<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573</id><updated>2011-07-29T02:04:13.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kiss My Grits</title><subtitle type='html'>Just a place where I can rant if I need to. Praise if I can. List my hopes and dreams if I have any. Be silly if I decide to. And if you don't like it...YOU CAN "KISS MY GRITS"!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8855660462033562421</id><published>2009-09-21T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T13:39:52.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's my NOOFUS!</title><content type='html'>I'm not feeling much like smiling. Had a great weekend, away for a night with the hub...baby with Nana. So I should feel like smiling, but...It was raining when I woke up this morning. Now it's pretty, but I've been inside all day. Inside, stuck inside working. Two friends had fun birthday weekends, but I couldn't celebrate with either of them. Stuck in FL, here in FL for 10 more months. Missed my workout class twice last week. It was making me feel so good, that has made me feel guilty, yucky guilt and fat rolls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, Josh has gone to pick up Noofus (the nick' of the nickname "Goofus Noofus", it sooo fits him)...and that makes me smile. I'm smiling just waiting to see his smile, his big big Noofy smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll smile all night. Yep, made my mind up, just gonna do it. He deserves it (plus he 'causes it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY! They're here! Mommy's coming to squeeze you!&lt;br /&gt;(Thank goodness for him.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8855660462033562421?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8855660462033562421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8855660462033562421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8855660462033562421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8855660462033562421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-my-noofus.html' title='It&apos;s my NOOFUS!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-7857986558369402597</id><published>2009-09-11T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T10:30:26.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cellophane, Mrs. Cellophane</title><content type='html'>“…Should have been my name, Mrs. Cellophane. ‘Cause you can look right through me, walk right by me and never know I’m there…” Did you catch it? That was a &lt;em&gt;Chicago&lt;/em&gt; reference (and I might be off a little on the exact wording of the lyrics, I know, get surprised because I pride myself in knowing the RIGHT lyrics).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, lately this is how I feel. For a while I’ve felt “uninteresting” at best. I mean, I don’t have good work stories…heck, most people don’t even understand what I do. But at least when I was “at home” I had friends who I could hang with and feel like me and be me…even if “me” isn’t as fun as I used to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s just seemed worse since we’ve been in Florida. I’ve become even more invisible. I mean, I still communicate with people at work. They don’t seem to have forgotten about me. But my LIFE is not work. I do NOT want my LIFE to be work. So it’s hard, being here, alone, to have a “life” that’s mine. Every time I hear from my parents it’s “How’s my grandson” or “How’s school going for Josh”. It’s like I don’t exist. I’m sure no one even knows what to ask about me…and that’s fine…except, I’m still here. Living, breathing, working hard, taking care of my family, cooking every night, making lists of “to-do’s”, making sure of this and that, doing the budget, planning, thinking, dreaming…still here, didn’t vanish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don’t want to make this a long pity party or anything or toot my own horn-BUT COME ON! Does no one (except Josh, he says he realizes) realize this is the HARDEST ON ME?! All the grandparents are sad about is that they can’t see their grandson whenever they want (thank God, I actually am enjoying having my family to myself). All my friends miss me…but they have other friends and coworkers they see. I’M HERE ALL BY MYSELF. Josh at least has one friend he came here with and he’s in school and meeting people everyday. I carried and birthed the baby…I moved away from my friends and family to sit at home and work by myself (which I’m grateful for, don’t get me wrong)…but NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE ABOUT ME. Now, I’m using a lot of “no one” and “everyone” and all that…my friends to tell me that they miss me and I know they understand it must be hard. But you can’t know it until you’re doing it what you really will end up feeling like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could say more…and I would…but well, I’m in a better place today and don’t really feel like dredging it back up. All this to say…mommy’s are pretty awesome people. You shouldn’t forget us just because are kids or husbands seem more interesting…makes me feel uninteresting, unintelligent and dull. I used to be fun. At least I thought I was. (That being said, there’s nothing more fun than talking about my baby. I sound mixed up don’t I? Ah well, one of these days, maybe I’ll be interesting in and of myself again.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-7857986558369402597?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/7857986558369402597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=7857986558369402597' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7857986558369402597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7857986558369402597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/09/cellophane-mrs-cellophane.html' title='Cellophane, Mrs. Cellophane'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8122810155706043859</id><published>2009-09-02T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T06:32:05.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Duped!</title><content type='html'>In attempt to make some friends (I use that loosely as I already have real, true, actual and the best friends ever) here in sunny FL I have been talking more with the mommies I see at daycare, keeping an eye peeled for peeps with wee ones in our complex, and I even joined a local mommy group online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got so excited the other day when I was out letting Charly pee. Josh was out of town so I had the door open so I could see Connor playing on the floor inside. When I spied this female; I couldn’t tell if she was young or older or old…so I hesitate using “lady” or “woman” or “girl”. And since we’re on the subject, why is there no name for people my age. To me a “lady” is grandma’s age, a “woman” is my mom’s age and a “girl” can be anything that’s college age or younger…WHAT ABOUT ME? MissIminmy30’s. Do you have any good names for my generation? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, off topic much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the point. I spied this person pushing a stroller down the sidewalk. The inner monologue went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh cool, another mommy! I wonder how old her baby is. Oh I hope she doesn’t turn the corner before she gets down here. I hope Charly doesn’t bark at her. What will I say? “Hi, how old is your baby? Mine is almost 9 months, he’s right inside, see him? Oh how cute he/she is…what’s his/her name? I’m Brianne, we just moved here from NC. Are you from FL?” Crap, she’s turning the corner. ::BARK BARK:: That wasn’t Charly barking…dang, that stroller has a dog in it. I don’t think we’ll be friends…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8122810155706043859?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8122810155706043859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8122810155706043859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8122810155706043859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8122810155706043859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/09/duped.html' title='Duped!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8072342676925060712</id><published>2009-08-28T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T06:12:41.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Connie</title><content type='html'>Apparently my son has a new name. His daily progress reports come home with “Connor” written on top, but then once you scan down to the bottom, in the “comments” section it says something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Connie had a great day today! We sang songs and he enjoyed painting an apple for our class apple tree. Connie needs more diapers”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very interesting, I’m so glad to hear Connie is doing so well. Perhaps Connie’s mom will purchase diapers for us. I hope she got the message.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8072342676925060712?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8072342676925060712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8072342676925060712' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8072342676925060712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8072342676925060712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/08/connie.html' title='Connie'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-69424305245647366</id><published>2009-08-27T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T12:48:25.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WDMBG?</title><content type='html'>(Where did my Breezy go?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Florida…I went to Florida. That’s not my excuse for not blogging for, oh 6 months now. I have been following some blogs, but to be honest have found it hard to care about blogging when there’s this cute little fellow attached to my leg (yes, the other day he actually ATTACHED himself to my leg with tears in his eyes because “Oh no mommy, you cannot leave the living room. Whatever will I do with you 10 feet away in the bathroom. Wear a diaper woman so thou shalt not have to pee…EVER! I WANT YOU TO STAY RIGHT HERE WITH MEEEEEEE!”-PS, my son most definitely will be taught to say “thou shalt not” because I think it would be hilarious!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where was I? Oh, yes, Florida. We’re here…there…eh…whatev’, you get it. I could pretend that my life has been ohsovery interesting and play “catch-up” with you. But, I’m not. I’ll give you this:&lt;br /&gt;-I’ve been working-a lot&lt;br /&gt;-Connor’s been growing-a lot&lt;br /&gt;-Josh has been studying-a lot&lt;br /&gt;-we went to the beach-was awesome!&lt;br /&gt;-Josh took the BAR-it’s awesome that he’s done (waiting on results!)&lt;br /&gt;-we packed up our entire lives and moved to FL-feels awesome have that over with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, you’re caught up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, Josh has started back to school (has gotten sick and we hope it’s not the Swine Flu-so far no “oinking” sounds, so we’re probably good). Connor is in daycare (has had 2 accidents which warranted phone calls home-so far no calls today due to bumps or scrapes, so hopefully he’s good). I have started working from home! My office is set up in the 3rd bedroom (have been working away-so far I have not organized the “office”, so that’s not good). Trying to get into a routine and hopefully see some Florida sights on the weekends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh please let me be tan and 30lbs lighter by the time we move back to NC. (Project, “30lb Shed” is underway-enrolled in an 8 week “Ultimate Get Fit Challenge” at the local gym. Updates will follow, since I start on Monday.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time…(kiss my grits)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-69424305245647366?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/69424305245647366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=69424305245647366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/69424305245647366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/69424305245647366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/08/wdmbg.html' title='WDMBG?'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-2132006499615963036</id><published>2009-02-16T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T08:07:53.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like takin' candy from a baaaby!</title><content type='html'>Seriously? Who coined that phrase? They must not have had children. The phrase is meant to mean that something is easy. HOWEVER, have you ever taken candy from a child (not a baby, babies shouldn't have candy) or (gasp) told them they couldn't have that candy right then? I've seen it in action...not with my own mind you. But I can imagine what Connor will be like. Geez, you take the bottle out of his mouth to, heaven forbid, burp him (dude, you hate the gas pains and hunger pains that come when you spit up!) and 9 times out of 10 he SCREAMS.&lt;br /&gt;So, just a random Monday thought...but I think we should rethink this phrase.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-2132006499615963036?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/2132006499615963036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=2132006499615963036' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2132006499615963036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2132006499615963036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/02/like-takin-candy-from-baaaby.html' title='Like takin&apos; candy from a baaaby!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6936737037285790385</id><published>2009-02-05T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T16:35:32.988-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parental Units</title><content type='html'>So I could say that the reason I haven't posted in almost a month is because I'm totally wrapped up in my little man, reading the "Twilight" series, sleeping, cleaning, watching TV...and it would all be true. But, mostly I think it's because I can't bring myself to type what's been on my mind and I haven't had anything else on my mind to type.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't talked much about my family here. Mostly what I discuss is about me personally. I usually try to be lighthearted and even if the subject matter is serious or scary, I'll at least make an attempt at funny.&lt;br /&gt;I've never been one to keep my feelings inside. I wear my life on my sleeve and if it comes up I'm not ashamed or embarrassed to talk about it. That being said, I also don't look for people to say "oh I'm sorry, that sucks" and I also realize that there are lots of people out there that can say "seriously, your life isn't bad at all compared to what I've been through". We all have our skeletons in the closet...we probably all need therapy.&lt;br /&gt;So therapy, I'm supposed to be contacting my mom's counselor and going to see her. I was also supposed to do this years ago after the first "episode". I chickened out. Not because I don't think therapy/counseling/a shrink/someone might help. It's that once the "episodes" are over, I don't want to relive them. I want to pretend they never happened. That doesn't mean I forget, no, I don't forget. I just hate the big eared elephant in the room. But I've gotten to where as long as everyone is normal the elephant tends to move into another room.&lt;br /&gt;WTH am I talking about? Well, ok...I'll try to explain myself. Again, I know your life was probably much harder than mine. I did and do have 2 loving parents, took dance and piano lessons, had cool clothes and even a car when I was 16...so poor pitiful me. Doesn't mean life was perfect...doesn't mean anyone's is despite what you might think you see. Saying it, talking about it, has always helped me.&lt;br /&gt;I could type a ton of stories, stories of my parents divorce, being locked in a room when I was 4 to be kept safe from the arguement, the gun, the threats, the fighting even years after the divorce, feeling trapped and unsafe in my own home, the court case, the scariness, my father teasing me about my weight, my mother's husbands...but probably being "scared" sums it all up. My "scared" now turns to anger and I try to be as respectful as possible to my parents. I am now a parent and must try hard not to have my son see what I've seen (in me or my parents).&lt;br /&gt;The first "episode" I was really aware of (I'm not sure if there were any prior to this) was about 7 years ago. I'd gone to my grandma's for Sunday lunch before I had to be back to work that afternoon. My mom was no where to be found when I got there. No one knew where she was. We were worried. It was odd for her not to be there especially since her only child had come into town for lunch and was on a tight schedule to get back to work. When she finally showed up for lunch she was livid. We'd (my aunt and cousins and I) gone looking for her and this apparently was the worst thing we could have done. She was yelling and fighting with her sister and upset with me. When I decided that I wasn't going to take it anymore, after all, I didn't live with her anymore, I was 22 and self sufficient. I got up to leave. That's when I saw the switch flip for the first time. She blocked the door so I couldn't escape. She started crying and acting, for lack of a better word, crazy. She grabbed me and wouldn't let go asking "what has the devil done". Totally freaked out and in tears now myself, with my aunt and grandma begging her to let me go. They tackled her and I ran out of the house and sped away. I can still see them lying on top of her in my grandma's living room. I hid for a day and then once I finally went back to my apartment she drove up every morning for a week and left messages on my car (a 45 drive for her). I finally conceded to talk to her. She drove us to a park (my first mistake because I'd never be able to leave of my own accord, therefore I never said everything I wanted, never let out all the anger, I felt trapped again). After that day, and until this day I could probably count on one hand how many times I've spent time alone with her. I fear that "craziness". Over the next few years I'd get emails or early morning phone calls, sob stories of "what's wrong with our relationship? what has the devil done to us?"&lt;br /&gt;Despite my best efforts she doesn't listen when I actually try to tell her "what's wrong". She never actually lets me talk. She does the guilt trip thing when other people seem to know more about me than she does (though the hub and I swear we've actually told her the very things she claims not to know about us). I finally realized as of late that...she doesn't ask. When she calls, she tells me all about someone else or some other anecdotal story that has minimal relevance. She simply does not ask nor does she listen when I share.&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on...seriously.