So I posted some of the pregnancy photos if you want to take a look and watch my belly grow! I'm going to try and take a photo each week. I can actually feel it stretching and growing each day.
Here's the link:
http://picasaweb.google.com/timith/Pregnancy
I've been feeling a million times better and have actually discovered that I can eat creamy foods again (that before made me sick to my stomach). I've made a couple stops at Coldstone (the richest icecream I have ever had), and then yesterday I ate a bowl of Panera Bread's broccoli cheese soup, which used to make me deathly ill. It tasted amazing and had no bad reactions to the cream - Hurray! Maybe this pregnancy stuff isn't so bad ;)
I can also eat almost anything someone else cooks for me, although I am still having trouble cooking my own food. And, I am starting to be able to eat healthy again (after weeks of mac&cheese). I ordered a veggie sandwhich at 49 West on Friday and ate the whole thing! Of couse I also ordered a slice of lemon cake... because as soon as I saw it I HAD to have it.
I've had one new major craving. It all started at Costco when they were giving out free samples of Golden Grahams. Since then I have been eating them non-stop... if I'm not eating them, I'm thinking about the next time I will be able to eat them. I have also re-discovered how much I like gingerbread cookies and ginger tea...mmmm....
Oh, something else exciting... a stranger asked if I was pregnant and I could say "Yes" this time! It wasn't awkward or embarrassing, it was actually really nice and she offered me her seat on the metro - wow, can't wait till I'm really showing!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
Baby Smith
Meet our latest edition, he/she is 8 weeks and 3 days old today. The best part was seeing the heart beat (which this photo doesn't show), but next time we are in the Dr office for an ultra-sound, I want to try and video part of it to show everyone. It is truely amazing - this tiny 1.58 cm baby has a strong beating heart!
I just bought the paint for the baby's room and Tim is going to start painting in the next few weeks... so I will post pictures soon. I plan on doing a mural too! We bought blue for the ceiling and yellow for the walls. I figured it could go either boy or girl. I had a pretty strong feeling at first that we were having a boy... but now I'm not so sure. Neither of us wants to find out till the birth ;-)
Oh, I discovered a few things while pregnant too... first, bagels with cream cheese for the most part cures nausea (well, it usually works for me), and second icecream cures headaches! Since my discoveries I can pretty much handle both situations... although 6 or 7 bowls of icecream and several bagels a day isn't exactly the best diet ;-)
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Ford > Mercedes
Anyone who knows me pretty well knows that I REALLY like cars. Really like them. I also consider myself to be fairly knoledgeable about cars. Oftentimes I can diagnose a problem with a car by listening to it, and know almost every make and model of car in the United States from the year 1990 on. (Yes I know a lot of cars from before that time, but I *really* know all the cars after) Yeah, I know a lot about cars.
Or, so I thought.
Yesterday I got to the parking garage on the way home before Sarah, and waited for her in the car. I put in the key, and rolled down the windows in our little Tiberon. I fell asleep, and because Sarah got hung up at work, was asleep at least a half hour before she got there. When she showed up, I pulled the lever and sat up, and pushed the clutch in as I turned the key.
Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!
Uh-oh. The engine was catching and starting over. The battery was run-down. I looked down and saw why: when I fell asleep the radio was on with a cd playing, but at to low a volume for me to hear. The battery in the Tibby is over 5 years old, so that's not really a big shock.
Sarah waved down a friendly lady and asked her to give us a jump, we even had the jumper cables. She obliged, and pulled her roughly 2000-model year Mercedes S class next to us. I had our hood open, nad the jumper cables in my hands, ready to get going.
There was a problem. She had never opened her hood before, and didn't know how to. Ha! Oh how funny, right? I mean, who can't open a hood! I walked over, happy to quickly pull the lever and pop the hood.
Where's the lever? I know where they're SUPPOSED to be, where they are in every freaking car, but it is not there, above where one's left foot would be. Mind you, this is someone else's car, and I don't want to go poking around too much, but it didn't take long to see. That freaking lever was not there. There's an array of buttons in the cabin akin to the cocpit of a miliray jet. I even see a red 'bat phone' by the glove compartment 'just in case.'
I stand there and look at the buttons, their in their german engineered perfect placement, and wonder like a child what would happen if I started pushing a bunch of them REALLY fast. Either way, there are no buttons that depict a hood of the car. There is a button that one would push in the case of being towed, but nothing for the hood.
I walk around to the front of the car. This is ridiculous. There wouldn't be a button up front.....would there? After a minute's search, no, the germans aren't that stupid.
