Monday, November 28, 2011

Just Put a Bird on It: Christmas Edition

Finally, the time has come:  MERRY CHRISTMAS!  Starbucks holiday cups are out, Target has Christmas decor, the holiday flags are flapping wildly on Main Street light poles.....which is how it has been since November 1, but that's neither here nor there.

I waited patiently to put up my Christmas tree, which I did, with gusto, yesterday evening.  My husband, who normally loathes the putting up of the tree, pitched in with holiday cheer.  It was either because we were delirious with the holiday spirit (not wine) or possibly because of the six hour trek home earlier that day.  OR most likely because of the bird incident.

Attic Man was falling down on the job yesterday.  Evidently, he has better things to do that keep birds from flying into the attic while the door is open to allow passage of Christmas decor from the dusty depths beneath the roof into the living room.  Also, he was still doing these better things when husband was trying to "flush out" said bird by running around Mr. Attic Man's lair in a crouched position swinging a broom and yelling.  I became involved by forming a screen with flattened boxes to force said bird down the opening after Matt "flushed" the bird from one side of the attic toward the door i.e. I was screaming and hitting the bird repeatedly as it tried in vain to fly around me into the corner to hide.  Please keep in mind that the attic does not have head space, or torso space.  Also, that I'm 7 months pregnant. (don't worry mom, I wasn't near any place I could bust through the ceiling.....)

Merry Christmas, bird.  We are about to get a bird trap for the attic.  Attic Man?  I expect you to resume my post and flush the bird into said trap.  Or you will be evicted.  You have one day.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Reflections of a Pregnant Woman

At no other point in my life would I be happy that someone told me I look huge.  Thanks, pregnancy.  You put things in prospective.  You are also cruel and prevent me from painting my toenails.  My eyebrows?  No, I can reach those.  You have nothing to do with those, Pregnancy.  You are, however, causing me to need a lot of Snickers.  (Fun size or just a regular bar, because those are the correct ratio, if you recall.  Snickers minis, I scoff in your face.  Unless you are the only option.  No.  Shame.)

At no other point in my life would I be smiling to myself while walking into work.  Nor would I cry merely at the sight of the color pink. (Unless it was the foul color of neon pink the guest room was painted when we moved in...).

At no other point in my life would I be so excited to meet this little girl!!

Cheers!  'til next time...