&lt;br /&gt;The most recent episode occurred at the end of her visit after Connor was born. She was very helpful. Cooked, cleaned, fed the baby during the night, stayed out of our way each night so just the hub the baby and I could have family time...alone. Until Thursday night she was the perfect guest (time for her to leave on Friday). I was ready for her to leave, but mainly because I wanted things back to "normal" or for us to learn our new "normal". Earlier in the week she'd asked for a picture of Connor to take with her when she'd left. She doesn't have a camera (however she did run tons of errands and could have purchased a disposable one). The hub had 3 exams he was studying for all week and me, well, I'd just had a baby 5 days prior. Thursday night I escaped =) I went out on my own to Target to get more baby bottles and even some ice cream for myself. While at Target the lights went out...pitch black people...can't see your hand in front of your face BLACK! I was already suffering from crazy hormones I didn't need this on my first time out! Lights back on whew! Then before my heart could return to its normal rhythm...lights back out! I immediately decided to start moving to the exit when LIGHTS BACK ON. So I got the bottles and went to the closest register, paid and left. Went home. No icecream, nothing...just my baby's bottles. I got home, told my story and the first thing out of her mouth was "where's my picture"? Seriously? I apologized profusely, but it was not my intent to go back out...nor the hubs (LAW SCHOOL EXAM THE NEXT DAY...HELLO?!)&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, almost time for her to leave, I tried to figure out how to print some from the camera. But the hub had his computer at school (LAW EXAM...HELLO?!) and I couldn't find all the cords, printer paper etc (I seriously tried hard). I went to take Connor to his grandma so she could feed him before she left (I figured she'd want to do that and I'd take a shower)...that's when the switch flipped again. I was attacked. Not physically this time...but with words. Purposely hurtful words. "If you'd appreciated what I'd been doing here all week you'd have remembered my picture...All I wanted was a picture to show the people I work with...Can't you understand how hard this is to leave with no picture...Why are you so compassionate to everyone else but me...I knew you'd be like this, just like your father...Apparently you have a closer relationship with (friend's name) mother than with me." It was all I could do to keep myself composed. If not for holding Connor I think I would have lost it (which I did later when the hub finally came home from his exam). How was that fair to do to me...I'd had a baby a week ago. Really? I was to blame? No, it wasn't the picture (that was just the icing on the psycho cupcake) it was that she's alone, in a tiny apartment, I have a beautiful baby, a loving husband, great friends...I have what she's wanted. She's jealous, envious...but not enough to hate me-she loves me too much for that.&lt;br /&gt;I could give you so much more of the story. The many more phone calls, hurtful words, my promise to make an appointment with her counselor, that we changed our locks because I was scared (she doesn't know that part)...but now things are back to "normal". I forced normal much more quickly this time because of Christmas. I needed normal (as much as I can ever have that). I needed the stress to end. I needed to be concentrating on my child, being a mom, on me for crying out loud-because when it's only been days since you've had a baby you get to be selfish and think about yourself!&lt;br /&gt;So, I've put off the therapy...again. I don't want to talk about it with anyone connected to her. Do I want it "fixed"..sure. Do I think it will be "fixed"...no. Would therapy help me deal with it better, accept it more...probably. Am I lazy, stubborn (and poor?) YES.&lt;br /&gt;My mother is not the only one who drives me to therapy. My dad does his share. My dad is also selfish (ie only has negative things to say about the plans the hub and I have for our family regarding his grad school...SOOO not his life!). It's really easy to see when my parents are being selfish because their reasons aren't as logical (or at all) as they make them seem.&lt;br /&gt;But that, is another post entirely.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be them. I don't want Connor to avoid being alone with me. To hate to see my number show up on the caller ID. To think that he's not good enough for me. To think that all I want is something to brag about. To feel guilty because I made him feel that way because I was being selfish. I don't want to go "crazy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be me...but those are the examples I have. Those are also the examples I have of marriage and the hub and I vow that we'll be different in our marriage (we both come from divorce and remarriage etc)...so far we're doing pretty great. I suppose I could try to see it that was as far as parenting is concerned.&lt;br /&gt;That just scares me more. I don't want to mess up my precious boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for listening/reading to what's been on my mind. I can't promise I won't pour out some other story again in an attempt to run from therapy and do it my own way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6936737037285790385?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6936737037285790385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6936737037285790385' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6936737037285790385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6936737037285790385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/02/parental-units.html' title='Parental Units'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6755581377430520252</id><published>2009-01-08T17:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T17:13:13.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolved!</title><content type='html'>Now, it would make sense for my New Year's Resolution to be to lose weight. Most people resolve to do that this time of year and I have a great reason...I gained 50 lbs with that kiddo down there. I've lost 30 and I'd really like to lose at least 20 if not 25 more pounds. But, I fear if I make it my resolution then I just fall into the "cop out" resolution category. I would have needed to lose the weight regardless so I should pick something else.&lt;br /&gt;After thinking about it I chose:&lt;br /&gt;"To be 'good'."&lt;br /&gt;This was inspired by the church sermon on Sunday, but I tweaked it to fit me. I'm going to work hard to be "good". Good in all ways of life. Good to God (join the church-this one is already in the works, pray more, appreciate him more, live for him more, etc etc). Good to others (be more patient, be a good mom-even when I'm tired, be a good wife-even when I just want to yell at him, accept people more, etc etc). Be good to ME (keep myself healthy-eating, exercise, and remember to be nice to myself, etc etc). I could have thrown in blog more...but that'll be part of "be good to me". I'm sure I'll need some venting time as this year will probably prove to be such an eye opening year full of crazy times and experiences.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure what my plan is for being good. I should probably think about that. But hey, I've at least thought about my resolution...now I just really have to keep it!&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year Y'all!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SWakin_UdZI/AAAAAAAAACo/z8nTDQjKTaw/s1600-h/connornewyear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SWakin_UdZI/AAAAAAAAACo/z8nTDQjKTaw/s320/connornewyear.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289095727150298514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6755581377430520252?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6755581377430520252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6755581377430520252' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6755581377430520252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6755581377430520252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolved.html' title='Resolved!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SWakin_UdZI/AAAAAAAAACo/z8nTDQjKTaw/s72-c/connornewyear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-3961923934407151695</id><published>2008-12-10T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:31:43.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Game of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUB69nlIwPI/AAAAAAAAAB8/g653bDrKeO8/s1600-h/justnoses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUB69nlIwPI/AAAAAAAAAB8/g653bDrKeO8/s320/justnoses.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278353962293575922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think your dad said it best when he looked at me and said "We've won at the game of Life". I'd have to agree. You're perfect in everyway. Mommy can hardly believe you are 9lbs 3.6oz (yes, I put a decimal in there...as the one who birthed you I'm claiming every bit of you!) and 22 inches long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every doctor and nurse we've seen have commented on how "great" you are, how awesomely cute, alert and well-behaved you are (of course it might just be part of their job, but your dad and I agree with them anyway!). You're perfect in everyway-did I already say that? You're the softest thing I've ever touched and I can't stop touching you, holding you and kissing you. Mommy sometimes gets bored easily, but I can't imagine that holding you and looking at you would ever bore me. I am in love. You are amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy did a lot of picking on you because you were exactly a week late! Daddy and I checked into the hospital at 6pm Thursday night to receive some medicine over night to help mommy's body prepare for your arrival. Friday morning we were supposed to receive medicine to induce the labor process, but while that medicine was being ordered and mommy was eating breakfast (because they didn't expect labor to start for a long while) and showering...you started to come all on your own. In a big way. The contractions started, yes STARTED at 2 minutes apart and lasted 1 min 20 seconds each. Mommy felt like a big wimp because the pain was so intense...daddy was a real trooper and helped mommy every step of the way. Even with the paralyzing pain and vomiting (yucky) we all trucked along as best we could (hooray for "he he he whoooo").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor came in and saw mommy in pain, learned about the contractions and said "Are you ready for that epidural"...Mommy jumped (well, not literally) at that medicine! While I thought I'd be afraid of the needle in the back, I didn't care at that point! It worked IMMEDIATELY, life was great again and mommy kissed the anesthesiologist (well, not really...I think daddy would have let me though!). Daddy and I rested for a few hours and then mommy felt like she needed to get the party started and push. (A mean ol' nurse said "Well, you are ten centimeters, but you shouldn't start pushing...let your body do the work or you'll get worn out."...but being the type of mommy that she is, she advocated for herself-and you-and said "Well, I really think I want to try, it will make me feel better"...so we did). An hour later, you were in mommy's arms and she's not wanted to let you go since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your daddy has been more amazing than anyone could know...I knew he'd be great, but he's almost as amazing as you are. Mommy has needed a lot of help and daddy has done it all perfectly. I haven't even changed one diaper, daddy is taking the best care of you and me. I love him more and more each day...he's amazing with you and I can tell you love him so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're mine, you're daddy's and we're forever. It's more than I could have ever imagined and all worth it. I love you forever and always my beautiful boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUB7FeRXK2I/AAAAAAAAACE/JVjkEnAgdb8/s1600-h/connorbear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUB7FeRXK2I/AAAAAAAAACE/JVjkEnAgdb8/s320/connorbear.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278354097233668962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-3961923934407151695?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/3961923934407151695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=3961923934407151695' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3961923934407151695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3961923934407151695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/12/game-of-life.html' title='The Game of Life'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUB69nlIwPI/AAAAAAAAAB8/g653bDrKeO8/s72-c/justnoses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-7714449590442665028</id><published>2008-12-04T12:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:55:41.547-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Triple Aaaack!</title><content type='html'>So you'd think since I haven't posted that I'd had this baby already or something...at least that'd be a good excuse. But alas, 'tis not the case. I have been bored. Laid around the house, taken many a come-on-baby-get-out-already walk, done some cleaning, watched a few movies, decided to succumb to the Twilight phenomenon and read blogs. Write blogs-notsomuch. I just didn't have anything interesting to write about. Didn't want to complain about the rash that covers my body from ankle to belly button, how I've gained 50lbs and am FREAKED about how that will (or will not) come off, how bored, pathetic and READY I am to not be pregnant anymore...not to mention just READY to see, hold, touch, smell, kiss, snuggle my little boy (which, just still sounds crazy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did want you to know, that if I go on another hiatus, it is because the baby has come. PRAISE THE LORD, I finally saw a doctor who feels my pain/itchiness (because really, the itchiness is enough to drive me INSANE IN THE MEMBRANE!) and I'm going to be induced! WAHOOOOOOO to the tenth power! I check into the hospital at 6pm (so we'll be leaving the house in about an hour and a half and holy crap the next time I set foot in my house I will have my baby with me!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm dilated enough they'll start the pitocin tonight, if not I'll get some Cervidil to soften/dilate/efface the cervix and if that doesn't do the job well enough to start the pitocin in the morning...then well, I'm getting him cut out! I'll plan to post the birth story later...let's hope/pray/do a dance that it's very uneventful and boring to tell =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time we speak...I'll be a mommy-so you know what that means? I get to tell that nurse from oh so long ago that my "delayed menses" has turned into a BABY BOY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS- They estimate Connor's weight to be 8lbs 14oz...so yeah, let's hope they're over estimating a bit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-7714449590442665028?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/7714449590442665028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=7714449590442665028' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7714449590442665028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7714449590442665028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/12/triple-aaaack.html' title='Triple Aaaack!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5538155103727481234</id><published>2008-11-11T05:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T05:18:45.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaack!</title><content type='html'>Yikes! I haven't posted in a week...good grief. I really have no excuse especially since I've been on couch arrest all weekend and yesterday (possibly today, we don't know yet). Yeah so, quick update on me:&lt;br /&gt;*blood pressure slightly high on Friday&lt;br /&gt;*ordered to lay around all weekend&lt;br /&gt;*blood pressure higher on Monday&lt;br /&gt;*ordered to lay around all day&lt;br /&gt;*doc appt moved to today at 10:30am&lt;br /&gt;*nervous about what they'll say&lt;br /&gt;In many ways I hope that they say "let's just go ahead and induce, since your BP is staying higher than we'd like". The reality of that is, I might freak out a bit. I mean, I have these moments of "WHEN WILL MY BABY GET HERE?! I'M SOOO READY!" They are usually followed by "BABY!? WHO'S HAVING A BABY? ME?! REALLY?! WHAT IF I CAN'T TAKE THE PAIN AND FREAK OUT AND WHAT IF HE DOESN'T LIKE ME OR I DON'T LIKE HIM OR I SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST AND ARE YOU SURE THAT'S WHAT THIS BIG WIGGLY BELLY MEANS?!" Yeah...I guess that's all normal and stuff. It's just, I've been so excited and now that it's actually here (well maybe, well it's soon regardless) I'm having some freak out moments. &lt;br /&gt;It kinda feels like the top of the water slide. You've waited all year for summer time to come and you finally convinced mom and dad to take you to the waterpark. Your cousins are flying down each slide laughing and having the time of their lives. You see this, you know how badly you want that too...but, you're scared-what if you're not as brave as them. You suck it up, singing to yourself (because that calms you down) you put the mat down on the slide, the kids behind you are waiting so you force yourself to go because as scared as you are you can't turn back now. It's pretty unnerving the whole way down, you're singing, you're praying (for what I don't know-that you don't fly out of the side of the slide or drown in the 2 feet of water at the end even though you know how to swim) and you make it to the end. You run out of the pool to the other kids and shout "which one's next?!" Wash-rinse-repeat.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so I hope it's like that...especially since waterslides, in my experience, have been fun and painless!&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to keep you informed, but if the baby appearance is imminent then it could be a while...or I could just be lazy like I've been for the past week and decided that there's nothing interesting going on in my life nor do I have anything worth reading to say, so avoid posting. Y'all keep posting though because I'm keepin' up with all of you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5538155103727481234?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5538155103727481234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5538155103727481234' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5538155103727481234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5538155103727481234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/11/aaaack.html' title='Aaaack!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6515838170657633229</id><published>2008-11-04T03:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T04:12:21.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a musical life...