Mama and Papa Kegs...

...are en route to Austin!  This picture was clearly taken several years ago, before Double Chin arrived. 

As I'm sure you recall, Mama Kegs was here about a month ago for a cheer-up-Ali trip, but I haven't seen my dad since my baby shower in Boston (October) so we are excited he is also coming.  See below for a text I received from him when we arrived in Boston in October.  Personally, I think it's pretty impressive that he knows how to text AT HIS AGE (just kidding haha!!!), even if he doesn't know how to text numbers:

"We are in rm EIGHT OH FIVE  XO"

Love it!

In Logan news, as of an ultrasound this morning, the boy is still breech!  LOGAN!  The sonographer said at this point she doesn't see many babies his "age" turn the right way, and I guess his cute little bum is W-E-D-G-E-D in my pelvis.  So, it's looking like a C-Sec for Austin Ali, unless Logan decides to get really ambitious in the next few weeks.  We have another doc appt tomorrow with another ultrasound (stupid diabetes!) with my regular doctor so we shall see what she says.  (Most people get 1-3 ultrasounds throughout their entire pregnancy; Willis and I counted and I will have had 15+ by the time Baby Logan is said and done.  Thank goodness for insurance!)  Poor Logan never gets left alone.

Why do these cashews I'm eating taste like fish? 

38 more days.....

Double Chin has gotten so big that he's started talking!  We are so proud of him.  He wanted to wish a special someone a HAPPY BIRTHDAY....  someone by the name of Janet E.!  Please note Janet E. is not to be confused with Sheila E., although now Austin Ali thinks Janet should go by "Janet E." and not just Janet.

Sheila E. also wants to wish
Janet E. a Happy Bday

According to the Improper Bostonian, Janet E. and Kari C. were at 75 Chestnut and then The Sevens last night in Boston.  Double Chin is just mad that he didn't get invited!  He's smooth with the ladies.

In other news, Willis and I just returned from brunch where we had a super annoying waiter.  You know, one of those types that have the same 4 lines they use on every table?  "Welcome to my patio" and when you order decaf, "one non-Kryptonite coming right up!"  Ew.  Willis said there's a guy at the driving range (Driving Range Guy) who answers the same way every time you ask him how he's doing, so Willis says he just stopped asking him how he's doing.  When Willis would ask, "How's it going?" Driving Range Guy would answer, "gets better everyday!" so now Willis just says "hi" and enjoys watching him squirm, dying to say his line.

Willis, Double Chin and I are about to go see Gulliver's Travels, so DC and Ali have to go hop in the shower.  Peace out everyone!

I'M NOT COMFY!

You really missed quite a performance last night.  Complaint #46,543:  Now my tailbone feels like someone has smashed it with a sledgehammer, so it's hard to find a good seat anywhere in the house.  So, I thought I'd try my luck watching TV from bed.  Clearly it went well.  I tried a variety of different areas in the bed, but sideways by the edge won in the end.  

Below you will find the cast of pillows that were in the show.

Main character:

• Snoogle - Roomie loves her Snoogle; mine has lived on the floor for the last few months because I just.couldn't.deal.with.it's.tangled.mess.of.a.shape.  I'm giving him another chance.  He worked for about 4.2 minutes last night, which is a good run in comfort these days, so I think he's back in the rotation.

 Supporting cast:

• 2 wedge pillows - one for the front bump, one for the back bump.  The other night Willis was using my fave wedge for head support and he said, "what's that smell?  It's like a baby powder smell or something.  I like it."  And I said, "oh that's the Clarins shit for stretch marks that also doesn't work that you paid over $55 for that has rubbed off on the pillow."  Willis seemed a little grossed out at first but then said, "well it smells nice."
• Airplane neck pillow - never underestimate these little gems with the hole in the middle.  It's like having one of those blowup donut pillows they sell at CVS, but you don't feel like such a loser using it. 
• Logan's Boppy pillow - I figured if it's good enough for him, maybe I should try it out.  It's INCREDIBLY itchy... I still have to wash the cover.  Add that to the list.
• Old "for show" roll pillow from Boston guest room comforter set - this guy has really come up from behind and proven to be a real winner in terms of back support.  It matches nothing I have in the house since I donated the comforter back in Boston, but I'm keeping him around.  Pink stripey.
• Big White Body Pillow from Bed Bath & Beyond - I had my doubts about this guy at first because it only set me back $10, but boy is it comfy.  He's proven to be the real steady eddy throughout the last 6 months or so, which has won him a spot in the bed every night:

He gets to snuggle every night because he is just.that.good.
Big White Body Pillow from Bed Bath and Beyond, I love you.

Extras:

• Rando pillows from the bed - these guys deserve at least a mention, just because of all of the abuse they endure throughout the night.  I'm constantly beating them to a pulp, folding them, drooling on them etc.  They might not be Big White Body Pillow, but they still hold a special place in my bed. 

NAPTIME!
OH and PS:  Those Tums on the bedside table aren't a prop.  I eat those babies all.night.long.

Santa Willis + Austin Ali = TLA

I have to say, Santa Willis really knocked it out of the park this Christmas.  Under the tree was the digital slr camera that I have been after for a while now -- hooray!  Now I just need to learn how to use it.  And not drop it.  I have to say, my brainpower (and dexterity) these days is significantly lower than it was before, and that really isn't saying much.  See, there was an example in this first paragraph -- I used "I have to say" twice without really even knowing it.

Let's hug it out, D3100.

Poor Santa Willis also told me that he drove all over Austin trying to find the Aveda hand lotion I casually mentioned I was out of in case Santa needed another stocking stuffer idea.  I thought everyone knew that you can only buy Aveda at Aveda...?  Aren't people born knowing this information?  Apparently not.  Well, apparently not straight men, anyway, and we all know Santa Willis is straight.  BROWN CHICKEN BROWN COW!

Anyway, he said he started out at CVS (HAHA!  Aveda at CVS!!), then a lady he asked at CVS sent him to some beauty supply store (HAHA!  Willis at a beauty supply store!!), then the beauty supply store sent him to a few Aveda salons... which were all closed.  Poor thing had to go to THE MALL on CHRISTMAS EVE.  After he told me that I said, "oh Willis -- you poor thing...  And this isn't even the right kind!"  But I was kidding.  He said he knew it was the right kind since he took a picture of the empty bottle for reference before he left for his Aveda journey.  I love Willis. 

