50%

It's strange but I feel like I have been both pregnant forever and that it has gone by in a blink. As of today we are officially at the half way mark at 20 weeks!!! I guess we should probably start getting the wheels in motion on the baby purchases, eh? Rick hit the ground running on Monday after we found out Super's gender with some adorable purchases, none of which will provide a baby a place to sleep or a safe mode of transportation, but he/she will be very fashion forward. It's all about looking good in our house.

According to the ultrasound on Monday (real doctor data, not silly phone data), Super is now 11 ounces. Super is around 9 inches long (cucumber-sized according to the cannibals that run the Pregnancy Companion Ap) and is starting to accumulate meconium. What's that, you say? Well, it's a green colored sticky stool that it will pass after he/she is born. Excellent. How's your breakfast tasting? Here's praying for a timely delivery with no passing this green goo in utero.

In other news, I washed my hair with face scrub this morning. Now that my hair is properly exfoliated, it's time for Miami!!! We can't wait to get down there to hang with the family and finally divulge our Super Secret!

A Christmas Story

Christmas was a bit of a whirlwind this year. It was different in that GB and Big Daddy were not in town, leaving all the children and grandchildren to fend for ourselves. It was also different in that I was stone cold sober the entire time. Though I was sober, I had to refer back to the pictures to see what we actually did. It was quite a blur of activity. We started off the holidays a bit early and asked Parker and Chloe to have a sleep over to allow time for Chaney and Dan to prep for the family on Christmas eve and to get any last minute arrangements with Santa in line.

We made a special trip to Dewey's for some pizza. The girls each got to pick their own toppings for their half of the pizza. Chloe, always concerned about cholesterol and her girlish figure, chose sausage and bacon.

Parker chose pepperoni and pineapple. Surprisingly good! Ricker tried a piece of each to make sure they weren't poisonous.

We went home and watched "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" and EVERYONE (myself included) was in bed by 8:11. The girls were up at 6:00 sharp and we beat feet out the door to miss the snow to get donuts and last minute provisions. Then Rick and the girls spent the rest of the morning riding a sweet sugar buzz and making mixed CDs for the party that night.


We attended the Christmas Pageant at Webster Groves Presbyterian Church. Happy made it into town with his customary 83 seconds to spare and we slid into the pews just in time for the start of the service. Parker was spiffed up for the occassion and was wearing a DRESS! She looked beautiful.

Chloe had an actual speaking part (Behold, I bring you good news of great joy!). I can't tell if this is Chloe or not, but it is her gang of angels up there. If you want better pictures, get me a better zoom lens.

In customary Parker/Rick fashion, a snowball fight was started outside the church. Parker has excellent aim and missed David's head by a centimeter from about 25 feet away.

We had an impressive snowfall throughout the day on the 24th, which resulted in one of the most beautiful Christmas Eves I have seen in a while. This was the Hagemann's house. It really got everyone in the holiday spirit!

As with any Harkins/Loyd/Erwin/Hagemann gathering, there is never a shortage of food or booze. Shisha kept stating that she "just wasn't hungry", though I seem to have several pics that indicate the contrary. At one point I looked over and she was spooning mac and cheese onto a piece of garlic bread. Truly inspired.


This is David. I think it's safe to say that David and Shisha are dating. David is an excellent sport and participated in a pretty rowdy snowball fight. The fun lasted all the way up until Rick and Patrick, emboldened by countless Four Lokos, climbed out onto the roof and dumped a huge sheet of snow on him. I think they scared themselves straight and David took everything in stride. Good man.

WARNING: Four Loko consumption will cause you to spontaneously do the Robot at holiday parties. And it's not a good Robot. Other side effects include (as they were relayed to me) tingling skin, inability to feel your hands, poor judgement, itchy tongue, and a mysterious rash. Still not clear why the FDA banned this stuff.


hard to transition from Four Loko to your newest niece...On Saturday Rick and I rushed off to Fulton for some Erwin Family Holiday Action. Chase Marie was officially 6 months old on Christmas, and in lieu of a half birthday cake, she opted to dine on wrapping paper at any chance she saw.

I'll just have a little piece...

Why is Mom not letting me have any of this crinkly, colored goodness? Doesn't she know it's my half birthday?!?

Chase with Grandpa Erwin

Chase with Aunt Judy.