</title><content type='html'>It will come as no surprise to many of you (if anyone is still reading, since I've been terrible about posting) that I LOVE MUSICALS! I am not a singer (though when I was younger my cousins and I sang quite often in our girl group "Kids in America"-we never really sought fame beyond the living room, but...) and despite my best efforts in college acting classes, I'm really no actress. But I love to watch them and dream about how I would LOVE to do that. Sing, dance, act, be on stage. Sometimes, when I listen to music I begin to reminisce about a time in my life that song reminds me of. Like yesterday, I heard Green Day's "Time of Your Life". Takes me back to freshman year of college, we were ice skating, I'd just broken up with my high school boyfriend and wondering if I'd done the right thing...then, I really listened to the words of that song "It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right...I hope you had the time of your life..." I felt better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are other songs that take me back to high school, and college, and shakin' dat azz on Franklin St...I like to think of these songs as a soundtrack to my life. Different songs mean different things and many times make me want to be walking across UNC's campus, alone, sun hitting my face, yet there is a chill in the air...I'm young, happy, confident in my newly found independence and I'm heading off to Bruegger's for lunch. Happy times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not to say I don't have happy times nowadays, but some of my best memories take me back to college days. Life is about to change in ways that I can't even imagine. Whenever this baby boy decides to meet us here on the outside my life will never be the same. Happy will mean something new. Tiredness will take on a whole new level (so I hear) and my patience will be tried...My love will grow. But I really think I'll always be that little girl singing and dancing to Wilson Phillips in the living room "Hold on for one more day..." and hopefully I'll still be that high school cheerleader that listens to Green Day (mainly because the boy she had a crush on LOVED Green Day-some of you know who I'm talkin' 'bout) and mainly I hope I'll still be that carefree college chick that's just found independence walking across the greatest campus on the planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the soundtrack to my life will continue to change, but hopefully only because I add more songs to it. Over the past year or so my hubby and I have come to really love the music of Josh Radin (played on Scrubs and Grey's Anatomy among others)...we recently got his new CD and it's the kind of music where you want to listen to the whole CD. You don't get tired of it because they don't play it on the radio (but they should)...some songs seem so deep and meaning full...and others take me back to that college campus and wonder if anyone felt this way about me (though these words don't describe me): "...she drives a vegetable car, diesal mercedes, green two door, I barely know who you are, Lisa Loeb glasses I'd sure like to ask you to stay..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds silly, but it's such a fun song...I hope you hear a song that keeps you young and carefree today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6515838170657633229?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6515838170657633229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6515838170657633229' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6515838170657633229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6515838170657633229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-musical-life.html' title='It&apos;s a musical life...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-3064611817098890198</id><published>2008-10-28T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T04:33:08.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Questions Tuesday</title><content type='html'>(basically I haven't posted in a LOOONG time and I have to hurry off to get ready for work...so this is what you get...I truly am interested though)&lt;br /&gt;Questions:&lt;br /&gt;1) If you could have any job in the world, regardless of pay, what would you want to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) What is a guilty pleasure you have that you're sort of embarrassed about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See a nice change from my disgruntled political post =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-3064611817098890198?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/3064611817098890198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=3064611817098890198' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3064611817098890198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3064611817098890198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/10/two-questions-tuesday.html' title='Two Questions Tuesday'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5931937522153739677</id><published>2008-10-17T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T14:39:34.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So I've been silent...</title><content type='html'>And I haven't said anything really about my political views or opinions. I haven't blogged about who I'm voting for and created my own personal election ad to "teach" you or sway you. But now, I have to say something...&lt;br /&gt;I just saw a disturbing video online. I don't know how credible the source is, but I must say that I don't know how these people's words could have been misconstrued or taken out of context.&lt;br /&gt;For fear of offending anyone from any particular region of the country, I won't even mention where the people in the video were from...suffice it to say, they are from one of the 50 states. The video is of people at a Republican rally being interviewed about their views of Obama.&lt;br /&gt;Now...before I go any further, let me say this. Your beliefs are your beliefs. I certainly have my own and have done some research and think long and hard about things before I make any decisions. I don't make my decisions based off what my family does necessarily or even my friends. I value their opinion, but enjoy thinking for myself. I'm not the kind of person who likes to bombard people with my political views or my religious beliefs. That's not to say that I'm ashamed of either of the two or even try to hide them...I just realize you have the right for me not to be in your face about them. If you want to know, I will certainly talk with you about my beliefs. As long as you are really doing your research and thinking of the good of the people and not just yourself (not to say you yourself are not important) then I fully respect you and your beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot respect ignorance when there are so many opportunities these days to be educated about the issues.&lt;br /&gt;So, I rambled...The people in this video (yes, back to the point) said things like "I'm afraid if Obama is president then black people will rule the country and that's just not Christian." (That was soo hard for me to type, mind you, I'm quoting someone, but still...UGH!) Seriously?? I'll just be upfront...I'm a Christian and I've never been taught anything like that! People, that kind of shiznit scares me. Please tell me where in the Bible it says that anyone other than a white boy running our country is not "Christian". &lt;br /&gt;I despise when people throw around what's "Christian" and what is "not Christian"...honestly I think it makes me look like I fall into their ignorant group because I am a Christian...but I'll tell you this, I'm not one of THEM.&lt;br /&gt;To hear people say that Obama is friends with the terrorists and that anyone voting for him must have forgotten about 9/11 otherwise they wouldn't be voting for him due to his ties to Muslims...leaves me speechless.&lt;br /&gt;These people were also saying that Obama thinks white people are "trash". Really?? I haven't heard that. I've heard Obama attack politics and I've heard McCain attack politics...and I've heard McCain correct people at his rallys for saying things like this against Obama. So really, where do these ignorant people get their "facts"?? &lt;br /&gt;It scares me (sorry to keep using that phrase over and over...but I don't have a better way to put it) that there are people who will be so gullible to believe anything...and people who are crazy enough to spread such notions.&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, I appreciate both Obama and McCain for standing up for each other (at times) on a personal level and trying to smash the ridiculous lies. For the record...neither candidate is perfect (yes, put that on the record!). I mean, I don't even agree with my husband 100% of the time, so I have a hard time believing that I'll ever agree 100% with any president...I don't agree with anyone 100% of the time...and you know what? That's ok, because that makes us individuals. &lt;br /&gt;I feel as though I'm rambling, but you know, it's my blog and I can ramble if I want to. It scares me that my son might come in contact with one of those people I was talking about...I'm sure he will at some point in his life and he'll be stuck. Stuck because his mommy and daddy will have taught him that everyone is entitled to have their own opinions, and we will have taught him to respect people's beliefs. He'll be stuck because-how do you respect comments like that? How do you not want to yell at those people? How do you not want to tell them how stupid they are? Knowing all the while they think the same thing about you...except at least you know you're right and they're wrong...and all the while they'll know they're right and you're wrong. How do you explain that?&lt;br /&gt;So, I voted today. Yep, did the early voting, did my civic duty, was patriotic, a good mommy and all that jazz...and I'm not going to be one of those people who tells you who you should vote for or what your beliefs should be (except maybe I did by insinuating that the people on the video were CRAZY)...just think. Use your noggin. And if you end up voting for someone that I didn't vote for, then I'll respect that. But don't vote for someone or not vote for someone because you're believing insane crap and racial ignorance.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I guess I'm done now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5931937522153739677?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5931937522153739677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5931937522153739677' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5931937522153739677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5931937522153739677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-ive-been-silent.html' title='So I&apos;ve been silent...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4360187609069747006</id><published>2008-10-13T03:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T04:00:36.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh where, oh where...</title><content type='html'>have I been? Well, unfortunatetly I don't really have a good reason for not blogging. I know, yes, this will be  a boring post. I had a baby shower this past weekend with my mom's family...they really outdid themselves and spoiled me (I see a trend here...but I'm not complaining). We celebrated my grandma's 88th birthday the same day. She was pretty funny at my shower, winning both games! (And NOT because we let her, but because she is ruthless...I'm not kidding, she didn't even let us win at games when we were kids!)&lt;br /&gt;Last week at work was pretty normal, but also pretty busy. I was pretty proud of all the work I did and was trusted with. I actually got to take a call with the client we're working with (which is generally not something someone in my lowly position does), and I did great!I did take off and hour and a half early on Friday because I sooo needed it! The general consensus is that this baby is not waiting until Thanksgiving...which is fine with me, I just want him to wait until November, then he's free to make his grand appearance!&lt;br /&gt;On an a health note...I should not be allowed to handle knives, plastic or otherwise for a long time! I cut my thumb pretty deep with a plastic knife at work and needed a bandaid. Then, last night while unpacking all my gifts and putting things away, I was using a knife to cut those obnoxious plastic ties that hold toys on (no, not the twisty ones, the ones that get tighter as you pull) it was like a jagged pocket knife ...yeah, I sliced about an inch long gash in my finger...I don't think it was crazy deep, but it bled like a champ! I screamed down to Josh "I'm bleeding" and then quickly added "from my finger!" Later he said he actually figured I'd cut myself and that it had nothing to do with the baby! He was good in the crisis. While it stopped bleeding pretty quick with the pressure and rinsing (and the bandaid) I still got a little woozy and needed to sit down and have some water.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'll update Connor's site in a day or so with shower info and baby room updates...See, told ya it would be boring...at least I did throw in some blood and gore for you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4360187609069747006?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4360187609069747006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4360187609069747006' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4360187609069747006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4360187609069747006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-where-oh-where.html' title='Oh where, oh where...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6269803052214069215</id><published>2008-09-25T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T17:40:37.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii</title><content type='html'>WE have a Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Yay! I cannot even tell you how excited I am about the prospect of Rock Band being played at my house. I'll just take a quick sec to toot my own horn here...I ROCK AT THE DRUMS! Who knew?!&lt;br /&gt;Now, in real life I own a guitar that I've been wanting to learn to play for years and I will ding dang it! One day, maybe whilst on maternity leave I'll dust off ye' ole gi-tar and learn to play a tune or two for mah boy! But I'm terrible at the Rock Band guitar (I truly don't think the strumming/buttons match up to the TV). So, Santa, if you're listening BRING MAMA ROCK BAND! (Incidentally I did register for a bib that says "My Mom Rocks" and I think it'd be really cool if I actually did! Watch out PINK I've got some rock moves too!)&lt;br /&gt;Oh, disclaimer: No, we don't have the $$ to be buying a Wii right now, but a game store around here is running a deal where you can sell back your old gaming system (in our case a PS2) and some games for a Wii...so, like all mature 29 year olds my hubby took his birthday $$ and old system/games and bartered them for a Wii!&lt;br /&gt;Besides Rock Band...the coolest thing I've seen is a game the hubby pointed out to me is Wii Cheer! YES A FRICKIN' CHEERLEADING GAME! Don't judge me! If you were never a cheerleader it's possible you don't understand, but think of something that you absolutely loved doing that you're too old to do now...and think about finding out it's in GAME FORM and has a workout mode that burns calories (which will come in handy to get your 17 year old cheerleader body back...ok, just your pre-baby body) so now you see what I mean. I AM STOKED!&lt;br /&gt;AGAIN, SANTA, MAMA NEEDS TO BE A ROCKIN' CHEERLEADER!  I've been a good girl =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6269803052214069215?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6269803052214069215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6269803052214069215' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6269803052214069215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6269803052214069215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/09/wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.html' title='Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5945164696824564834</id><published>2008-09-17T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T09:14:19.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of THOSE mothers...</title><content type='html'>Yeah so, I didn't &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to be one of those mothers, nor was I going to bombard this blog any further with all the preggo drama...BUT, due to hormones, general excitement and OMGIJUSTWANTTOKISSYOURFACE-ness of these, I'm posting pics of my 3D Ultrasound the other day.&lt;br /&gt;Here's my little man!&lt;br /&gt;smiling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SNErpi2FEGI/AAAAAAAAABg/-Zm1es8hFpY/s1600-h/connorsmiles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SNErpi2FEGI/AAAAAAAAABg/-Zm1es8hFpY/s320/connorsmiles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247023033591599202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thinking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SNErpmFr1qI/AAAAAAAAABo/ZJsfhnsTDQs/s1600-h/connorthinking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SNErpmFr1qI/AAAAAAAAABo/ZJsfhnsTDQs/s320/connorthinking.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247023034462361250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yawning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SNErp7r6jHI/AAAAAAAAABw/LNnRHk7WRBg/s1600-h/sleepybaby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SNErp7r6jHI/AAAAAAAAABw/LNnRHk7WRBg/s320/sleepybaby.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247023040259853426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh well...I'm one of THOSE moms!)&lt;br /&gt;-PS-the darkness of his eye is just a shadow, I asked about that and checked out other 3D images online-yes, I'm also obsessive and feared my baby had already encountered a fight and had his first black eye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5945164696824564834?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5945164696824564834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5945164696824564834' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5945164696824564834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5945164696824564834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-of-those-mothers.html' title='One of THOSE mothers...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SNErpi2FEGI/AAAAAAAAABg/-Zm1es8hFpY/s72-c/connorsmiles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-3599519099823494842</id><published>2008-09-16T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T10:29:30.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's 4:00am...do you know where your husband is?</title><content type='html'>Guess where I found mine at 4:00am this morning?? Just guess...nope...uh-uh...wrong...you'll never guess it! Wait-who said that? That's right! He was in Connor's room, rocking in the rocking chair, holding the monkey we made at build-a-bear and reading tax! Cute as it was, I'm worried about him. This is the second night in a row I've caught him up around this time doing school work! He's in his last year of law school and with baby on the way and the BAR looming over him, money issues, interviews for jobs, responsibilities with school and the law journal-whew! He's got a lot going on!