On Christmas Eve, the three of us (Willis, Double Chin and I) all went to Perry's to cash in on that filet I complained about.  I was still semi-sick and all stuffed up, and I was having trouble hearing.  I kept asking Willis, "AM I SHOUTING!?" and he would kind of laugh and say, "sometimes."  But I couldn't help it.  I felt as though I was under water.

While we were waiting for our food, we were talking about how we are going to have to install a screen door on the outside of Logan's room because of the cats.  I have put a lot of thought into this, and I think it's the only option.  It was initially my mom's idea, then I did some research online and others who have [troublesome] cats have also recommended this.  See, I'm not sure if you know this, but we have really, really high maintenance cats.  If they are locked out of anywhere, they will relentlessly howl and scratch until you give in and open the door.  This includes the bathroom when you are in the middle of going (#1, people, #1), etc.  They couldn't give two shits about going in a room if the door is open, but the second you close a door, it's ON. 

Anyway, as we were talking about it, one of our waiters came up to refill our water and after I thought he had left I said, "I MEAN I KNOW IT'S GOING TO LOOK REALLY REDNECK AND TRAILER PARK, BUT WHAT OTHER OPTION DO WE HAVE?!!!!" but the waiter had snuck up behind me to refill my water at the very moment I said [shouted] that.  It isn't my fault I couldn't hear him still there!  I felt kind of like an ass -- I mean what if he was a redneck and/or lived in a trailer?  But then I realized that he probably makes more money at that restaurant than I ever did, and as Willis pointed out, "well he DEFINITELY makes more money than you do now.  And if he does live in a trailer, that just means he owns and we don't."  True story, Willis.  But maybe that just means you need to up my allowance.

Double Chin and I had a lovely Christmas Eve dinner.

Willis, Double Chin and I were also talking about how people who don't celebrate Christmas must HATE it since the whole world revolves around Christmas.  How it must be such an inconvenience since everything is closed, and everyone around you just assumes that you celebrate Christmas even if you don't.  Well, as we were waiting for the valet to bring the car around I was talking to a nice lady who asked me how much longer I had until my due date, etc.  Note this woman obviously didn't celebrate Christmas.  Anyway, Willis came up and said, "honey, the car is here" then acknowledged the nice un-Christian lady and said, "WELL, YOU HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS NOW!!!!!!  BYE!!!!!!"

Hope everyone had a lovely holiday!

Love,
Ali and Double Chin

Quickie

No, that's not what Willis and I are up to tonight.  I am still sick and haven't been feeling like even stepping out of bed, but I thought I would pop in and say a quick hello. 

The other day one of Willis's Christmas presents arrived (a new Pats t-shirt that is super soft) and once I saw that bad boy I had to have it (the t-shirt people, the t-shirt).  So when Willis got home from work I said, "Willis, one of your Christmas presents came but I think it's too small for you.  Can I have it?" 

So I've been wearing it ever since.  I think it would probably fit him just fine, by the way.  Poor Willis.  AND one of his other gifts from Bloomingdale's just didn't arrive.  Never came.  Looks like I need to make a trip to Walgreen's tomorrow if I feel better for some last minute fillers.  And no, I am not stepping foot in a mall right now, not even for Willis. 

A few days ago The Cankles and I hung out by the pool.  You can see the indentions that my flip flops made on my feet, just from me wearing them out my back door and about 45 steps.  They really are a sight to see.

I'll leave you with this.  I was trying to find the Christmas picture of Sox and Daisy wearing antlers from a few years ago to share (I know, we are freaks) but came across this one instead.  Did you know that we had the cats potty trained for a while?  True story.  I'll go into greater detail at a later date, but we lived in a tiny apartment at the time and used to be able to hear them tinkling in the toilet in the middle of the night.  Then I would come home from work and find little tiny floaters in there and get SO excited.

Goodnight!

sicky

Austin Ali is sick today so is spending the majority of the day in bed (when not eating).  Such a bummer because it's supposedly 75 degrees out and sunny, but I have all the blinds closed like a mental patient so don't know for sure.  Poor Willis is going to go to our last Lamaze class solo tonight.  I think he is really looking forward to it.

I hooked up Logan's humidifier (thanks Aunties Lise and Kari!) in our room last night because I could tell I was getting sick.  Went to bed with straight hair, and woke up with Monica hair.

Going back to bed but will leave you with the below.  You should've seen this steak - it was BAD.  So, Willis and I are going back on Christmas Eve for a do-over. 

---

From: Ali K.
Sent: Sunday, December 19, 2010 12:10 PM
To: Eric C.
Subject: 12/18/10

Dear Eric,

I got your email address from the business card in the bill we received last night at dinner.

We eat at Perry’s a fair amount, and consider it the best steakhouse in Austin which is why we keep coming back.  I thought I should let you know, however, that last night I was hugely disappointed in my dinner – it was actually borderline inedible.  I ordered the Southwestern filet medium-well (butterflied), and it was covered in gristle and fat.  It was also charred.  I’ve never seen a filet covered in fat before last night.

I didn’t say anything at the time because we were with friends, but I still thought I should let someone know.

Thanks,

Ali K.

---

From: Eric C.
Sent: Tuesday, December 21, 2010 11:35 AM
To: Ali K.
Subject: RE: 12/18/10

Hello,

  

I want to thank you very much for bringing this to my attention.  Feedback such as this helps so much in maintaining high standards with our food and service.  I did some research into the preparation of our SW filets.  It looks as though a very poor filet was chosen and was simply cooked incorrectly.  I would like to buy your entree on your next meal as an apology.  Feel free to contact me via this e-mail and I will set up the reservation for you.  Once again, thank you for the insight.

-Eric C

General Manager

Just Because You are Paranoid... and FALSE ALARM!

