By Carly (with an 11th Demandment from me)

THE 10 DEMANDMENTS OF CHIT-CHATTING WITH PREGNANT WOMEN (plus one)

Demandment 1
THOU SHALT NOT comment how big a pregnant woman looks. We (pregnant women) are bigger than normal. We know this. We see ourselves everyday and notice how our wardrobe dwindles until all we can wear are huge sweatshirts, our husband's pajama bottoms, and flip-flops. We do not need anyone else informing us of how big we are. Exclamations such as "Damn!", "Good Lawd!", and "You look like you're gonna pop!" do not help the situation. This especially goes for persons commenting on the appearance of a pregnant woman that you have never even met.

Demandment 2
THOU SHALT NOT ask how many babies a pregnant woman is having. This pretty much goes in line with "Demandment 1." Asking how many babies we are having is just as bad as shouting "You are freakishly huge!" It doesn't make for a pleasant day. If we are having multiples we will let you know, otherwise, assume we are having one.

Demandment 3
THOU SHALT NOT call a pregnant woman "Little Momma" every time you see her. You may think you're being cute, but just realize that you are not the only one calling us this. As soon as you pass us and shout out "Hi Little Momma", someone is right behind you saying the exact same thing. When we pregnant women hear this 7-8 times a day, everyday, it tends to wear on our nerves. If you must say something, say "Good morning" or "Hi", like you did before we were afflicted with pregnancy.

Demandment 4
THOU SHALT NOT comment on the "cuteness" of a pregnant woman's "belly." This goes hand in hand with "Demandment 3." You are not the only one clever enough to call a woman's pregnant physique "cute." Everyone says it every day. You are not clever. "Cute" went out the window when we first noticed that our jeans were a little snug and had to buy our first pair of maternity pants. By the sixth month we are not cute, do not feel cute, and hate all cute people.

Demandment 5
THOU SHALT NOT hold meaningless conversation about pregnancy with a pregnant woman. For co-workers and acquaintances: If you could not hold a conversation with us before because you couldn't think of anything to talk about, then please do not use our pregnancy as a topic for the next 9 months. Yes, it's fun for us to talk about the pregnancy at first, but during the last trimester we're talked out. We just want our precious little parasite to be ripped from our bodies so we can get back to normal. We do not have time to hash out details of the pregnancy to everyone. If we weren't best friends then, we won't be now.

Demandment 6
THOU SHALT NOT touch a pregnant woman's stomach without permission. This is a biggie. Just because something is growing inside of us causing our mid-section to protrude does not give you justification to touch it. We're sorry our bellies may be in your personal space while waiting in a line or in a crowded area. We can not help it. If we have not known you for more than 5 years, or do not talk to you on a daily basis about something other than our future child, than hands off. If you touch our stomachs, we're touching your crotch, so be ready.

Demandment 7
THOU SHALT NOT discuss your prior pregnancy woes unless asked. We do not want to hear about how awful your pregnancy was, unless we have specifically inquired about it. We don't care how swollen your feet were. We only care about the fact that our feet are the size of an elephant's and we no longer have ankles. You whining about your swollen feet does not help our situation. Do not tell us to prop our feet up. It doesn't help. Nothing does. It's hopeless.

Demandment 8
THOU SHALT NOT discuss how bad your delivery was. For those of us having our first child, we have no idea what to expect. No book or video in the world is going to prepare us for child birth. Hearing you talk about how arduous your delivery was and how you were "ripped from top to bottom" does not help in any way (and I, personally, cannot believe you would actually tell someone, anyone, that). Regardless of how bad your delivery went, if asked by a pregnant woman how it was, lie.

Demandment 9
THOU SHALT NOT tell a pregnant woman how miserable she looks. We are pregnant...not fat...and therefore, not jolly. Although we may look "cute", we don't always feel like showing it. There is something inside of us kicking our innards every minute, we have to go to the bathroom 100 times a day and our backs hurt. We're sorry that, at times, we can't suck it up and put on a happy face. You telling us we look miserable just reinforces the fact that we're unhappy and are failing miserably at trying to hide it.