&lt;br /&gt;I take for granted that he doesn't  "shut down" like I do. I cry, pout, feel sorry for myself, get angry, refuse to do work and then at the last minute some how pull through get the job done. He seems so much stronger than that...and is, but that doesn't mean he doesn't stress.&lt;br /&gt;I'm the one who obsesses and stresses about money...if we don't have a budget/plan in place then I freak out and can't focus on anything other than the budget until it's done! He however, sees himself as "the man"...the "provider". Not that he's all "a woman's place is the home" (though he has enjoyed the occasional "haha, you're barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen!") But I think these past few years of law school and accruing more debt and me being the only one bringing home a paycheck (except for this past summer-whew his paycheck helped!) has made him feel more pressure to have something amazing come out of these last 3 years of school.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it would be fabulous if he landed a big job...that he enjoyed...and that could pay for a new house (with a backyard for our son and dog), travel, new cars, etc. He knows I don't have to have those things-but we both definitely dream of them. Regardless of what job he gets, grades he attains or any honors or recognitions...me and the boys (the dog and the baby) will love him no matter what...just because of who he is.&lt;br /&gt;I just hope he doesn't stress himself out too much! Keep him in your thoughts...that he sleeps at night! (though he claims he believes it's Connor waking him up saying "daddy, get used to this time because this is when I'll be waking you up in a few months"...I do wish I'd taken a picture of him rocking that monkey and reading his tax book!)&lt;br /&gt;Love you honey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-3599519099823494842?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/3599519099823494842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=3599519099823494842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3599519099823494842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3599519099823494842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-400amdo-you-know-where-your-husband.html' title='It&apos;s 4:00am...do you know where your husband is?'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5281204866528316291</id><published>2008-09-11T03:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T04:10:20.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You don't look that big today!</title><content type='html'>Yeah...I'm trying to take it with ease now. But how do you respond to that? Anywho, where have I been and what have I been doing? Not blogging obviously. Really not a lot going on. We do have some baby stuff going on (doc appts, labor/delivery tour, pediatrician interviewing, 3D ultrasound, daycare touring...and that's just this month), other than that really I just come home, cook dinner and sit on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in the middle of planning a big party for the hubby's 29th-yeah, it's not his 30th yet. But, with baby on the way who knows what we'll be able to do for his 30th next year. My 30th on the other hand is in February and I see lots of partying in my future-someone just needs to remind me that 2 drinks got me plenty tipsy before baby and surely I won't be able to have more than 2 after baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UGH! My beach trip last weekend was canceled...my only beach trip this summer. I can't tell you the last time I didn't see the beach during the summer. And the friggin' hurricane was a bust! Now, I'm thankful for that...just wish I'd known it was safe to head to the beach where the hurricane was landing! NEXT YEAR I'M GOING FOR A WEEK...EVEN IF IT'S JUST ME AND THE BABY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I need to go get ready for work, but the Today Show just reminded me that today is 9/11. I'm ashamed to say that earlier this week all I thought of today as was 2 of my friends birthday's...selfish of me because this day directly affected soo many people and our country. I'm one of the lucky ones, I don't know anyone that suffered or died because of 9/11. I truly am not so ignorant that I don't recognize what an impact this day still carries...I will be thinking about it all day. I did visit "ground zero" a couple months after the attack and I can't even describe the feelings I had being there...even stronger than when I visited Pearl Harbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope our new president can fix some relationships we have with other countries...every American is not selfish, ignorant or intolerant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5281204866528316291?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5281204866528316291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5281204866528316291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5281204866528316291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5281204866528316291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-dont-look-that-big-today.html' title='You don&apos;t look that big today!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-1822151154916361428</id><published>2008-08-24T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T05:08:03.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Moment to Brag About</title><content type='html'>So I don't brag on my hubby too much here...mainly because then if I complained about him you'd think I was just a mean hormonal beotch. Just two days ago I was soo mad at him for being insensitive, but...that's another story. I've decided that the reason I get soo mad when he does act insensitive or mean is because it seems soo out of character when you consider this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 9:30 last night, I was here...home...alone (well, with the doggie) watching Comedy Central. Where was my husband? Off with another woman. Before you get all "WHAT?" remember I told you this was something to brag about. You see, he was at the hospital with another pregnant girl...that was alone and in labor. She was nervous (I'm guessing that translates to "scared $hitless") and is a single girl. Her family is in another state, mom was on the way, but it would be hours. This "other pregnant lady" is a friend of the hubby's, they go to school together. I've only met her a couple of times, but I can only guess that she sees some things in him that I do...trust, genuine caring for others, and a man that would be there. So,as soon as he found out she was at the hospital he worried on and off throughout the evening about her being there, in labor, alone. I was crying because I just couldn't imagine having to do that alone. (Heck, I cry when I think about doing it with him right there b/c it makes me nervous, translation "scared $hitless"). He asks me if it's ok if he calls her back and sees if she'll let him come over. Of course I say "yes". I'm hoping she'll let him come...I'm hoping she'll MAKE someone come. He calls and she's in lots of pain and says "please come". I cried...how hard for her...how sweet of him.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so I laid here last night...cuddled up with my puppy. And he, well, he went and showed us what a good dad he is, even if it's not his "turn" yet. He got the nurse when her water broke, she squeezed his hand through the contractions, he listened to her scream. He called about 10:30/11 to say that he'd gotten a couple more friends to show up and the "pregnant lady's" cousin got there. He waited for a while to see if she'd go in delivery and have the baby (her cousin was going into delivery with her...I know he wasn't something he wanted to do, but I think if she'd wanted him to, he'd have gone in there with her...her cousin was there and she went). He got home about 1 am, she still hadn't had the baby...but she wasn't alone.&lt;br /&gt;I love him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-1822151154916361428?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/1822151154916361428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=1822151154916361428' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1822151154916361428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1822151154916361428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/08/moment-to-brag-about.html' title='A Moment to Brag About'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-2682667085144078132</id><published>2008-08-20T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T17:00:23.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuttin' Much</title><content type='html'>Nuttin' much going on here. Just obsessing over the Olympics, hangin' with the hubby, bugging Babies R Us about my dang furniture, petting my doggie, running errands, stressing about the budget (aka lack of $$)...ah, you know the ush (pronounced "yoo-zsh"). Thus, I really have nothing to say. I had thought of several things I wanted to blog about...I tell no lies when I say-MY PREGO BRAIN CAUSED ME TO FORGET ALL OF IT.&lt;br /&gt;One thing I can harp on again is the fact that 2 stalls in the potty at work today were gross! How do you flush the toilet and not see the surprises you've left behind for the next person. I no longer take care of children (that is until mine arrives) and I will not clean up after you. It is not in my job description and I didn't have rubber gloves. SERIOUSLY! I know, I've mentioned this before, but we are adults...wipe the dang seat!!&lt;br /&gt;On another note, my hubby did a short trip to the grocery today and came home with a surprise for me...2 boxes of brownies (b/c it was 2 for $4). Which I promptly made and ate a big ol' chunk of. I have been saying I want brownies a lot lately.&lt;br /&gt;I truly am sorry I have nothing else to offer you today...I went swimming, came home made my deviled chicken salad, ate my brownie and I'm watching Wheel Of Fortune on the couch with my puppy dog...life is lame...but most of the time I like it that way.&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are enjoying yourself whether you've got nuttin' much going on or a lot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-2682667085144078132?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/2682667085144078132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=2682667085144078132' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2682667085144078132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2682667085144078132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/08/nuttin-much.html' title='Nuttin&apos; Much'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8284639395396757732</id><published>2008-08-07T17:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T17:27:54.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookin' with Breezy</title><content type='html'>So yeah, I don't post for a while and then I go and give you something boring like a recipe...but SERIOUSLY this is good! Maybe it's my crazy prego palate, I don't know, but I have had this same meal twice this week b/c I love it soo much. The hub even likes it (minus the grapes).&lt;br /&gt;In 30 minutes you too can have fabulous "deviled chicken salad" and "breezy fries". Now, I just made up these names, don't kill my buzz (I'm high off good food sillies!!) and tell me these things already existed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Deviled Chicken Salad:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 chicken breasts (boil them)&lt;br /&gt;2 hard boiled eggs&lt;br /&gt;2 tbs mayo&lt;br /&gt;a couple of swirly squirts of mustard (basically to taste)&lt;br /&gt;1/2 Italian dressing/seasoning packet (the dry stuff)&lt;br /&gt;grapes (as many as you want)&lt;br /&gt;cucumber (cut really small, as much or as little as you want...just as good w/o too)&lt;br /&gt;Cut/shred the chicken after it's cooked. Chop up your eggs, include the yellow too. Cut the grapes into quarters, toss in your cucumber bits, stir in mayo and mustard...OH YEAH, the best part, the seasoning packet-toss 1/2 the packet in. Stir around to completely coat the ingredients. YU-UM-MEEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Breezy Fries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 baking potatoes&lt;br /&gt;Olive Oil&lt;br /&gt;the other 1/2 of that Italian Dressing/Seasoning packet.&lt;br /&gt;Cut potatoes into small cubes, toss in a bowl w/ olive oil and seasoning...cook for about 15 minutes on a baking sheet at 450 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly wish I'd taken a picture of our dinner. I had this great wheat bread, fluffy green lettuce on the sandwich and my fries on the side. Truly I was proud and it could have been featured as a summer dish in a fancy magazine. I AM IN LOVE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that I HATE MAYO?? Yeah, weird stuff happens when you're prego. (incidentally I still won't eat it on a sandwich, but in the chicken salad it's fab!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8284639395396757732?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8284639395396757732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8284639395396757732' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8284639395396757732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8284639395396757732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/08/cookin-with-breezy.html' title='Cookin&apos; with Breezy'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-2562753249911629678</id><published>2008-07-27T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:46:19.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>These are a few of my favorite things!</title><content type='html'>While taking a bathroom break in Target yesterday (one of many these days...fortunately not usually at Target, I prefer my own clean potty) I heard one of the cutest things.&lt;br /&gt;3 year old boy- Mommy! There are two of my favorite things in here!&lt;br /&gt;The mommy- What are they?&lt;br /&gt;3 year old boy- A potty...and...a sprinkley water spout! (aka faucet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed the mom's reply, but I can tell you that I would have picked him up and squeezed him!! (except I don't know him and I was in mid pee at the time).&lt;br /&gt;How cute is that?!&lt;br /&gt;Hooray for little boys!!&lt;br /&gt;If only we got excited about the little things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS(to answer my last post, "Kiss my grits" is what Flo used to say on a show called Alice. Apparently I used to say it a lot as a kid. One time was unexpectedly caught on camera while my dad was filming my mom read "3 Billy Goats Gruff" to me (my favorite story as a child and the first book I learned to "read"-technically I just memorized it word for word...but that was a start.) and my mom got to the part where it tells what the troll under the bridge says. It says this repeatedly in the book and I always said it right on cue. This time, however, possibly for the camera:&lt;br /&gt;mom- "And the troll said"...what did the troll say Breezy&lt;br /&gt;me- KISS MY GRITS!!&lt;br /&gt;laughter erupts...&lt;br /&gt;Gosh I hope my kid is funny!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-2562753249911629678?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/2562753249911629678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=2562753249911629678' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2562753249911629678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2562753249911629678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/07/these-are-few-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='These are a few of my favorite things!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5453566959955994607</id><published>2008-07-20T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:21:35.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really? I mean...really?</title><content type='html'>So, my husband makes fun of the fact that a month or so before I started blogging I said something like "who blogs? that's just weird." Yeah, so now, I LOVE IT. I love reading what's going on with my friends and with people I don't even know. Which brings me to the "Really?"&lt;br /&gt;DUDES...PEOPLE READ MY BLOG! I don't mean my friends or cousins and what not (they read, or at least they say they do)...I mean ::gasp:: STRANGERS! People I don't know! Now, how they find me is a mystery. Probably the same way I find them, clicking on other peoples blog lists. Now, just the other day I got a comment from someone I don't know. Thus, I began reading her blog. I then began clicking on her blog list and lo and behold! MY BLOG IS IN SOMEONE ELSE'S list of blogs they read! WHAT?!&lt;br /&gt;I mean...really? People read my rambly ellipses filled run-on sentence badly punctuated string of nonsensical thought? To quote my show "SERIOUSLY"?! Kinda makes a girl feel, all special and stuff. It also makes me feel...PRESSURE. What if they think I'm stupid or boring or shallow or annoying or...or...I don't know but peopleIdunnoreadmyblogandthatiskewl!&lt;br /&gt;Ok, enough...I shall pull myself together and not act like a dorky little girl. Ah hem. Well, thank you for stopping by and reading. Please feel free to make a comment because lord knows that when my regulars don't keep up with their posting I need something else to read during my lunch breaks at work. So, comment (but please remember even though I'm not bombarding you with preggo stories, I am, well, vulnerable...I cried for no reason at church today, we were just singing the morning songs and well...I cried like a baby...soo embarrassing!)&lt;br /&gt;OH, and the hubby says I should explain "Kiss My Grits" (I thought maybe I did explain that in my initial post, but perhaps not)...Hopefully I'll remember to tell you that. I'd like for you to guess though (I suppose it won't be much of a guess if I did already tell you-so fingers crossed I didn't). The lines will be open at the end of this post, standard text messaging rates don't apply, all comments are free. Let's see if you're as cultured as me =)&lt;br /&gt;(Ha ha! I DID make an initial post that explained "Kiss My Grits"...but, I have removed it, for now...I'll tell you this though the Grits part has nothing to do with the little tid bit I just learned about GRITS being an acronym for "Girls Raised In The South"...though I am.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5453566959955994607?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5453566959955994607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5453566959955994607' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5453566959955994607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5453566959955994607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/07/really-i-meanreally.html' title='Really? I mean...really?'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-1402785206924388010</id><published>2008-07-18T08:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T09:08:15.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Don't Go Girl</title><content type='html'>Yeah, so NKOTB is making a come back. They are back together and touring again. I can't say that my 29 year old self is all "wahoo, that's some good music, what a band". BUT, my 10 year old inner self is "OMG! NKOTB I LOVE THEM!"