Mama's back.

I didn't abandon you, dear readers. I took a vacation. If you can call it that. I wasn't at work and didn't turn on a computer.

Picture, south of here, May 2011.

It's supposed to be sunny. And beautiful.

But it was wet.

And dreary.

When we decided to go south of here for vacation we each picked one thing we wanted to do. The kid picked beach. The husband picked naval air museum (which the kid thought was disgusting until I clarified that he said "naVal" not "naSal"). I picked room service.

I was the only one who got my one thing. And it was mediocre at best and expensive at worst.

Despite the nasty weather and crabby attitudes (that were only placated with room service or gift shops) we had some good moments. There were the gift shops. The seahorse porn. An epic marshmallow battle.

Here are some pictures for you to enjoy.

Isn't it lovely?

Just like on LOST.

I FOUND THE ISLAND. (This museum seems to have a LOST theme...)

I watched two seahorse do it. And then the male got a big belly and shot a million babies out of it.

Fascinating.

As close to the beach as we got...and it was like 20 degrees out but she insisted on putting her feet in anyway *trust me, she's in there somewhere*. We decided to get Starbucks after that....that is...if we could find it.

Way to be an asshole, Google.

Oddly beautiful.

Genuinely gorgeous. I wanted it but they weren't selling it in the gift shop. Bummer.

That brings up to date through last Thursday.

For the most part.

Until next time,

Smooches.

(Originally posted on my other blog, but now, brought here, to you, by magical elves. You're welcome.)

An update on the baby maker.

Of all the problems I thought I would have in my life infertility was not one of them.

Yes, I do sit around thinking of all potential problems I could have because my hyper vigilance (just like Tina Fey's) is really the only thing that helps prevents them from happening. If I think it then it won't happen. It's kind of the opposite of the whole "build it and they will come". It's more like "build it and they won't come and there will be more popcorn and cracker jacks for you. Bonus."


For example, I have thought of multiple scenarios in where I could possibly be eaten by a bear. I thought about what the bear would look like, how fast it could reasonably run, how fast I can reasonably run, what items could be used as weapons (ie, bobby pin and a half-eaten banana), etc. So, when I actually came into contact with a bear I was prepared and was not eaten. (The bear was running in the opposite direction up a hill about 50 feet away from me but it still counts.)


Using my system I have avoided cancer, plane crashes, hijackings, mall shootings, and anthrax.

My system. It works.

I never spent any time thinking about not being able to get pregnant because I did get pregnant. It wasn't planned. I was even on birth control. Also, vodka. But that was over 10 years and a thousand pounds ago.

I love that kid to the moon and back infinity + 2.

So if I had just thought I couldn't get pregnant ever again then it would have happened and I would not need to pee on a stick every single day of my life and be an emotional wreck and deal with stabbing pains in my uterus.

Alas, it is not so.

But that is okay.

It's my burden to bear so I will bear it.

(Think: hand to the forehead, rather dramatically)


I went to the doctor yesterday because the stabbing pains in my uterus area were getting worse. He thought it was the clomid doing it's job but wanted to check to be sure. I'm a little confused as to what was actually going on but the ultrasound tech said that my eggs are small and to just keep testing with the ovulation predictor kits. And do it. A lot.

So that is what we've been doing.

It.

A lot.

How are you?


Smooches.


(Originally posted on my other blog, but now, brought here, to you, by magical elves. You're welcome.)

Legally His.

Firstly, I am so very sorry for being absent from your lives for over a week. We had a lot of things going on (many of which I will entertain you with over the next few days). Also, I felt an overwhelming need to (mostly) unplug (of course this urge would come during a week full of blog-worthy happenings) and I didn't fight it. Instead I spent (most) of my time online on Netflix. I'm currently watching season 4 of 30 Rock (which I should have started after I read Tina Fey's book, Bossypants, which is NO JOKE laugh out loud (as in LOL) funny and insightful).


Phew.


Now. Secondly.



Picture it, Family Court, 2011.


Me, my husband, the kid, my mom and dad and brother, and his mom.


We arrived early and walked into the courthouse.


We would have to go through security. No big deal. Compared to the full body cavity search at the airport this would be a day at the proverbial beach. Also, there was no line. Bonus!


And then I had a panic attack.


Oh shitshitshit. I didn't check her bag. Why didn't I check her bag? Ohmygod. Ok, ok...maybe it will be okay.
It wasn't okay.


A little backstory, methinks?


Ever since the kid could hold things in her hands she has always had to bring the strangest things with her whenever we would leave the house. It is kind of like security blanket to her so I try not to protest too much when she channels her inner Navin R. Johnson and tells me that all she needs is a deck of cards, two broken crayons, and a ticket stub from a movie we saw in 2004.


On this glorious day she decided that what she needed most in this world was a ribbon streamer, a handful of necklaces and a mini flat iron. Of course she chose things that could easily become entangled because obviously they go together.


Pro tip: leave the mini flat iron at home. It is considered a weapon by Family Court. And it had to go back to the car. But first it had to be untangled from the ribbon streamer and necklaces. Sic hours later, he was done and the line reached the street. Do we know how to make friends or what?


In the midst of the untangling my dad decided he needed to walk through the metal detector with his arms crossed across his chest like he was being laid to rest and it only took the screener twice telling him to "walk through like a normal person" before he got through.


When my mom asked if we should wait for my husband to return from depositing the Weapon of Mass Destruction in our vehicle I may have let a "hell no" escape as I desperately pushed the up button on the elevator. I decided the only person I wanted judging my family for the rest of the day would be the judge we had waited to see for almost two years.


And slightly 90 minutes later he did just that. 


The kid officially, legally became my husband's daughter.  


It was the most joyous, wonderful day in my life. 


In that moment, when my husband confirmed that he understood what he was signing up for, I realized that if I had searched the entire earth for the rest of my life I could never find a better man to be the father of my child. 


All together now...


Awww.


(Originally posted on my other blog, but now, brought here, to you, by magical elves. You're welcome.)