It became clear during this holiday season who the main planner is in this family. Here's a hint: It's not me. It's someone that decided to spend the holidays in warmer climates to prepare for our NYE trip. Chaney is second in line, but she took on the responsibility of the big Christmas Eve shin-dig. In a brief moment of clarity I realized, on December 23rd, that we did not have any plans for Christmas evening. Being the unselfish sort that I am, I offered up our house. Because I refuse to get stressed out about this (it's bad for Super, I am told), I high-tailed it to Trader Joes and purchased 2-3 of every frozen appetizer they sell. Rick got a ham. Viola! Dinner is served. Luckily I know my siblings are not picky as long as there is booze provided and I think everyone enjoyed the selection.

Who's this little pop tart? It's Ms. Chloe, donning her newest cami and hipster hat. She also received new boots and tights to add to her already impressive boots and tights collection.

Then we were robbed. Just kidding! This is Parker in her equal parts freaky and cute Panda mask. The plan is that this mask will allow Parker to continue to ride her bike to school in the increasingly frigid temperatures. She might also be able to hold up a convenience store or two.


All in all it was a wonderful Christmas season, though now I see why I was so exhausted on Sunday. Looking forward to some relaxation time with the family in Miami this weekend. Running around Miami with all 10 of us will certainly be restful, right? RIGHT?????

Big Day!

Super!!!

So we know the gender, but we can't say because we are waiting to get to Miami on Thursday with the GB/Big Daddy and Harkins sibling contingent to tell all of them. What we do know is that the baby is great, all limbs are accounted for and everything checked out. Super is a mover and a shaker for sure and was taking full advantage of the extra space in there. Both Rick and I couldn't believe how much movement there was (that I of course, couldn't feel). The ultrasound tech had some trouble seeing the cord, but I assured her that Super keeps a tidy womb and hides all cords out of view. He/She gets that from GB.

It's Thursday!!!!

And the dedicated POMBs (People of my blog) know that means it is time for an update on Super! At 19 weeks, he/she is still hovering around 6 inches (this time the baby is compared to a large bell pepper, thankfully moving off of the fruit, though I can't say I have ever seen a bell pepper that large either) and has packed on a few ounces since last week and is tipping the scales at 8-9 ounces. I plan to really focus on how much weight Super is putting on when I get weighed in at the doctor's office on Monday. It's not me, it's the baby.



Super is covered in a waxy white substance called vernix caseosa, which keeps our little bell pepper's skin from becoming chapped. Interesting to learn that the chapstick affection starts in the womb. I should probably send extra-teethy vibes to the baby this week as the permanent teeth buds are forming around this time. I think this might have been the week GB went on vacation or forgot to brush when she was carrying me, resulting in my not-quite-complete set of chompers. I'm pretty sure that's how it all works. Here's hoping Super gets its Dad's teeth. Super may also start sleeping this week. I think I will regularly start to invoke the "Shut up, my baby is sleeping" line when people start to annoy me now. You have been warned.

Some other baby at 19 weeks. GB-THIS IS NOT SUPER. You can tell it's not our child because of the slender calves, though I am excellent at this particular yoga move. I am about to have a panic attack at the thought of getting stuck in this pose in a cramped space for 20 weeks. Moving on...

Bring it On!

So guess who got their first Christmas gift this weekend?

You like my "editing" of this photo, no? In a brief moment of clarity, I figured out that it's probably not a great idea to advertise the address of our home in the unlikely event I have a crazy blog stalker. However, if any crazy blog stalkers would like to send Super or any other member of the Erwin clan some presents, I will be more than happy to provide you our address. IM me.

If you guessed Super, you'd be correct! Rick immediately made efforts to open the box, which were thwarted by yours truly. I am not sure what the protocol is for opening your unborn child's christmas gifts, but it's fun to drive Rick crazy with unopened presents, even if they aren't for him.

In an uncharacteristicly responsible and not procrastinatory move, I actually got all our gifts in the mail today. I cannot believe it. And I didn't even have to pay $150 to get them delivered in time for Christmas. This is truly a Christmas miracle. Though there will be no christmas cards this year. It was either one or the other. I am a mere mortal after all.

10 Days

I have been thinking a lot lately about the enormity of December 27th. For those of you not keeping track, that's the day we find out if Super is a boy or a girl. If we are having a son or a daughter. It's a decision that's already been made, but we are just not privy to it yet and it's a pretty massive one. I am sure there will be one day when we can't remember a time when we didn't have our son or daughter, much less know if it was a boy or a girl. I honestly don't know how you people that don't find out the sex until the birth do it.

