Stereotype...

So I've been wanting pickles...

I know, I know.  A pregnant lady wanting pickles?  Unheard of!  What you're forgetting is that I am a very particular pregnant lady.  Particular is a nice way to say high-maintenance and picky.

Anyway, I've been wanting the pickles that they serve at delis.  You know the ones--the really good dills that they serve with your sandwich at Beagle Bagel and McAllister's.  I have tried to buy pickles at the grocery store, but they just don't cut it.

So I did what anyone else would do in my situation--I called my father-in-law.  He loves a challenge, and boy did he come through this time.  He called Beagle Bagel and found out that they serve Block and Barrel Kosher Dills.  Mystery solved.

The problem is that Block and Barrel only sells through Sysco.  Bummer.  I e-mailed my FIL back, thanked him for the research, and explained that I still couldn't get them because I can't order from Sysco.  I thought I had reached a dead-end.

But then the phone rang.

My father-in-law informed me that he can order from Sysco through his work, and he had already placed an order.  They arrived in a HUGE industrial size container.

I now have 2 refrigerators full of gallon-size freezer bags filled with pickles.  And they are so, so, good.

A little advice...

Never, ever, ever, ever watch Toy Story 3 when you're pregnant.

I just spent the last 20 minutes bawling like a 2-year-old who just had a toy taken from him.  The scene where Andy leaves for college is brutal.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

16 (x 2) and Pregnant...

Yep.  Now you know how old I am.

And you also know why I have been absent for so long.  I just got home from what I thought would be my 10 wk. appointment.  After the ultrasound today, we found out we were a little off on our previous calculations, and I'll be 12 wks. tomorrow.  I'm praying this means that the all day nausea will begin to dissipate.

Side note #1:  Those of you out there who never had awful nausea during pregnancy--the kind where you dry-heave EVERY morning, OR have to sprint to find any available receptacle including plastic bags while on the road,  OR throw up in restaurant parking lots and have your 3-year-old pat you on the back saying "That's ok, mama,"--I ENVY YOU.  And I know women have been putting up with this for centuries--this malady isn't exclusive to me by any means. However, I am going to go on record that pregnancy is not kind to me.  I certainly don't glow.  Unless turning a lovely shade of green counts, in which case, I guess I do. 


Side note #2:  To make things really fun (because we love to keep things exciting around the Sherman household)  we have had a total of four family members in and out of the hospital during this time period.  One of them was me.  Did I mention I had a seizure?  Nothing says fun like an early morning ride to the ER in an ambulance.  We're all fine, and we're hoping that it was a crazy side effect of hormones and some medication I was previously on.  However, I am not allowed to drive until we have an MRI and get the all clear from a neurologist.  I was already classified as high risk, but I think I've been able to take it to another level.  Like I said, we like to keep things interesting around here. 

House arrest is no fun.  Maybe I should call Lindsay Lohan and ask her how to deal. 


For those of you who've forgotten, I gave birth to a toddler the first time around..  Sam was a 10.3 lb. whopper.  We had no idea beforehand, and his enormity caused several complications during and post-birth.  We're hoping that this baby is a nice, normal, healthy size.  However, I will admit that I'm not sure I even know how to handle a smaller baby.  We'll see.


I'll be due sometime in late December/early January.  Anthony has already been told that he has tentative permission to attend the Sugar or Cotton Bowl. Everything else will have to be watched on tv.  If the Bulldogs actually end up in one of these locations, I deserve "Wife of the Year."

Yes, we have our priorities in order.  

Raise your hand if you're insane...

Hand raised.

So the husband and I had an opportunity to hit the beach with some friends last week.  Who wouldn't pass that up?  Especially since we had a virtually free place to stay...

The problem was that Sam's birthday was last Saturday--the 21st, and we weren't supposed to come back until Sunday, the 22nd.  Our solution--have everything as ready as possible for a party before leaving, recruit grandparents to help with the last minute necessities, and get up super-early Sunday morning to be back in time for a 4:00 birthday party. 

Are you tired yet?  We were.  We rolled out of Destin around 7:30 Sunday morning, drove back to Jackson with friends, and got everything else ready for the party at 4:00.

But it was worth it.  Sam had a blast, and he hasn't quit talking about it. 

 

Obviously, it was a fireman themed party.  The local fire station was gracious enough to drop by for a few minutes, and it was a big hit.  And I had to make him a fireman shirt for the occasion.

 

Each kid got a fireman's badge

 And got to climb all over the firetruck.

 This was a huge hit until Sam took a tumble off of the truck.  Thankfully, one of the firefighters caught him.

 Which is why he looks a little grumpy in this picture.

 

Our house now looks like a molded-plastic factory blew up.  It has taken me days to uncover and get everything back in order.  Hopefully, his 4th birthday party won't be so hectic for us!

My mom...

She truly makes me laugh.  Here's an email I got a few days ago.

" I just want to know why Carrie Bradshaw did not stick with Aidan--much better choice.  I don't know if I can finish watching, knowing that she is going to dump him for Big!!! Have a good weekend!"

It took me a minute to realize she was talking about Sex and the City. She's watching them in syndication.  Hilarious.  And I agree--Aidan was much cuter and sweeter. 

FYI...

You know that gorgeous, lush, perfectly manicured grass outside of Dudy Noble? Don't ever sit in it. Not even for 5 minutes while your husband brings the car around. I have chigger bites all over the lower half of my body, and they itch like crazy. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Like Father, like son...

My husband is an MSU fan.  Fan is probably an understatement for someone who almost gets physically ill when we blow a lead.  I've long heard stories about his begging to be checked out of school so that he could listen to baseball games.  Seriously.  And his mother was nice enough to do it for him on one special occasion.   He follows football and football recruiting with a (sometimes) ridiculous passion.  He can answer pretty much any Bulldog Trivia question, and he loves basketball and all that it entails. One year he had to miss the football season-opener due to fever and strepp throat.  I'm not sure which made him more miserable--missing the game or being sick. 

It appears that our child is following along the same path.  He will be 3 in May, and he knows every word to the fight song.  I'm not exaggerating.  He can sing it for you but will rarely do it on command.  We're trying to figure out how to get around the whole "H-E-L-L" part--I guess we need to spell it "H-E-C-K" instead.  I'm not sure if he would buy that, though, because he has a definite need to say things exactly as he hears them. 

We took him for a brief visit to the Left Field Lounge last weekend.  It was sooooo hot--the first day it's really felt like summer.  We lasted to the 5th, and I had to call it a day for my own sake.  The kid loved it though.  He played in the dirt, threw a football with a friend, and kept asking, "Don't you want to watch baseball with me?" 

Yes, Sam.  Yes we do.

Holding the ball for his place kicker, Mitchell Holder. He loves to do this. 

Petting Bully.  Bigtime.