Please sir, may I have some more?

I learned today that I need to start packing larger lunches.  Here's my lunch menu:

          Lunchables (turkey, cheddar cheese and crackers)

          Strawberry cereal bar

          Leftover meatloaf from the night before

          Apple cereal bar

          Applesauce

           Peaches

After eating all this, I look around my desk realizing that I'm still hungry and I'm out of options.  So I walk over to the RSC (student union at Wichita State University, where I work) and look to see if anything else sounds good to eat.  I ended up bringing a 20 ounce cup of ice cream and a fairly large (as in bigger than my hand) cherry turn over.  

I think that should last me until dinner.

Week 6

So this has been my first full week of knowing that I'm pregnant. Yay! Here's a few things that I've discovered this past week:

• Knock on wood, I've only had occasional periods of morning sickness.
• With pregnancy comes a new bedtime: 10 PM. This is a drastic change from my midnight and beyond bedtimes. I'm just too tired to stay up later.
  
• Bloating sucks. Eat too much salty food - you look/feel fat.
• Stretching cramps. I'm finding new muscles and ligaments everyday.

I'm on LAPD Wife's Website!!!

As I was surfing around on the internet I went to the LAPDwife.com website to see if there were any new posts. My blog (The Happy Couple) is listed under the Police Wives webpages! How cool is that?

I'm pregnant!

Holy cow! I still can't believe it's true but here's my proof. I'm going to be a mommy. (And as I type this I look over and see Fez licking his privates.)

Hey, that's not a Sudoku book!

I went to Borders tonight to get a few travel books for our New Mexico trip next month. I decided to treat myself to a cheap sudoku book. While I was looking through the books I couldn't believe what someone had put on the game shelf. See the tan colored book in the picture? Can you read the title? "The Deviant's Pocket Guide to the Outlandish Sexual Desires Barely Contained in Your Subconsciousness." Oh my goodness.

Fez had a rough night

Poor Fez.  He didn't have a good Monday night.  I was watching TV last night in the office when I heard the oh so wonderful sound of vomit coming from the bedroom.  The little guy was right in the middle of tossing his cookies not only on the bedspread, but also on my KU fleece throw blanket.  I'm thinking "good aim" and "great that's another 2 loads of laundry that I hadn't planned on doing tonight."  

I walk into the room and he jumps off the bed and yaks some more.  "Sorry buddy.  You're going in the bathroom so I can clean and you can puke on the nice linoleum."  I can't believe his stomach could hold so much.  We're talking a good 1/2 to 3/4 cup of kitty cookies strewn across my bed with a few more tablespoons on the floor.  Gag.  So I clean up the mess and check on my little man in the bathroom.  He looks up at me with such a pitiful look.  I sat down on the toilet and picked him to see if he's ok.  As soon as I start petting him he starts purring.

Fast forward a few hours.  I usually watch TV downstairs on our blue sectional couch while I do laundry.  It's easier to hear the buzzer.  I finish laundry and haul everything upstairs.  After everything is hung up and put away I whistle for Fez to come to bed but he doesn't come in the bedroom.  I don't think anything of it (although he usually spends 6 nights out of the week sleeping with me or Ryan).

The next morning (Tuesday) I got up and whistled for the kitties.  Amy shows up in the hallway.  Crap.  That's never a good sign.  When Amy shows up first that means that Fez got stuck somewhere.

I open the bedroom closet door.  No Fez.

I open the office closet (the uniform closet).  No Fez.

Hall closet?  No Fez.

I try shaking a bag of treats in the kitchen just in case he was downstairs.  No Fez.

That only leaves one place.

I walk downstairs and flip on the light.  "Fez?"  I hear a muffled but distinct "Meow!" from under the couch.  I open the recliner and sure enough, there's Fez hanging out under the couch.  He was even a good boy and didn't potty under the couch.

And you thought you hated Mondays.