I cry Uncle. I am throwing my hands up in the air. I need help.

What did I do to my sister’s blog? You can’t leave a comment now and I fear it is my fault. I promise I used a template that is 2.6 compatible. All I did was tweak it so that it was pretty.

Can anyone help me?

And while we are at it, what is it about the archives that isn’t working correctly on my blog. If you click on one of the names under “recent comments” it take you to page cannot be displayed.

[whimper]help me[/whimper]

First kiss: Jeremy in 9th grade.
First real kiss: Jeremy, again.
First job: Babysitting the Schmidt?s hellboy, Kyle. The first time I ever sat for him, he put the cat in the oven that was coated in oven cleaner! The cat?s fur burned off in some spots.
First screen name: princessalli76
First self purchased album: New Kids on the Block- I love Joey!
First funeral: Some old lady at our church in Arizona.
First pets: Hilagus (sp?), my parents? dog. She had to go to a farm when my youngest sister came along.
First piercing: Ears, age 5. It became a family tradition.
First true love: um?do I have to answer every one?
First big trip: I remember taking a trip to Savannah from Lexington, VA via train. That was a blast.
First musician you remember hearing in your house: Probably my mother.
Last big car ride: What constitutes big? I guess going to the Lake for the 4th of July.
Last kiss: D, yesterday, I think. Or one of the dogs, this morning.
Last good cry: Yesterday.
Last movie seen: In a theater- Anchorman. At home- Shawshank Redemption.
Last beverage drunk: Water, water, and more water.
Last food consumed: Breakfast bread.
Last phone call: My parents in Ohio calling to give me their new phone number. And no, you can?t have it.
Last TV show watched: The last whole TV show was The King of Queens, last night. This morning The Today Show was on while I got ready for the day.
Last shoes worn: Black slides.
Last CD played: Barenaked Ladies, Everything to Everyone
Last item bought: Strawberries & Cr?me Frappuccino at Barnes & Noble.
Last disappointment: still can?t talk about it.
Last soda drunk: probably a Sprite
Last ice cream eaten: A Klondike Mini (though is it still a mini if I ate 3 of them in a row?)
Last shirt worn: Black with white collar Mommy & Me brand.

This simple questionarie was blantanly ripped off from the fabulous MelWadel. Thanks Mel!

Not much else going on. Work is very slow today and this helped pass the time.
Today is the day that I predicted Bob & Michelle would have their baby boy. I don’t think I was correct, but there are still a few more hours to go.

Ladies…do you have to have that one particular designer handbag to absolutely make the girl? How much extra income do you have to waste? Well, look no further!

Thanks for the info from notmartha.

Dear John,
Sorry I didn’t recognize you when you popped in on Saturday. But I must tell you that from what I had previously heard or read, your visits are supposed to be painless. (I guess that shows what The Internet knows.)
Now that we have had a few more visits and I can recognize you, let’s talk about these little surprise pop-ins.

1. If I am at work and talking to someone about work related topics, please hold off until I am sitting at my desk doing something that isn’t work related- like reading other people’s blogs.


2. If I am sleeping, please wait until after 6 am to drop by. Waking me up at 1 am just ain’t cool. Do you know how hard it is to get comfortable again when the house is about the same temperature as an easy-bake oven and any movement from me makes the dogs think it is time to get up? Plus when my brain reaches conciousness my bladder then sends a Red Alert that I must answer by going to the restroom. So, if you stay away until 6 am, then I have a better chance of getting a restful night of sleep.


3. Let’s keep the visits where you take my breath away to a minimum, please? Pretty please with sugar on top?


4. And don’t freak me out by dropping by more than three times an hour. Anything more than that and I will have to call Dr. G. Again, that just ain’t cool.

Glad to meet you and everything, because it means that my body is getting ready for the big day, but if we follow these few simple rules, our brief relationship will be a happier one.

Always,
mrscrumley & the gummy bear

P.S. Where do you get off getting a pregnancy side effect named after you? Shouldn’t you have named the contractions after the woman who was your patient and you realized what she was describing? It’s not like you would have known what the heck she was going through if she hadn’t been able to assist you.

When I was in college I had these guy friends who like to “joke” about a woman’s place in marriage/ the home. When these conversations came up, inevitibly so would this joke:
Q: Why did the pregnant woman cross the road?
A: Who let her out of the kitchen and where did she get the shoes?

Well, I have a question… where did she get the shoes? And if she was pregnant, were they shoes that were her normal, pre-pregnancy size or were they purchased a size or two larger, because some women’s feet grow a size or two during their pregnancy? Were they still comfortable at the end of the day or did she beg to be barefoot by 5 pm after being up and about all day?

I kept myself very busy yesterday afternoon- I cleaned, rearranged clutter, washed my car, went grocery shopping, and reupholstered a chair seat. When I sat down around 9 pm I had no ankles. I couldn’t fit my feet into a pair of shoes if I had wanted to.

I have purchased 2 pairs of shoes this pregnancy- both a size larger than my pre-pregnancy size. And now I am finding difficulty fitting into those shoes. This morning my ankles returned, but I look at my shoes with dread. I know I have to wear them to work- it is part of the company dress code and I think there is something about OSHA in there too- but I really wish I could be barefoot.

The phrase “barefoot and pregnant” has taken on a totally different meaning to me. It used to be a deragatory phrase. It meant (to me) that women should be only in the home, making babies and why would they need shoes because they had no reason to go anywhere.

Now “barefoot and pregnant” means a state of finding comfort during an otherwise uncomfortable time. I may still have to purchase another pair of shoes to wear to work, but I promise they are coming off my feet as soon as I walk in my back door.

I have to take the Glucola test today and I just took my first swig of the stuff. I have to say, it is not as bad or as sweet as everyone has said it would be. To me it tastes like normal Orange soda.
Let’s see if I pass this test, shall we?