Just Heather

We had the gender identification ultrasound today. I’ll post pics over at the baby’s blog as soon as they get scanned. I guess I can start calling the baby her now instead of “the baby” or the infamous “it.”

No disappointment here, only mild amusement at Spencer surrounded by all those girls. The girls both wanted a boy since they each have a sister already. I guess I was sort of hoping for a boy, but only because we’ve had the full name picked out for a hundred years. Well, 8 years anyway.

Now begins the 4 month battle for Lorelai’s middle name. So head on over to hubby’s place and tell him that Lorelai Raine is a beautiful name for our newest little one. Unless you don’t like it, in which case you can shut your trap.

The other day we got Stacia’s 2nd grade teacher assignment in the mail, along with the huge list of supplies and a text book bill. Can this summer zip by any faster?

My posts are so few and far between. I don’t seem to have much time to think about it. I’m not even keeping up very well on my favorite blogs. My days consist of the same old stuff, with the addition of a second child to entertain and summer activities to attend. First we had a week of Girl Scout camp, then a week of soccer camp. Now it’s just day to day things.

I meet some friends at a park every other Thursday. Last week we went to a water playground. The girls had a great time, but I missed a few spots with Brenia’s sunscreen. She had a series of red dots across her cheeks. Oops.

We are also participating in our library’s summer book program. Most of the prizes are free meals at restaurants so I was all about it. Any summer night I don’t have to cook is good with me. It’s just too damn hot to turn on the oven. I’d grill every night except I feel bad asking Spencer to fire up the grill as soon as he gets home every evening. Sure, I could do it myself like a good little feminist, but the gas terrifies me.

We’re not quite halfway through with this summer, and I’m already wishing the extended calendar had passed. Eleven weeks is a long, long time. The holiday weekend should be a nice break. We are going up to my in-laws lake cabin. It’s one of my favorite things to do, and we just don’t go often enough. Mostly I feel bad inviting myself all the time, but it’s so nice to be away for a few days and not have all my day-to-day responsibilities staring me in the face.

I’ll have at least one update before we take off—gotta get my mixmania posted and mailed!

I’ve been out of town for awhile, thus the lack of posting. Maybe later this week I’ll regale you with tales from my hometown visit. For my return post, I’ll share an entertaining tidbit from my two-year-old, as she followed me into the bathroom.

Brenia: You nake.
Mommy: Yes, I’m changing my shirt.
Brenia: You big.

Why are my children constantly pointing out how large I am?

I just told Mommy “poopy!” like I always do when it’s time to change my diaper. Mommy checked and was so happy that I wasn’t dirty yet. We ran to the potty, and she helped me climb on. I sat and sat and sat and sat and then I pooped! It was so fun to flush the potty instead of sitting in stinky pants. Mommy is very happy! I happy too!

I can’t wear any of my clothes and have gained twice as much weight as my doctor says I should have. Yet people just keep saying “you don’t even look pregnant!” Is that supposed to be some sort of compliment? Um, thanks. Good to know I just look fat.

Pregnancy dreams are just plain weird. They are a strange mix of reality, books I’ve read, and the blog community. Lately my dreams have been every day life sort of things so I wake feeling like I never slept. Twice in the last week they have been about a blogger. I think it was something I read, knowing he was hurting, and wanting to reach out in some way. So I just weaved him into my unreality while I was sleeping.

The blog community is funny that way. I have lots of blogs that I read regularly, almost daily, and a few of those who I truly consider friends. Should they call, email or IM me I would put my own crap on hold to help however I could. If I reference something they said it’s always “my friend.” I think and pray about them regularly. When they are away from their blog for a bit, I worry and wonder how they are doing. If you think you’re one of them, you probably are.

But back to my dreams (it’s all about me!) The most restful I have slept in months was last week when I dreamed that we fell asleep together. On his couch (from a book). In a snowstorm (another book). After eating ice cream (actually happened). I awoke well-rested and full, but a little bit cold.

I met up with Rachael for dinner again last night. She picked a local place called Bub’s Home of the Ugly Burger. I’m not really very adventurous, but burgers are burgers so I decided to give it a shot. Besides, the house that it runs from used to be a restaurant called That One Place and I always wanted to go there just for the “Who’s on First” humor of discussing it.

Per our usual style, we had a fun marathon dinner. I had half a burger and 2 orders of fries. They were so close to the ones I used to love from Red Robin, which closed a few years ago. I was just recently talking about that with a friend and craving them so it worked out perfect. After dinner we headed to Ritter’s where I had a banana split for the first time in 8 years! We talked and ate ice cream until they turned out the lights to kick us out.

I don’t know what it is about us that make our dinners last so long. Maybe it’s because we’re still just getting to know one another and have lots of stories to tell. Perhaps it will taper off eventually, but somehow I doubt it. Though, sometimes I fell like I dominate the conversation too much. I’m a bit of a talker, in case you hadn’t noticed! I am learning a lot about her though, so maybe it’s not as bad as I think. We just seem to mesh, despite the age difference.

I don’t always feel like an old soccer mom when we get together. Of course it probably helps that she’s the one driving around in the soccer mom mobile! I do usually feel like a fashion retard though. She always looks great, and I just throw on whatever is clean. To top it off, I get home and find something stuck in one of my teeth. Who knows how long that had been there looking all hot. We did eat outdoors at both places so maybe it was dark enough that I didn’t look like a total heel.

If you are an old, bearded white guy you should never, ever say “my homeys.”