Crawfish & Carnival

Well kiddies, I would love to claim that I've just been too darn busy to post any new posts, but that would sadly be a lie. I haven't been busy at all, just lazy and uninspired.

Actually I get inspired about lots of things but I'm afraid to post my opinions on things that really catch my attention lately. Things like our first amendment rights to freedom of speech, politics in general, and the vast difference between the Baptist and Catholics faiths....but I digress. That mess is boring to most and highly offensive to some, so I shall move on to less provocative topics.

Like the season's first crawfish boil! Woo hoo! Last Saturday we attended a crawfish boil/engagement party for my sweet friend Melissa who just so happens to be my favorite attorney in the world, too. She recently got engaged to her sweet beau, Robert (who we affectionately call Bob when he isn't listening) so we joined them in celebrating. Crawfish, taters, corn, and the occasional piece ov spicy garlic (if you're lucky) = AH-MA-ZIN! I had to load up on my Zantac first, but it was well worth the threat of indigestion.

For those that don't live in our fair city or participate in the Catholic faith, we are knee-deep in Mardi Gras and Fat Tuesday is fast approaching. I know it is all going to be worth it in the end and this sweet baby girl has arrived, but I must confess Mardi Gras is simply not as much fun when you're sober. There is just something to be said about waiting around downtown Mobile with a chilly cocktail in your hand, waiting on the next parade of revelers to come throw some more useless stuff.

Except for moonpies and cups, which are hardly useless. Minus the orange flavored moonpies.

In the midst of the Carnival and Crawfish season, we are also working (somewhat) hard on getting the nursery ready for Dayleigh. Yep...that's her name! A combo of my maiden name and my middle name, which originally came from both of my great-grandmothers. We are turning the room that my girlfriends and I called the "Beaudoir", although it was technically my dressing room/closet, into the nursery and it has been a TRYING experience to say the least. Apparently I did not make a wise decision 3 years ago when I painted the room French Red with Doo-Doo Brown trim. (Yes, that is the official Benjamin Moore name in case you were wondering) It has been incredibly difficult to paint over with the new fabulous Sleek Gray and white trim. Virtually impossible, actually. After 3 coats of trim paint, I think we are going back to Lowe's for some oil-based rather than another coat of water-based crap.

Pics to come later (maybe!) once I figure out how I'm actually going to decorate her room. So far...I'm not much further along than picking a paint color. I thought picking a name was hard, but decorating is proving to be harder than I ever anticipated.

Wish us luck that H makes it through this stage alive and I don't lose my mind or spend my annual salary hiring an interior decorator and calling it a day!

Trojans One and All!

Today on Show Us Your Life over at Kelly's Korner, she has chosen Alma Maters as the topic for the day. I am very proud to be a graduate of Troy University (although it was Troy State University) when I was there, so I thought I would link up and give ya'll a few juicy tidbits about good 'ol T-Roy in Troy, Alabama.

Troy University might not bring up the same amount of recognition or heated discussion that Auburn or Alabama, but those that walked the halls there are more than happy to tell you just exactly why bigger isn't always better. Troy had the perfect mixture of all the other schools. We were big enough for fun football games and events, yet small enough that teachers could call you by your first name. Classes were intimate and I believe teachers felt that sense of classroom community, too. I always felt that my advisor, the delightful Prof. Donna Clark Schubert, and really almost all of my teachers, felt that my level of education was a priority to them as well. Our colors were cardinal, silver, and black and the Trojan warrior was our mascot. Our football team was and is still working our way up the D-1 rankings, conquering some pretty fierce foes from time to time!

I learned so much during my time at Troy. I began as a freshman in the Fall of 2001, and ended up graduating just a few years later in December 2005. It only took 4 1/2 years, which I thought was pretty successful considering the social calendar I kept.

Sidenote: I used to have a friend with a VERY proud mama that would always talk my parents' ears off about how wonderful lil Suzie (names have been changed for privacy reasons) was doing at college and how she worked a full schedule at the school, managed straigh A's, blah, blah, blah....My dad's reply was always, "Well Tiffany has a lot of fun!" Thanks Dad, and don't worry-you weren't lying with those words! :)

My years at Troy taught me about who I really was. I learned that I shouldn't even waste my time with degrees that involve too much math and that 8 am classes are just not for me. I learned that sisters are just as cool as I had always imagined. I also discovered that my checking account was magically linked to my parents' account so checks never actually bounced, the funds were just deducted from their account. (Sorry again, Dad) And that you can change your report card address without having parental consent because you are an "adult". For the first time ever, I also experienced Walmart after midnight, paying bills (kinda) on my own, not making my bed immediately after I woke up, and living with other girls my own age.