I am torn because while I am excited about this next phase of our lives and our growing family, I don't want to forget or discount the amazing and exciting life Rick and I have had together for the past seven years. It's just about to get amazing and exciting in a whole new way. When Rick and I first started dating we would send eachother lyrics to songs that reminded us of our relationship or something equally sweet/nauseating (hey, it was long distance, you gotta do what you gotta do). Rick was always much better at it than I, and it has died down a bit though Rick the cassanova still sends me some that make me swoon to this day. Sometimes you hear a song 1,000 times and it never really makes an impact (or in this case, you get pretty sick of it) but then you actually listen and there's something that all of a sudden rings very true. That happened to me on the way to work this morning. So here's my lyrics for the day to my two person Erwin Team:

These are days you'll remember. Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this. And as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days you'll remember. When May is rushing over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in every hour. You'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days. These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break. These days you might feel a shaft of light make its way across your face. And when you do you'll know how it was meant to be. See the signs and know their meaning. It's true, you'll know how it was meant to be. Hear the signs and know they're speaking to you, to you.

Bust out the comb and tweezers!

It's week 18 and Super now has scalp hair and early eyebrows and eyelashes!!! Super, I am going to apologize in advance that it's quite likely that you are going to be the "eyelash runt" amongst your cousins. Parker and Chloe have eyelashes for miles and I have a sneaking suspicion that it's not from our side of the family (unless it's some bizarre recessive gene that none of the rest of us enjoy). Best to start addressing this at an early age. If you are a girl, I will start researching infant fake eyelashes from the jump. Don't worry, I have your back.

For your weekly fruit reference, Super is now the size of a cantaloupe and weighs about 7 ounces! Is anyone else glad it's winter and most fruits are out of season, because I might never look at a fruit salad the same way again. Why they can't be making non-edible references is beyond me. Sickos.

My Hero

Rick has often accused me of being a little jumpy and paranoid. He attributes these charming characteristics of mine to a fairly robust addiction to shows like Dateline, 48 Hours, and Forensic Files. Hell, there's a whole channel that airs nothing but shows about greusome criminal acts (i love you, Investigation Discovery). Sure, there was that one time when he was pointing out a crack in our stairwell to me, and after repeated prompts for me to move closer and closer to the top of the stairs to get a closer look, I asked "is this when you push me down the stairs?" I feel it's best to ask these questions up front. No one likes that type of surprise. Best offense is a good defense and all that. I call it being prepared. But I digress...


Rick called this morning to tell me about how he was startled by an object in the museum that he originally thought was an intruder before he turned on the lights. Our fearless leader ignored his flight response and went straight to his patented kicking and windmill fists of fury move. Then he turned on the lights.

Rick's justification for finding this stuffed bear so realistic: "It was wearing a vest."

Let this be a warning to any 2 foot tall, santa hat wearing, vest donning marauders out there: Rick Erwin has cat-like reflexes and will swing first and ask questions later.

The Adventures of Parker and Chloe

I tell ya, these girls are jet-set. This weekend they are spending time with Big Daddy and Gaddy in Kerrville, Tx. Oh yes, their Mom is there too.

They got tours of the ranch from Gaddy (background). It would appear that P found some antlers. She looks like quite the natural.

If you want to give your granddaughters extra incentive to come visit, I recommend procuring a BABY DEER! I guess it is officially being referred to as Lash. You will always be BABY DEER to me. Chloe seems to be quite the Deer Whisperer.

Parker seems a little less sure of the situation.

Endless hours were spent playing in the empty pool with cousin Ethan.

In the event Gaddy hadn't done the appropriate amount of research regarding care for a BABY DEER, Chloe brought a book on deer care and read it to him.

From Big Daddy's reports, it sounds like everyone is having a beautiful time in Kerrville. They better soak up the nice sunny weather and wildlife, because they are returning to a winter wonderland here in Missouri. Say "Hi!" to Gaddy and Lash for us!

Super Thursday-WEEK 17!!!

Looks like my grapefruit reference last week was a bit premature, because according to my trusty-dusty phone, Super is now the size of a grapefruit. It also says that Super is 6 inches, so clearly modifications in agriculture are generating monster sized fruit these days. I am also a bit confused by the weight they provide (5 ounces), which seems a little light for that size. Oh well, I don't think actual bones have started to form yet (also starts to happen this week), so that might pack on some pounds in the near future.

What also might pack on some pounds is the new layer of fat that is starting to form. Super's weight will be 2-6% fat at birth, so clearly we have a ways to go. I should start feeling some more drastic movements soon as the bones form and loud noises may also start to startle the baby. Lucky for me my family is so quiet and serene that this shouldn't be a problem over the holidays.

