The Forbidden Call of the Other Side (of the Bed)

Something happened the other night that has totally altered the fabric of the universe in our house. I mean, completely changed everything. Black was white, night was day, cats were actually well behaved at 5am. It was total chaos. And now I'm not sure we can ever get back to normal.

See, Tony and I switched sides of the bed.

Maybe this is not a big deal for you. Maybe you switch sides all the time. Or maybe you sleep alone and diagonally if that's what floats your boat. But we? We do not change. Ever. No matter where we happen to be sleeping. There are RULES about these things.

You have to understand that Tony always sleeps closest to the door. Always. I told him that from the very beginning. I don't sleep closest to the door. My thinking is that if bad guys ever attack via the door, they have to go through him first. (Not that that would really make a difference, since Tony's such a heavy sleeper that the bad guys could climb on the bed and do the foxtrot on his chest and he would never even stir, but still I figure that gives me a few extra seconds to get the baseball bat ready). It's my little neurosis. I like to have a bad guy attack plan, and my plan is they have to go through someone else first. (I hear you out there. You're asking what my plan is if the bad guys come in the windows, or are already hiding in the closet? To that I say Shut up. One ridiculous paranoid psychosis at a time please). So hotel rooms, guest rooms, air mattresses in the floor. Tony always sleeps closest to the door.

The other rule is I always sleep next to the nightstand with the lamp, phone, glass of water, books, etc. That is because Tony uses the bed to go to sleep, whereas my nightly routines involve more baggage than Paris Hilton vacationing in the French Riviera. I need my book. I need a glass of water. I need a tissue. I need a spray bottle to spray the cat trying to drink my water and shred my tissues. It's all very complicated. And since our bedroom setup only has a space for a nightstand on one side of the bed, it's mine.

And this is all well and good. It's worked for us for years. Except for two nights ago. Because two nights ago we switched sides, and now I must confess that once we went through that door, we haven't been able to get back to where we were before.

See, two nights ago, one of the guys who works the night shift at Tony's company had a flat tire and was late showing up for work. And because he was late, things didn't get done that should have gotten done. And since Tony is in charge of making sure that things get done, he got called at about 3am to see what the people who were at work should do. And since the phone was on my side of the bed, that meant that I had to answer it. And pass it over to him. And turn on the light so that he could find his contact phone numbers. And sit there while he worked stuff out on a scrap of paper on the nightstand on my side of the bed.

Of course, one cannot blame Tony for this. He's just doing his job, and sometimes that job involves fixing problems in the middle of the night. But I must admit I was a little miffed when the phone rang again at 4am, and AGAIN at 5am and we went through the whole light, phone, contacts, my side of the bed routine for a second and third time. And Tony, perhaps sensing this (or maybe he was just alerted to the problem by my growling) suggested that maybe this once, for tonight, he should sleep on my side to be closest to the phone and the light and the nightstand so that my beauty sleep wouldn't continue to be interrupted. And I was just tired enough to glance at the door and just not care about bad guys. So we switched.

And it was great.

It was great because in addition to being closest to the door, his side is also closest to the bathroom. And since baby girl likes to rumba on my bladder about 40 times throughout the night, this was a real time saver not to have to stumble all the way around the bed when I got up. And it was great because even though the alarm is on my side, he's the one who uses it, so when it went off two nights ago, he just shut it off instead of me having to do it. Plus his side is closer to the window, which meant my pillow stayed nice and cool all night long.

Of course, I was sure that he'd want his side back again. We are, after all, creatures of habit. But when he mentioned that my side was incredibly comfortable and he'd slept really well over there (after the phone quit ringing anyway), I admit it gave me pause. Could we do it? Could we actually switch sides? I'd be giving up the nightstand and my water glass and reading lamp for the front line in bad guy attack, but at the same time, the idea of having toilet-front property was mighty appealing. And to not have to be the one to mess with the alarm? Switching definitely has its merits.

