Tuesday, November 25, 2008

We got the turkey...

Every Thanksgiving the Air Force gives the enlisted airmen a box of food so that they can have an awesome Thanksgiving dinner. Typically, this box is delivered to your home on Monday or Tuesday so you have time to get everything else you need.

This year, they had the people in My Husband's squadron pick up their boxes. My Husband got his today... with the last turkey.

Our neighbor left his turkey in the freezer at work, assuming that it would be there when he was ready to get it. We aren't exactly sure what happened, but somehow his turkey disappeared. Since My Husband got the last turkey, our neighbor feels that it belongs to him instead.

Now, we had planned to have both families celebrate together and have one big dinner. Through a series of horrible events, none of us can stand him at the moment so we won't be doing that.

He wants the turkey.

I say, it's our turkey, in our fridge... screw him.

Since we love his wife, we're going to allow her and the children to have some of our turkey, along with whatever delicious sides we come up with.

Personally, this year, I'm incredibly thankful that I have a wonderful, loving husband... and that I'm not married to that asshole.

For weeks, his wife O has been craving an ice cream cake from Baskin Robins; one with blue icing and sunflowers. He has been taunting and teasing her, pretending that he bought it and then crushing her. He has made it very obvious that he does not care how is actions affect those around him, and I am very glad that he will not be joining us this Thanksgiving as I do not want to censor my snide remarks. That's alright, apparently he "Doesn't want to deal with my hormones" anyway.

That comment stemmed from one night when I told him how much of a jerk he was, expalined that he was hurting his wife with his stupidity, and then told him not to yell in my house when he started talking back.

Yesterday, My Husband and I took O to Baskin Robins to get her cake. Blue, with sunflowers, with the jerks favorite ice cream. I looked over at the girl who was taking our order, and asked "Will you write anything we want on the cake?" She, of course, said yes. I said it again, "I mean, ANYTHING?". She said that they got weird requests all the time.

No one was in the store, so we pushed further. "You mean, you will write anything we want. Anything at all?"

The cake, with beautiful blue icing and sunflowers, read as follows:

"Bought my own, Fucker!"

Whoever decorated that cake did an amazing job. "Bought my own" was on the top of the cake in beautiful red letters. "Fucker!" took up the entire side of the cake.

Once O sends me me a copy of the picture, I'll be sure to add it. You really don't understand how pretty this cake was.

Anyway, back to Thanksgiving.

This will be our second Thanksgiving away from our families, so it's up to us to make all of the yummy things we want. I really don't know if I'll be able to recreate my Mammaw's dressing, but I hope I can do a half decent job.

While stuffing our faces full of (hopefully) delicious turkey, we will remember all the things we are thankful for- Friends. family, free food, and a paid day of freedom.

Oh... one more thing.

It's our turkey, spunkstain. Hope you like your bowl of corn.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

This time I have a good reason...

So, yet again, I took an abnormally long vacation from blogging... to go on a mini vacation!

We haven't seen very much of each other lately, so we stayed at a moderately amusing hotel about an hour and a half away. This hotel, Buffalo Bill's, is right across the street from our last In-State mini vacation. Appropriately named, the hotel has a Wild West/Frontier theme and our room was located in the Annie Oakley tower.

We decided that we had better take all of the mini vacations that we can, because in about 7 1/2 months, we won't be able to!

That's right, I've been infected and all of my time and energy will be devoted to raising a normal, functional member of society.

In the coming months you can expect updates about the many wonders of pregnancy, including all the yucky stuff you probably won't want to read. Since I got the news, I've been reading lots of books to try and get a really good idea about what is going to happen. So far my favorite is "The Unexpected When You're Expecting" which is a parody of the 'mom-to-be's best friend', "What to Expect...".

"The Unexpected..." was able to break some of the tension and finally get me to laugh at the whole thing. Then again, laughing when you are so gassy that you feel like you're going to float away may not be the best idea. Especially near an open flame...

Friends, family, and strangers have already started giving me advice. I have decided that the best thing I can do will be thanking them for their input and doing what I want anyway. I understand that many women have done this long before I ever thought of having a child, but I don't want someone trying to guilt me into naming my baby Sanfred just so they can feel better about their life.

If I want a cup of coffee, I don't need 18 women screaming at me to pour it out. If I have a few cigarettes, even after I've officially quit, I don't want to hear one complaint from anyone that has not had an up close and personal view of my cervix. They may have gone through pregnancy, but they have no idea what I'm going through.

Yesterday, my hormones were going haywire and I cried for several hours. Everyone kept asking me if I was ok, and I mostly was. There are some tough things that I need to tell a lot of people, some happy things, panic at a stupid thing I did, realizing that my embryo has probably been drunk at least once since the conception date may not have been accurate, and trying to quit smoking have all taken a toll on my emotions.

My Husband has been wonderful and has graciously agreed to pick up my slack. Keeping the place clean is going to be very important since we are adding another person to our household. (If only this new person came with an extra room...)

Our Roommate is still working out what he wants to be called. I've come up with a fun list of things that wont involve my baby calling him Uncle, since he is not comfortable with that.

Woobie
Scooby
Boppy
Name-Name (His name, not the word name...)
Boba (or Bobo)
Yabbo

Ok, so the list isn't that great... but it's really hard to figure out what your baby is going to call this dude that lives with you, but isn't related-- completely family, but no blood ties.

Oh well, we've got a few more months to figure it all out.