Bad timing

I don't recommend mixing grief and pregnancy to anyone. The lack of access to any mood altering substances during this time is a bit of a drag. I can't even exercise my way out of it because elevating my effort to anything that works up a decent sweat results in an inability to breathe. It forces you to actually face things and acknowledge what is going on in your life, and let's be real people, that's not the way we do things in this family. But I guess we don't really have much of a choice in this situation. What does seem to help is getting out of the house, so I was probably a bit over-excited about Parker's Holiday Program last night.

Parker seemed a little unsure of the situation at first. Or knowing her quality control issues, she might have been a bit nervous about the performance abilities of her fellow third graders. Or that she was underdressed compared to the girl next to her. No worries Sweet P, in this scenario, contrary to the rule which states otherwise, I think it is best to be under-dressed than over-dressed.

It was a mighty group. It's interesting to see the level of squirmy-ness decrease from the risers as these kids get older. No one fell off this year, which means it was a huge success.

Believe it or not, this is the excitement level increasing.

The 3rd Grade Class ultimately got their groove on with several songs which involved both choreography and sign language. I like to think that here, all the 3rd Graders are giving "the finger" to sadness (in reality I think they were pointing towards the north star or something equially precious).

So thanks again, P-nut, for once again raising my spirits. I know I can always count on you!

A word of advice

I get it. People are just trying to make us feel better and it's always hard to come up with the right thing to say in a situation where someone has lost someone (or something) close to them. But I'll tell ya what's not a really comforting exchange:

Person: How old was your dog?
Me: He was around 11.
Person: Well, that's pretty old for such a large dog.

WTF people? And this seems to be the more common of the comments we are getting. Imagine the human equivalent of that discussion:

Person 1: How old was your Dad?
Person 2: He was 80.
Person 1: Well, that's pretty good given the shorter life expectancy of males these days.

Just stick to the basics. Don't try to make me feel better by pointing out that he was old and big and was on borrowed time (apparently). Between this and the frequently asked, "So was this an accident?" question when we told people we were pregnant, I am becoming more and more convinced that people very rarely think before they speak.

Sad

Some things are so sad that you don't want to write them down, because then they become a part of your history. They become real. And I don't want this to be real, but I guess there's no changing the facts. We had to put our sweet Bexar/Bear down yesterday. When the time came, there wasn't really any denying what had to be done, and I know he wasn't really there any more, which made the decision easy. I am trying to focus on the Bexar that would knock you over for his leash and then proceed to walk himself with his leash in his mouth for a mile. The Bexar that would lean into your legs in a loving "leg hug" until you thought your knees would snap. The Bexar that could maneuver his cold biscuit nose under your arm so your hand was perfectly positioned for head scratches at his will. There are so many wonderful memories, and it's impossible to pick a favorite. He will always be a huge part of our family's history as our biggest "lap dog" (maxing out at 109 pounds at his heaviest), the first dog to live in four houses, and essentially giving Rick and me a trial run at parenthood.

Thank you buddy, for being a faithful and loving companion for the past 11 or so years. You taught us that getting slobbery just means you are sharing the love and that massive amounts of fur equals an excellent cuddle buddy on cold winter days (and makes all that sweeping well worth it). We will all miss you. Go lay down now.

16 WEEKS!!!

While I hate Tuesdays, I luurve Thursdays, because that means our dear Super is one week older! Super is now the size of a large orange (can't they just say grapefruit?) and weighs approximately 3.5 ounces. Looks like I am not the only one who put on a little weight at Thanksgiving!

Toenails are starting to form (hopefully Super won't click-click-click his/her toenails all over the house like someone else we know) and primitive hearing starts now but won't be able to hear fully until 24 weeks. Looks like now might be a good time to start easing up on the f and s-bombs. I am looking at you GB...

And what I have feared the most, hiccuping often starts at this point but is "infrequent". Why would a grown adult be afraid of hiccups, you might ask? Well, as the only adult I know that gets hiccups a minimum of once a day, this is the one trait that I am hoping I have not passed along to my child. If my own hiccups often get up enough momentum to make me feel like I am going to barf, I can only imagine the sensation of "in stereo" hiccups coming from both my own diaphragm and my womb...

Have I mentioned that I hate Tuesdays?