Demandment 10
THOU SHALT NOT inquire as to our plan after childbirth and then pass judgment. Do not act shocked if we decide to go back to work after our child is born. What is this, the 1950s? Women do not have to go back to work only in times of war any more. Some of us are the breadwinners and have no choice. I, personally, have bills to pay, such as cell phones, cable, groceries, daycare, etc. Now you may say to yourself, "You wouldn't have those daycare bills if you stayed home with that precious bundle of joy." Even if I did stay home, if you think I'm going to spend more than 5 hours a day with this screechy "bundle of joy," you are sadly mistaken. Mommy needs her "Me" time. Besides, who's going to love and nurture my child if they're home with me all day?

An extra Demandment from me for after the baby is born...
THOU SHALT NOT speak of being tired in the presence of the parents of a newborn.  My baby is 29 years old and I still remember wanting to strangle anyone who said the words "I'm tired" to me in the first three weeks after he was born.  You're tired?  You can take a nap...whenever you want.  You can sleep more than two hours in a row.  You don't have to make bottles, wash baby clothes or try to comfort a crying baby all on five hours sleep in the last twenty-four hours.  There is no tired like newborn parent tired.


Below is the best grandma present I received. If you have a baby or if you're going to have a baby, you need one of these. My grandbaby is almost three years old and we still use this every day...

Guess the Breed

My friend Carly bought the puppy you see in the pictures below. She isn't sure of the breed, but lots of people are guessing St. Bernard.

For around $100 a person can send their dog's DNA to be tested. Carly and I considered having a contest on my blog and charging people $1 to make a guess as to Lily Faye's breed. The $1 would be used toward the testing and the winner would receive a lovely Major Award. We were going to donate any money over the cost of the DNA test to the local Humane Society.

However, I have discovered that I'm too lazy to create a PayPal account. Maybe tomorrow.

In the meantime, what kind of puppy mix do you think Carly bought? Lily Faye is 6 weeks old.

Today was Bosses...Boss's...Boss'...whatever...

For Boss's Day, we like to feed our bosses.

So, we cooked pie...



...and lots of other stuff...

...and we ate too much.

From our "WTF" Department

A local blog did a post about these today.

The device is called the Kush and it's supposed to support your breasts while you sleep and comes in three handy sizes. My friend Carly pointed the blog post out to me and asked me if this is the miracle product I've been waiting for. I told her that this thing would do nothing except annoy me and end up wedged in places that don't need wedging.

However, if someone invents something that would keep my breasts from sliding into my armpits when I lay on my back, I want to be notified immediately.

Lather...Rinse...Re-Feet

Eavesdrop on Laurie and Carly in the conference room with all their work friends on Administrative Assistants' Day...

Carly: This cake is delicious...

Laurie: It sure is.

Carly: ...on this most holiest of days.

Laurie: I like cake.

Carly: I wonder what else they'll do for us today.

Laurie: There's ice cream, too.

Carly: I think someone should wash our hair with their feet...on this most holiest of days.

Laurie: (turning to whoever was sitting beside me) I like cake.

Carly: This is good cake.

Laurie: (looking at Carly) Wait...

Carly: What?

Laurie: I think you said that wrong.

Carly: What? Most holiest of days?

Laurie: No, the other thing. You said...heee heeee...you said...hahahah...YOU SAID...HAHAHAHAHA...

Carly: (looking at me like I've lost my mind) What?

Laurie: You said, "Wash our...HAHAHAHAHAAA...hair with their feet." It should be, "Wash our FEET with their hair." HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

Carly: I did! Hahaha!!! I did say that! HAHAHAHA!!

Everybody: What's so funny?

Laurie: She said...HAHAHAH...

Carly: I said...HAHAHAHAHA....

Laurie and Carly: Can you see it...washing our hair... HAHAHAH...with...hahahahaha... THEIR FEEEEEEEEEEETTTTT!!!!!

Laurie and Carly: HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!

Everybody: Hmmmmmm. Too much sugar.

Laurie and Carly: HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My New Philosophy

My house still has a blue roof from Hurricane Ike and my back siding still hasn't been fixed which allows water to soak my carpet if we get a driving southerly rain.