So I don't know. Last night we went back to our original sides, which are steady and established and I (literally) could maneuver around in my sleep, but I just can't seem to shake the thought of that new and exciting other side of the bed. It calls to me, that bad boy side of the bed. A little darker, a little cooler, a little more dangerous, but oh so alluring.

It could change bed time forever as we know it.

What Football, Zombies and Jungle Babies Have in Common

Wooboy, what a weekend! Our weekends seem to gravitate to either "we sat on the couch like sloths and did not move for 48 hours" or "we ran around doing all kinds of stuff every moment of the day until Monday rolled around and we needed a weekend to recover from the weekend".

(We're extremists. What can I say?)

This weekend I went with option number 2. My oldest and bestest buddy Nicole came in to visit, and having her in is always a hoot. I've known her since the 7th grade or so, and she was my college roommate freshman year, and even though we only get to see each other 4 or 5 times a year now, she's one of those friends where you can just pick up again where you left off without missing a beat. Those kinds of friends are worth their weight in gold.

Anyway, Nicole came in and we laughed and chatted and ate chili and I took her to Walmart, because that's just how rock star I am. (Come visit me, and I'll show you a time you'll never forget...buying a gallon of milk and some bar soap at the local walmart!) Actually, shopping with someone else (even for the mundane) turns out to be pretty entertaining. Nicole and I were standing in the middle of the aisle, sniffing body wash to find the best smelling soap for Tony (you know how you do), and I almost died laughing when Nicole sniffed too close to the bottle and got body wash all over her nose. Of course then I immediately squeezed my bottle too hard and ended up with a soap bubble up my nostril too, but what would have been a little embarrassing alone was absolutely hysterical with a friend. Plus we both were able to spend the rest of the day with our faces smelling like Dove soap for Men. (Whatever floats your boat, right?)

After walmart we headed down to Market Square for the world record attempt of having the most people dancing to Thriller at one time. I never pass up an attempt to dance like a zombie if I can possibly help it, and Nicole admitted that this has always been a life goal for her also, so of course we had to attend. When we arrived, there was a square full of zombies industriously learning the steps to the Thriller dance. Big zombies, little zombies, Grandma zombies, 4 year old zombies, bride zombies, boy band zombies, gruesome zombies and adorable zombies. Even dog zombies. They also had a booth set up where they would paint on your zombie makeup for you, and all around us I kept hearing snatches of conversation like, "I brought some extra boils...would you like some?" and "Here. Some of your bloody wound has smeared. I have some extra blood right here...let me touch that up for you". It was a hoot and a half to watch. Unfortunately, the website I checked said that the dance was at 5pm, but when we arrived at 5, they had changed the time to 7pm. (Bummer zombie). 5:00 we could have done, but the UT game was set to kick off at 7pm, so sadly we were not able to partake in the official zombie festival. (Oh, but definitely next year!) Still, we were able to stand around and watch the practice dancing for a while, and Nicole did accidentally get some zombie blood on her hand, so all was not lost.
After scouting out the undead, we headed down to the stadium to witness our beloved Volunteers take on Alabama. And while we were under no illusions about who was going to win (Alabama being ranked number 7 and Tennessee being ranked...well, in a rebuilding year), we still had a really good time. We had excellent seats, and our boys played well for the first half, so there really was something to cheer about even if we got thoroughly trounced in the second half. (In fact, we cheered so much that my throat is still a little sore today). All in all, it was fun being back there together again and cheering for the old alma mater. And win or lose, 105,000 screaming fans in orange is something to behold. (Besides, just you wait SEC. We may have a team full of inexperienced freshmen this year, but in another year or two (or three), we'll be someone to contend with once again).

On Sunday, Nicole headed back to her homestead for some annual quality Pumpkin Patch time with her son, and Tony and I dismantled the guest bed (for at least the next four or five years anyway) to make room for the crib and various other baby paraphernalia. The guest room has officially become the nursery. Guests are still welcome, of course, but you'll be sleeping on an air bed or the couch from now on (or at least until I have an epiphany and find a way to stash guests in the office or laundry room). I'm thinking maybe a murphy bed somewhere. We'll see how that works out.