What have you been doing this afternoon?  Oh me?  I have spent the majority of this afternoon/early evening online, searching for a blasted dust ruffle for Logan's crib.  At this point I'm prepared to just tape a bunch of toilet paper together to make one, because I am just.so.sick.of.looking.at.these.things. 

Here is what I think I like.  But is it too pansy-ish for a boy?  We don't want him to be a pansy.  Please advise.

It's surprising to me that I'm even looking at these, considering the fact that I am still spooked about getting things in order for him.  I'm paranoid about putting things together, taking the tags off of his teeny tiny little clothes, washing things, etc.  I'm just afraid of jinxing something or getting punished for counting my chickens before they hatch, so to speak.  We have gotten the majority of everything we need for him (thanks to our fantastic friends and family!), but I refuse to open a single box.  So, it's all just sitting in Logan's closet, not opened, washed, or put together.  I keep telling the toys and stuffed animals in there to be patient.  But just because you are paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you...................

My dear friend Court has been harassing me to start putting stuff together and getting things in order, but I told her last week I would start on everything in 2011.  However, as I was being admitted to the L&D* wing at Seton Hospital on Friday night and they asked me if I had a carseat ready to go, it occurred to me that I might need to figure out a way to overcome this paranoia.  *(Oh that's what us experienced prego people say - it stands for Labor and Delivery for all of you rookies out there.) 

YUP.  You read that correctly.  We had a test run on Friday night!  You also read correctly that as you are checking into the hospital, [presumably] in labor, they ask you about a CAR SEAT.   

Let me clarify - I was NOT in labor, but I (along with the doctor on call) thought that I MIGHT be due to some symptoms I was having.  I won't bore or disgust you with the details (ok, yes I will, I was having these STABBING PAINS in my lower front right side about once every minute that were coinciding with Braxton Hicks contractions, and I was doubling over in pain.  Cue the violins.). 

It had been happening off and on all day, but I didn't think much about it until it started picking up on the way home from dinner.  We decided I'd wait an hour before calling the doc to see if it got any better.  Plus, I wanted to get my new BBerry set up (thanks, Santa Willis!) so we stopped by Sprint on the way home.  It was getting progressively worse and the poor Sprint kid kept asking, "are you sure your stomach is ok?" which made us both rethink my wait-an-hour thinking.   

Thirty minutes later, there I was in a johnny gown chillin in a hospital bed, hooked up the labor monitoring machines.  As the way these things typically play out, the STABBING PAINS and contractions stopped happening the second I got in bed and hooked all up.  They monitored me for an hour or so, and then the grand finale happened with the doc REALLY checking to make sure I wasn't in labor.  I WILL spare you those details, but let's just say I wanted to ask her for a cigarette afterwards and find out if she was gonna call me the next day.  Brown chicken brown cow.....


I didn't look much hotter than this
in my johnny. 

Big shout out to Willis, by the way, who was Joe Cool through the whole ordeal.  When we were in the car I asked him if he was scared because of my reactions to the pain, and he said "well it's hard to differentiate between your reactions because you have strong reactions to everything.  Like I don't know if you are reacting that way because you're in pain, or because you dropped your lip gloss."  HAHA!! 

Stay cool, Willis. 

Payback

Just today, two separate friends have said to me "payback is a bitch." 

You see, I love messing with people.  If I could figure out a way to do it for an occupation, I would.  For example, I have always wanted to show up at the home of a friend who has small children and no pets with a puppy as a gift, just to see what they would do. 

Logan loves messing with people, too.  One of his BFs, Sage (code name in case any pervs are reading this) is celebrating her first birthday this weekend in Boston.  So, Logan wanted to pick out the perfect gift for her.  First he thought it would be funny to send her a "band set" complete with drums so that her parents could listen to concerts all day and night.  But he decided that might just be too mean.  So, he settled on a talking puppy.  Logan read reviews about it, and apparently this puppy is possessed and just starts randomly talking hours after you are done playing with it, so he thought it would be perfect. 

When I told Willis what Logan sent as a gift and why, Willis asked, "what, are you trying to scare poor Sage?"  and I said, "not at all!  Just Lisa and B."

Happy Bday, Sage!  We love you. 

Another friend who shall remain nameless (Whitney) texted me and told me she was really hungover from her husband's company Christmas party last night, so I texted her back and told her to eat some eggs.  When she replied, "I hate eggs, in fact that just made me gag" I thought that was the perfect opportunity to send her a picture of the eggs I was currently making.  I mean, what a coincidence!  Making eggs at the very moment your hungover friend tells you she hates them?  It was almost like it was meant to be.

My previous boss (who is the greatest boss I will ever, ever have) who shall remain anonymous (his name is Ben and below you will find pictures of him) and I had a pretty good prank war going for a while when I was his assistant.  He used to take these crazy trips around the Middle East via a million different private planes, cars, etc. (and never once had a logistical problem thank you very much, taking a bow) which would make me just about break out in hives from stress every time (in fact once I did, and I always ended up crying by the end).  He knew how these trips wrapped me around an axle, and played into it.  He always had to have an extra box of tissues on his desk during these times for when I would run into his office, "BUT THE CONSULATE WON'T CALL ME BACK AND YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR VIIIIIIIIISA YET!  wAAAAAAHHAhahahahaha!!!!!"  He claims he misses working with me, but I don't buy it. 

During these trips I knew where he was supposed to be at every second because I was so paranoid something was going to happen, and once he called when I knew he was supposed on his way home from Saudi Arabia and I yelled, "WHY AREN'T YOU IN THE AIR" to which he answered, "Ali, this is serious.  This is not a joke.  Do you know how to wire money internationally?  We are in trouble."  My heart dropped to my feet and I started stammering a little, and I think I almost started peeing.  I had a note pad by the the phone and wrote in huge letters "WIRE MONEY INTERNATIONALLY" (like that was going to do something) then he started cracking up.  "AAHAHHHAAAAA just kidding!  We're getting ready to take off.  Bye!"  and hung up.  I wanted to KILL him. 

Bossman wore these sunglasses every day inside.