My dad's lymphoma has decided to make a small return appearance. It's exactly the same type he had three years ago and the doctor says the chemo now is even less toxic than it was when he was first treated and he's confident dad will kick the cancer to the curb again this time.

My son and his family will be moving into their new house soon, I have a Spindletop Spin rest stop to organize and a class reunion to help plan. Those are all good things. Yes, they are.

For a couple of weeks, I'll be covering the desk of a very busy co-worker. Yesterday, I found out that two other people whose desks I cover also had to be out Monday for one reason or another.


My new philosophy...

A friend e-mailed me this morning and asked how things went yesterday (work-wise) and I said, "It was fine, once I decided to give up. It all became much easier after that."

I wasn't being sarcastic. At about 9:00 a.m. yesterday morning I thought, "I can only do what I can do. I'm not going to worry about any of it." After that, nothing bothered me and I just muddled through putting out fires and hoping for the best.

Then, I drank a margarita for supper.

And, you know what? This morning, the office was still here, the world didn't end and I don't have swine flu.

So, here's my advice to you: Stop trying to swim upstream, take a deep breath and go with the flow. It's quite liberating.

Note:
The brilliant Carly says I should create a t-shirt that says, "Everything's fine...since I gave up." She's so clever.

Ava's First Trip to the Fair

The merry-go-round was zooming. Ava was not impressed. Notice the older little girl holding on for dear life. This video was actually taken after the ride had slowed down a little.

"Yes, you may worship me."

"You talkin' to me?"

"I would like to thank the Academy."


This one's for Carly. It's an Elvis quilt.

"Warm, sweet, tasty...I like it."

"Then I want to touch a cow, then I want ice cream, then I want to touch a pig...."


"Look! Pork-ka-bobs!"



"Don't anybody move."

"Merry-go-round? Mom, are you sure this is a good idea?"


"These are my people."



For more pictures click here.

Carly Wins a Major Award!

The fabulous Carly has won a limerick contest. The major award was two free tickets to the Taste of Gumbo event in Port Arthur. Gumbo is always major.

Here's her limerick:

Said Thibodeaux to his brother Lou

"Suppose we use beer instead of roux?"

Responded his kin,

"You know something my friend?

We could even rename it gum-brew!"

Huh? What? Huh?

LAST WEEK...

Carly: I'm $2 short to get free shipping on my Amazon.com order. Do you want to order something?

Laurie: Sure. Let me check my "shopping cart." (Note: My Amazon.com "shopping cart" has so much stuff in it that I have nightmares that Amazon will accidentally order all that stuff and I'll have to get a second job to pay for it all.)

Laurie: I'll order "Paranormal Uncensored." It's written by that guy I took a ghost hunting class from in Lafayette.

Carly: You owe me $17.00

Laurie: Weird! I have exactly $17.00 in my wallet. It's a sign.

FIVE DAYS LATER:

Carly (handing me my book): Here you go.

Laurie: What's that? Hey, that book's written by the guy I took that ghost hunting class from.

Carly (looking at me with a strange look on her face): Uh...you ordered it...Amazon...free shipping...

Laurie: Oh, yeah. HAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!! How much do I owe you?

Carly: Uh...you paid me...$17...exact change...you made a big deal about the fact that you had the exact change.

Laurie: Hahahahaha!!!!! Right, right, right. Thanks.

Carly looked at me again with a puzzled, worried look on her face then quietly walked away.

Did I mention that Carly's only 27-ish? When she's 53-ish she'll understand.

What will we drink?!

Our office doesn't have water coolers, but we are furnished free bottled water. The refrigerator has a filter on it and so does the sink. My water pitcher at home also has a filter.

Occasionally, we run out of bottled water at work which was a temporary cause for alarm recently. I say temporary, because as Carly and I were wondering what we were going to drink since we were out of bottled water, we remembered that the sink had a water filter.

Then, we started talking about how spoiled we've become water-wise. We pondered how much salty, possibly polluted beach water and urine tainted swimming pool water we've swallowed in our lives, mostly unintentionally.

We reminisced about hot summer days drinking water out of the water hose, after it had been lying in the grass among the creepy crawlies. We also found that we shared a favorite childhood bath time activity...sucking on the wet washcloth.