Anyway, the nursery is A.DOR.A.BLE. The crib is beautiful, and we're doing a Jungle Babies theme. (I'll do a separate post on a nursery tour so that you can see several pictures). My mom did all the sewing, so she made absolutely every Jungle Babies thing in the room. (Mom is awesome. She's like, master seamstress. She's been sewing all night for weeks now, and she did everything from crib sheets to the diaper stacker to decopaged knobs for the drawers. Trust me, I'll show you, and you will be BLOWN AWAY). It's my favorite room in the house now.

So that was my weekend. Walmart, Zombies, Football, Jungle Babies. It felt a lot busier than it sounds, but it was also a lot more fun. I always enjoy a weekend where I spend most of my waking hours laughing. How was your weekend?

Hide and Seek

It's just like Where's Waldo, if Waldo was a cat hiding in your jeans drawer

What's In A Name?

Ever since finding out that we're having a baby girl, Tony and I have been on the hunt for possible names. Prior to this week, we hadn't really thought about girl names at all. (Not because we wanted a boy more, or didn't want a girl, but for some reason we automatically agreed on boy names. Girl names have just been a little harder). He said "eh" to 99% of my name suggestions, and I scrunched up my face to 99% of his. We went through baby name websites. We watched movie credits to look for possible names. Family members threw out suggestions.

Turns out that giving someone a moniker that they'll keep for the rest of their lives is HARD.

We have a couple of rules, too. No being named after exes, and no names of any pets that we know. (My mother, immediately after finding out it was a girl, suggested the name of her Yorkie. "Well sweetie, you were named after the family dog". Like that wouldn't cost me in therapy later).

There have been some surprises too. Tony and I were leaning towards the name Sydney, but when we mentioned it to the family, it turned out that my grandfather had a crazy aunt with that name. (I say crazy because apparently she stabbed her husband with a butcher knife. No one is sure if Uncle Stan had it coming or not, but nonetheless, that basically guaranteed that Sydney was out).

New rule: In addition to exes and pets, our daughter will not be named after any homicidal relatives.

So the hunt continues. Long names, short names, common names, unique names, Biblical or contemporary. It's a very important decision. Names shape your personality. (You ever met an outgoing guy named Herbert?) I want a name that will fit her. One that rolls pleasantly off the tongue. One that she's not ashamed of, or that kids can rhyme with something insulting, or that makes initials that spell something stupid. I want one that is common enough that people have heard before so she's not having to constantly correct people's pronunciation, but at the same time, I don't want her to be one of four girls in her class with the exact same name.

So we search, and trade lists of ones we like, and practice yelling them from one end of the house to the other. Good thing we still have several months to find the perfect one for her.

I'm curious. How'd you get your name? (I'm named after a girl my mother babysat when she was 12. She liked the name, so she gave it to me when I came along). Do you like your name? Do you use a nickname? Or go by your middle name? What's your name story, Interpeeps?

Thank Heaven For Little Girls

It's a girl! We're having a girl!

We just found out yesterday. Technically, the official "anatomy" scan isn't for a few more weeks, but I was in for my 16 week checkup and the technician said that it was very very obviously a girl. (Normally, they don't like to tell you this early since parts can be small and easily missed, but I poked my little monster in the head until she shifted position enough to present some very obvious girl parts to the camera. 99.9% sure, the tech said, so I'm going with that).

(And I shall call her "mini-me"). *Puts Pinkie finger up by mouth, just in case you missed the reference the first time*

I'm not going to lie. A girl is a shock. A good shock, but a shock nonetheless. I guess whenever I pictured having a baby, it was always a boy. I'm not sure why, but I've always only imagined a boy. (It wasn't that I necessarily wanted a boy over a girl...I was just sure that that's what we'd have and that was it).