For whatever reason, Tuesdays are always especially difficult for the b-dog. And as a result, they are very difficult for the other two non-canine residents of this home. B started to act a little funny yesterday afternoon (after a long day of sleeping) and it just seemed to go downhill over the course of the evening. In honor of the recently departed Leslie Nielsen, I felt this clip aptly depicts how I felt long about 4:00 this morning (the good times travelled into Wednesday):





So I should start with the good news that he slept from around 8:30 in the evening to 2:30 in the morning. Then he started crying. I went down, helped him up, and got him some snacks. I also let him outside for a potty break and then got him to lay back down. That didn't last long. I should mention here that the acoustics in our house are phenomenal. Probably has something to do with the size. Either way, when he's up and walking, all you hear is a constant creaking and clicking of the claws. I am thinking of shipping him to Guantanamo as a torture device. All you hear is click/scrape...scrape/click...nonstop. Until he stops. Then you worry why he stopped. So I got up and checked and sure enough, christmas came early in the form of an accident on our newly steam cleaned kitchen tile floors (FYI, grout is a like a sponge for pee. now you know. though this was not pee). Clean that up and lay on the couch while he circles me like a furry, clicking landshark. Finally he lays down and I head upstairs, circa 3:15. It's then that the heartburn sets in. So I pop some tums, lay back down and I guess he fell asleep because I didn't hear any movement until around 4-ish, when I heard the click, click, scrape, pee noise. I then sent Ricker down, because I was beginning to lose my mind at this point. While I was listening to my dutiful husband clean up the pee, I rubbed my eyes in preparation for sleep when I must have gotten something lodged back by my optic nerve. I then had to get up and flush my eye out while Rick remained downstairs.

I finally drifted off to sleep around 5:30, only to be startled back awake by what can only be described as the squirrel version of WWE right outside our window. That kept up to varying degrees until I decided to just give up and get on with the day. I will spend the remainder of today avoiding bear traps and wet paint and hoping things improve tonight.

Data Collection

We had a visit with Dr. Jostes today to check the status of Super. No fancy ultrasounds this visit, but I did get all my stats taken and hear the heartbeat. I have officially gained 9 pounds (four of them being in the last month) which Dr. J said is perfect for where I am with my pregnancy. After my performance over Thanksgiving holiday, I was convinced that it was going to be a solid 10 pound gain, so I was thrilled with just 4. The baby is growing at the perfect rate based on the size of my belly and Super's heart rate was around 140 bpm.

The next appointment is December 27th, again after another holiday weekend. This is the big one where we learn the sex. What say ye, People of my blog (Pombs)...Boy or Girl?

Myopia

I am always nagging my clients at work to look at the big picture. They often get tunnel vision on one aspect of a site and don't see the project as a whole, which often delays progress and frequently takes things in the wrong direction. So when Rick and I were counting off all the annoying things in our life which are contributing to general malaise and continuous lack of sleep, I realized I should take my own advice and look at the big picture. It was Thanksgiving after all.

The basement flooded on Wednesday night. And we're not talking a few seeps here and there. We are talking running water from the wall window (where George Burns lives or lived, he may have been "displaced" during our cleanup efforts-I hear the sewer system is lovely this time of year). The silver lining of a having a basement that floods is that you have a basement to begin with. And that means we have a lovely house that keeps us warm and for the most part, dry. We have a house because we both are blessed with jobs we enjoy.

Bear/Bexar continues to use the house as his own personal bathroom. In fact, he seems to prefer the privacy of pooping in the house. Beyond recognizing the humor in the fact that we seem to have the only Bear that does not shit in the woods, I also recognize that because of Bexar, our family has had a faithful and loving companion for 11 years. He has lifted our moods and licked our faces for his entire life. He has always been there for us, so it's only fair that we are here to clean up an accident or give him a lift off the floor when he needs us.

With big families with big personalities like mine, there are inevitably going to be annoyances. They may be due to scheduling, personalities, a crazy pregnant lady who has violent mood swings, or just someone's in a funk and isn't feeling the holiday spirit. But I can't imagine not having them around during the holidays. Sure, we can be a scary bunch that seems to take joy in dishing out endless amounts of crap, but that's the way we roll. It's very comforting to have the endless support and understanding that a family can provide and I wouldn't change a thing.

And while I wouldn't ever categorize Super as an annoyance, the pregnancy does come with it's own set of challenges. I can't lift our wonder-mutt in and out of the car, I can't seem to get the deposits to match the withdrawals (Patrick knows what I mean), I can't booze it up with the siblings over the holidays, and I generally feel strange most of the time. But, I am thankful that my body is capable of carrying a baby and the absolute miracle of the experience. I cannot believe that by this time next year, our Super will be around 6 months old. And for those of you keeping track and waiting patiently for the Super Update, he/she is the size of a large APPLE as of yesterday! Crazy town.

So because of this timely holiday I was able check myself and realize that all these little pesky things contribute to one big, wonderful thing and for that, I am thankful.