One prank war that continued for a WHILE starred Marty Feldman from Young Frankenstein.  See, there was a woman that I loathed at my old firm (who we will just call Spawn of Satan) who we thought looked just like him.  So, we started passing this picture around at various times.  Sometimes I would put it in a folder marked "urgent" for him, stick it inside random files he had in his drawers, put it on his car windshield, etc.  Another time I cut out tons of teeny pictures of Marty's head and taped them to all of the photos and bobble heads in Ben's office.  The problem was, if it took Ben a long time to discover what I had done, I would rat myself out.  I'd saunter into his office, "OH, have you happened to look at your BOBBLE HEADS recently?" and the jig would be up. 

Ben won that specific prank war, when he asked Willis to hang the pictures up around our condo.  One night after work I was in the bathroom (#1 people, #1) and looked up and THERE HE WAS, JUST STARING AT ME.  Marty Feldman, not my boss Ben.  I found several more pictures of Marty in our closet, my sock drawer. etc.

You know that song, "Jim Dandy to the Rescue...?"  Well I had that song stuck in my head for a good 4 months at one point after watcing Overboard, and used to harass Ben with messages and pictures from Jim Dandy.  If he was in an important meeting, he'd get a high importance email from me "SUBJECT:  URGENT MESSAGE" with the email saying "Jim Dandy called, call him ASAP."  Or he'd get the song on his voicemail over and over and over and over and over.  Ben was pretty particular with his Blackberry messages and would delete all emails once he read them (let's be honest he was pretty particular about everything - hardy har har) and one of the Jim Dandy messages wouldn't delete from his Blackberry for some reason.  So, for about a week he just had that one pesky, high importance message that wouldn't go away and it.drove.him.NUTS.  He finally had to take it to the IT department to get it fixed, and right after that he came into my office with his clean Blackberry, so proud the message was gone.  As soon as he left, I sent him another one. 

This is Ben at a Red Sox game acting like our friend Marty.

Not prank war related, but while we are on the subject of Bossman, one time he had to take me to the emergency room in the middle of work because I thought I had a brain tumor or was having a stroke.  True story.  Ben called Willis on the way to the hospital, and waited with me in the ER for Willis to arrive.  They asked me to get into a johnny which was totally awkward, and Ben decided at that point it was probably a good idea to go see if Willis had arrived yet.  Good times.  Another time when I was walking to the bus stop, I spotted Ben's Porsche Cayenne near my condo with Ben in it, just parked with the car running.  I thought, "what the hell is BEN doing in WATERTOWN?" and as I walked by, he rolled down his window (he was covered in crumbs, by the way) and said something like "oh, I'm here every morning, just making sure you are on time for work."  It turns out he was early for a board meeting that was up the street, and had stopped at the convenience store across from my condo for breakfast... a 99 cent Hostess cake... 

GO JIM DANDY, GO JIM DANDY! 

Cankles

Well hello, Cankles!  I'm not sure we've ever met -- but clearly you are sticking around, so it's probably best we settle in and really get to know each other.  I'm Austin Ali.

According to Urban Dictionary, cankles can be defined as follows:  "The area in affected female legs where the calf meets the foot in an abrupt, nontapering terminus; medical cause: adipose tissue surrounding the soleus tendon, probably congenital, worsened by weight gain and improved in appearance only by boots.  From the English "calf" meaning wide portion of the lower leg, and "ankle" meaning slender joint of leg with foot.  Example: If I didn't have cankles, I might be able to wear those Prada loafers with my capri pants."

I used to have such dainty ankles.  In fact, Roomie used to call me Chicken Legs -- which is really nice, Roomie, really nice.  But I'd take that any day over what's going on... down there.

Cankles, I especially love when you sort of fold over my socks after I've had on shoes and socks for 3 minutes.  The other night when I was whining so I could win the seat in Willis's coveted Big Chair*, Willis said, "you should really take those socks off" to which I answered, "I would but I can't reach them."  So, Willis had to take off my sweaty socks.  He then looked kind of shocked and commented on how deep the ridges were where the socks used to be on my Cankles (then went and washed his hands).  As you can see, things are really hot and heavy in the Austin Ali household these days.

*When Willis and I moved in together, I gave him 3 rules.  (1.) Willis is not allowed to sleep with any other girls (or boys).  (2.) Willis is not allowed to drive when he is hammered.  (3.) Willis is not allowed to get a recliner.

Can you believe that out of the 3 rules, the one Willis wanted to break the most was #3?  (Taking a bow that he didn't pursue to break #1 (YET), thank you very much.)  So, when we first moved here and were furniture shopping, Willis wore me down when we were at Ikea.  It's really not a bad piece of furniture, and Willis loves it.  Well, I used to give him a really hard time about sitting on his Miami Vice cream leather recliner, but now that I can't seem to get comfy anywhere, I have my eye on that baby every night, too.  Some nights I will go sit in Logan's room in his baby glider with my laptop, but other times I break down and whine and Willis [reluctantly] gives up his fave seat.  It's just better for everyone that way.  And I don't sit on our couch, because it's the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever made on this earth.  West Elm, you can kiss my Cankles. 

Well, my Cankles and I are about to go clean the bathrooms and finish Logan's List... which is everything we have to assemble and purchase in the next 50 days... Bye!

Scale

Willis and I have so much in common.  I realized just how much we have in common today at the doctor's office -- after I stepped on the scale. 

When we got into the exam room and were waiting for the nurse, Willis informed me that I weigh as much as he did when he graduated from college. 

(EDITOR'S NOTE: Now don't go all thinking that Willis is That Guy -- you know, the ass that gives his wife a hard time about stuff like that -- he's NOT.  He is actually quite the opposite.  We were more just having a conversation and laughing about it after I said, "yikes, I never thought I'd see THAT number on a scale.") 

You probably think I am fretting about this, which perhaps I should be doing.  But I don't feel too too bad about this new weight revelation for the following reasons:

(1.) I think Willis graduated college in like 1983, so I think that scales were different back then, anyway.  
(2.) I was wearing my sweet velor track suit and Uggs, which I know must have added 10 pounds considering the week before last I was in shorts and flip flops.  
(3.) I've seen pictures of Willis when he was that age, and he was one scrawny mo-fo.
(4.) I am so bloated and uncomfortable I don't give a shit about much right now, which includes the fact that I weigh what my [over 6'2"] husband weighed at one point in his life.