A girl is good though. Tony's sister just had a girl too, and I know that they'll love playing whenever they get together. (Plus Jenny's already talking about passing along all her 0-3 month clothes that Ms. M has outgrown). And girls are sugar and spice and everything nice, right? Who can go wrong with that?

Oh my goodness, I'm going to have a daughter! It still blows me away.

Tony's thrilled, of course. And in so much trouble. She's going to have him wrapped around her little finger in no time. She's going to be Daddy's little girl, and he's not going to have any idea what hit him. I can't wait to see that.

My daughter.

The 700 Club

Guess what? This is my 700th post! (And you people are still here! That shocks and amazes me!) 700 entire posts of the serious, the mundane, the comical, the ordinary, and the individual little moments that make up my life.

Who would have thunk it?

You know, the infamous "they" say that bloggers are just digital voyeurs. They say that my generation feels the need to constantly draw attention to themselves by scrupulously recording every single thought and emotion and event that happens to them and sharing it with the world. They say we blog because we are whiny and emotionally needy.

"They" don't get it at all.

What you guys are are friends. Maybe friends that I've never physically met, or friends that live far away, but you're still friends. And blogs are just letters, telling my friends about my day, and finding out about yours in return. It's a community. My community. Of my friends.

So I want to thank you, my beloveds. Thank you for reading and commenting and sharing your lives with me. Thanks for the encouragement and the validation, and the laughs, and the thought-provoking messages that we share. I am a better person for getting to share with you, and having you share with me. Thanks for being there through 700 talks.

WW: But I Thought You Said I Was Your Baby!

We recently acquired an infant carrier for the coming addition, but I think the cats missed the point.

But I'm your baby, right?

Hey! What a great new sleeping spot! Thanks, guys!

It's Thursday, So Of Course It's Random

Ready for some randomness? You have come to the right place!

I'm seriously jonesing for some Chic-fil-a right now. Enough that I may even change out of my morning blog reading robe and actually put on enough clothes that they'll let me in the door. And yes, I'm sure there's plenty of stuff to eat here at the house that would 1) be cheaper and 2) be healthier and 3) not require a full wardrobe change, but I'm really leaning towards the "I don't care" camp. The chic-fil-a, it calls to me.

Mama needs some chicken with extra pickle on a buttered bun goodness.


Didn't I hear somewhere that pregnancy is supposed to clear up your skin and make your complexion look great? I seem to recall hearing that somewhere. (Or else I just made it up and convinced myself that I heard it somewhere else. Whichever). Either way, I'm not seeing it. In fact, I have two very lovely flashing red beacons that have just decided to time-share on my forehead. (Of COURSE you want to know about my blemishes! This kind of over-sharing is what the internet was made for!) Anyway, they're about an inch apart, and smack-dab in the middle of my head, so it looks very much like I was out stomping through the jungle with Bear Grylls and took a snake bite right between the eyes. It's a very peculiar look, and one that I'm hoping will catch on. "What? You're still doing Botox? You simply MUST try rattlesnake poison, dah-ling! One bite and wrinkles will be the least of your worries!"


Did you hear how Frito-lay is ditching the noisy Sun Chips bag? So many people complained that the company is going back to the old planet-choking bag for 5 of the 6 flavors. Only the original flavor will still be in the bio-degradable noisemakers. (Because only people who like the original want to save the planet?) Now, I admit that the crinkles were annoying and that Tony has officially banned my eating Sun chips in bed (although that may have been more about the crumbs than the noisy bag), but really? The ability to eat chips quietly trumps ecological stewardship? I have a feeling this is the kind of thing that future generations will look back on and roll their eyes about. "Yes, we live in a giant landfill now, but at least granddad was able to eat his chip quietly!" Sun chips should have made the noise a selling point, a "Crinkle for the Cause" if you will. Let everyone within a 100 mile radius know that you love the planet (and Sun Chips)! There could be bumper stickers: I crinkle because I care.