Out the owner's manual comes. At this point, I'm embarrassed. I could have changed her sparkplugs in the time we've been doing this....if I could get the dang-ed hood open, that is.
No where in the introduction is there a mention of a 'hood release.' I think quickly that the English call the hood a bonnet or something, but that isn't there, either. I look at the start of each section, at the bullet points. No luck.
There's a 260 page book on how to operate the navigation unit in the car. Out that comes. No luck. I'm laughing nervously, Sarah is laughing at me, and the woman is just confounded by all of this. I look through the buttons again, down by the pedals again. NOTHING.
Out comes the manual again. Finally, I locate it! It is bearily noted, on one page, item number 3 that the hood release is, in fact by where one's left foot is, except that it is against the side of the car. Also, it is unmarked, black, and slimmer than Kate Moss after gastric bypass surgury.
I pull the lever, and pop! The hood opens slightly, and reveals a tab to pull to open it the rest of the way! Hooray! We can get going! We can....we.....where.....where's the battery?
Oh no. I can't find the battery. There's a black plastic box up front, but that has a lock on it, and after checking the manual, is the fuse box for the car. Where's the battery?
I am, at this point, totally humiliated. I DO know a lot about cars. I'm great with them. But I couldn't open the hood to this car, and now I can't find the battery. I'm done.
Fortunately right at this time another nice lady wanders over to us, noticing the two open hoods. She drives a Ford Escape, and offers to save what little pride I have left, I mean....offers to give us a jump. The Mercedes lady leaves, a blurr of German engineering and disarming complexity, and up drives the Escape.
Big lever marked "Hood" with a picture. Pull that. Battery right up front where it should be. I hook up the cables, making sure to put the negative on our car to a the chassis, and in a minute our car starts up.
Ford > Mercedes.
Or, so I thought.
Yesterday I got to the parking garage on the way home before Sarah, and waited for her in the car. I put in the key, and rolled down the windows in our little Tiberon. I fell asleep, and because Sarah got hung up at work, was asleep at least a half hour before she got there. When she showed up, I pulled the lever and sat up, and pushed the clutch in as I turned the key.
Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!
Uh-oh. The engine was catching and starting over. The battery was run-down. I looked down and saw why: when I fell asleep the radio was on with a cd playing, but at to low a volume for me to hear. The battery in the Tibby is over 5 years old, so that's not really a big shock.
Sarah waved down a friendly lady and asked her to give us a jump, we even had the jumper cables. She obliged, and pulled her roughly 2000-model year Mercedes S class next to us. I had our hood open, nad the jumper cables in my hands, ready to get going.
There was a problem. She had never opened her hood before, and didn't know how to. Ha! Oh how funny, right? I mean, who can't open a hood! I walked over, happy to quickly pull the lever and pop the hood.
Where's the lever? I know where they're SUPPOSED to be, where they are in every freaking car, but it is not there, above where one's left foot would be. Mind you, this is someone else's car, and I don't want to go poking around too much, but it didn't take long to see. That freaking lever was not there. There's an array of buttons in the cabin akin to the cocpit of a miliray jet. I even see a red 'bat phone' by the glove compartment 'just in case.'
I stand there and look at the buttons, their in their german engineered perfect placement, and wonder like a child what would happen if I started pushing a bunch of them REALLY fast. Either way, there are no buttons that depict a hood of the car. There is a button that one would push in the case of being towed, but nothing for the hood.
I walk around to the front of the car. This is ridiculous. There wouldn't be a button up front.....would there? After a minute's search, no, the germans aren't that stupid.
Out the owner's manual comes. At this point, I'm embarrassed. I could have changed her sparkplugs in the time we've been doing this....if I could get the dang-ed hood open, that is.
No where in the introduction is there a mention of a 'hood release.' I think quickly that the English call the hood a bonnet or something, but that isn't there, either. I look at the start of each section, at the bullet points. No luck.
There's a 260 page book on how to operate the navigation unit in the car. Out that comes. No luck. I'm laughing nervously, Sarah is laughing at me, and the woman is just confounded by all of this. I look through the buttons again, down by the pedals again. NOTHING.
Out comes the manual again. Finally, I locate it! It is bearily noted, on one page, item number 3 that the hood release is, in fact by where one's left foot is, except that it is against the side of the car. Also, it is unmarked, black, and slimmer than Kate Moss after gastric bypass surgury.
I pull the lever, and pop! The hood opens slightly, and reveals a tab to pull to open it the rest of the way! Hooray! We can get going! We can....we.....where.....where's the battery?