&lt;br /&gt;When they were on the Today Show a while back, I came in late to work b/c I was dancing and singing along with their concert. Again, say what you will, but the 10 year old inner child in me was screaming and crying and waving my hands (ok, so I wasn't crying, but if I was there I would have been!). Depending on how long you've known me, you may have heard the story about how I've actually touched Joey Joe =) Yes, for reals doh! We held hands, albeit for a brief moment, but hey I put that right up there with the time I went to the Grammy's and was in USA Today with Justin Timberlake and the time I was almost in a movie in NYC.&lt;br /&gt;Now for the sad part...At first, there was no concert in NC. The closest one would have been ATL. But then, one day while I was sitting in my cube, minding my own business (probably eating some candy-for the baby) I got this email. Subject line: NKOTB in Charlotte! Yes! SCORE! I'm totally going I don't care if the tickets are a bazillion dollars-HOLD ON JUST A MINUTE! WHAT?! They aren't coming until Oct 30th? Seriously? Why not July 30th...Heck, why not Dec 30th?&lt;br /&gt;The hubby thinks (and I guess I agree) that Oct 30th is waay too close to baby Connor's birthday and I shouldn't chance it.&lt;br /&gt;I like to think that Joey Joe planned this whole thing for me. I mean, he's coming back to NC, where we met, held hands, gazed into each others eyes...well, even married preggo mama's are allowed to dream.&lt;br /&gt;So, Que Sera Sera...whatever will be, will be. I guess I'll just have to hope that Joey has Santa-like intuition and is able to find the Breezy wherever she may be. I'll keep you posted. &lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, if you one of those people who are interested in my pregnancy/Connor updates you can continue to find those at the "Connor" link over on the side there. I've created a page for him so my relatives, friends, strangers who love babies or ridiculously huge short southern pregnant women (yes, the belly has grown substantially, pictures will be up on Connor's site soon...whoa is me, literally whoa!).&lt;br /&gt;As NKOTB would say keep "Hangin' Tough"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-1402785206924388010?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/1402785206924388010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=1402785206924388010' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1402785206924388010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1402785206924388010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/07/please-dont-go-girl.html' title='Please Don&apos;t Go Girl'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-2839647875931316004</id><published>2008-07-08T17:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:52:54.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Puffy...and I don't mean Sean Combs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SHQCsoDWrlI/AAAAAAAAABI/D6U27CWdz88/s1600-h/summer08+054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SHQCsoDWrlI/AAAAAAAAABI/D6U27CWdz88/s320/summer08+054.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220800833718234706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so my feet don't "normally" look like that. But...now...this is "normal" at the end of the day. Tight, puffy, swollen feet and legs is what I get. Luckily a few minutes of laying on the couch with my feet propped up does the trick OR swimming at the pool (shh, we don't live at those apartments anymore...but no one goes to that pool anyway!)&lt;br /&gt;So I can tell you a few secrets of pregnancy...things no one tells you, not even those "cool" pregnancy books or your friends ('course maybe they haven't told me b/c either I'm weird or it just hasn't come up):&lt;br /&gt;-Pregnant ladies rub their bellies to RELEASE GAS! It ain't because they are all "oh, ah, let me rub my baby", it's because we get gas, bad bad gas, that is only released by rubbing the magic genie of the colon, to have it pop out.&lt;br /&gt;-Swelling feet are uncomfortable, even out of shoes...it feels like you have jelly on top of your feet and I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;-Pregnant ladies waddle because their legs are swollen and their calves are tight OR because our gas smells REALLY bad and we're clinching our cheeks to hold back the magic smelly genie from exiting right in your FACE.&lt;br /&gt;-You might get huge bruises on your butt cheeks just from sitting on a hard surface. Yes friends, I suffered 2 huge bruises on each cheek from sitting on a picnic table enjoying some tasty Goodberry's. It's ok, they will go away, but your hubby might want to check on your cheeks hourly..."to make sure it's healing".&lt;br /&gt;-The baby kicking, while a reassuring feeling, is a little unsettling...it's just weird. I'm sure I'll get more used to it. Don't get me wrong it's all "amazing" and "miraculous" and I love it...but it's weird.&lt;br /&gt;-You will huff and puff and practically have to throw yourself out of bed even at an early stage because it's hard to move around all this new found baby weight.&lt;br /&gt;Well, peeps...I'd better wrap this up and start watching "P.S. I Love You" the hubby was nice enough to Netflix that for me...gonna go cry (from what I hear).&lt;br /&gt;Oh and just to counter the above nasty pic...I want to let you know, that I'm still one sassy momma!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SHQHjaoBBYI/AAAAAAAAABQ/yIRLitD8hB0/s1600-h/summer08+052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SHQHjaoBBYI/AAAAAAAAABQ/yIRLitD8hB0/s320/summer08+052.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220806173053224322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-2839647875931316004?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/2839647875931316004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=2839647875931316004' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2839647875931316004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/2839647875931316004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/07/puffyand-i-dont-mean-sean-combs.html' title='Puffy...and I don&apos;t mean Sean Combs.'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SHQCsoDWrlI/AAAAAAAAABI/D6U27CWdz88/s72-c/summer08+054.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4384793028739177495</id><published>2008-06-27T04:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:52:54.292-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get in my BELLY!</title><content type='html'>Well, he is in my belly! Here's the belly pic that you've been wanting to see...it's very recent, from Wednesday. Also, I apologize that the last pic is sideways, just turn your head b/c I don't know how to turn it! We'll see if I'm right side up!&lt;br /&gt;Tadaa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SGTQQ4VKt-I/AAAAAAAAABA/IrwPXdmq0GE/s1600-h/OfficeBellyBaby+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SGTQQ4VKt-I/AAAAAAAAABA/IrwPXdmq0GE/s320/OfficeBellyBaby+029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216523256819529698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4384793028739177495?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4384793028739177495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4384793028739177495' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4384793028739177495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4384793028739177495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/06/get-in-my-belly.html' title='Get in my BELLY!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SGTQQ4VKt-I/AAAAAAAAABA/IrwPXdmq0GE/s72-c/OfficeBellyBaby+029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6283687173416968364</id><published>2008-06-27T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:52:54.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's hear it for the BOY!</title><content type='html'>(Here HE is...his little hands are crossed Power Ranger style below his face.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SGTO2OfdzxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/TT4T4xqT_EY/s1600-h/OfficeBellyBaby+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SGTO2OfdzxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/TT4T4xqT_EY/s320/OfficeBellyBaby+034.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216521699400208146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's hear it for my baby!" I just love that song...but you know what I love more? My baby...my real baby. It's a boy!! Yes dad, Josh, was wrong...oh so wrong. This boy is not shy about showing you his "manhood". He was all spread eagle and he's a wiggly little thing too. The nurse doing the ultrasound was talking to him, asking him to stop wigglin' for a minute b/c she needed to take some pictures. Though he wiggled the ENTIRE time, she was able to get all the pictures she needed and good ones. We have several of him posing (good grief, just like his mama, posing for pictures!). He's throwing up the peace sign in one of them...such the little rockstar! We got two 4-D pictures of him...AMAZING. &lt;br /&gt;I am completely amazed. Yes, my belly is getting obviously big and yes people still keep picking on me. You know what though...my doctor measured me and I'm right on target for the size I'm supposed to be (the nurse confirmed it!). So HA, IN YO' FACE RUDE TALKERS! (sounds like a Moe's dish huh?) But it's still amazing that there is a little person in there...a little person named Josh Connor. We're calling him Connor, after Josh's grandfather, but Josh really wanted his name in there.&lt;br /&gt;I have never been happier in my life and though I've had some really sad and hard times in my life...I've had LOTS of happy, but this takes the cake! And all my friends and co-workers yesterday were so sweet to let me fly on cloud nine all day and brag about how cute my baby is. Connor. Oh, so awesome to call him a name! He's measuring perfectly, photographing perfectly, and so far...behaving perfectly. However, he is a boy so I'm REALLY hoping that he'll take 1 big thing from each of us...his looks from Josh and his behavior from me (yes, I was a "good girl" and caused no trouble for my parents...I'm all about him helping me be a good parent!).&lt;br /&gt;Connor, I can't wait to meet you, but I will because I want you to be strong and healthy...I love you baby boy! (and I'm sorry your daddy has been calling you "she/her" for so long...I told him not to) &lt;br /&gt;By the way Josh is over the moon and grinned from ear to ear yesterday about his son, never fear, he is NOT disappointed. He kept jumping up from his seat to get a closer look at screen to see his little boy =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6283687173416968364?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6283687173416968364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6283687173416968364' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6283687173416968364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6283687173416968364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/06/lets-hear-it-for-boy.html' title='Let&apos;s hear it for the BOY!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SGTO2OfdzxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/TT4T4xqT_EY/s72-c/OfficeBellyBaby+034.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-3911841494555474905</id><published>2008-06-23T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T15:02:40.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Party at my crib!</title><content type='html'>Yay!! We got the crib...it's in pieces and sitting in the guest bedroom...which is still full of furniture. So it seems we won't be putting it together for a little while. But I'm very eager to!&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of eager, we'll be doing our own little celebratory dance on Thursday because we'll finally be able to call our baby by its name! Yes, Thursday is the ultrasound day and yes, we have names picked out. I'll be sure to post and let you know =)&lt;br /&gt;We had Josh's cousin and her hubby over for the weekend...soo much fun. Even though we didn't do a ton it's so much fun to hang out with a couple that you get along with so well and feel so comfortable with. Love them! And they bought us the cutest pacifiers from the UNC student stores...Go Heels! I think it'd be totally cool if they had "Duke Sucks" pacifiers, but I guess that's inappropriate language for a baby.&lt;br /&gt;Last thing...GO SEE "GET SMART"...soooooooo funny, ignore the reviews and listen to me. I laughed my ass off and believe me, it's gotten bigger so that was no easy feat. Hilarious!&lt;br /&gt;Better go feed my dog so I can go join some friends at Torrero's yuuuuuummmmmmmmy...too bad I still have a few more months before I can partake in the Margharita's, oh well, it's worth it!!&lt;br /&gt;Love you baby ___________ (we'll know what to call you soon!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-3911841494555474905?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/3911841494555474905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=3911841494555474905' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3911841494555474905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3911841494555474905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/06/party-at-my-crib.html' title='Party at my crib!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-7870379839245616852</id><published>2008-06-23T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T14:56:53.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Common Courtesy</title><content type='html'>Here are some things that have been bugging me about people lately:&lt;br /&gt;1) Not holding the elevator door when you obviously see me coming&lt;br /&gt;2) Not saying "Thank You", when I (a pregnant lady) hold the door for YOU!&lt;br /&gt;3) Saying "When are you due" only to follow it by "are you sure you're not having twins?"&lt;br /&gt;3) Leaving the toilet full of pee and toilet paper (we are adults here people)&lt;br /&gt;4) Not wiping the toilet seat after you've had what appears to be an explosion (how does one flush and not notice they got some doo doo on the back of the seat? how do you get doo doo on the back of the seat?)&lt;br /&gt;5) Giving no response when I smile at you and say "good morning" in the hallway&lt;br /&gt;6) Asking me what flavor of Frosty I want...PEOPLE, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU MENU SAYS, WENDY'S ONLY HAS ONE FLAVOR OF FROSTY, IT'S CHOCOLATE! THOSE OTHER FLAVORS ARE IMPOSTOR FROSTIES!&lt;br /&gt;7) If you're one of those kiosk people at the mall and I tell you I'm not interested don't keep pestering me&lt;br /&gt;8) Don't be so hoity toity and ignore me when I'm the ONLY customer in your store...YOU ARE A FRIGGIN' SALES PERSON FOR POTTERY BARN, YOU DON'T OWN IT NOR IS IT LIKELY THAT YOU ARE SOO RICH YOU CAN IGNORE ME (not that I want to be pestered in stores, but it just doesn't make good sense to ask me if I need help when I'm clearly standing at the register with my purchase...um no, genius, I helped myself)&lt;br /&gt;9) People who jump a buffet line just b/c they are coming from the other direction (this refers to the pizza table today at work...there was a clear progression of a line people, you just don't walk up to the opposite end and pick up your slice when I've been waiting!!! You're very lucky there was another piece of pepperoni for the preggo lady!)&lt;br /&gt;10) Taking my order while you are on the phone chatting with your friend...ok so maybe I should learn from this b/c I've given my fair share of orders while I'm on the phone with friends...point taken.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are more things that bug me, but these are the 10 that came to mind...What bugs you that you'd think would be common courtesy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-7870379839245616852?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/7870379839245616852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=7870379839245616852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7870379839245616852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7870379839245616852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/06/common-courtesy.html' title='Common Courtesy'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5523311741026920005</id><published>2008-06-05T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T16:34:25.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh No She DIDN'T</title><content type='html'>Oh yes I did, 3 count them 3 posts in one day. It's a new record people. I was beginning to worry that I might have lost my fan base, but hopefully you'll still check on me every so often...Don't give up on me!&lt;br /&gt;So, another "Oh no she didn't". The other day I went to the cafeteria/breakroom downstairs where we have a caterer (um, no it is not that great of food, but hey, it's there). I got a yogurt. I'd noticed the lady eyeing me a few times before when I've gone to get ice. Heck, I've noticed several people around the office eyeing me...but let's just say they've had a little more tact than this woman.&lt;br /&gt;**Warning, the following vernacular is not meant to offend, just meant to be verbatim**&lt;br /&gt;Her: Is you gainin' weight?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, I am...but I have a good reason, the baby's making me do it.&lt;br /&gt;Her: Well I thought yo' face getting puffy and yo' belly stickin' out.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (nod, pay for yogurt, think mean thoughts)&lt;br /&gt;So, really? Is that what we're saying to people we don't even know nowadays? Seriously? If you've known me for a while you probably know that I have what I call "fat face days". I fear I am cursed with the bloat gene from my mother who bloats at the thought of sodium. So some days, for many years now, I wake up and think "ugh, my face looks fat" and others I wake up "hell, yeah, today is not a fat face day". I tend to feel fat faced lately at the end of the day when I'm blown up like a beach ball. It's weird, in the morning, I look like I'm 15 weeks preggo (which I am) and by dinner time, I look around 30 weeks...no joke sister.&lt;br /&gt;This particular day I didn't think I was having a fat face day and needless to say she squashed that. I already feel like I look bigger than I should, but what can you do. My arms are flabby mush and my legs/butt/thigh area, well, let's just say it's looked better. I need to exercise, I know this...but the air quality is not so good these days b/c of the heat. I did go swimming the other night and I swear my legs had less cottage cheese from only one night of exercise...they probably got all excited like "OMG! We are muscular, we can tone up, you must love us again you are using us...yippee!" Only to realize it was just a one night stand. Poor legs.&lt;br /&gt;I envision myself finding my long lost Britney Spears circa Slave for You body, after the baby is born...I fear this might not happen, but I'm like that little ant pushing the rubber tree plant. I have "high hopes, she's got high hopes, she's got, high apple pie in the sky hopes" (what? your mom didn't sing you the ant and rubber tree song? sorry...I sometimes forget I'm soo cultured.) &lt;br /&gt;Ah well, what's most important is a healthy baby...love you little ninja (oh, that's the new baby name b/c when we went to our last appointment the baby was kicking a ton during the doppler heartbeat reading).