Overall, it was pretty darn awesome.

I had a trailer, which was not at all white-trash and actually quite cool in college. My best friend Nicole lived with me practically from start to finish, and we were great roommates. We started out with another friend named Leighanne, then my other bf Nicole, then another good friend named Kristin. I'm sure we had some arguments from time to time, but for the most part we all got along really well together and somehow managed to not kill each other.

I was also a member of a sorority, Alpha Delta Pi. Troy brought me together with sisters for the first time, and it was a unique time in my life. I've always been a joiner, so Greek life was perfect. Plus I'm always down for any excuse to choreograph a skit or dance! And there are a TON of opportunities for that in a sorority!

I even met H while at Troy. He was a Pi Kappa Phi, which just happened to be my favorite place to party. I mean...study and discuss World Lit and philosophy. We started out as great friends, and things somehow got to where we are today--married 4 years next month with a baby on the way! For that, I must thank the 'ol alma mater I guess.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Today is a a good day and a bad day. First of all, it's a lovely day because it's my parent's anniversary. They were married in a back yard in Destin way back in 1981 (I think. It might have been 1980, I'm not really good with math). Of all the great love stories I've heard, there's has to be the best. They were two previously-burned lovers whose eyes locked across a crowded room (okay, that room was a bar--The Four Sons for all you Opp, AL natives, but still!) He thought she was too young, she thought he was married...yet somehow they found each other and a few years later the greatest blessing of their life arrived--me! :) Happy Anniversary you two crazy kids!

Secondly, it's nice to be loved, wanted, and appreciated on Valentine's Day. I am thankful I have H, who makes me laugh and makes me breakfast on the weekends. I remember what it was like to be a card-carrying member of the Single's Club and I can say it's better to get a crappy gift from a gas station than no gift at all. Happy Valentine's Day to my Baby's Daddy!

It's also a sad day. My PawPaw Hoss died a year ago today. He wasn't a cuddly cute grandpa that would bounce me on his knee. He was crass and he told inappropriate jokes. He never spelled my name right, he usually smelled like a boat and old cigars, and he only made appearances when food was involved. But...he was MY Hoss and I loved him. He could tell a fishing story better than anyone I've ever heard, he loved politics, and he loved his grandkids. Especially the only granddaughter of his "Baby". I loved him and I miss him at the weirdest moments. The world is a little less bright without him.

But I digress. I read another blog today that inspired my Valentine's Day post, which is really just about love in general. Not sappy love, just love in its many various musical forms.

And now...without any further commentary....

Love Songs of My Life: The Anthology
(In Chronological Order)

1.) Every Rose Has Its Thorn-I once dated a boy named Joey and he was the best thing since sliced bread. I had a crush on him, and low and behold-he actually liked me, too. We used to call each other at night and listen to this song as we debated who was going to hang up first. Ahhh...young love. Eventually I learned that yes, every rose does have its thorn...but thankfully there are a lot of other roses in the garden.

2.) How Do You Talk To An Angel-The skating rink was a feeding ground for young love. I had my heart broken (and my glasses, but that's a WHOLE different story) there in the same place where I had many a birthday party and snowball skates. I even got my first bra at the skating rink. I went through an awkward phase at one point in my life, from about 7-13, and the skating rink was just NOT the place for a chubby gal with glasses and braces. I was always popular and had tons of friends, I just wasn't exactly raking in the offers to hold hands and skate around the rink to this song. But how I longed to.

3.)I'll Make Love to You-Okay, so this is totally inappropriate for any middle schooler to be grooving to, but seriously...how many people can hear Boys II Men and NOT be instantly transported to a 7th grade dance? The awkward phase was at it's peak during this point of my life, but even I could find another awkward soul to dance with. Picture it...swaying awkardly, hands on shoulders and hips, not daring to get too close. You know you loved it then, and now.