Oh no. I can't find the battery. There's a black plastic box up front, but that has a lock on it, and after checking the manual, is the fuse box for the car. Where's the battery?
I am, at this point, totally humiliated. I DO know a lot about cars. I'm great with them. But I couldn't open the hood to this car, and now I can't find the battery. I'm done.
Fortunately right at this time another nice lady wanders over to us, noticing the two open hoods. She drives a Ford Escape, and offers to save what little pride I have left, I mean....offers to give us a jump. The Mercedes lady leaves, a blurr of German engineering and disarming complexity, and up drives the Escape.
Big lever marked "Hood" with a picture. Pull that. Battery right up front where it should be. I hook up the cables, making sure to put the negative on our car to a the chassis, and in a minute our car starts up.
Ford > Mercedes.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Another day in the life of Tim-may!
Things for me are almost never 'normal.' I'd strived for 'normal' for years when I was younger, but quickly realized there was just no helping fate, as there's no way of hiding this wind sail I call a nose without a mountain range, or space shuttle to hide behind.
This morning I was waiting for my work database to update a word file I was working on, which, with my computer is like trying to have Rush Limbaugh try to communicate with a Frenchman with a hearing disability. Eventually the Frenchman understands that he should either be insulted by Rush, or pity him, and gives up (as the French do).
Anyhoo, during the exchange between programs on my computer, I checked my bank account.
I'm rich.
I'd like to thank the little people, the lolly-pop guild mostly - as their silly dance repeats in my head while I do my daily sales routine.
It does occur to me that I'm in fact, too rich. Not like Bill gates rich, more like "I just won Wheels of Fortune!" rich. Still, I know how much I make, and something isn't right. I go to my manager about it.
She send me my commission report. Nice, neat numbers all tallied up for me to see how awesome I am. Only, I know how awesome I am, and sadly, I'm not THAT awesome. Basically my company pays me a draw which I receive twice a month. then, at the end of every quarter everything is added up and the next pay will include a 'commission' check for the amount I've sold over my budget.
They had my sales for the year entered, 1st quarter, and 2nd quarter. Then, they added the 2nd quarter again.
Something you should know, is that sales people have 'carrots on a stick.' If you go over budget, you get a bonus. Go further over budget? Get that bonus plus a percentage of the overage. Go way over budget? Get that bonus plus a much larger percentage of the amount over.
You can see how this added up pretty quickly.
I'll be writing my employer a check soon for the overage. Now, if only I could have had this happen right before interest would apply to this account. :)
As an added note, as I was going to bed last night, I noticed something for the first time.
I like our stupid dog.
This morning I was waiting for my work database to update a word file I was working on, which, with my computer is like trying to have Rush Limbaugh try to communicate with a Frenchman with a hearing disability. Eventually the Frenchman understands that he should either be insulted by Rush, or pity him, and gives up (as the French do).
Anyhoo, during the exchange between programs on my computer, I checked my bank account.
I'm rich.
I'd like to thank the little people, the lolly-pop guild mostly - as their silly dance repeats in my head while I do my daily sales routine.
It does occur to me that I'm in fact, too rich. Not like Bill gates rich, more like "I just won Wheels of Fortune!" rich. Still, I know how much I make, and something isn't right. I go to my manager about it.
She send me my commission report. Nice, neat numbers all tallied up for me to see how awesome I am. Only, I know how awesome I am, and sadly, I'm not THAT awesome. Basically my company pays me a draw which I receive twice a month. then, at the end of every quarter everything is added up and the next pay will include a 'commission' check for the amount I've sold over my budget.
They had my sales for the year entered, 1st quarter, and 2nd quarter. Then, they added the 2nd quarter again.
Something you should know, is that sales people have 'carrots on a stick.' If you go over budget, you get a bonus. Go further over budget? Get that bonus plus a percentage of the overage. Go way over budget? Get that bonus plus a much larger percentage of the amount over.
You can see how this added up pretty quickly.
I'll be writing my employer a check soon for the overage. Now, if only I could have had this happen right before interest would apply to this account. :)
As an added note, as I was going to bed last night, I noticed something for the first time.
I like our stupid dog.
Monday, July 30, 2007
More photos coming soon...
