Friday

I had a plethora of ideas swirling in my head today about possible blog topics. And trust me when I tell you they were all equally fabulous.

To begin with the most obvious, I wanted to blog about my lovely mother and my feelings about my first-ever Mother's Day. H says it doesn't count but I totally disagree. I've been making wise, responsible, parental-y decisions based on Baby Charlotte for almost 9 months now so I definitely feel like a mom. And mostly a good one at that! But in the end I've decided to wait because I want to collect my thoughts and put together a perfectly eloquent tribute to the best mom around. As long as "best" doesn't involve a lot of cooking and scrapbooking. See...I come by it honestly.

My next thought was "I will talk about the death of bin Laden and why I'm proud of our President and staff for not making a mockery of a human's death, even if that human probably didn't deserve a decent burial." Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely glad he is dead. He was a terrible, vile, cruel, and heartless excuse for a man who truly didn't deserve to breathe air on this Earth. But to me, as an American, I am proud that our humanity and respect (even for those who don't deserve it) to man and animal alike is what sets us apart as a Christian nation. Let's make sure justice is served, but let's not forget the simple fact that if we do the same things we condemned our enemy for doing we are no better than them. But...I figured that was WAY to heavy for my lil 'ol blog. Especially for a Friday when my brain stops working and producing coherent thoughts around 10:30 am. (Which coincidentally is 2 1/2 hours into our weekly sales meeting)

Or I could tell you that we had the first baby shower last Saturday and it reminded me that originally my blog was going to be about Southern rules of etiquette in addition to home renovation stories and tips. Since then I have realized we lack some VERY vital ingredients to offer tips on home renovations--the money to actually DO them and the knowledge and wisdom to impart on someone else. Despite the fact that we are frequently naked and one of us might have been known to dance inappropriately from time to time in public places, I actually do know a bit about Emily Post's rules. I promise I'm going to revisit that topic very soon. (The rules part, not dancing inappropriately in public) I think we can all learn a thing or two about how to be a good host and a good guest!

I also debated on whether or not to write about The Wedding. I was a royal in my previous life, you know. I thought Kate was beautiful--the perfect Duchess if ever there was one. They looked happy and in love, and her dress was TO DIE FOR. I'm not a fan of sleeves but I think she converted me into a believer. My only wish is that I could go back in time and demand that guests wore hats to my wedding. I'm a firm believer that there just aren't enough opportunities in life to wear a fabulous hat.

Happy Mother's Day to all -whether you're a Mother, a mother-to-be, or just a mutha,
TDC

Name That Baby

Sound the trumpets! Alert the media! The baby has a name! After 31 weeks of incubating, we have finally reached a decision on what our little bundle of joy will be called. And it is....

Charlotte Day Carrigan

We hope you all like it! If you don't...PLEASE don't tell me because I've tried so hard to please so many different people and my emotions simply can't take another wishy-washy game of Name That Baby. (Mom, if you need to, re-read that sentence before you call me and tell me you don't like this name.)

Here are some of the reasons why we chose Charlotte:

1.) It is my grandmother's name and H's aunt's name so it has family meaning on both sides.

2.) There are no odd associations that either of us can think of when we think "Charlotte." For instance, H didn't know someone ugly in elementary school with the same name. And I don't have an archenemy named Charlotte. Most importantly, Charlotte is a name and not a word that means something else, which was H's argument against Dayleigh.

3.) It is easy to spell AND pronounce. Winning!

4.) It is a good, traditional Southern name. And you can pronounce it "Cha-a-lotte" when you wanna REALLY poor on that twang. And of course, I do like to do that when I reenact scenes from Gone With the Wind so I figured it would work for all situations.

5.) She will not have 6 other little girls in her class with the same name. I knew about 10 Tiffanys at Kinston, I had approximately 6 close friends named Nicole, and I've lost count of the Brittanys, Ashleys, and Amandas I know.

6.) Although it's not too common, she will still (hopefully) be able to find monogrammed cups, keychains, and other knick-knacks with her name on it when she goes to the beach for Spring Break.