A day to remember

Seven years ago today Rick and I went on our first date. He picked me up and we went to dinner at the Boathouse and then, because I had no idea what to do with this artsy fella, I took him to the City Museum. Odd how things work out. It was a perfect date and we never looked back.

To demonstrate what loving support Rick provides in this duo, I present this recent exchange:

K: My pants barely fit over this gut.
R: It's not a gut. It's a baby.

In other equally exciting news that may not seem like anything to those not living in our world, BEXAR/BEAR WAGGED HIS TAIL TODAY!!! Now some of you might think this is NBD, but for a dog that mysteriously stopped moving his tail about two months ago, this is very significant. You have no idea how sad a wagless tail is on such a sweet dog. Sure, it was just a few swipes back and forth, but I almost cried. I think he knew it was a special day too.

Birthday Wishes

Happy birthday to my Dad, Pat Harkins. Hope you had a great day. We miss you!

Don't lose focus

We were contacted on Saturday morning by the Hagemann girls and were notified that our attendance was requested at some garage sale action. I think, more specifically, they needed someone to drive them garage sale-ing, but we ask no questions. We just show up and are ready to hang. We drove around looking for garage sales, with little to no success. We did see lots of Boy Scouts running around on some can drive thing. When I pointed out all the boys to Chloe and Parker, Chloe quickly got us back on track, "Kay, we are looking for garage sales, not boyfriends."

She's quite the dedicated shopper.

Super Thursday-Week 14

It's Thursday, so you know what that means.....time for a Super Update! Super is now 3.5 inches in size (the length of a large lemon!) and weighs about 1.5 ounces. Super's thyroid gland is starting to function and has a fine hair called lanugo starting to grow all over its body (got that from its Dad). Super can now make facial expressions and is constantly moving its hands and is starting to suck its thumb.

Is there a way to break a child of thumb sucking while still in the womb?

This one's for you, Granny

This is my great grandmother, Granny. She lived next door to us growing up in San Antonio. Granny's love language was spending of time, and boy did I spend a lot of time with her. She taught me how to play Gin, make cream cheese icing and fudge, told great stories of way back when, and fostered a love for the gameshow Jeopardy.

Yesterday's announcement that Prince William and Kate were getting married reminded me of another of Granny's great loves: The Royal Family. She had tons of books about them and loved to go through them with me. She wasn't a huge fan of Prince Charles (who is, really?) but liked Princess Diana, though she was a bit "common". I remember being relieved that Granny wasn't around when Princess Diana passed, because she would have been devastated both by the death and that Diana was dating an Arab. Ok, he was Egyptian, but methinks Granny might not have found that acceptable either. She was a bit "old school".

This was one of the books Granny gave me that we used to go through all the time. I will make sure to go through it in preparation for the royal festivities.

While I am sad that Granny is not around to watch this wedding (I am sure she would DVR it for repeat viewings and commentary), I am sure she's got a much better view now. I will watch the wedding while eating fudge and cream cheese icing and missing my great grandmother.

At least they have concrete floors

Rick and I run a tight ship at Casa de Erwin. You mess with us, we will show you who is boss. So when Bexar/Bear had four accidents (three of which were of the numero dos variety) in the house in a 24 hour period, Ricker decided he would show B that actions have consequences and took B to work today so he could be under strict supervision.

Of course, we weren't really trying to punish the ol' boy, and it's a good thing too. B has spent the morning getting taken on walks by Bob Cassilly himself and being fawned over by the City Museum staff. I guess having little to no control over your bowels has its perks after all. Hope they have the power washer at the ready!

Update from Kerrville

It's not all candy-talk and bagel-complainin' in our family. Thankfully there are a few people that actually lead constructive and interesting lives. The leader of this interesting, do-good team is my grandfather, Gaddy. Gaddy lives on a ranch in Kerrville, Texas. Because Gaddy is one of those super-capable manly-men, it was no surprise to us that he had rescued a fawn this summer. The fawn was nicknamed "BABY DEER!!!" (you have to scream it) by toddler Jocelyn who was, suffice it to say, more than a little enchanted by BABY DEER! I think it's name at the time was also Lash, but no one really called it that. From a family who had cats named Little Kitty and Big Kitty, can you really expect more creative animal names?

This was BABY DEER in June 2010. He was living in Gaddy's fenced in back yard area and would sleep in Gaddy's bedroom. It was about the cutest thing in the world.

Bigs feeding BABY DEER! Can you handle the cuteness?

We had been wondering about the status of BABY DEER over the last few months, but were almost afraid to ask lest Gaddy let it go. We hate goodbyes. So imagine how thrilled we were to receive a video update from our cousin Elizabeth on the status of BABY DEER! This is my first effort to upload from youtube, so my apologies if it doesn't work.