4.) Love You Down-Spring Break 1998-99? I'm not sure the exact year, but I KNOW we were in Panama City Beach, in one of my girlfriend's cars, singing this tune at the top of our lungs. Boys may come and boys may go...but love songs that you sing with your gals are always tops.

5.) Wonderful Tonight-Some people have terrible first experiences with their first love. My first love was wonderful. He was sweet, thoughtful, intelligent, and funny. Plus he was one of my best friends. Even though many years have passed and we are both happily married today, this song always brings a smile to my face because it reminds me of happy high school times. It's a constant reminder to be thankful for what you have, and to compliment those that you love--a nice word goes a long way, whether it's a love song or in real life.

5.5.) Your Body is a Wonderland-This song stinks and I am not, nor have I ever been, a John Mayer fan. This is simply a reminder that sometimes piece of crap guys will come along and tell you all sorts of things they don't mean. But nevertheless, it takes the bad to appreciate the good. Bottom line-never trust a dude who sings John Mayer to you!

6.) Romeo and Juliet-This little-known song is by one of my favorite bands, Dire Straits. I fell in love with this song when a cute guy named Ben played the guitar and sang this to a circle of girls at Governor's School. (Sidenote: This is the time I realized boys with guitars are infinitely cuter than boys without guitars) Many years later, H and I had stumbled across each other at Spring break in PCB when he asked me if I wanted to get away from the noise and go sit in his car for a few moments. What a line, huh? :) When we got in the car, he had a song I just HAD to hear...and it was this one. Here was a cute boy who liked one of my most favorite (and obscure) songs. This was when I knew he was the One. And mom, if you're reading this, he was a perfect gentleman!


7.) My Girl-This is the song my father and I danced to at my wedding. What love is stronger than the love between a father and daughter? Probably not much, if any. With my own lil gal's due date swiftly approaching, I can only imagine how much she is going to be a daddy's girl, just like me. And that makes me love them all even more.

8.) What a Wonderful World-After we were engaged, we spent quite a bit of time trying to find the right song to dance to. Actually, both of us had forgotten about this detail until the DJ at our wedding asked us what song we wanted to have our first dance to. We looked through his collection of tunes and realized that he didn't have the aforementioned Dire Straits song, which kind of broke my heart a little. We decided on the classic "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong. It is a beautiful, beautiful song that still makes me a little misty. About a year later as we danced to this at the 'ol Pelican Pub on Dauphin Island, H's father mentioned that this song had always been special to him, too, because it was the song playing in their hospital room when he first held baby H. What a wonderful world, indeed, Louis.

Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours! Kiss someone special today--but don't let it go too far or you'll end up like me!

Worries

Being a first-time mother-to-be, there are some things that keep me awake at night. Not necessarily the typical thoughts or what-ifs that come along with a child, thoughts like "Will she be healthy?" or "Will she have ten fingers and ten toes?" and "Will she be cute?" Of course I wonder/worry about these types of things as they are inevitable in a pregnant woman's mind. But for today, I am more focused on the lighter side of pregnancy, childbirth, child rearing, and imparting of wisdom that I will face in the next 18 or so years. I don't want to pretend that these are more important than the other more serious concerns like numbers of fingers and toes---but well, the possibilities are just too scary for my mind to comprehend so I prefer to pretend like they simply don't exist.

That's how I've gotten through life thus far, so I will just stick with that method for now.

I am SO lucky to be having this type of pregnancy. After listening to some of my friends talk about their experiences, I half expected to find myself mentally insane, puking my internal organs up from morning to night, or just laying around being fanned by palm fronds while I ate peeled grapes. So far it's been a breeze. As in...I can't even tell I'm pregnant except for the fact that my clothes no longer fit and my boobs are looking fab-u-lous. Well, that and the fact that I could quite possibly blow the doors off a house with the indigestion/burps I have lately. But even in the midst of my pregnancy nirvana, I worry. I worry about things like:

1.) Hemorrhoids--Ummm...no thanks, Baby! I'm good! I have no desire to have these things that I'm not even 100% sure what they are and how they get there, but I know WHERE they are and that is enough for me to know I could do without them.