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5523311741026920005?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5523311741026920005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5523311741026920005' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5523311741026920005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5523311741026920005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/06/oh-no-she-didnt.html' title='Oh No She DIDN&apos;T'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5995087235393314150</id><published>2008-06-05T16:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T16:20:40.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And yet, another post</title><content type='html'>Get excited!! I know you've been waiting a while for a post and now more than 1 in a day!&lt;br /&gt;So I have a few random questions:&lt;br /&gt;1)What the heck are you people watching on TV?? Seriously I need evening TV advice I don't know what's on or worth watching since all my shows are on hiatus 'til the fall. HELP!!&lt;br /&gt;2)Um yeah, so I've got a few months still, but I'm already stressing over feeding the baby. I have no clue about this. I plan to try and breastfeed, but I want to use bottles as well so Josh can feed the baby. WHAT KIND OF FRIGGIN' BOTTLES DO YOU FRIGGIN' USE AND HOW MANY DO I NEED TO GET? PUH-LEASE HELP ME ON THAT!&lt;br /&gt;3)What do you people use for skin care...I can't get too expensive here, but my back looks like a teenage boys face. I suppose it could be worse, I guess my face could look like a teenage boy, but still...it's summer and you have to show your back at some point.&lt;br /&gt;4)I have this reoccurring bad taste in my mouth. It's triggered by acid I think, but I can't live without fruit or Italian food, so I need help. Can I get rid of this? I know it's a pregnancy thing, but sometimes it's soo bad just the taste of my own mouth makes me feel sick.&lt;br /&gt;5)I need some new, fairly healthy and cheap recipes. I'm starting to feel more like cooking, but I get in a rut.&lt;br /&gt;6)Any mommy that may be reading...Suggest to me something you had for your baby that you couldn't live without and something you had that you really didn't need.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'll leave it at 6...6 very important questions mind you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5995087235393314150?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5995087235393314150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5995087235393314150' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5995087235393314150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5995087235393314150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/06/and-yet-another-post.html' title='And yet, another post'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4944680288179793003</id><published>2008-06-05T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T16:09:41.472-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Score and 3 Years Ago...</title><content type='html'>Ok, so it wasn't Four Score, but it was 3 years ago that I married my hubby =) We celebrated 3 wonderful years yesterday. For as much as he can be "a guy" and get on my nerves...he's the most thoughtful, loving, caring, funny, witty, smart, special man that I know. I don't often talk about him or how great he is...well every so often I do have to tell him these things because as he likes to tell me "I need praise sometimes"...I don't brag about him as much as I could, or should. He really is the perfect one. No, not perfect person, who is?, but he's the perfect one for me. &lt;br /&gt;When I think back about that wedding day the thing I remember most is walking towards him and knowing it was for always. We both come from divorce. In fact I've been through  4 marriages (other than mine) and he's been through 2 (other than ours). How do we know how to do this? I don't know if we know how it's supposed to be done, but we know what's working for us and that we'll always have to work at it.&lt;br /&gt;When we began as a couple I thought I'd always love him more...he teases me that he loves me more and to a certain degree he is right. Oddly enough, he loves me better. I am spoiled. I love him more than he can imagine, but I must admit he's better at showing it than me (now I'm sure if you asked him, he'd say I was better at it). And, I like it that way. I think it's good for us to "compete" to show the other person how much we love the other. Can't hurt to compete over that right?&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday he showed me just that again. Not that I needed a gift, but my gift for my 3rd anniversary was a day at the spa. I get a massage and a pedi. "The 3rd year" he said, "is leather and I couldn't find you anything leather. So I thought I'll 'let-her' have what she wants." He still wants to be my knight in shining armor. How thoughtful. What did I get him? Well, I got something for the baby...toys. Josh loves lions and I went and bought several lion baby toys. He thought it was great, but I think we know my gift from him was better. I started to cry and say "we shouldn't spend the money for me to have a spa day" and he said "well, that's for the baby too, you're carrying the baby..." I tell ya what, he has become so sweet about this whole baby thing. Not that I thought he wouldn't, but it's just soo special to see. I asked him the other day if it bugged him that everyone always wanted to talk about the baby and a lot of that attention was on me. His reply "No way, this baby is the most important thing in my life right now."&lt;br /&gt;He still thinks I look sexy and beautiful despite the bloat and weight gain and gas etc. He packs my lunch and writes me notes about the wonderful mommy I'll be. He lays his hand on my belly and prays for the baby. He reassures me when I'm obsessing over fears. He buys me organic milk because that's better for the baby. Once the baby is born he wants me to start drinking a glass of red wine a day because he heard it can add 10 years to your life and he wants to keep me around as long as possible. He cleans the kitchen every morning and vacuums the stairs because I shouldn't strain myself. He gets me drinks or a snack in the middle of the night if I need one. He can't wait for me to have a craving so bad I have to have something random in the middle of the night so he can go get it. He listens to my complaints and rants even when he doesn't want to...and at the end of each and everyday he loves me.&lt;br /&gt;He is wonderful and I can only hope that our son will be just like him and that our daughter will find a man for herself that is just like daddy. How truly blessed I am in these three short years and how blessed the rest of my life will be because of him. He says I changed him, saved him, made him better...all I know is that I knew all along this is what it could be like. Thank God I was right.&lt;br /&gt;I love you honey! My K.I.S.A forever! (Knight In Shining Armor)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4944680288179793003?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4944680288179793003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4944680288179793003' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4944680288179793003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4944680288179793003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/06/four-score-and-3-years-ago.html' title='Four Score and 3 Years Ago...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-7912740898572762240</id><published>2008-05-22T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T16:31:21.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Gotta Have Faith, Faith, Faith (ahhh)</title><content type='html'>So America got it right this year (or well, the producers)...I was worried because I really just don't think Archuletta is an Idol. I wouldn't buy his record, I wouldn't go to his concert and he wouldn't make it on popular radio. Can he sing? Yes. Does he have a crazy gift? Yes. Will he make money off of his singing? I'm pretty sure. But it was Cook who had my heart and my vote (though I didn't actually get to vote because the line kept being busy).&lt;br /&gt;Grey's is ending for the season tonight...I hope I can make it up that late, but dude am I tired. I don't really know how excited I am about it because I've missed a few (sorry, I'm sleepy these days-actually that's getting better)&lt;br /&gt;And So You Think You Can Dance? is starting tonight. I was in LOVE with this show last summer. Boy do I wish I could dance like those people...well, the good people (I can dance like some of the bad people...even better...HA!).&lt;br /&gt;Baby update: LONG STORY SHORT, I have had 2 ultrasounds in 5 days...the baby is fine and I am fine...am I do not intend to have an ultrasound every week so please cervix et. al. STOP BLEEDING AND SCARING THE BE-JESUS OUT OF ME! Baby is super cute and I even got to see it "swimming"...tried to peek at it's privates, but got nothing. I'll definitely keep you posted on the boy/girl status, but that won't be until late June (ugh, so far away!).&lt;br /&gt;Last thing...CUPCAKES! Yes, so seriously people I have lost 5 lbs in 5 days by having 1 cupcake a day. (it's probably just water weight I lost, but let's go with the cupcakes ok? that's more fun.) My friend Rach made some scrumdiddlyumptious cuppy cakes for her hubby's b-day and sent me home with some. They have become my bedtime snack =)&lt;br /&gt;Have faith people, in America, in summer TV, in your body and in CUPCAKES...you gotta have it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-7912740898572762240?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/7912740898572762240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=7912740898572762240' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7912740898572762240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7912740898572762240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/05/you-gotta-have-faith-faith-faith-ahhh.html' title='You Gotta Have Faith, Faith, Faith (ahhh)'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8514332847632708267</id><published>2008-05-08T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T13:10:23.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All you need is love, love...love is all you need.</title><content type='html'>Have you heard the story about the girls softball game where the girl hits a home run (ie over the fence) and then is injured and can't run past 1st base? Well, you should read about it. Ok, so I tried to find you a good link and I really just don't feel like looking anymore...This story is awesome. The girls from the other team, the other team!! carry the injured player around all of the bases, touching the foot of her uninjured leg to each base as they go by. I saw the video and burst into tears. When it was made evident that the girl was not going to be able to run, the coach asked the umpire if she could put in a sub. The ump said she could, but it would only be a single. Then this girl from the other team spoke up and said "What if we carry her around the bases?" Well, that worked. Her team couldn't do anything for her (due to the rules) but the opposing team could! AND DID! It caused the opposing team to lose, but they say the girl deserved it, she hit it over the fence. Poor girl, due to the injury, will not be able to play softball anymore...but got to live her dream of hitting a home run and making it all the way around the bases.&lt;br /&gt;I have to ask myself...would I think so unselfishly. I want to say "yes". I think my pre-highschool self would have said "yes". My mom likes to tell the story of my elementary school Halloween carnival when I entered the costume contest. Very proud of my costume (and now I can't remember what I was!!). My mom was helping out in a classroom with one of the games and says I came running back yelling "mommy mommy guess what?!" She said she felt sure I'd won...but nope. I was soo excited to tell her that two of my good friends had come in 1st and 2nd. I had won nothing. It didn't phase me. I'm afraid though, that as you grow older you become a bit jaded...I try not to be. I try to be happy and feel like "everything happens for a reason", but when it comes to me being so unselfish and actually helping someone else to win...do I do it? I don't know...I'm going to try and be more like my elementary school self and like those girls on the softball field that day. I hope I know how to instill that into my kids and hope that one day I hear "mommy mommy guess what..." and my child is happy for someone else who won, when they lost. What a love for other people, what an unselfish love. (I'm such a sap, I'm crying as I type this!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8514332847632708267?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8514332847632708267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8514332847632708267' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8514332847632708267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8514332847632708267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/05/all-you-need-is-love-lovelove-is-all.html' title='All you need is love, love...love is all you need.'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8873854684083172699</id><published>2008-04-30T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T15:40:22.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feed me Seymour!!</title><content type='html'>Have you ever wanted something so badly that you thought you, someone you love or someone you don't even know might perish in the process? If the answer is yes, then you have possibly been pregnant before or you're just crazy. So it goes like this...Food is  tricky lately. Even though I've been feeling a lot better the past 2 days, it's still hard to figure out what "sounds good" to eat. Lately, I don't cook because A#1 I am WAAY too tired to do that by the time I get home B#2 The thought of cooking grosses me out. Plus, I can only eat exactly when I'm hungry and exactly what sounds decent.&lt;br /&gt;So tonight...I left work 20minutes early because I HAD TO GET A TOTINO'S PIZZA AND I HAD TO HAVE IT THEN. I am not even kidding you. I have not had cravings that bad. This I think was an obsession. The moment I thought Totino's sounded like something edible, it quickly moved from "only edible" to "the only thing in the entire galaxy that sounds edible". I really thought that if someone tried to stand in my way I'd go all Butner Psycho style on them and then be sent to UNC for observation. I can talk about this now because the pizza is sitting safely in my belly and I've started cooking the brownies (hey, I didn't even have to crack an egg, it was the squeeze from the tube kind).&lt;br /&gt;OMG!! Only one pepperoni left, thank God because I really would have fought all 80's-gotta-have-that-cabbagepatchkid-style if anyone else had tried to get that pepperoni pizza!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mr and Mrs Totino,&lt;br /&gt;I have loved your pizza since college. In an effort to keep the pounds down I have in the past few years only eaten them as a treat. I could, you understand eat them everyday. They are that good and you two should have a Nobel Peace Prize for the amazing unique style of crust that you use for your delicious pizzas. I will say that I was almost brought to tears when your pepperoni pizzas were taken off the shelves for those looong months. &lt;br /&gt;Your pizzas are a huge part of our lives. My husband eats several weekly. Now that I am pregnant I allow myself to eat more of your heavenly pies. I must tell you that you have earned a purple heart in my book as you saved my ass today! I really think tears, blood or worse would have had a part in this story if I hadn't been able to get one of your pepperoni delights.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for partnering up for such a wonderful cause as the most tantalizing pizza known to man's freezer. You ROCK!&lt;br /&gt;Your biggest fan,&lt;br /&gt;ME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This my friends is a sad but true story. My oh so boring life has resulted in this. My brownies are beeping...remind me to tell you why I sat at my desk with a paperclip attached to my nose for at least 20minutes yesterday...again, true story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8873854684083172699?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8873854684083172699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8873854684083172699' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8873854684083172699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8873854684083172699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/feed-me-seymour.html' title='Feed me Seymour!!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4622043177129318101</id><published>2008-04-28T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T09:12:36.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honest to Blog!</title><content type='html'>I have been meaning to blog, really I have...I just didn't think you wanted to hear about how crappy and tired I've felt. How no food sounds good and I'm tired of laying around doing nothing, but too tired to do anything about it. How I don't cook for my husband anymore and he has resorted to fast food and doritos (but hey, he is a big boy and is capable of cooking). How my house is the dirtiest it has ever been and how there are more clothes on the floor than in the closet.&lt;br /&gt;But, on a far more interesting note (well, not really interesting, but not as "oh woe is me"...) I felt fabulous on Saturday and went to my cousins wedding reception. Honestly, she was the most beautiful bride I have ever seen. I know I'm partial because she's family, but seriously. The pics from the wedding at the beach are amazing! We ate, we danced and I was TIRED! &lt;br /&gt;Therefore, I spent the entire day on Sunday laying around. Truly, that is all I did. I took a shower in the attempt to go to church, but alas, J had to go it alone (and I was quite proud of him for going without me...he filled me in on the funny British man I missed). For the first half the day I layed around and napped in my towel. Yes, going upstairs for a t-shirt was too much trouble. I did finally put on a t-shirt, though I never brushed my hair or put on any make-up...quite the mess I was.&lt;br /&gt;We watched "Juno"...FINALLY!! I thought it was great, you go Ellen Page! Sooo cute. Jen Garner didn't have much of a part in my opinion and was almost lost in the movie, though that was probably because Ellen Page was soo awesome. (Jen also bored me a bit, but maybe her character was supposed to be boring, though it seemed like they wanted you to love her at times, which I did...I just think there was something missing). Good for you Justin Bateman to make a come back in such a good movie (though I don't know if I'd call it a "come back" what else have you done lately? maybe I'm just oblivious and he really had been around lately.) And little Michael Cera, I'm not sure if he can play other types of characters (b/c this guy was much like his character in Superbad, though a little more naive) but he's got cute geeky naive guy down pat. Can we be friends Ellen? I think she's in another movie coming out (supposedly she did it before Juno). I definitely want to see it. Go see Juno if you haven't...I reread my commentary to make sure I didn't give anything away, and I didn't. By the way, J is requesting that I yell "Thundercats are go!" Watch it, you'll see what I mean!