So, moving right along.

Since I'm on this "special" diabetes diet, there are a million things I can't eat.  Thankfully, 99% of people that have this when they are prego are fine once the baby is born, and God willing I'm not in that 1%, I'll be able to go back to eating normal foods the day Logan is born (you know, foods that are packed with refined sugar and fried goodness which I'll probably binge eat causing me to gain even MORE weight than I have since I've been deprived for so long.  But, I digress.)  All day and all night long I will say to Willis, "OH I want THAT after the baby is born.  No no - I want THAT."  You know, like the kid in the shopping cart at the grocery store in the checkout line looking at all the candy.  So, Willis asked me to make him a list of what I want because he is having a hard time keeping up.  Can you guess what is #1 on the list?  Nope, not Kimmy.  And not Miller Lite.  No, it's not Marlboro Lights, either.  But all of these are very good guesses. 

It's Nestle's Chocolate Milk.  I AM JONESING FOR A FIX of that thick, chocolatey goodness like you wouldn't believe.  And I didn't even really drink it before Logan came along.  But I have to have it. 

Come to Mama, you little
chocolate bunny man.

More on The List tomorrow - I have to get ready for Lamaze class and start my "don't laugh Ali, don't laugh" mantra.

Time Out

Oh, are you feeling left out, Belli Elasticity Belly Oil?  Well, maybe if you did what you said you were going to do, YOU would still be on that nice little plate from Anthropologie instead of your replacement, Clarins Tonic.  But now you are in an indefinite time out.  So go be with your new antique bottle friends who do nothing but sit there and don't get used. 

If you were to ask Willis what my pet peeve is, he would probably list about 1,546 of them at this stage in the game.  But my absolute, #1 pet peeve remains the same as before I turned into a crazy prego lady - and it's when people don't follow through or do what they say they are going to do.  And you, Belli, fall into this category. 

I have an idea, Belli.  I think that you should re-market your product to say, "If you want to get stretch marks that resemble Medusa hair, try us!!!"  Because as far as I'm concerned, that's what you are good for.

Dear Belli - this could be the mascot for your new
marketing campaign.

OK, enough of this Medusa talk.  It is what it is, and like Willis said (after assuring me it wasn't so bad for the 6,345th time), "we can get it taken care of" - you know, like we are in the mafia and since I get plastic surgery on a regular basis.

53 MORE DAYS 53 MORE DAYS 53 MORE DAYS!  I started to get really nervous in the shower - and yes I am still showering on a semi-regular basis.  Not about labor, and not even about having a little newborn here that I will have no idea how to care for.  I got nervous because I kept dropping everything.  EVERY TIME I PICKED SOMETHING UP.  I dropped the soap about 5 different times (DON'T DROP THE SOAP YOU JAILBIRD!!!!) along with my razor about 67 different times.  I have read it's because of some hormone called Relaxin that's being pumped through my joints, but can the person that decided this was a good idea please revisit your reasoning?  I mean, isn't it important for someone who is about to be holding a helpless infant to NOT drop things? 

Off for a hot stone pedi! 

Roomie

I can't believe that it's taken me this long to bring up Roomie, seeing as though we are a day apart in our prego-ness and have a pretty funny/constant dialogue going on BBM about everything that's happening "in there" right now (i.e. the Alien Invasions). 

Roomie and I were college roommates my sophomore & her junior year, and while I'm certain I'm not the easiest person in the world to live with, Roomie and I had a good thing going.  We had a rule that we weren't allowed to talk to each other in the morning, which is why I think we are still friends.  There WAS this one time that she said she almost killed me -- and that was when I went manic and started vacuuming our 14 square foot room at 9 am on a Saturday morning while she was still sleeping.  Why I wasn't too hungover to do such an activity on a Saturday before noon is beyond me, but it's still a pretty funny thing to picture anyway... because it's very out of character for Austin Ali.  We also used to hang out of our tiny dorm window smoking butts, agonizing over how hot we were with no air conditioning.  (Mom and Dad I was just feeling peer pressure since she was older so that's why I smoked those cigarettes.  So it's really her fault.) 

Fast forward 8 years.  Who knew that we would be on a girls' weekend at Cath's in Florida over Memorial Day 2010, both pregnant and not knowing it?  ONE DAY APART?  We were sharing packs of Marlboro Lights (again, peer pressure) and trading off making frozen rum drinks all weekend, completely, 100%, KNOCKED UP (is that a crass saying?  See I don't really think it is, but it's probably not very becoming for a lady to say it).  Thankfully Baby K and Baby J-D were just cute little zygotes then so I'm not too concerned about it, and I'm sure they had fun.  (This was also the trip that I was forced to watch the heinously disgusting "2 Girls One Cup" video, and then they videotaped my reaction.  Mom and Dad -- and everyone else for that matter -- DON'T Google it.) 

It's been so great having someone going through the exact same thing at the exact same time during such an "interesting" time.  So, if you can somehow plan to get prego a day apart from your old college roommate, I highly recommend it. 

These days I'll get the, "random pain in your right side?" messages from her, and she'll get the, "do you have stretch marks and if you say no I kill you?" messages from me.  But typically it's me sending her a random freak out and her calming me down (me: "are you concerned that eating too much peanut butter will lead to peanut allergies?"  Roomie:  "no").  And the rest is so embarrassing and disgusting I don't think I can share, even with you.  But today she said something along the lines of, "we don't want high strung / up tight babies, so the calmer we are the better for them" which is so true... and which also immediately made me fret because I realized that I'll probably be having the most up tight kid in the state of Texas because of the amount of worrying I do.  And Texas is one big ass state.

Roomie is a lovely mother-hen-but-no-nonsense-but-also-nurturing-and-suck-it-up-you-aren't-on-fire-or-dying type all at the same time.  I think she'll be a very calm mother.  Me, on the other hand, will probably hyperventilate the second Logan gets his first knee scrape, forcing him to call 911 when he's 3 years old from the playground because his mom is having a panic attack.  In other words, we balance each other out. 