2.) Poop--I've heard through the grapevine that it is possible for a woman to poop during childbirth. Now H and I have been through a lot together over the past 7-8 years, and we've both seen some things that we wish we could un-see. But pooping on a table is NOT something I want to add to that list. God have mercy on my soul if that happens because I will never live it down. And it might, just might, keep us from having Baby # 2.

3.) Large Baby--I want a healthy baby, don't get me wrong. But is it too much to ask for a child of a normal birth weight? I was a lil thing at only 5 lbs, but H was like Andre the Giant from what I hear. Okay, maybe not Andre the Giant! But to a chick who is only 5'1, an almost 9 lb baby just sounds impossible. And like torture. I am so afraid this baby is going to be a mutant thing with a head like a bowling ball. I'm thinking a cross between that shim wrestler China, me, and H. If that ain't scary, I don't know what is. Seriously...it gives me nightmares.

4.) Breast Feeding--Yep, I'm gonna breast feed. It is by far the healthiest way to nourish a child. It's nature's way after all! And I WILL succeed at this as I'm leaving myself no other option. But I worry so much about it-especially considering I don't know many other moms who did it. Will she like it? Will it hurt? Will it make H feel left out? Most importantly though (and let's be honest) will it make my boobs look crazy afterward? Will one be saluting the heavens and the other be dragging the infield? How do I keep them balanced? Does that pump feel as painful as it looks? Does it come with instructions? Obviously I need to do some reading on this subject before the big day arrives...

5.) Intelligence--We will love Baby C like nothing we've ever loved before, of this I am sure. But what if she's dumb as a box of hammers? I have no patience for stupid. What if she isn't witty and funny? H and I have always said the reason we are together is because we "get" each other. We laugh at the same things, and usually it is something along the smartass lines. (I hate to admit it, but it's true) What if she thinks Larry the Cable Guy is funny and Justin Beiber is the best ever? Yikes. What if we have to go the rest of our lives explaining jokes to her because she just doesn't "get" it?

6.) Details--What about the details? People keep telling me "Don't worry-once she pops out you'll just KNOW! Your motherly instincts will just appear and you'll know!" But what if that doesn't happen? What if God didn't give me a Motherly Gene and instead replaced it with the ability to pinch/pick up things with my toes? I consider myself fairly competent. I'm sure I can figure out how to put on a diaper and such. But how do I learn to trim tiny fingernails? How do I know when she should be eating cereal? What if she doesn't potty train on time? Or at all?

I'm sure it will all come to me/us. Thankfully I have tons of friends who are mommies. And some I even value their opinions! Haha-just kidding! I am prepared for tons of advice, whether I really want it or not. Some we will take and some we will toss--I'm guessing that every new set of parents have to find out what works for them. No two children are the same so there is really no reason to expect two parenting styles to be the same. And I'm hopefully that for the things good 'ol fashioned experience can't remedy (like oddly disproportionate boobies) there is surgery!

Besides, if this baby turns out half as good as our fur children--we should be good!

Poor, Pitiful Pearl

I will readily admit I am usually an optimistic person. I come from the "old school" where I fully believe in such mantras as, "Life is what you make it," "Crying never solved a problem," and "Buck up, sista, and move on!" I try very hard to be the go-with-the-flow girl that can find the silver lining in almost any cloud. Usually, if I'm upset, not many people know it except for my very best friends, my husband, or maybe my parents.

And even then, it's got to be something pretty rough. I guess I just feel like there are so many other people in the world with real problems that mine seem kind of silly in comparison. I know I am so blessed to never have experienced any sort of real heartache, and that is not a blessing I take for granted. I have had it easy, and I will be the first person to admit that.

But sometimes....I just want to wallow. Sometimes I have bad days. Sometimes things don't necessarily go my way. And those days, well...they are crappy.

I consider myself a people pleaser. I do things for other people that I sometimes don't really feel like doing. I go out of my way to make something easier for someone else. I try to follow the Golden Rule as much as I can. Why? Because I guess I just think it's the right thing to do. If I can do a little something, even if it might inconvenience me a bit, why not do it if it will make a significant impact on someone else? Or even if it's an insignificant impact, it's still an impact. And I swear to you, dear reader, that I don't do that hoping to get something in return. But I do, however, believe that the big karma bank will someday make a deposit back into MY account--or at least I hope it will. Sometimes I just want someone to go out of their way for me, you know?

