How do you pack for.....

Summer in Alaska?

Summer in Texas?

A bridal shower?

A bachorlette party?

A wedding as a groomsman, matron of honor, and ringbearer?

A baptism?

A first birthday?

Why it's easy of course, you pack the whole house!

Now for the 7 hour non-stop flight alone with a 10 month old, stroller, carseat, and numerous other bags and suitcases....

It's that time of the month...

The three little days before you actually start. You stock up the bathroom cabinet. You pull the granny panties out from the back of the drawer. Then a little thought enters your mind...What if? It's the first thing you think about when you wake up. "Will today be the day?" Then it's not. Well it's ok- you still have two days on the calender before you really have to worry. Then the next day comes. "Today better be the day!"

And so it goes on until your (gasp!) two minutes late after midnight and you start debating whether you should go and buy a test or not. You're just freaking yourself out right? We were careful right?

I thought I was the only crazy one who did this. And believe me, the feeling gets wayyy worse when you've seen that one little plus sign and EVERYTHING that follows.(don't get me wrong, I love Chase more than anything, I just can't handle another one right now, or maybe ever...) Because while before it was just a thought, now it becomes an all too real a possibility. Apparently I'm not the only crazy one out there. My lovely kindred spirit who will remain nameless brought up this lovely topic when out to eat with our husbands. Both of them got a squeamish look on their face and I shouted out "YES! I know exactly what you mean!" While she does go through many more tests than I do, that feeling is still the same, I'm just too cheap to go buy a three pack, I just buy the generic and wait till I'm really really nervous to use it.

So it was that time of the month last week. I go to get an x-ray on my back (totally Chase's fault) and the x-ray technician is going down the list of questions.

"are you pregnant?"
"I hope not!"
"um ok so are you pregnant?"
"No sorry I shouldn't be."
"well if you are we have to know."
"Sorry I really don't think I am."
"do you need to take a pregnancy test? We need to know."
"No. Not pregnant. Really."

Poor guy was so confused. He must not be married. I started that night.

Side note - After checking chase's poop for a week the mysterious object has not been found. Now I have convinced myself they will find it in his stomach when he's 13 and breaks his arm falling out of a tree and he's the one getting an x-ray.

"I Guess We're Even Now"

Before we had time to make the first payment on Vivian....
I couldn't help it, I got used to pickup truck clearance. I thought Brian was going to kill me! I called him and told him Vivian had a boo-boo (yes good heavens I'm becoming a mom more and more). He says I'm not mad, I'm disappointed. Just like when you were 7 and your mom said that it was way worse than him getting mad and threatening to take Vivian away. Good news is it's pretty low and it's not all that noticeable.

The day after we make the first payment Brian comes in and asks me to come outside. Guess who had their first wreck? In my car? Guess who backed into the trash can?

A little more noticeable, but I haven't given him a hard time. He's punishing himself more than I ever could.

Last week I hear "Hey Britt Chase is standing on his own!" SMACK! WAAAHH!! If you let Chase fall on a fire truck he'll cut his eyebrow.

I'm outside pulling weeds and Chase is sitting out with me. In my picking I find a gross roundish blue/brown mysterious object. I kick it over to the side to pick up when I come around with the bucket. When I come back with the bucket I can't find it. That's about the time Brian pulls into the drive.

OMG Chase swallowed it and I don't even know what it was!! Blue piece of bubblegum covered in dirt? That's what I told my mom while debating on making my kid throw it up. That's what I told the on call nurse who had the nerve to take 7 minutes to call me back while my kid is digesting some potentially poisonous killing machine.

"Honey we don't ever recommend making your child vomit."
"WHAT IF IT'S POISONOUS?"
"Well you said it was a piece of gum."
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS! WHAT IF IT'S KILLING HIM?"
"Honey. His stomach acid will kill it. Even if he ate his own poop we wouldn't be worried."
"Oh. Good to know. Does that go for dog poop too?"

(Of course that night all I dreamed about was Chase eating his poop)
We haven't found the mysterious object in his poop yet. Brian thinks it blew away, I think he ate it.

I guess we're even now.