Last weekend Luc was Christened (in pic to the left: Sonepheth, Meggan, Luc, Sarah, Tim)! I am so proud to be his Godmother! What an amazing kid! I love spending time with him already and he's not even 1 yet ;) One of his new favorite things to do with me is to play with my hair. He likes to take my hair and hide my face with it, then brush it out of the way and giggle (kind of like peek-a-boo). Luc, I can't wait to watch you grow up into the person you are going to be! Your Godparents love you little one! Unfortunately, I don't have more pictures to post. Somehow I have managed to lose the cord that connects the camera to the computer :( I have tons of "before/ after" photos of all the work we have been doing on the house and also a very amusing one of me relaxing in our new hammock. There are still a million more boxes to search through, so hopefully I will find it soon.
Update.... so the animals have been getting along great! I absolutely love our new dog! Every day I take her walking someplace different. We like to browse the neighborhood and walk down by the water. She has gotten a lot more comfortable with the neighborhood and has been behaving much better on our walks. She has even made friends with the neighbor's dogs. Tim and I also found a cheap solution for the "litter box" poop eating problem. Puka has been scavenging the litter box constantly since we got her for cat poop (I know it's gross). So we went to Petsmart this weekend to buy a self cleaning litter box and were shocked at how much those things cost! So... Tim came up with a brilliant plan. We used a baby gate to block off the bathroom door where the litter box is stored - TaDa! The cats can jump over it with no problem and Puka is stuck outside the door. It works perfect :)
More pictures soon... I promise!
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Family Photo
So this is our family... well, minus the plants (I think we will try and include them next time). This picture actually cracked me up because it is so honest! Unfortunately, getting the 5 of us so close together is quite a challenge and we are lucky to have captured it (Thank you Meggan!). Tim and I are sitting in our newly painted living room behind our favorite color and one of the few paint colors we can agree one - Red! We both look happy but a little tired... usually the case these days. Foxy is in the center - he actually chose the spot and because he was in one of his moods, we decided to just pose around him. hehehe... notice all the space around him, none of us wanted to piss him off. Tim is holding Punkin who is terrified of the dog (the look in her eye says it all). Puka, to the right, is terrified of Foxy and only felt comfortable with me sitting between them playing referee. Ahhh... our matching animals - not on purpose, but now it's kind of a theme to the house. Every day the getting-along gets better :) I want to eventually get a photo of all of us on the front porch! Maybe I can recruit Meggan again ;)
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Tim's first post
Hello everyone, Sarah started our blog, and I'm adding a bit to it today. I'm really not sure what to make of a blog yet. Currently I write very short stories rejoicing in the awful everyday. Silly things that people and animals do, and of course the idiotic things I do. Life never ceases to amaze. A week ago I would have told you that a wave a foot and a half tall on the bay wouldn't excite me. However, after a recent trip out onto the bay during a very choppy afternoon I was getting bounced about by a bunch of waves of waves. Up one, then Slap! back down and up again.
Then, the Godzilla of bay chop. The Empire State water bump. The Hinden-wave, a wave like Texas would do it, the Oprah of waves. I'm not saying Oprah is fat, she's huge....that doesn't sound any better. From the waterline up this wave was a foot and a half tall (I've been told that means it was probably a 'three foot wave') coming right for me. I knew it was a little wave. It wasn't big. But it was big enough that it was over the bow of my kayak.
Paddling hard, I did the only thing one really can in such a dire, serious situation. I raised my paddle over my head with both arms and yelled "WOOOOO" as I went over the wave, and slapped down on the water behind it. The next wave washed right up the boat, aiding my butt's best impression of a raisin from sitting in water so long.
It took me 45 minutes to paddle out against the wind and waves, and 8 minutes to get back in with them.
A foot and a half. WOOOO!
Anyhoo, does anyone think that 'sparking' light sockets are bad? 'Cause some of ours do.
Then, the Godzilla of bay chop. The Empire State water bump. The Hinden-wave, a wave like Texas would do it, the Oprah of waves. I'm not saying Oprah is fat, she's huge....that doesn't sound any better. From the waterline up this wave was a foot and a half tall (I've been told that means it was probably a 'three foot wave') coming right for me. I knew it was a little wave. It wasn't big. But it was big enough that it was over the bow of my kayak.
Paddling hard, I did the only thing one really can in such a dire, serious situation. I raised my paddle over my head with both arms and yelled "WOOOOO" as I went over the wave, and slapped down on the water behind it. The next wave washed right up the boat, aiding my butt's best impression of a raisin from sitting in water so long.
It took me 45 minutes to paddle out against the wind and waves, and 8 minutes to get back in with them.
A foot and a half. WOOOO!
Anyhoo, does anyone think that 'sparking' light sockets are bad? 'Cause some of ours do.
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