7.) It sounds good with our last name because unless Prince William manages to get a divorce and find me in the Deep South, I'm sure she will have that name for a while. (Just kidding--kinda)

8.) I know a lot of great Charlottes--my Me-Maw Charlotte, Princess Charlotte of Monaco (Grace Kelly's granddaughter), the good-girl Charlotte from Sex in the City, the plucky spider from my favorite children's book....the list goes on.

9.) I can just imagine that she will look like a Charlotte. And that makes me happy.

10.) I'm all out of legitimate reasons, but I feel weird ending on "9" so....last but not least...because I like it!

One Cute Baby

My mom requested a blog about the goings-on at my doctor's appointment yesterday. Apparently it was pretty entertaining, even if you weren't actually there. Don't worry-there were no stirrups involved.


So yesterday I/we had my/our monthly OB/GYN appointment, and this one was pretty special because we had our last (tear, sniffle) ultrasound done before our lil gal arrives. Insurance only covers two ultrasounds throughout the entire 40 week ordeal which I find to be very aggravating and cheap, but the wonderful ultrasound tech, Mrs. Paula, gives new parents a "freebie" with their first child so we cashed in at yesterday's appointment.

And yes, I know that we could pay and have a 4D ultrasound done, but we are also cheap. I know, I know...people in glass houses, blah blah blah...

Anywhooo...back to the story. I am officially 30 Weeks pregnant as of today (yippee!) so we got to see Baby Girl Who Is Still Nameless in all her glory. And man was she cute! The first thing Mrs. Paula said was, "Look at how plump her lips are!" To which sweet H almost fell out of his chair laughing. You see, I have been known for many years on Dauphin Island as "Catfish" because of my rather plump lips. This nickname, which is still better than the one I originally had in high school regarding my lips, has been the butt of many a bar-room joke and more than a few impersonations. It has even given me a phobia of lipstick because it makes me feel like my lips are HUGE.

So then H proceeded to tell lovely Mrs. Paula about my nickname. And I cringed as I lay there on the table with my belly exposed to the elements.

Of course H and Mrs. Paula had a good laugh, and then we got back to the task at hand--looking at the adorable bundle of cuteness growing in my belly.

Seriously...cutest baby ever! (And I'm totally not biased at all!)

Mrs. Paula went on and on about how beautiful the baby was and what a perfect profile she had....all the while I just basked in the glory of my baby-cooking skills while I watched the monitor.

After the magic was over H and I joined a few other moms in the waiting room as we waited to see the doctor. I looked at him and said something along the lines of "She was SO freaking cute! You heard Mrs. Paula-she said she was beautiful and had a perfect profile!"

And then my husband, who will hereto be known as the Killer of Dreams and Ultimate Party Pooper of the Century says, "Well geez Tiffany, what did you think she was gonna say-that we had a troll coming in a few weeks? She tells everybody their baby is beautiful and perfect!"

And just to add insult to injury...the other moms in the room laughed at him! Trust me ladies, this man needs NO encouragement and the laughter just adds fuel to his fire.

And then I told him his presence was no longer needed and he could go on to the golf course.

But I STILL know our baby is absolutely adorable and she does have perfect profile and big 'ol Catfish Jr. lips. And I love her already-even if she doesn't have a name.