According to Elizabeth, BABY DEER has full access to the house and was seen begging for food during dinner. I can't stand it. I also can't wait to see how this all plays out. I count on my Texas cousins to keep the updates coming!

Bagel Buyer Beware

So there was some confusion regarding a previous post. Apparently some people thought I was complaining about the actual hole that occurs naturally in the center of most bagels. Seriously? People, do I seem that unreasonable? Sure, the great bagel debate of last week might have painted such a picture and had certainly festered in the minds of both Erwins, which almost resulted in there not being a Friday Morning Breakfast this week. Rick was terrified of his wife jumping over the counter and attacking the nice (lazy with inattention to detail or any quality control standards) bagel lady. But I convinced him that after last night's dinner where I was informed that my spinach tortilla veggie wrap was normally serviced on a stale, hard white tortilla, so there was no sense sending it back, that I was all out of rage for the food service industry. Both he and the bagel lady were safe.

This morning I was lucky enough to get photographic evidence of the aforementioned burned out hole on not one, but BOTH our bagels at our Friday Morning Breakfast.

This is my bagel. Six cheese with plain light cream cheese. No, I haven't already taken a bite out of it. The hole you see was there upon delivery. What is not so obvious in this picture is that the burned out section continues from the south, up in a northeastern counter-clockwise direction on the eastern half of the bagel. Covered up by cream cheese. Naturally.

Though it may look like Rick has nacho cheese (which would be awesome) on his bagel, this is actually the jalepeno salsa cream cheese in some strange lighting. Rick actually got the shiz end of the stick this week and this better shows the burned out conditions that we are dealing with. Again, this is how the bagel looked at handoff from the bagel lady/my nemesis.

Rick, always being the happy customer and reluctant to admit when he's wrong (he was adamant in his stance that I was being irrational earlier), crunched and flaked his way through his burned, scratchy bagel. We both vowed to try a different type of bagel next week, and if the same thing happens again, I am coming over the counter. Watch out bagel lady; consider this a warning shot.

So long 1st Trimester!

My iPhone pregnancy app (Thanks Rick!) says that I am now 13 weeks pregnant today, and officially out of my first trimester. Whew! The "new weeks" always start on Thursdays, so I will now be updating the public on the Super Size and any new developments on Thursdays. GET PUMPED UP PEOPLE!

According to my phone (do we even need doctors any more, I am sure there is an ultrasound app), Super is now around 3 inches; the size of a large plum. Super weighs 1.5 oz and is now starting in inhale and exhale amniotic fluid and has fully formed fingerprints. WooHOO! It also says that I should be starting to show around this week, but I think that my extra long torso is just making it look like I had a big meal. Maybe next week!

Common Denominator

Received these disturbing images from big brother Patrick yesterday. In descending order of enthusiasm:

Congrats buddy, in the apparent sea of serial killers, you are king. The half-hearted thumbs up put you over the top.

There was really a tie for second as these two were the only ones willing to touch the more potent center portion of the AJ. This guy won second because of his casual demeanor. He almost looks comfortable holding that thing. Almost.

Stare too long at this crustache and you will turn to stone.

This guy probably wanted his identity concealed, but Patrick wasn't having it.

And finally, what is clearly a forced situation. This is also the same face I make when I pick up a dead rat. Patrick clearly has some dirt on this poor woman to make her take this picture.

What all of these people have in common is that they are more than a little dead behind the eyes. Whether that's because they love AJs or were forced to hold them for the picture by my taser-wielding brother (it was bring your taser to work day) remains to be seen.

slippery slope

I tried to avoid maternity clothes as long as possible, and thanks to some sort of contraption that keeps your pants from falling down while you walk around in public with them unbottoned (tres chic), I have been able to do so up until this point. I probably could keep it up for another month or so, but I have been lured in by the sweet spandex contraption that is the maternity jean. I dragged my trusty Ricker to the store with me on Saturday and after much fussing, messing around with some sort of tummy pillow that is supposed to give me an idea of what I will look like in 3 months (spoiler alert: terrifying!), and hearing Rick repeatedly tell me "they look like jeans", I found my first pair. I figured best to just throw in the towel now and be comfortable and get my money out of these things than to fight it and risk that our child will be born with zipper marks across its forehead from too-tight jeans. I was ready to embrace comfortable living right up until I saw the commercial for the pajama jean.

