked out of the bedroom and crossed the foyer into the office…I looked on the floor and there was a SNAKE! I had a snake in my house, people!*

Quickly, my domestic defense skills went into action. I grabbed an old family portrait, my wedding rings, the dogs and jumped in my trusty SUV. I then called the police. My house was under attack. The police were slow to respond. I debated starting a small fire in a garbage can to smoke out the intruder. I wanted my house back. Alas, the police contacted Animal Services, they finally arrived and removed the intruder.

How was your Tuesday?

*The last paragraph was crap. All I did was take a piece of Tupperware and trap the thing until PJ got home. Besides, it was a baby snake and not all that scary. Still, it was a snake in my house and it still makes me want to pee my pants a little. The other ending was just so much more exciting to read.

I grew up very religious. Private school, Dad was a deacon, we wore skirts, head coverings and all that. PJ grew up more Catholic than a stained glass window. Needless to say, we’re not offended by church.

To church we went. I think when you go to church, you should at least be clean and presentable. What I can’t get over is the college girl in her Abercrombie mini skirt showing her vag lips to the entire congregation. Wouldn’t you know she’s also the same girl that has to get up 3 times in a service? What are her parents thinking when they all get in the family car to go?

Because the churches down here are huge, there are about 15 mini skirt girls per section of the sanctuary. At least my husband has live nude-ish entertainment for the hour. Oddly, we get along very well after church. I think he likes Holy Hookers.