Another Random Thursday

I got a request from a fan of my blog (and don't worry, I don't really think my friends are "fans" I just like saying that cause it makes me feel good) to hurry up and write a new post! I was thrilled that someone actually cares about anything I have to say, although I've always thought my own opinion was pretty darn valuable! Unfortunately, I don't have much to say these days. Things are be-bopping along quite nicely with the pregnancy as I triumphantly enter my third and final trimester. 12 weeks or less until this sweet lil gal makes her appearance! We're pumped, excited, scared, worried, busy, broke, curious, petrified.....the list goes on but I'll just stop there. You get the picture I'm sure. With my mind completely absorbed by all things baby, I guess this might be one of those random posts about not much of anything important. Here goes! 1.) I need a tan. I was pasty before, which is the norm for me during the winter months. I don't really believe in tanning beds anyway, and of course I can't get in one now anyway. I like to worship the sun safely--with SPF 30 slathered on all exposed areas. Big looks better brown, didn't you know? I bought a baby pool for the backyard so I could tan in private. And then the temp dropped and my lab has gotten more use out of it than me. 2.) The upstairs "Guest Suite" that I chronicled earlier on my blog is now complete (minus the furniture). But I'm too lazy to upload the photos and share it with you. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna post them at some point in the next few days, but until then you will have to be content in knowing that I laid in the floor of my house for the first time in almost 4 years. And it was wonderful! 3.) The nursery is almost done! We are just waiting on the dresser to finally get here because apparently it has been held up somewhere between Mobile and the facility in Mississippi. It is only a 4-hour drive and I'm sure there are multiple delivery trucks going back and forth throughout the course of the day....but for some reason the dresser is delayed "In Transit." I guess that means someone in Mississippi is using it to store their moonshine or fighting roosters in it for the weekend's festivities. 4.) Facebook. Ahhh, Facebook. Why do people insist on putting such personal information on Facebook? I'm constantly amazed at the crap some folks will post. First of all, let me say that you are NOT going to win that boyfriend back by A) announcing via status update how much he's lost B) Telling him how pathetic he is for dumping your crazy tail and/or C) trying to guilt him into taking you back with sad posts about your lonely future. Whatever happened to "don't let 'em see ya sweat?" That was always my motto. Well, that and "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with!" 5.) I bought a Nook, which is an eReader similar to a Kindle. So far I love it, but I'm a weirdo that likes to read. That's about all I got today. This weekend is going to be full of golf and baby pool fun (if the weather warms up). The Masters is this weekend so I'm sure I will have to watch H's golf swing about a million times, plus hear him go on and on about the azaleas, Phil, Tiger, how cool it would be to play that course, how much he wants to go to Augusta, how he needs to quit his job and dedicate his life to golf so he can make the tour.... Although I wouldn't mind being drug along behind him to fancy private clubhouses across the country for cocktails, press parties, spa days, etc! Mom, I will even let you come along and be our nanny while we travel the circuit! What can I say, I'm nothing if not generous!

My Anniversary Gift

Our 4th wedding anniversary was March 17th (St. Patrick's Day!) and H went ALL OUT on the gift. And I'm not using any sarcasm when I say this either. The poor guy might have failed miserably on Valentine's Day for two years running, but I must admit he knows how to give good gifts when it comes to the most important occasions. He got me a delightful gift card to Nou Veau Salon & Spa. Although I've had massages in the past, I've never been here because it's a little on the pricey side. His gift card was over the top, but this pregnant lady NEEDED a good rub down! So I escaped to the spa on Saturday afternoon while he hit up the golf course. It was a win-win situation for both of us, what can I say! I got the "Mommy-To-Be" Massage and it was everything a massage should be. Relaxing, soothing, wonderful, etc, etc, et al. But....yes, I've noticed all my stories have a but. I'm really not a complainer, I swear to you. These are just a couple of random things I noticed while being groped by a woman named Yolanda. First of all, when you walk into the treatment room she says, "Please get as undressed as you feel comfortable, and get under the sheet." I immediately think, "As undressed as YOU feel comfortable, or as I feel comfortable?" If it were up to me, I would strip nekkid as a jaybird, tell her not to waste time with that sheet, and get to rubbin'....but I figured that might get be disbarred from the spa and therefore make the rest of my gift card amount null and void. Sooooo...I strip to panties and call it a day. Question: Is "underwear only" too naked? Should I have kept my bra on, too? Yolanda was wonderful, really she was. But she was a talker. And I as talkative as I am, there are some times when I just want you to shut up. The little Vietnamese ladies that do my nails? You know the ones--I feel no need to carry on a useless conversation about my day, my job, my family, my belly, or my weekend plans. Just paint my toenails, rub my feet, and let me read about Charlie Sheen in peace, thankyouverymuch. Same goes for Yolanda. As happy as I am that you thought you pooped on the table during childbirth, I just want to check out and relax for the next 60 minutes. Overall, it was a wonderful experience. If any dudes ever read this and find their wife/girlfriend/booty call in the family way--PLEASE buy her a Expectant Mother Massage. It will make her feel relaxed and loved, all at the same time! And on a totally different note: Apparently we are back to the drawing board with names. H informed me he wasn't crazy about Dayleigh. Personally I think the next time he pushes a baby out of HIS vagina he can name it whatever in the hell he wants to name it, but I guess that wouldn't be very nice of me. So.....Baby C is unnamed yet again! :(

LONG Weekend

Whew. I'm pooped! It's bad when you need to come back to work just to recover from the weekend. And that is especially bad if the weekend didn't even involve any alcohol beverages and Waffle House trips at 2 am!