I then realized it's a slippery slope when it comes to seeking comfort in clothes. One minute I am wearing stylish maternity jeans, the next I am sporting pajama jeans and (they fit any body type!) and a ratty sorority tee to Aldi's with my cat carrier to pick up antibiotics to treat my invasive bed sores. Here's hoping I find a middle ground!

I trust your judgement

So someone may have mentioned to me that I've been a little irrational lately. Though I say that even in a non-hormonal state I would still think it's not acceptable to serve your customer a bagel with a huge burnt out air bubble in it (filled in with cream cheese mind you) and want to return the bagel to the lovely (read: negligent) bagel distributor that provided me with this busted bread item. And all of a sudden I am called crazy. I call it passionate about breakfast.

I need your opinion. There's been a situation brewing in the women's bathroom at my office building. There is one bathroom facility on our floor that all the offices on our floor share (there are only four offices and multiple stalls in the bathroom, so it's not as horrid as it sounds). BUT, there is a person that puts toilet paper down on the seat and then LEAVES IT THERE when they are finished for the next person to, I presume, dispose of as we see fit. I have stumbled into the stall with the impromptu toilet seat cover (ISC) a few times and it drives me insane every time. This made me crazy pre-pregnancy, so I don't think I am being too nuts here (though some could argue that I was a bit "off" before as well). I have had my eye out for the ISC-leaver for TWO YEARS and I think I figured out who it was today. I was "thisclose" to saying something to her, but then I heard my husband's sweet voice in my head telling me once again "don't go all crazy on this poor innocent person". So what say ye, people o' my blog, do I:

a) Stop being crazy and use another stall and get over it
b) Ask the lady politely to tidy up her mess
c) Ask the "stall pig" why she thinks that somehow it's not ok for her a$$ to touch the seat, but it's ok for her to leave her a$$ napkins all over the toilet for someone else to pick up.

I'm leaning towards C, but wanted to get a consensus before moving forward.

Out of the closet

So I just realized that almost everyone that reads this blog already knows this, but for the few of you that are out of town or don't see me on a regular basis, I am pregnant! Since most people knew, I felt it was a bit strange to not be talking about this HUGE thing that is happening on the blog that is supposed to be about our lives.

This picture was taken on 11/1/10 at our second appointment. We call the baby "Super".

We found out on September 13th and we have been "Super-excited" since then (sorry). I have not had any real sickness issues and have just had endless sleeping abilities. I also think my superpower is to inflict my pregnancy symptoms on those around me. It's not teleportation or mind-reading, but for now, I will take it. The girls in my office have both been nauseous and tired, Mom has had some strange cravings, and Patrick's his usual moody self (this may or may not be related to my pregnancy).

The due date is May 20, 2011, so we will be adding to the already awesome group of May birthdays in our family! I will keep you all in the loop on the goings on as the adventures of Super and the Erwins continue!

Drunk with power

I never really thought people were paying attention. So I made one little comment about Almond Joys, never imagining the far reaching influence I would have. It's like the blog equivalent of the butterfly effect. I received this troubling photo from my dear friend Kristen on Wednesday:

"Should I be concerned?" was the attached message.

Kristen and Dave are newlyweds and imagine Kristen's surprise when she noticed the AJ in the grocery bag after Dave returned to the store. As a dutiful blog follower, she contacted me immediately. Look, I am not saying there's a guarantee he's a maniac, but I'd sleep with one eye open. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that. If he starts leaving you love notes made with random letters cut out of magazines, it's time to get worried.

This blog has taken a strange turn of late, and I promise to get off the candy topic soon. Maybe next week. Or when you guys stop sending me stuff about it. Be safe out there!

Building my army

My brother Patrick and I have been involved in a t-shirt exchange program for some time. This has resulted in both of us having the most awesome t-shirt collections on the planet. Basically, any time you find a t-shirt you want for yourself, you buy one for the other member of the t-shirt exchange. It's wonderful. So when Rick found an especially timely t-shirt last week, we had to order it for my dear big brother.



It arrived yesterday and it would seem that Patrick was less than enthusiastic about donning the Swedish Fish t-shirt we purchased for him....

Meet Jack, Patrick's dog, and the lower maintenance of all the Harkins/Loyd/Erwin pets. Unless you have food sitting out. Or food in the sink. Or a trash can in your house. In any of those scenarios he's a a bit of a food bandit. But health-wise he's pretty easy when compared to Chance and B.

To answer your question, Patrick, I think you can still wear the shirt even if you don't like Sewdish (as you call them) Fish. Though it would probably be a fun conversation starter. You can tell anyone that asks about how they contribute to your dental problems and potential diabetes. The ladies will swoon.

You can read all about how this started in the comments section of this post.