If my hands and feet weren't so swollen I would have gone through my old boxes of college pics to really incriminate Roomie, so she's lucky I'm feeling too prego to move right now.
Hey Roomie - tell Annette I said hello... 19!

Prozac

Wouldn't you just LOVE it if this post was all about my Prozac taking, etc.?  Well, it's not.  Although after this pregnancy is over I'm gonna need a lot more than Prozac to stay out of the loony bin.  Logan will be one spoiled boy, 'cause he's gonna be it for this family's offspring.  I can't handle any more of this worry!  More on that at another juncture. 

In other, non-Logan news...

...the vet just called to let me know that Daisy's Prozac prescription was ready. 



I guess she does look a little on the unbalanced side.

Remember how I said that she was #1 on my shit list recently?  Well, she's gotten worse - and by worse I mean she's turned into a pyscho, scary kitty a lot of the time (not unlike her mama).  She attacks Sox after the tiniest thing happens (if she sees another cat outside, if I make a loud noise or say something LOUD - which is 100% of the time, etc.) and it's so scary that I think that if we didn't separate them, she would kill the poor guy!  She's a complete irrational shithead these days (not unlike her mama). 

I got a huge scratch down my [enormous protruding] belly the other day separating them (which I guess is a bad idea?) and I think that was the straw that broke the camel's back.  WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT SAYING EVEN MEAN, ANYWAY?  Well I guess I get it.  But I think it's kind of a lame saying.  No offense if any of you coined it. 

The vet thinks she is just overstimulated because of the move, her now being on the ground floor and seeing other cats outside, me being pregs and sending out weird hormones, etc.  But I think she has a screw loose (not unlike her mama).

Anyway, when I was talking to the vet she said, "why don't you just keep her locked in a back room with the blinds closed so she can chill out for a while?  It may take 8-10 weeks.  Then if push comes to shove we can try meds."  Um, listen lady.  First of all, push has already come to shove, that's why I called you.  And [God willing] we're going to be bringing a baby home in less than 9 weeks, and we aren't going to have Daisy holed up in a back room howling and scratching away like Sloth from Goonies for his arrival.  

So, we are trying tuna flavored liquid Prozac starting tomorrow.  I do feel awful about it because I heard it kind of knocks them out - but she is DANGEROUS right now!  And I would never declaw her, so this is kind of our only option, short of "accidentally" leaving the patio door open. 

I think she senses something is up, because she got Willis's toothbrush out of the bathroom and left it for him under the tree - you know, as a little gift.  She was chewing away on it.  Notice it's pink - I got him that color since it's his favorite.

She's also been acting out a little in another way.  Look at her, mack'n on Little Willis!  Me-ow!

Poor Daisy.

OH.MY.GOD.

Willis and I have just returned from our first Lamaze class, and let me just say it again.  OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD. 

We are taking an "accelerated" version of the class, so 3 classes for around 3 1/2 hours each after work  (well, after Willis works).  I was expecting to be bored out of my mind (as was Willis), and we certainly didn't want to spend 6 weekend days on the classes.  I mean, how much can they really say about a breathing technique that I am not likely to remember anyway?  (I'm sure all of you mothers out there are just laughing away, saying "just you wait" - YOU KNOW, LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO.  Just kidding, of course.)

What I was NOT expecting was to be watching videos of real births.  Four of them.  Four cha-chas, up close and personal.  And those cameras got DOWN AND DIRTY, ladies and gentlemen.  I saw more of Patty-helmet-head's who-ha than I think her husband has.  And it wasn't pretty.

Having to watch videos of up-close births in the first place would be bad enough, but I have a little problem when I'm in uncomfortable or embarrassing situations -- I start laughing.  It never fails, and it ALWAYS happens at the most inopportune times.  While I feel most other people can generally pull it together if this happens to them, I just get worse and borderline hysterical, and it doesn't go away quickly.  I can try pinching myself, yelling at myself in my head (GET IT TOGETHER ALI YOU REALLY NEED TO GROW UP YOU ARE 31 YEARS OLD FOR THE LOVE OF GOD), or thinking of something really sad, but it just makes me laugh even harder.  And then the ship sails -- I am completely out of control. 

Tonight it happened in front of the whole Lamaze class. 

It didn't help that my chair was in the front row of the TV screen, so the whole class could see me.  Willis was kind of off to the side, and once The Laughter started up (within 2 minutes of the first video), it got so bad that he thought I was crying.  So he looked at me and asked me if I was ok, which made me even more hysterical.  There were tears alright, but they weren't from crying.  I was shaking all over from laughter and kept trying to drink water to distract myself, but then I was laughing so hard I couldn't even swallow.  People were staring, and I don't think it's because I was in the way of the TV screen.  The lesbian couple to my right told me that I was a source of entertainment for them throughout the video, so at least some good came from it. 

Tonight the mantra I kept saying in my head to try and stop laughing was, "you aren't going to be laughing when this is you" - which in turn made me laugh even harder.  Then I would semi pull it together until something cheesy on the video would happen.  For example, one woman's husband kept getting right up in her face - we're talking like an inch away - saying supportive/cheesy things, and I started thinking to myself that if Willis pulls that stunt while I'm in labor, I'll punch him in the face.  Then that got me going again.  It was like a never-ending cycle until the movie ended. 

Aside from the Tourette's laughing episode, the class wasn't really boring, but it did manage to completely freak me out about labor.  I'm kind of bummed about this considering labor was something that I actually wasn't all that concerned about, if you can believe it.  I was actually looking forward to it, so we could just get on with this whole Logan thing.  I'm dying to meet him, and labor is just the obstacle that's in my way (that and Father Time).  But now I am stuck with these heinous images / sounds in my head of blood, cha-chas, and grunting and moaning. 

If only I could have a few glasses of wine to take the edge off... ahhh! 

59 MORE DAYS, 1 HOUR, 11 MINUTES.

Happy Anniversary Willis!

This day 2 years ago we were in the Bahamas (along with ~60 of our closest friends and family), GETTING M-A-R-R-I-E-D!  I'm still so very happy I married Willis -- which is probably a good thing, right?