&lt;br /&gt;We also rented "I Am Legend"...though about 10 minutes into the movie the power went out, thank goodness I'd already eaten an early dinner! So we lit candles and talked on the couch...it really wasn't as sweet or boring as it sounds, just kinda peaceful and us. I went to bed early. Yep that's my life.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be a goon and order some maternity stuff from Old Navy. I could be wrong, but all the sizes are S, M, L, XL and I figure I'm a medium. Plus it's warm here through November most of the time anyway, so the clothes should fit at some point! They are having a 50% off sale thru Thursday so I'mma go online shopping when I get home. And it's not just maternity, but everything! Who knows, I might even order something baby =)&lt;br /&gt;Oh how I wish I had something inspiring, uplifting, comical or interesting to say to you...but I don't. I'm lazy. But hey, at least I blogged...you had something to read!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4622043177129318101?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4622043177129318101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4622043177129318101' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4622043177129318101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4622043177129318101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/honest-to-blog.html' title='Honest to Blog!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-7066749161527187109</id><published>2008-04-15T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T13:14:34.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grease is the picture, from yummy pizza snacks</title><content type='html'>So my fatty Mc-fatterton butt needed some pizza snacks (seriously though they have kicked nausea's butt for the moment and I was hungry!) and I ate them...if I had my camera I'd take a picture of the grease stained paper towel they laid on...Oh well, you'll have to settle for the description.&lt;br /&gt;Here are all the things I spied in the grease spots left on my paper towel by the yummy pizza snacks (yes, I am ready to go home from work):&lt;br /&gt;jelly bean on a skateboard &lt;br /&gt;alfred hitchcock&lt;br /&gt;sunglasses&lt;br /&gt;a hotdog on a skewer flanked by marshmellows&lt;br /&gt;one of those ghosts from pac man&lt;br /&gt;a snail with ears&lt;br /&gt;a squirrel&lt;br /&gt;a dog &lt;br /&gt;a motorcycle&lt;br /&gt;Looky there, 2 posts in one day! Both fabulously entertaining I'm sure you will agree! Go eat some pizza snacks, they are waaaaaay better than grits!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-7066749161527187109?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/7066749161527187109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=7066749161527187109' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7066749161527187109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7066749161527187109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/grease-is-picture-from-yummy-pizza.html' title='Grease is the picture, from yummy pizza snacks'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8438539286766611678</id><published>2008-04-15T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T13:00:15.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Solo Rideyourbooty, the N Train, my favorite G-Males and the Phantom of the Operator</title><content type='html'>No...I haven't blogged in days...no good reason other than being tired, lazy, and nauseous, yadda yadda yadda poor pitiful me. So on to the unusual title of today's blog.&lt;br /&gt;    Today class we will discuss the meaning of names like "Solo Rideyourbooty". I am not joking, I seriously heard this over the intercom system at work. I told you we (ok maybe just me) hear some weird names (I did hear Rob Petrie again the other day-aka Dick Van Dyke's character on the Dick Van Dyke Show). I was walking down my cube aisle and even met up with a cubewallmate along the way and we both looked at each other with puzzled expressions. I died laughing and she had to know why...I said "It sounded like they paged for 'Solo Rideyourbooty'", she also died laughing and thus we were buried right there in the cube aisle-nah, she said "you're delirious and need to go home". I can't help what my ears hear people...it's only for your entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;    All aboard! Get on the N Train, that being the Nausea Train. I know, I asked for it. I said I was "worried" that I wasn't sick, I was "sure" something was wrong. Well, hello reassurance in the form of "ugh, nothing sounds good to eat, ugh, I only want to stay in bed in my pj's and not take a bath for days, ugh, that smell makes me want to up my chucks all over you". So, that's the train I'm riding these days folks...Wonder what train Solo Rideyourbooty rides on? &lt;br /&gt;    Favorite G-males ("gay males")-being around J &amp; R even if only for a few hours makes me miss them terribly and makes me sad that I don't have any fun g-males in my daily life. J (not my hubby Josh, different J), J and I go back all the way to kindergarten. We went ALL through school together, including undergrad. We even tied for 5th in our highschool graduating class and I was one of 2 girls at his first boy/girl birthday party waaaay back in the day. I love him and his man. Such fun and loving people. Plus how many of your friends squeal and kiss you on the cheek and give you hugs when you see them...and I got this even when they lived closer. I miss him terribly and am soo thankful for hanging out and talking for several hours last night like no time had passed at all. That's how you know you got a friend...you're comfortable together no matter how much time has passed and you lose track of time. &lt;br /&gt;    Last, but certainly not least, the Phantom of the Operator...I keep getting these 1 ring calls at work...every week I'd say I get one. One ring, so not enough time for me to answer. I know it's probably a wrong number, someone misdialed the extension. But hey, it's waay more interesting to feel like there is a Phantom..."inside my mind" =) (Plus I was quite proud "Phantom of the Operator"-hopefully you get that whether or not you are a geeky musical person like me)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8438539286766611678?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8438539286766611678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8438539286766611678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8438539286766611678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8438539286766611678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/solo-rideyourbooty-n-train-my-favorite.html' title='Solo Rideyourbooty, the N Train, my favorite G-Males and the Phantom of the Operator'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-8934380043983906289</id><published>2008-04-11T03:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T10:22:26.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Every hearbeat bears your name...</title><content type='html'>"...loud and clear they stake my claim. My red blood runs true blue, when every heartbeat belongs to you!" Ok, I really think I'm right on this one, pregnancy brain and all, that's Amy Grant. At least it's her voice I hear when I sing that song in my head and I was into her in middle school. &lt;br /&gt;Anywho, before I go any further I want to say this...My baby has a heartbeat of 147 bpm, is implanted safely in my uterus, where my cervix is closed tight to keep baby in and baby is exactly EXACTLY how old I said it was...my calculations were PERFECT (just like my lil' embryo) 6 and 4/7 weeks, and finally is a whopping 7mm (also my HCG is 28,000, where it should be). I have a picture and papers from UNC's ER to prove it!&lt;br /&gt;ER? EEEEEEEEERRRRRRR? You say? WHAT? Yes, ER. Well, I can be calm about it all now because of what I just told you about my perfect perfect baby (ok, let me go with the perfect for now, I had a hard day yesterday).&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to give you the readers digest version, but you know I can talk. Plus I was in the ER for 6 hours! (imagine that!)&lt;br /&gt;11:15 am I head to the potty at work...blood, red blood. I begin to shake and cry and go into shock and 5,900,765,234,180 thoughts ran through my head.&lt;br /&gt;11:16 am Tara and I are in route to the Dr.'s office (luckily I have good friends and she offered to drive...probably for the best) Josh was in class and I g'chatted him to tell him, in the middle of class, poor thing and he left to meet us.&lt;br /&gt;11:17 am Dr's office "we about to close for the day you'll have to call the triage nurse"&lt;br /&gt;11:18 am Triage nurse "well, why don't you wait and see if it stops because you're not having any pain". Me, "NO I WANT TO BE SEEN!" Her, "Oh, you want to be seen, ok, let me put you back to the receptionist to see when we can work you in".&lt;br /&gt;11:19 am Calling other offices because mine can't see me until 4:05 and that just won't do for me!&lt;br /&gt;To make this long story a little not as long...I end up in the ER because that was what another nurse suggested to me after I'd called about 5 places with no luck.&lt;br /&gt;UNC Hospitals...I'll have to tell you about all the interesting people at the ER later.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at 2 pm I'm undressed, in a lovely hospital gown with peeptoe black heels and there's my handsome baby daddy in his suit. Because he has a mock trial at 5pm and if you remember, I'm supposed to be the defendant.&lt;br /&gt;The cutest sweetest blonde girl came to see me and she was my doctor...I love you! She was exactly the kind of doctor I needed yesterday, understanding, calming, reassuring and gentle. &lt;br /&gt;I was sent up to ultrasound around 3. If you've never been wheeled through a hospital in nothing but your undies, a tacky hospital gown and your peeptoe shoes...I say it's a must! UGH!&lt;br /&gt;Ultrasound at 3:15...we see the corpus luetem (sp?) cyst, which explains the pressure on my left side (this nourishes baby in the beginning) with the "ring of fire" around it. We were told we saw the right ovary, though I didn't see a thang! Then she moved towards the uterus...I saw a spec! She moved and got a better picture and said "there's your baby" and then I saw some flashing and could hardly wait for it and then she said "and there's the heartbeat". OMG! The happiest day and scariest day of my life! Josh and I held hands and just cried. Perfect...measurements, dates, heartbeat, perfect!&lt;br /&gt;I still had to wait 30 minutes to be wheeled back downstairs to the ER and get a pelvic exam. And then wait several more hours for a private room for the exam so I didn't have to be behind just a curtain w/ other people around. Well...we ended up doing the exam behind the curtain. Cervix closed!&lt;br /&gt;No explanation for the red blood...and as long as things stay healthy, I don't even care. Yes, it was a little scary hearing that stats say 50% of the time blood ends in miscarriage and 50% of the time pregnancies go on just fine. I have to believe and do believe this baby is meant to be and my little heartbeat "will go on and on".&lt;br /&gt;Keep baby in your thoughts...Josh thinks it's a little girl just like me that needs immediate gratification...Like "hey mommy daddy look at me!! look at me now, don't wait 'til next week!!" (Because, just so you know, I found out a week earlier than most that I was pregnant, it was a Thursday...I saw the heartbeat a week earlier than I was scheduled to, it was a Thursday...and my due date is 11/28/2008 the Friday after Thanksgiving...um, yeah I'm betting baby shows up that Thursday just in time for Thanksgiving dinner =) )&lt;br /&gt;You know what Mother Goose Says:&lt;br /&gt;Monday's child is fair of face,&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday's child is full of grace,&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday's child is full of woe,&lt;br /&gt;Thursday's child has far to go.&lt;br /&gt;Friday's child is loving and giving,&lt;br /&gt;Saturday's child works hard for a living,&lt;br /&gt;But the child born on the Sabbath Day,&lt;br /&gt;Is fair and wise and good and gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-My baby's going places!! And just FYI, I'm a Sunday baby (eh hem, the best one!).&lt;br /&gt;PS-The nurse at my doctor's office was still calling this a "delayed menses". HEY LADY, I GOT THE PICTURE AND THEY EVEN TYPED "BABY" ON IT...A REAL LIFE HEARTBEATING BABY! KISS IT LADY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-8934380043983906289?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/8934380043983906289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=8934380043983906289' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8934380043983906289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/8934380043983906289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/every-hearbeat-bears-your-name.html' title='Every hearbeat bears your name...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6370663868452999900</id><published>2008-04-09T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T17:52:11.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'M SO ENTHUSIASTIC, I'M H-A-P-P-Y!</title><content type='html'>Ok, so Stacy said I had to post a "happy" blog. Let me say, I am happy...it's just hard for me to feel like it's real. Yes, I spend hours looking up nursery stuff and strollers, etc etc. But, the enthusiasm doesn't always show and I know this. I think next Friday will make things feel more real. I do go into the guest bedroom where Tigger (daddy's first gift to baby) and blankie (grandma's first gift to baby) have been placed. And I day dream about going in there in the middle of the night to feed and rock him/her. I think about how it'll smell in there and how soft and sweet he/she will be. I think about all the cute clothes and happy giggles. I think about going to the beach for baby's first time (and in that daydream I'm the skinniest and most fit I have ever been and people come up to me and say "you just had a baby?!"...hey, it's a dayDREAM.) I think about birthday parties and cupcakes I'll bake for school. Snacks and lunches I'll pack...homework I'll help with and dance recitals/sports events I'll go to  and be the loudest cheerleader there! I think about slip-n-slides in the backyard and trips to Disney World (where the entire family will wear Mickey Mouse ears...as long it looks cute with my hair). I think about hearing "mommy, I love you" and I think about bedtime stories and checking for monsters. And I think about the love. Now, there are those that would think I'm nuts, but I know most of you can understand...I LOVE MY DOG. We're pretty over the moon for him. We kiss him and hug him and take cuddly naps with him (I often wonder if he wasn't soo cute or soft if we'd love him this much...). He's the only "baby" we've known. We tuck him in at night (he prefers to sleep in his crate...he "gets" that it's bedtime when he's in there) and make sure he has a "friend" to sleep with. His stuffed animals have names and sometimes he's the cutest thing on the planet. I think about this love and I know that I will always love him...but I am about to know something different, a different kind of deep love. Different from what I feel for Josh, different from what I feel for my family and friends (even different from what I feel for JT-aka Justin Timberlake). And I'm happy. In the back of my mind I really believe this thing is meant to be, it's time and we're the chosen parents for this baby...yes I fret, but I think it's because I think that if I don't and I'm too confident that something might happen (though I truly don't believe the universe works that way).&lt;br /&gt;So just like the cheer that we did when I was 10 and cheering for Don's Music City (red and white uniforms) "I'm so enthusiastic, I'm H-A-P-P-Y!" I am. I'm just also still in a state of shock. So I will try, I will try to fret less and show the happiness more.&lt;br /&gt;PS-Wish me luck, Josh has a "mock trial" tomorrow that takes the place of his final. I'm the defendant and we're doing the trial in a real courthouse and everything! I'll have to be cross-examined...there will be objections and overrulings and everything! I must say I'm a bit nervous, but excited at the same time...because y'all, this could be my big break. I could be discovered as the next "it girl" actress...of course if they give me my own show in the next few months they'll have to hide my belly behind shopping bags and chairs and oversized coats. But they would do that for a talent like mine. I'll let you know how it goes (unless I'm convicted and carted off to jail...in which case Josh will contact you for bail money).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6370663868452999900?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6370663868452999900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6370663868452999900' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6370663868452999900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6370663868452999900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-so-enthusiastic-im-h-p-p-y.html' title='I&apos;M SO ENTHUSIASTIC, I&apos;M H-A-P-P-Y!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4477404424777177618</id><published>2008-04-07T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T17:45:18.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears or Fears</title><content type='html'>So yes...the fear goes on...the ultrasound is still 2 WEEKS AWAY PEOPLE! That is a long friggin' time!! I want someone to tell me that everything is fine, will be fine and will stay fine. You won't blow up into a hippo, you won't throw your guts up and you will be able to sleep like the 8lb baby Jesus. I want to know that the delivery will go wonderfully easy and safe. And, that the baby is alive and will stay alive and be perfect! So...which one of you is going to say that and have me love you forever (and not believe you all at the same time). Obviously I could go on and on about my fears. Instead, I'll tell you what's been bringing me to tears (other than fears):&lt;br /&gt;-The Cosby Show (Dr. Huxtable telling-crap what's her name, not Rudy, but the one older than Rudy...ugh my brain has stopped working! Anyway, telling one of his girls how hard it is to be a teenager)&lt;br /&gt;-People giving away money on Oprah's Big Gift (just the commercial, I didn't even watch the episode)&lt;br /&gt;-Not having french fries at my desk today, nor a car to get them&lt;br /&gt;-Seeing an unfortunate looking couple have a baby on TLC and immediately thinking they were the cutest people on Earth&lt;br /&gt;-when the mom and daughter on Little People Big World saw a whale&lt;br /&gt;-the preacher at church (I pretty much cried the whole service...all about trust)&lt;br /&gt;-reading the news article about the good luck charms soldiers carry with them&lt;br /&gt;-thinking about having my very own baby, mine mine mine mine mine&lt;br /&gt;There's probably more...but I can't think of it all right now. That's another thing, my brain isn't working well lately. I am extremely forgetful. Like I'll start to do something and before I can really do it, I'll forget what I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;Like now, I'm watching Little People Big World and I forgot I was blogging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4477404424777177618?