My parents came down for the weekend and we set out to conquer quite a list of chores. H was working, so he foolishly thought he would be let off the hook. Little did he know....our kitchen sink and my dad had other plans.

Friday night we rode down to The Wharf in Orange Beach for the Zac Brown Band concert. I only go to few concerts every year, and most of them are Widespread Panic shows so this was a treat for me. Plus it's really nice to do something fun with the parentals every now and then. I realized my mom obviously hasn't been to a concert or sporting event in about 15 years because she was shocked and appalled by the $6 beers. Note to mom: Don't ever go to the Super Dome where Bloody Mary's are $12 and domestics are $8! The bleachers are much more uncomfortable when you are 6 1/2 months pregnant, but other than that it was a blast. And it was cute to see mom and dad snuggling and dancing to the slow jams.

Saturday morning, my parents where up with the chickens AS USUAL. Apparently no one ever told them that weekends are for sleeping in because they were up at the crack of dawn. Seriously--we had walked the dogs, gone out for breakfast, and taken showers before 8. Sigh. Unfortunately I will never break them of this habit. Trust me--I've tried.

Mom and I set out to register for baby items. It is just as much fun as it sounds! I'm not really much of shopper, it's just never been my cup of tea. I'm good for an hour or so and usually one or maybe two stores. But all day trips are just not for me. I think it stems from an incident in my childhood that I refer to as "The Living Room Curtain Debacle of '94". It was a terrible, horrific day of my life that involved my mom dragging me to multiple department stores in and around the Wiregrass area in search of living room curtains. We spent 9 hours looking at-you guessed it-curtains. And we went back to the same stores more than once to "get a second look" at things. I eventually passed out from exhaustion in the floor of Dillards and got a good 2-hour nap.

It took me an hour to pick out my wedding dress, if that tells you how hard that whole experience was for me.

Anyway....back to my point. She really helped me with the registeries because if it would have just been H and I, we would be lost. As a matter of fact, our first trip to Babies R Us should have been filmed we were so clueless! So now we will have a ton of stuff, even if we don't know how to use half of it! Who am I kidding--I don't even know the purpose for half of it! And mom had me registering for everything under the sun. I bet the CEOs of Graco and Walmart are sitting in their plush offices having a good 'ol laugh at the suckers who find it necessary to buy some of this stuff. And then they go out on their yachts and toast to my mom--the lady who thinks it's necessary to buy a mesh sack to wash baby clothes in. Because obviously you can't just put clothes in the washing machine!

Meanwhile back at the ranch...dad was busy fixing a leak in our kitchen sink, which I thought meant replacing the washer in the faucet. I came home to discover my husband and dog under the house and half of the backside of it laying in the yard. Apparently our drain pipe was half rusted through and the contents of our garbage disposal have been piling neating under our house for the past few years. Yum.

After MANY enjoyable hours of my dad (the perfectionist) and his son-in-law (still tired from his night shift the previous night) working on the pipes AND 7 trips to the local hardware store, everything was patched up and ready to go. I bought pizza for my labor crew and they settled in to watch a bootleg copy of True Grit while I hit the hay at the exciting hour of 9 pm.

Woo hoo for Saturday nights!

Good thing I went to bed early because I was up early AGAIN the next morning. But sadly not early enough to catch the sunrise trip to Krispy Kreme donuts that our two houseguests took. So mom and I walked the pooches while daddy did a final inspection on his handywork from the day before.

And lo and behold...the dang pipe was leaking again! Arghhh. It's enough to make a saint cuss--and he did, actually! But after one trip to Lowe's and about 3 more hours worth of work--the pipe was repaired and the giant gaping hole in the back of my house was patched. Patched with plywood, but it was patched nonetheless.

Then mom and dad got the heck out of dodge before he found another task to tackle.

And I promptly took a 2 hour nap to recover from my hard job of supervising the repairs.