Here is us with our wedding license, the day before the wedding.  We are 75% certain that it's legal in the States.

Looking back, I think this jewelry looks like kind of Flintstone-ish.

Don't worry, I won't go into a big sap-fest on how great Willis is (he is so great), how much I love him (I love him lots and lots) etc., because I'm not really a big sap as it is, and nobody wants to hear it anyway.  (Although that's never really stopped me in the past, now has it?)  I WILL say that I am positive that there is nobody else on this earth who could make me half as happy as Willis does.  OK one last Willis tidbit then I'll stop - but did you know that Willis has never missed one of Logan's doctor's appointments?  (Well wait there IS one he didn't go to, but that was because my mom was in town and we thought 3 of us going was overkill.)  And these days there are a lot of them, considering I now have to go to 2 separate practices (one for The Dreaded Gestational Diabetes and one just for my regular doc), so Willis is logging in some serious doctor time.  

OK so maybe this blog will be a LITTLE on the sap side.  But nobody is forcing you to keeping reading, now, are they?  

Willis also leaves me notes like the below.  It's not because I'm an invalid (I mean at least I don't THINK it's because he thinks I am a total moron...)  I think it's because he's thoughtful.  But now that I'm thinking about it, this note WAS left right after I almost filled up the car with diesel fuel (after I had to ask a stranger for help on how to open up the gas tank).  How the hell would I know that's what the green handle meant?  Willis didn't give me a hard time about it, though.  He just said, "man, that would have ruined the car."  And that was it.



It's shocking to me that Willis still proposed even after seeing me wear this heinous hair thing.  This pic was taken at Cath and Aaron's going away party, circa 2005.

Willis also lets me dress him up for Halloween.  This was taken in the first apartment we lived in together, also in 2005.  LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE IS GOING DOWN MEMORY LANE!  You know, the same apartment where I looked out the window and saw the homeless man then gave the man Willis's down comforter and pillow.

Willis can also make friends with anyone.  This was taken in Jamaica where the theme of the trip was, "Do you know Barrington McNeil?  He saved my dad's life here 30 years ago from a sailing accident."  Nobody knew Barrington McNeil, and I'm certain of that because we asked every single person in Negril.  But we are all very happy for Barrington McNeil, so let's just pretend that the guy in the picture below is actually B McN, k?

I'm fairly certain it wasn't Willis's idea to get on stage with this band, but he clearly plays along with my antics.  I haven't been drinking here. 

  

Happy Anniversary, mer!!!   



"I'm in Labor!"

Don't worry, I'm not REALLY in labor, but that's what an entire row of people at the Trans-Siberian Orchestra show think... 'cause that's what I told them on our way out of the concert.  I'll explain later. 

We just got back from our 2nd wedding anniversary celebration where we had a nice dinner followed by the show... which also happened to be Logan's first concert!  He was just kick kick kicking through the whole thing.  In fact, I kept picturing that the creepy dancing baby from Ali McBeal was in my belly, dancing away.

  

We went to a place downtown where we used to go for drinks a lot before my Condition... in fact, it was the same place we had dinner (and um drinks) where later that night at home I found out about said Condition.  Thankfully Logan was just a teeny tiny zygote then...  but still, yikes!  Anyway, we were just finishing up dinner at a bar table (and I was admiring this woman's ginormous new Louis while she was walking by - who I later realized was Kevin Millar's wife) when Willis yells, "KEVIN MILLAR!!  We met at a Red Sox game!!"  And Kevin stopped at the table and asks, "we did?" completely confused. 

Willis + Ali + Kevin = BFFUHFO

So Willis goes, "no! I mean WE did!" and points to me, and he goes into the story about how we met at on Yawkey Way at Fenway Park on June 9 2004, rain delay, Nomar's first game back, now we're married, now I'm prego, etc. etc.  Kevin played along and acted interested (and even asked our names and shook our hands) and then we were instant BFFs.  In fact, we are so tight now I think Kevin will probably be in the room with us while Logan is being born - that's how BFF we are.  He might catch the baby, but he hasn't decided yet.  He also told us all about his 4 kids.  Well, actually he just said, "I have four kids" but you get the picture.  And yes, you can have my autograph - but you'll have to take a number.

Before meeting our new BFF at dinner, Willis and I were talking about how we always leave events early.  In fact, I'm not sure that in the 6 years we have been together that there has ever been an event where we have stayed for the whole thing.  We get bored. 

Tonight was no different. 

The family next to us was leaving, so we decided to piggy back on their making people in our row stand up and get the hell out of there as well (good show, but we were ready to jet).  We were up in the second tier of seats and had A LOT of steep steps to walk down, so it was taking me forever.  Willis had my purse, and I had one hand on Willis's shoulder and the other on the handrail doing a step at a time.  The show was still going on and as we were walking down, I heard someone say, "wow, she's really pregnant."  NICE TO MEET YOU, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!  Carry on.

At the bottom of the stairs I had to stop and take a rest when there were just a few steps left, right next to this older woman (there she goes again with the older women remarks!) who was staring at me.  Willis was in front of me, holding my purse, and I just couldn't help it...  I said to her, holding my stomach, "I'm in labor!!"  Her mouth dropped wide open and as I started to go down the rest of the stairs, out of the corner of my eye I saw her tell everyone around her.  I heard gasping, etc. followed by a few "she's in labor!!"  For effect, I was acting all dramatic those last few steps, which actually isn't really all that different than how I normally am.  Since Willis was in front of me, he had no idea what was going on, but he patted me on the back once I reached the last step and said "nice job baby!" so I think that made it even more believable.  That Willis - playing along when he didn't even know he was playing. 

Once we got out in the main part of the arena, I told Willis what I said - and he thought it was really funny.  We were laughing away as we were leaving, but once the funny wore off, I started FRETTING that the karma police were going to come after me and actually make me go into labor because of what I did.  I spent the car ride fretting out loud about it, trying to justify why I did it (there is no good reason), etc. but we decided that I was in the karma clear because I wasn't saying it for any sort of personal gain, to cut a line, etc.  I was just saying it to mess with the lady who was staring at me, and because sometimes the devil makes me do things that I am unable to control.