Everyone deserves to be made a priority, and everyone deserves to have someone else throw a little sunshine their way. I don't think that's a selfish thing to want. I do have some selfish tendencies, but I TRY not to let my only-child demon out too often. (Even when it rattles the cage and scares the dogs)

Today I am just having a Poor, Pitiful Pearl Day. A day when I want someone, ANYONE, to justify the way I feel. To speak out and say, "It's perfectly fine to wallow in your self-pity today, Pearl. Here, you can even use my violin to play the world's saddest song..."

I just need to "Buck up, sista!"

Even though I don't really know if I feel like doing much bucking today. It's probably a mixture of crazy hormones mixed in with this melancholy feeling of insignificance, and like most things in life, "this too shall pass".

I just need to remind myself that it's okay to be Poor, Pitiful Pearl sometimes. As long as Fabulous, Sunny Tiffany comes back soon.

TDC

NYE, a National Championship, and The Crud

It's been a while readers. Or reader, as I should probably say! We are not only pregnant and unmotivated, we are also sick. (And I use the term we very loosely, as usual-especially on the pregnant part)

Let's start with New Year's Eve. My former NYE celebrations have consisted of one or more of the following: cocktails, H, live music, fireworks, friends, sore feet, and a hangover. This NYE consisted of only two of those things: H and friends. Although I must admit of all the things to carry into 2011, those are by far the best of the bunch! We had a wonderful and slightly uneventful NYE, which was totally okay by me. After a little lunch date with the ladies, I tagged along with them downtown to The Battlehouse Hotel.

Talk about luxury! This place is awesome--especially if you are just crashing the party and not paying the bill. The Battlehouse is only about 3 miles from our front door, and since I was the designated driver of the evening, I figured we might as well save our money and sleep in our own bed. I did not, however, want to miss out on girly time with three of my favorites so I hung out with them to gossip, giggle, snack, and get ready for the evening. H met up with us later, and he was (as usual) the lone dude in our group of fabulous gals! We saw the Moon Pie, but missed the drop. I heard some fireworks, but missed the show. Went to our usual stomping grounds, Boo Radley's, and didn't have a drink. And they didn't even a band, just a DJ that would play 30 seconds of a song before jumping to the next one on his playlist. Not my scene. But...we rang in 2011 nevertheless, made a run through the McDonalds drive-thru, and were asleep by 1!

And I woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the next morning!

The next week was back to work and back to reality! Boo! For some reason Mondays are just much easier when you know it's only followed by 3 more days of work rather than 4. But...life must go on. And the last time I checked our mortgage payment was still due on the 5th, so back to work we went.

And then it all went to hell in a handbasket quite quickly. H got sick with a cold, then he passed it along to his lovely wife. Now don't get me wrong, I can be a little needy when I get sick. I want to be cuddled and waited on hand and foot. But what's so wrong with that!?!!? Not a darn thing as far as I'm concerned. I wait on others hand and foot (not that I'm naming any names) so when I'm sick I like to be pampered. But apparently because SOME people got over their sickness pretty quickly (before passing a much stronger, crueler version along to me) I was supposed to bounce back like a tetherball as well. Except for the fact that I can't take meds like NyQuil or antibiotics to ease the pain.

Now is the time you should feel very sorry for me because I had some serious crud. I still have the lingering aftermath of it now, although I am feeling much better thanks to Tylenol products, lots of orange juice, and plenty of complaining.

And maybe one foot massage that I convinced H miraculously made my throat feel better, too. And my headache go away. :)

In the midst of my traumatic illness, Auburn played in the National Championship game. And in case you missed it or have been living under a rock....WE WON! Yay! I almost got a divorce because not only does my husband try to set my clothing on fire during an Iron Bowl, he also likes to cheer for Oregon. To which I say this, "If you don't know the capital of the state you should not be allowed to cheer for them in any capacity!"

Sidenote: Yes, we quiz each other on states' capitals and neither of us knew Oregon last time we played. We have weird games, what can I say?

But anywhooo....Auburn won! H can eat a turd! I think we should name the baby Cam Chizick Carrigan, what do you think?