I'm thinking about cutting my hair. It is a very bad idea and I know it, but I'm thinking about it anyway. Just something to shake things up a bit, for I have been in what feels like an eternal ponytail rut. The problem is short hair does not work for me (my natural curl needs the weight to force it into submission…otherwise I end up with a little orphan Annie style ‘fro). But even though I KNOW I’m going to regret it, I’m still itching for a change. It is the siren call of sassy hair.


Alright, my lovelies (I threw that in just for you Nicole-may you be spiritual enough to accept it), the randomness has been fun but I must depart. There is cat food to purchase and stamps to procure. (And maybe some chic-fil-a in between...gotta keep my strength up, you know). It is an ever exciting life I lead.

The List

You know how you're in the house, doing whatever, and you realize that you're almost out of X product that you were doing the whatever with, and you're all, "We need some more of this. I need to write this down on the official Wal-marts list", but the list for the Mart of Wal is all the way in the other room so you're like, "Honey? Remind me to pick up some more X next time we're at Walmart" and he's all "Okay!" but you know he won't because he said it without ever taking his eyes off of the football game on TV so you know it went in one ear and out the other? And then later you ARE in the same room with Wal-mart list and you can't for the life of you remember what X was, even though you can remember that you need SOS pot scrubbing pads and more deodorant, although you already wrote those two down and you know, just KNOW that there was a third mystery thing? And you're like, "Honey? What was that thing that I said to remember?" and he's like, "SOS pads!" and you're like, "No. That wasn't it. You told me that we were out of SOS pads. What was the thing I told you?" and he's like, "Ummmmm. SOS pads?" so that's no help there. And for the entire rest of the day, the ghost of product X bugs you, taunting you from the very corner of your mind, until about 3am when you rocket out of a deep sleep and sit straight up in bed and shout "Febreeze Upholstery Spray!" at the top of your lungs, probably waking the neighbors, but who cares about them really since more than once their doofus teen-aged son has come home in the wee hours of the morning without his house key and awakened you with all his infernal door banging? And anyway, this is a moment because the prodigal brain has returned and brought the elusive Product X with it! It's all so clear now! You can remember anything! And you must share this triumph, so in all of your excitement you lean over and shake your dear sleeping list-forgetting husband and whisper "Febreeze!" in his ear so that he too can marvel at your amazing mental recall, only instead of celebrating with you properly, his way of marking this momentous occasion is apparently to just roll over in his sleep and murmur, "And SOS pads. Don't forget those".

10 Reasons

I saw this one on another blog and thought I'd give it a whirl. Beats what I was going to blog about, which was whining about how the football gods done treated my poor Tennessee Vols so, so wrong. (I'm still depressed. And yes, I'm taking it personally).


Here goes:

10 Reasons I'm Glad it's Fall:

10. Wearing jeans all the time now means I don't have to shave my legs as often anymore.

9. Boot season means you can get away with wearing that one pair of weird socks with the stripes that you purchased in a moment of temporary insanity and no one will ever know.

8. 2 words. Halloween Candy. I love a world where I can be anywhere in a grocery store and still be within two steps of the Twix fun size bars.

7. For better or worse, I still consider the hoodie the best fashion invention ever.

6. Sleeping with the windows open allows all the loose cat hair to blow out. It's like nature's way of dusting for me while I sleep!

5. Sweatshirts never need ironing.

4. Bonfires. And s'mores. And setting marshmallows on fire while you just eat the chocolate bar and ignore the graham crackers completely.

3. Crock pot meals! My idea of "home cooking" is tossing various ingredients into the slow cooker and letting that bad boy go to town for 8 or 10 hours.

2. All the weeds in my yard call it a season and give up the ghost (until next spring anyway).

1. There's always another football game next week. Even if a certain team played their little hearts out against LSU, only to win and then get it called back on a penalty for too many men on the field OF ALL THINGS. We had that stinky LSU team beat I tell you! But at least there's always next week.

How about you? Is it feeling like fall where you are yet? What's on your top 10 list?

Mama's Losin' It