Overall, it was really a great weekend. Dayleigh's room is painted, furniture is en route as I type, and the registries are DONE. I kid and joke and give them a hard time, but it's always great when I get to see my parents. I love them dearly and they provide some nice perspective into the Hysterical District. Plus my mom likes to clean, which is an added bonus!

And she can always find some dog hair to sweep up!

Consignment Shopping Mishaps

Consignment Shopping: The verdict is in and it's not for me.

I had a very interesting first-time consignment sale experience that probably doesn't really show me in the best light. But....the truth will prevail, I suppose.

After listening to countless mommy friends talk about the wonders of consignment shopping, I really and truly thought it was going to be the best thing since sliced bread. In my consigning dreams I imagined beautiful pink smocked dresses just waiting to be monogrammed with little Dayleigh's initials, scores of miniature Ralph Lauren Polo dresses and onesies, and cheap furniture without a single scratch or dent.

My dream was a little off.

I don't want to sound like a snob. Trust me, I am not. I have clothes from Walmart that I sport just as proudly as a dress from The Limited. We have a pretty strict budget that I am learning to stick to, even though budgets are hard for me. So basically I want to preface this by saying it's not the fact that my darling will be wearing some other little girl's dress. I just don't like the atmosphere of digging through racks and racks of crap to find a treasure. Some folks love a good treasure hunt. I don't. I like it when the treasures are neatly laid out in plain sight, I pick it up, buy it and get the heck out of dodge quickly.

I'm just not a shopper.

Since I was not a cosignor (meaning I didn't have any baby clothes to sell in the market), I had to actually volunteer to work--get this--8 HOURS of my life in order to shop the pre-sale. The pre-sale allows you to shop before the actual event opens to the public, i.e. before all the adorable smocked dresses get picked over and I'm left to choose between a stained Miley Cyrus onesie and bloomers with no ruffle. (God forbid, my child MUST have ruffles on her little diapered booty) As much as I questioned giving up such a huge portion of my life to volunteer where other people can make tons of money, I was disillusioned by thoughts of cheap baby clothing and stuff that my unborn child simply could not live without.

So I pre-shopped the pre-sale. It was scary. And that's an understatement. First of all, I was grossly unprepared and that was obvious when I was the only gal without an Olympic-sized shopping bag or my clothes basket to carry my loot in. I walked in carrying my Blackberry and keys. First fail.

Then I elbowed my way among women with no bras, women with crying children who also didn't want to be up at that time of morning, and more than one mullet. I found a few smocked dresses, a few Polo outfits (stain-free, score!), but no cheap yet beautiful furniture that was longing to live in my delightful nursery. Sure, there was furniture. But it was mainly odds and ends that would have taken much more interior decorating prowess to bring it all together than I currently possess.

So basically I spent about $60, and had to donate 8 hours worth of time. That equates to $7.50 a hour worth of stuff I bought. And honestly...it wasn't worth it.

But then something terrible happened.

I blew off my scheduled work time. Oops. (Insert evil grin here)

I actually went to the market to work my first hours, then realized there were more volunteers than shoppers. So I quietly crept out after only staying about an hour of my 4-hour shift. Don't judge me! I work a 40-hour week and the last thing I want to do after I get off work is go to more work--especially work I don't get paid for.

And then later I discovered the director of the market does a roll-call at the end of the evening. Damn. Second fail. So I faked an illness circa my college days by pouring on a few sniffles and sounding extra pitiful.

And it worked!

But then, as time wore on, my Baptist guilt (much like Catholic guilt--or really any sort of religious guilt I guess) started to weigh on my conscious. I felt terrible for taking advantage of the pre-sale, even with its assorted masses and lowly finds, and not putting forth the required work.

So what did I do?

I spent last Saturday working the 75% off sale, CASH ONLY consignment sale that benefitted the American Cancer Society and the Mitchell Cancer Center. I felt needed because there was only a small handful of volunteers (like 3 of us) and the crowds were large and in charge. And my conscious breathed a BIG sigh of relief.

Hopefully I have made amends and my karma, or juju, or whatever you want to call it is all right again.

At least until next time. :)

Learning lessons one day at a time,
TDC