Speaking of the bambino-It has been cooking for 16 weeks! I call it an "it" which people think is weird. But "Peanut" is just too conventional, and nothing else seems to fit. I call it Tupac sometimes, which I guess is kinda weird, too. We have chosen not to find out the sex of the baby, so I don't know if it's a he or she. So far the consensus is "he", but I haven't really had any sort of feelings leaning one way or the other. Although I feel like I would be more comfortable with a girl (cause we have the same parts and such) I would love to have a little boy for H and my dad. My dad has lived the past 28 years with just me and mom (God bless him, it would have killed a lesser man) so he deserves a lil dude to fish with. And H is already planning the kid's football, basketball, golf, and fishing outings so I know he's wanting a son. Pink or Blue, I don't care. Just as long as it's cute! I kid, I kid--just as long as it's healthy and looks like me, we're cool!

Happy (and Healthy) 2011!

TDC

What to Watch

Just as I promised, here is my wonderful list of what to watch on television! As if you didn't have enough people telling you what to do and where to do, let me suggest a few different shows that ARE worth your time.

Well, I guess I should say "are worth SOME of your time" because technically the less time we spend watching TV, the better off we will be. But if you are like me, sometimes you are just too tired after a 40-hour work week to do anything besides veg out and get some much-needed hours of relaxation compliments of your DVR. Ahhh...technology can indeed be our friend sometimes.

The Last American Cowboy--I stumbled upon this show on a new channel called Planet Green. It is awesome, and not just because there are cute cowboys in Wranglers. (Although that is never a bad thing!) The scenery of America's plains are truly God's country (no offense Auburn, ya know I love ya dearly) It is so vastly different than what we typically see in our neck of the woods, yet it is not hard to find the similarities. These cowboys have a work ethic that is pretty hard to come by nowadays. When you get an up-close view of what these wranglers are doing on a daily basis, you can easily see the relationships between man and beast, man and the land, and man and world for what it really is. This show is wonderful for the whole family--no cursing, no inappropriate dress or sexual innuendos--just pure, good reality television that is truly reality in the utmost sense of the word. P.S--The cowboys in Wranglers aren't bad either!

Glee--Now I realize that this show isn't for everyone, let me warn you. H would rather pluck his toenails out with a pair of pliers than watch 30 seconds of a musical, but for anyone who enjoys musical theater or music in general--PLEASE check this out if you haven't already. The music is awesome and I promise you will find it hard not to sing along. And even though some of the characters are quite different than what I was used to in high school, I have no doubt that it is a pretty good cross section of high school life today. I like the way the characters interact and I generally like the lessons of tolerance and acceptance they push.

Taboo--I am a big fan of NatGeo (National Geographic for those who aren't interested in learning more about life in general) and the wide variety of programs it airs. Taboo is one of my personal faves simply because of the craziness that lies in other people's homes and lives. There are people who eat paper, have sex dressed in animal costumes, put objects under their skin to make "art", and even live in Christian nudist colonies. I don't understand it, I don't want to understand it...but it fascinates me nevertheless.

Toddlers and Tiaras--Go ahead and laugh. I have no excuse. I was a former pageant participant, but minus a crazed pageant parent. I had the opposite problem--my parents didn't want me to do pageants. They thought they were a waste of money. But I loved them and I totally understand why these little girls are obssessed. You get to dress like a princess, win stuff, and show off in a front of a crowd. Who wouldn't want to do that!?!?! But the parents...ahhh the parents. The crazed Pageant Moms (and occasional Pageant Dad) are hilarious. If you ever wonder how a person can justify spending upwards of $5000 to POSSIBLY win $1000 (or a cheap crown or trophy) just check it out. And I am continually amazed at the amount of crap these parents will put up with. Don't get me wrong, I had a "mouth on me" too, but my mom would have smacked me into next week if I said some of the things those little divas say. It's a great lesson in "What not to do as a parent of an outgoing little girl who loves the limelight!"

Other faves without my two cents...
Basically anything on Bravo because I don't like my mind working too hard while I'm watching TV
Modern Family
Jersery Shore
The Best Thing I Ever Ate
Teen Mom
19 Kids and Counting
Dateline on ID
Big Love on HBO
True Blood on HBO

Now I understand that we aren't all alike. And you may not like what I like, and that's okay too. I would love to know what my friends are watching!