Hope everyone is having a good weekend!

There is a row of people at this concert who think someone
had to leave because she was in labor.

Not in the Mood

No no, don't worry, this post isn't about doing the dirty deed or anything.  It is a direct quote of what I said to a lady today who works at one of those kiosks at the mall, who was trying to sell me something.

After spending last night whimpering and in tears because my back hurt so bad, I decided it was time to waddle on down to Brookstone to pick up a chair massager (thanks Tyll for reminding me that I needed one).  When I sent Willis the link telling him I wanted one, his response email to me was this (in about 2.4 seconds): "Sure...get in the car now.  There is a Brookstone at Barton Creek Mall."  See, I don't think he wanted a repeat of last night's shenanigans. 

Anyway, I was making a beeline for Brookstone when one of those vultures (kiosk workers) moved in on me to try and sell me a hair straightener.  Um, ok.  Do I REALLY look like I care about straightening my hair right now?  I got all dressed up in my yoga pants and hoodie to hit the mall and everything, but really - a hair straightener is about #457,768 on my list right now.  Thanks though. 

Mall kiosk vulture [standing in my way so I couldn't get by]:  "Excuse me, ma'am?  Can you I ask you a question about your hair?"

me:  "No, you can't.  I'm not in the mood."

YIKES! 

The words just flew out of my mouth before I could even really think about what had just happened.  But, she got the point and just kept on moving. 

And, I now have my back chair massager thing so everyone is the Kilham household is happy... except for the kitties, who are a little spooked. 

 
NAPTIME!

Thanksgiving Recap!

I hope everyone had a nice holiday! 

Mine started out like this:

Since I couldn't make up my mind on the best time to go shopping, Cath and I ended up having to go on Wednesday (my worst nightmare!) while Aaron started putting together the crib and Willis had a conference call. 

I don't think Cath wanted to deal with Cranky Ali complaining about her feet hurting, so she insisted that I get pushed around in the above cart.  And I have to say that while I was hesitant at first, it was a very pleasant grocery store trip!  I highly recommend it.  All except for the old ladies giving me stank eye... but I personally think they were just jealous because they weren't getting pushed around themselves.  Too bad so sad for you!  Honk honk outta my way you old bag!

We had a good system going - Cath would do all the work, and I would just bark orders, cross items off the list, and sip water throughout the trip to stay hydrated.

Cath said that she thought the most chaotic part of the trip was the produce section (above), but I thought it was nice and relaxing.

We were kind of making a scene in the gravy/Thanksgiving isle because the monster cart kept blocking the isles where people were trying to get all of the most popular Thanksgiving items, so Cath announced (not sure to who exactly) "oh sorry, SHE HASN'T BEEN OUT OF THE HOUSE IN A WHILE!  You know, BEDREST!"  And a woman came running up and said "oh no!  My sister is home on bedrest right now!  You should be at home!"  And I kind of shrugged and told her not to worry, all was ok since I was in my cart.  I then told another lady about all of the old ladies giving me stank eye, and she said "can you BELIEVE that - well don't you worry, just relax and take it easy, and don't at ALL feel guilty about what you have to do."  My thoughts exactly, lady.  Plus she was old, too, so I think she felt flattered that I was talking to her about all of the other old ladies as if she wasn't one herself.  (Gosh I sound like I hate old people or something!  I really don't.  I mean I'm really close with my parents!  just kidding, Mom and Dad.  OH AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Cath also pushed me all around every square inch of the store while she hunted for the liquid gravy stuff that the workers kept telling her they didn't have, but she just knew that they did.  Although sometimes the isles would be too crowded, so she'd park me up at the top of the isles and I'd just sit there, chillin in my cart.

Apparently the cart was a coveted item, because as soon as we were finished and Cath ditched it in the grass next to our car, this grandma came running over to get it for her grandkids to sit in... 

Next on the having-people-do-everything-for-me agenda was baby furniture assembly.  Aaron got a head start on the crib while Willis did some work:

Once the crib was almost put together, there was a big controversy on how the room should be laid out.  I think the boys moved the bed 4 times, then once Cath woke up from her nap, they moved it a 5th time because she had a different idea on how the room should go... which ended up being the way it stayed.  And I think the way it began, too.  Aaron and Willis were LOVING us. 

I guess each time they moved the bed they had to take some middle section apart, which they loved doing.

They thought for sure they were done with the bed moving, before Cath woke up from her nap:

Also, at one point Willis got put together IN the crib.  The only thing he's missing is a DIAPER! 

I was really hoping the cats wouldn't be interested in getting in the crib, but not surprisingly Sox hopped right in about 3 minutes after they were done.  I read somewhere that cats hate the sound of aluminum foil, so the crib now looks like this.  I hope Logan doesn't mind that crinkle sound.

Here's a pic of the changing table / dresser... we got the combo one because we're a bit tight on space for the next 11 months.  Note that it is also doubling as our wireless router stand.  Oh and that's Bear who is still wearing his diaper. 

And can you find Daisy?

DONE!  I was really helpful throughout the whole process, just kind of sitting around saying "um, well, I don't really know, shouldn't the bed go the other way?" and things of that nature.   

The next day we had a very delicious meal, with a smoked turkey from a very good BBQ place in town called Uncle Billy's.  Cath even made homemade rolls!  I unfortunately couldn't eat them because I have The Dreaded Gestational Diabetes, but I was able to eat tablespoons of other carbs.  I think Willis noticed I was teetering on tears when I saw everyone else's plate, so he got up and got me a few sips of Pinot Noir... which Logan really liked.  And which immediately gave me heartburn. 

Along with the diabetes comes a very handy blood sugar testing kit, so we had a blood sugar competition after dinner to see who was the lowest.  And guess who won, ladies and gents!?  THIS GIRL!  I cheated though and got on the treadmill after we ate so I could have a fakey piece of pumpkin pie I made with Splenda. 

I think this is the first year in a long time I haven't woken up hungover from a holiday celebration (geez what an ALCHIE), which was actually quite nice!  Now I'm just wishing again that Aaron and Cath didn't live 80,000 miles away...