Gosh. I haven't done that in weeks.

Employee Happiness Kit

Received in an e-mail...

Actual co-worker test subject...


It works!!

Step Away From the Television

Until my son and his family sell their house and get settled into a place here in Beaumont, I have custody of their HDTV and their dog.




My old television was twenty years old. No exaggeration. It looked something like this...



I had no idea what a difference it would make to watch television on a huge (by my standards) 42 inch high definition television as opposed to a 26 inch old timey television.



Every night, the grand-fabulous puppy and I lay on the couch hypnotized by all of the high definition wonderfulness. I watch things I don't even care about just because it's all so amazing.



So, Carly keeps asking me how far along I've gotten in Guitar Hero,



I've had my most recent Netflix movies two weeks and still haven't watched them,



Donna is pissed because I've only read two chapters of Twilight,



I'm paying $30 a month to a gym that I haven't seen the inside of for weeks and...




...my blog posts are more and more reliant on pictures than on writing.

How about something sweet to go with your coffee this morning?

This is a video of 4 year old Hunter Hayes from about 10 years ago playing accordian and singing Jambalaya. Click here for information on Hunter today. (Thanks, Carly!)

Thanks for making me a beautiful blanket, Aunt Carly

Mmmmmm...cake

This blog is being temporarily interrupted by my NetFlix addiction. Surely, when the new wears off, I will return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

In the meantime, my friend Carly sent me these pictures of a cake a friend of hers made for her husband (the friend's husband, not Carly's husband) who was celebrating his 60th birthday. The family joke is that his wife is killing him by feeding him junk food all the time, his favorite of which is Sonic.

This one's for Carly...

My friend Carly and I are totally addicted to our Nintendo DS Lites. This is Cory testing his brain age while holding Ava. He's multi-talented.

Surprise!

Today, some of my friends at work gave me a surprise Grand-Fabulous-Mother luncheon and a wonderful basket of baby things. The wonderful baby things included the adorable blanket in the picture above which was made by the ever-talented Carly. The "card" was created by each of the girls writing messages under the lid of the baby bin.

A word of advice if planning a surprise party for me. There is no need to fret that I will ever catch on. This whole thing was planned, literally, right under my nose. All of the girls told me of various slips and near slips that they were sure had given away their secret. I never had a clue.

• I walked up to the table and saw Carly aiming a camera at me and assumed she was just trying out a new camera.
• I saw the huge gift on the conference room table and thought it was something someone was working on for someone else.
• I was at my own surprise Grand-Fabulous-Mother Shower and, for at least 10 minutes, I still thought it was also a birthday party for Shannon.

They told me that the next time they plan to surprise me, they're just going to include me in the planning. It'll be a lot easier that way. Believe me, I'll never catch on.

Thanks Carly, Mary Beth, Shannon, Stephanie, Sue and Darlene. You guys made my day.

It's My "Dick in a Box" Box

A few days ago, I did this post. You should watch the second video again, just so you can also have that song stuck in your head like me.

A couple of days later, I did this post explaining that I can't walk toward Carly's office without thinking about dicks in boxes. Carly read the second post and immediately went to work, on her break time, of course. She called me and said, "When you have time, I have something for you." When someone says they have something for me, I suddenly have lots of time.

I went to Carly's office where she handed me this:

Not Good

A couple of days ago, during our lunch hour, Carly and I were looking for the Saturday Night Live video of the Sanjaya spoof on her computer. While searching for that video, we came across the Justin Timberlake Christmas video which is a lovely little ditty about dicks in boxes. Both videos are below.

(At the mention of dicks in boxes, those of you who didn't click on the second video when I first posted it rushed over there, didn't you?)

Now I have a problem. Actually, I have two problems. The first problem is, since I watched the video, the slightest thing will cause that song to run through my head and I'm afraid I'm going to accidentally start singing it out loud ("It's my dick in a box.")

The second problem is, every time I open the door to go to Carly's part of the office, all I can think of is dicks in boxes. It's getting really hard (no pun intended) to come up with excuses to explain why I have a big smile on my face every time I open that door.

Don't Say I Didn't Show You Something

While Carly and I were looking for this:



We found this: