Little Spam King

Listen here you little newb piece of shit. Why don’t you stop playing around before you get yourself trouble. You are obviously some stupid kid connecting from the Anchorage School District in Alaska. Don’t make me track your real name down and come up to kick your ass.. or maybe I’ll just tell your SysAdmin. You know this could be considered a Crime and schools are serious about crime these days! So stop hoping from one computer to another in your school’s PC lab. Step up and use your own box at home. Then you’ll see what happens. Punk Bitch.

-Trent

This Old House

I am living with the human version of Tim “The Toolman” Taylor. Trent has now become the King of Home Renovation. Not only has he patched the holes that were allowing plants to grow inside the house, but he has now redone the floors in the nursery-to-be. Though my baby may come out with three ears from the fumes, the floor looks glorious! No more pink carpet for my offspring!

I also would like to draw attention to the fact that Trent has an uncanny resemblence to Bob Vila. Totally hot.

V-Day Love Letter

Dear Bearded Wonder,

What a year it has been. Yesterday you told me when you first met me, you thought I was the kind of person that would always have unique decorations and artwork on the walls of their home. Apparently you thought I was artsy and creative. Well, first impressions can be deceiving. But I bet you don’t know anyone who can fit 312 framed photographs on four shelves. Now THAT is creativity.

I bet you also didn’t think you’d be spending a large portion of your life watching reruns of Friends. I’m sure you thought we’d be going to independent movie houses to watch international films with subtitles instead of learning, once again, that Joey really likes sandwiches and Chandler didn’t make the ice dancing team in high school. You put up with my obsession with only a little growling, which I greatly appreciate. I know it’s the most annoying habit, but you let me get away with it. Just like how I never can seem to fully screw the lid on food containers or how I always leave just enough juice in the carton to quench the thirst of a small mouse. You love me, so you let me have my compulsions.

We’ve changed quite a bit in the past year. Last year at this time, I really wasn’t sure where our paths were leading. I just knew that I loved you, and I hoped it would be enough. We had a fantastic summer: Getting Molly from the shelter, drinking lethal amounts of alcohol at Royals games, moving in to the new house, changing jobs, starting your business, drinking lethal amounts of alcohol on a river [stream] in Arkansas while sporting a neck-coozy and straw hat, playing volleyball and drinking lethal amounts of alcohol on our God-awful rec team, going to concerts. It really was some of the most fun I’ve ever had with you. Perhaps someone up there knew it would be our last truly irresponsible summer and wanted to make sure we took full advantage. I’m glad we did.

Then there is the serious stuff. The unexpected pregnancy. The decisions that followed. I won’t go in to the scary stuff too much, but it was an amazingly difficult time. And I was inspired daily by your attitude and your positive outlook on our situation. You’ve always looked for an answer to our problems, which always seemed to lead to a solution. Even if that solution is to get the damn woman some cheesecake before her eyes melt into the back of her head!

You’ve helped me get through the past year with humor and grace, and I’m so excited for this year. 2006 is “The Year of the Bean” also known as “The Year of Taquita” or “The Year of the Belly.” I’m sure we have many more weeks of unexpected flatulence, teeth-grinding, and emotional outbursts involving chocolate. You are going to be such a good daddy. I think that’s what I’m most excited about, watching you with your daughter, and seeing how she helps us to grow even more than we ever thought we could.

Someone told me the other day that they thought it was so strange that I was married. They just couldn’t wrap their head around the fact that I was actually MARRIED. TO A BOY. TO YOU. The weirdest thing is that I’ve never really thought of it as strange. It just feels so natural. Like we’ve always been married. We just didn’t realize it yet.

Happy Valentine’s Day. I know this isn’t a flat-screen, or decorative wall ornaments, but I hope this shows how much you mean to me.

Love,
Your Baby Momma

Losers

I have come to two conclusions:

When a restaurant forgets to give you your pickle, and you wait until you get home to check the bag, you really have no one but yourself to blame for the missing pickle. Always check your bag!

Not having cable is a horrible thing. When you’re watching British countrymen raise some giant wooden structure on pulleys on PBS, well, that’s when you really realize how low you have sunk. Even more so when your husband begins to get very excited about this particular show, because he’s realized it’s all about creating some medival weapon. Damn, we’re cool. I really can’t believe we don’t have more friends. Seriously.

Blizzardy

So yesterday we had our first Kansas (or Missouri, whatever) big snow of the season. And it was a doozy!

Snow Day 8.jpg

Photos courtesy of Mikayla, otherwise known as She Who Sucks My Left Toe Because She Got To Stay Home Today

Like, a foot of snow on the ground this morning. And of course, my car is in the shop, so the one formally known as the Bearded Wonder who is now attempting to return to his bearded glory had to take me to work. We all know how much the former Bearded Wonder hates the world before 10 a.m., but today he was like a kid with a new video game where he can shoot people on the street!

Snow!

Jeep!

Pealing out!

FREAKING OUT THE POOR PREGNANT WIFE!

From last night:

“I’m sorry you have to take me tomorrow, I know how much you hate the sunlight.”

“Maybe you should just take the bus.”

“You would make your pregnant wife take the bus to work in a foot of snow!”

“Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that!”

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