Friday, October 26, 2007

It's a Classic Man Shoe

So Caleb has been wanting a pair of top siders for awhile, and I have not been able to understand why. We do not have a yacht, neither of us sail, or wear whites to Saturday afternoon tennis... so why would he need a pair of top siders? Well, he got some....

And was very excited to get to wear them without socks. He said he was gonna walk into a meeting at work and put his leg up on a chair like this...

This picture is a re-enactment, last night when he demonstrated he attempted to put his foot up on the island. This was a bit ambitious which is how this happened...

See the large crack where the corner of the island almost broke off? Yeah... cool.

So I still don't know why we needed top siders. His only explanation is that "It's a classic man shoe." All it's gotten me is a stinky, no-socks boy running around my house and a broken island.




Baby Response Drills

The events of this morning....
Caleb refuses to turn on the heat at night, which means by about 5 am it's pretty frickin' frigid in our house. I, unfortunately, have to get up first and hi tail it to the shower where I have taken to standing for much longer than need be in order to avoid having to get out of the delightful warm water and step into the 55 degree bedroom. Today I was standing there as usual, and remembered that I have been cutting it pretty close getting to work on time, and wondered to myself "Self, I wonder what time it is." Since Caleb is usually still in bed at this time, sometimes awake, sometimes asleep, I said a very tentative... "Hey, Caleb?" Just testing the waters. There was no immediate response, but then all of a sudden the bathroom doors were thrown open with reckless abandon and Caleb appeared looking as if I had just yelled "I'M HAVING THE BABY IN THE SHOWER!!!" I felt bad because he was obviously worried something was wrong, so I sheepishly said "I just wanted to know what time it was." He rolled is eyes at me and headed back to bed where he yelled "It's 7!"
I thought this was very funny, and you might think that is mean, but let's go back a little further in time to about 5am. I am sleeping a lovely deep cozy sleep, possibly even dreaming. All of a sudden, I am rudely awaken but my beloved bed buddy going "Aren't you cold??" Now I ask you, if I were cold would I have been sleeping so peacefully? He then tries to discuss with me, at 5am mind you, how he wants part of the sheet I am under because his poor soul only has a quilt. But it's 5am and I'm 8 months pregnant, buddy, and you're getting NOTHING from me... I am going back to sleep! Which is what I did. He apparently got out of bed and put on sweat pants, a sweatshirt, and wool socks. This is why when he appeared in the doorway of the bathroom wearing the aforementioned warm clothes, I did not feel bad about pulling him from bed, but instead a wicked little grin spread across my face!

Monday, October 22, 2007

Proof Pregnancy makes you a little Ditzy

I usually cut through our lobby to get to our break room at work. This requires using my entry card b/c I have to exit one door and then swipe it to get back into the building on the other side. Today, I was going to make tea so I had my entry card in one hand and my tea bag in the other. When I got to the other door I attempted to swipe what I thought was my entry card, but was in fact my tea bag. This would not really be a big deal, except I didn't just do it the once. I stood there for a solid minute, swiped my tea bag at least 10 times, and even walked back to the phone to call Janet to let me in because my card was broken. Luckily, I caught myself before making it that far. So hope you're enjoying the blood flow Blythe, I could use some to my brain every now and then if you can spare it!

Monday, October 15, 2007

To Clay Rozell, in response to his unjustified attack upon an injured man

I got your comment...and I know where you live.

And don't be bitter and surpised when Rev stops eating his green beans, brocolli, asparagus, peas, bok choy, collard greens, dark green leafy lettuce, kale, mesclun, mustard greens, and watercress.

You'll know where to point the finger.

IM conversations from Work

SmilyCourt = Courtney supercollider17 = Caleb
SmilyCourt: so i was looking back through my sent folder
SmilyCourt: cause i know i sent the list to you
SmilyCourt: but man, do i send you a lot of pointless and random emails
SmilyCourt: i apologize
supercollider17: I delete all of your emails
supercollider17: its ok
SmilyCourt: ha
supercollider17: i have too
supercollider17: weekly
supercollider17: cause you send so many
supercollider17: "pointless and random emails"
SmilyCourt: don't quote me and act like it's not an insult

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Quotes of the Weekend

"Don't take me into your meat consideration."
-Benjamin Cooper

"I came out of there smelling like soy sauce and regret."
- Caleb with an assist by Mikey G

Monday, October 8, 2007

I Fear the Dog may be Smarter than Me

I was just duped by Sasquatch Puppykins during lunch...
Here's a little background on Sasquatch for those of you who don't know her.


She's a 100lb. what we guess to be Newfoundland/some sort of Shepherd, black furry mutt. She believes she is an inside dog that only goes outside at her own choosing, which is oddly only when we are at home, and only if we leave the door open so that she can come back in whenever she pleases.


She stayed inside this morning, and I went home at lunch to let her out where it was my plan she would stay for the afternoon. So I went outside with her for a minute to throw the ball with her and show her how fun it was to be outside. I throw the ball a couple times and she brings it back. Then on the third time I throw the ball and she just kind of stares at me. This is not new, I don't know if she doesn't approve of how I throw the ball or where I throw it, but occasionally she ignores certain throws. So when this happens I try and point and re-enact the throw to make her go get it, but usually end up going to get it myself... which is what happened today. So I say the inevitable "Fine, I'll go get it." and walk past her to get the ball. As soon as I walked by her she yapped her jaws at me (we taught her not to bark so she just does the motion now) and I swear to you it sounded just like she goes "HA!" and then sprinted into the house. So I stood in the middle of the yard smiling and shaking my head for a minute, because I must confess she completely got me. Somehow she rigged it so that I was the only creature in the backyard fetching a ball.
So you may say, well why didn't I just make her go back outside??
Because the brat plays possum. She runs as far away from the door as possible then lays down and lets her body go completely limp. Then she lets you drag her all the way to the door, but is too proud to actually get dragged outside, so she'll stand up and walk the last 3 steps. Before I had a 15lb. bowling ball strapped to my waist I would have dragged her, but now I can't. So I left her happily laying on her bed with a smug "I win" look on her face.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

Death by Endo

What started out as a quiet Saturday afternoon bike ride, quickly turned into an impending disaster. Riding while tethered to a 100 lb. highly motivated mutt may not be the epitome of bicycle safety.

As a car passed, I pulled Sasquatch closer to me shortening the retractable leash connecting us. After the car passed and she surveyed the open road ahead, she went from a gentle stride into a dead sprint, as if running from the devil himself. It was then and only then did I notice that what should have been a quickly extending leash, wasn't extending because sometime during the retraction it had become locked in place and had conveniently slipped under the left side of the handle bar.

In the next 7 seconds, realizing what was about to happen, the world went silent. Sasquatch unknowingly turned the front wheel of my speeding bicycle 90 degrees to the right. As you might imagine, this stopped the bike, sending me head first over the handlebars. Sadly, I was only a fraction of a second from finishing my torpedo barrel roll perfectly and landing only my shoulder. Instead I left part of both my hands on the pavement and then bruised my shoulder.

But, having the incredible tolerance for pain that I do, I propped my windless lungs off the ground, picked the bike up and bloodied my grips. No endo was going to stop my afternoon.