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4477404424777177618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4477404424777177618' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4477404424777177618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4477404424777177618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/tears-or-fears.html' title='Tears or Fears'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4251422498125726246</id><published>2008-04-02T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T12:33:49.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmmm...</title><content type='html'>So, in an effort to post more than once a week. I'm posting tonight. Nothing exciting to report. Not even any weird names announced over the work intercom. The baby front is  boring on the outside (To the Grain of Rice...Mama knows you are very busy growing and working really hard even if I can't tell...I'm proud of you.) I'm not sick, yet. I did have a mildly embarrassing episode of diarrhea today at work (I made it to the bathroom, 4 people just happened to come in in the midst of the smelliness). Tired, very tired.&lt;br /&gt;See boring.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I don't want to bore you with the boring tales of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;So I went to Charleston this past weekend for my cousin's bachelorette party. It was fun, we wore funky colored wigs 'cause we were "wiggin' out". I highly recommend it. Even if it's for a birthday or a bachelorette party. Something about wearing a wig makes you feel different...plus you don't have to worry about your hair. We got loads of attention and since my wig was purple I got a few Jem and the Holograms shout outs. I did love that show. Perhaps I will dress as knocked up Jem for Halloween this year.&lt;br /&gt;Idol is on (see I'm boring I'm just rambling) and I really just think it's time for Kristi Lee Cook to head back home. She's not an American Idol. I'm not going to say mean things because I can't sing. I will say I thought it was going to be weird hearing all these people sing Dolly songs...don't get me wrong I loved me some Dolly and Kenny Rogers back in the day. And hey, I have been to Dollywood. But, I was concerned about everyone sounding hokey. To my surprise for most it went a lot better than I expected. Let's just be clear, it's going to (or should) come down to David Cook and Carly Smithson (I like Jason, Brooke and Michael...David Archuletta is awesome, but not for American Idol...he's not a pop singer. He's gifted, but not an Idol. Hey, we all have our opinions) and between the two I can't really say who I'd vote for. I really like both of them equally. David seems to pick awesome arrangements, but Carly is sooo likeable and has an accent I'd love to have. &lt;br /&gt;Ok well, this has been enough rambling about nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, last thing...That lie detector show, I've never watched an episode, but let me just say it can "Kiss my grits!" I think that's the most horrible thing ever on television. Again, just my opinion, even if it is right.&lt;br /&gt;OK, the last last thing, go read the article about Jenny McCarthy and her son's recovery from autism. Go into it with an open mind. I want to learn more (especially more about how to put the link to that article on here...basically I'm too lazy right now).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4251422498125726246?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4251422498125726246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4251422498125726246' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4251422498125726246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4251422498125726246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/04/hmmmm.html' title='Hmmmm...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4919515021625860743</id><published>2008-03-28T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T06:52:53.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's a super FREAK, super FREAK...she's super FREAK-AY (yow!)...</title><content type='html'>Because I'm going out of town this weekend and have not posted in a while...here's a list of various emails I sent this past week during PREGNANCY WEEK 5 FREAK MODE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday March 24th, Freakout ensues:&lt;br /&gt;my doc's office called and said they wanted to do another HCG test b/c the first one was so low...to be "sure", b/c that would just be really early. ok, freak out ensued...I mean, who has crazy sore boobs, a late period 2 positive urine tests and a positive blood test and is not pregnant? so...I had another blood draw yesterday afternoon...worst blood draw ever and I have a huge bruisey knot in the crook of my arm! ugh! According to the nurse..."everything is probably just fine and you probably are pregnant" but to ensure it they'd like to do another blood draw. Ok, so major freak out going on over here b/c I don't get the blood work back until tomorrow and we'll see if it's progessing (doubling) like it should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, March 25, Freakout in full swing:&lt;br /&gt;So they call today "98" (the level was 28 before) levels are supposed to double every 2 to 3 days...according to online calculators that puts me doubling every 2.2 days. so doc calls again...numbers "look good", but they want to make sure my numbers keep doubling since it's soo early ( i'm getting tired of hearing how early it is honestly b/c so what...i know my body...and my baby for that matter!) so I have to do another blood hcg test tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;ok, I know they say "it's fine...it's just people don't usually know this early"...but it still worries me. i guess I should look on the bright side and if the numbers keep looking good then things are going well and I can ease up on all the worrying I was already doing prior to this new development. I know most people don't get to know anything until that 8 week appointment and this would just be reassurance that things are going well (b/c if numbers aren't going up then there is a problem and that's the scary part of the first trimester).&lt;br /&gt;needless to say...I am for real pregnant...which I knew and am mad they scared me about...but I'm worried about these numbers...I'm trying to appreciate knowing this information and hearing a doctor say that even though "it's early" things are going as they should since "it's early".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, March 27th, Done Freaking...Just getting mad at the stupid stupid nurse:&lt;br /&gt;Anywho (clinic calls to give me updated HCG level= 242 PRAISE 8LB BABY JESUS)...the nurse called me back to say "those are good numbers, doing what they are supposed to...I'll show them to the doctor and see if he wants to see you a little earlier than your 8 week appointment for your delayed menses". Um what? "DELAYED MENSES" is that what they are calling pregnancy these days? Luckily...these numbers are making me feel good and I'm not worried...I'm just frustrated w/ these nurses not giving me a straight answer. I asked why she thought he might want to see me when she just said that everything looked fine, she was like "I'm not sure if he will, but he might since it's 'so early'". What kind of answer is that? Um yeah lady, everybody starts out EARLY, you don't just jump to month 9 here! Anywho...again, I'm not worried...I have a greater peace about this (God and I had a chat). I'm just frustrated w/ these people. If they want more blood or to look up my VaJayJay they are going to have to give me a better answer than "it's so early". Not that I'm opposed to going to the doctor, but I don't like things not being explained to me...and that's one thing I learned this summer was to advocate for the patient...so I am.&lt;br /&gt;Later on that day:&lt;br /&gt;Nurse calls back, "well, dr whatshisnuts says the numbers a great, you seem to be doing fine, just keep that 8 week appointment for the delayed menses"...I said, "Ok great, thanks". (What I really wanted to say: "LADY, THE APPOINTMENT IS FOR AN UUUULLLLTRRRAAASSSSOOOUUUNNNND! SAY IT WIIIIIITH MEEEE, PRRREGGGGNAAANT!") The next time someone says "oh you're pregnant" or "you're pregnant?!" I'mma say "well, we like to call it a 'delayed menses'". &lt;br /&gt;OB Nurse who's afraid to say the word pregnant probably b/c you're from my grandma's generation...KISS MY BABY'S GRITS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4919515021625860743?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4919515021625860743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4919515021625860743' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4919515021625860743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4919515021625860743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/03/shes-super-freak-super-freakshes-super.html' title='She&apos;s a super FREAK, super FREAK...she&apos;s super FREAK-AY (yow!)...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-7375645546610873161</id><published>2008-03-23T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T18:49:12.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Grain of Rice</title><content type='html'>So...I wasn't going to blog about this for a while...but, partially because I am beside myself with worry and a little afraid to be excited, I'm going to tell you.&lt;br /&gt;HIS BOYS CAN SWIM! IT WAS POSITIVE!!! (all code for I'M PREGNANT!)&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you are a reader of Stationary's blog...then you'll know her pee test story. Mine is pretty much identical. Here's the reader's digest version:&lt;br /&gt;Day 28 of cycle, still no spotting (yes, maybe TMI), usually there is spotting for days and then I start somewhere between day 28 and 31.&lt;br /&gt;Sore boobies. And, I just had a feeling, but I wasn't getting my hopes up.&lt;br /&gt;5:30 am, had to pee...test was very faint, but he and I both saw the line. Freaky, and I was still afraid to be excited. Called the doctor and the doctor said, no more monkeys jumping on the bed...wait, that was a different story...the doctor actually said "we don't do pregnancy tests". WHAT THE FREAK? FOR REALS?? YOU WON'T CONFIRM MY CRAZINESS, THAT IS INSANE YOU OB/GYN PEOPLE! So J convinced me to just go to the clinic at work. I called "Do you do pregnancy tests?" they said yes and that I could come right then...RUNNING AT FULL SPEED DOWN THE STAIRS B/C THE ELEVATOR WOULD BE WAAY TO SLOOOOOOOW, I made my way into the clinic. I was handed a little baggie (thank you God, it was opaque) with a pee cup in it. The nurse instructed me that the genuises that built the clinic (a man no less) didn't put a potty in it, so I'd have to go across the hall...pee in said cup...bring it back...and take my time (take my time my ass, I was peeing in that thing ASAP). DANG IT...people, in the bathroom (b/c of course there is no onesie! I just knew that the women in there could tell I was peeing in a cup for a pregnancy test...I peed and put the cup back in the bag and darted back across the hall (y'all...I'm not afraid to tell you, I didn't wash my hands, no time for that, plus then someone might see my cup-I washed later thankyouverymuch). Again, with the faint line...SHEEESH. Ok granted I really don't usually start 'til day 30 or so, so I don't know what I expected. From what I understand most people don't get an early response. Nurse: "We can do a blood draw to get HCG levels, but I would take this as a positive". Now, I'm not fan of blood drawing, but I was up on that table bare armed in point 5 seconds! She put "STAT" on my bloodwork, and honestly I hope that's the last time me or my baby needs something STAT unless it's ColdStone cake batter ice cream with a brownie mixed in. I sat very nervously until 12:45 when the results were in....the envelope please. YES! Although it said "weakly positive" and that I was about 1 week post implantation...supposedly the "weakly positive" was b/c it's so early but, it's been adding to my fears recently.&lt;br /&gt;So here goes...make me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had "pain" per se, but I have had a feeling on my lower left side. A feeling that has me fearing ectopic pregnancy. I'm trying to tell myself that it's just the left ovary that released the egg and the one with the cyst that develops in the beginning...but I still fear a problem.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had any bleeding and again no "pain". The best I can describe it is it feels like there is something sitting there on the lower left part of my abdomen, where I imagine my left ovary and fallopian tube is. It's not constant and it's not tender to the touch nor can I feel anything different on the outside.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just freaking myself out. Of course the tiny, miniscule (sp?) amount of brown tinge on the tp yesterday morning was freaky to (ok it was day 30 and I did read that  that is normal and even had a friend confirm it happened to her and it's fine, but I still fear it everytime I go potty).&lt;br /&gt;I read cramping was normal, I wouldn't say I've had that...Again, I'm just afraid to be fully into this and happy, which sucks because I've been wanting this, and do want it. However that makes it more scary I think.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, J came home with a baby Tigger rattle toy...softest thing I've touched EVER! My mom has already given me a blanket, mawmaw gave me a blanket and my aunt gave me 2 books. Sheesh people I just found out.&lt;br /&gt;So if you have any words of wisdom, I'll listen, but I'll probably continue to freak until the heartbeat appointment. I have promised myself and J that I'll stop looking up stuff online b/c one minute it'll make me feel better, then the next, it's freaking my freak.&lt;br /&gt;So, maybe I'll just freak on here rather than looking stuff up.&lt;br /&gt;Well...here's to hoping this is just the beginning of my dream coming true (dang, hormones are really kicking my butt b/c I am crying at my own sentence!!)&lt;br /&gt;OH, and "A Grain of Rice" refers to what J is affectionately calling the baby right now. The baby, wow, weird, surreal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-7375645546610873161?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/7375645546610873161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=7375645546610873161' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7375645546610873161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7375645546610873161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/03/grain-of-rice.html' title='A Grain of Rice'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-1390865781245014767</id><published>2008-03-18T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T16:53:50.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'mma tell you, like Wu told me...</title><content type='html'>Cash Rules Everything Around Me (C.R.E.A.M.) So, what I was going to blog about...Cash (not Jessica Alba's baby daddy) it's needed. Everyone needs it and is trying to get it. Even those who'll never need another penny in their lives is trying desperately too get more of the green stuff. Dolla' dolla' bill y'all.&lt;br /&gt;I always feel like I'm working for "that day"...the day I'll have it. I don't need millions, my dream is to be able to have a house, with a yard (yes, I'd like a nice kitchen and master bath just like everyone else), a good car, my health and the health of my loved ones, kids, vacations, be able to go to the grocery store without worrying about how much I spend, buy that shirt at Target just because, have friends over for dinner or a cookout and not need them to bring anything...none of that was in any particular order, but the thing is that's what I'm working for. Everyday, it's what I work for.&lt;br /&gt;And the other day I was thinking...why do we do that (I assume I'm not the only person in the world that does that), why do we work for tomorrow? I mean, yes, it's good to plan and be smart. But why aren't we living for today. If you are, I salute you, I want your secret. I want to be able to enjoy today, the people around me, the things I am able to do, the things I do have right now.&lt;br /&gt;I know, that despite living paycheck to paycheck and student loan to student loan, I have a lot. A lot more than what some people have. Which is what makes me feel awful that I sometimes forget to appreciate that and think "I'll be so glad when Josh is out of law school, but I still worry that we won't be much better off than we are now because of all the school debt we'll have."&lt;br /&gt;Let's face it, I'm never gonna be the bread winner again. Working where I do I have basically started over and I'll just say it, I feel like a loser. I don't have to have money to make feel like I'm worth something, but in society I don't look like much. At least when I was teaching everyone gave you the "aww, that's so great you're a teacher...that's soo hard." You were admired. It didn't make it quite as bad that you got paid crap because everyone knows "teachers don't get paid what they deserve". Then I moved on to Child Life and it was "aww, working with kids in the hospital, that takes a special person". Even back in the day working at the group home it was the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's hard from going from those admirable rewarding jobs to something where people have no idea what you do and your pay rate is the lowest on the totem pole. Makes you feel like a loser to have your master's, plus all this work experience and be grouped with people that have less education and experience (please don't read that as I am calling those people losers, that is not my intent at all...none of my grandparents had much beyond an 8th grade education and I think they are the most intelligent people I know-even if not by societal terms) makes you feel like "what the heck did I do all that for".&lt;br /&gt;I will say, I would never trade all my work experience for anything. I envy those people that went to college and got a job in exactly what they majored in, are making lots more money than me and are happy, in love even, with their jobs. I know that I have one up on them...I've done a lot of things. Had a lot of experiences, learned a lot. I know that about myself. I'm a lifelong learner...I have no desire to jump from job to job to job, but I truly do enjoy learning things. The job I'm doing now utilizes the analytical side of my brain, a strong suit of mine (I don't dare say I'm a smarty pants by any means...but I'd like to think I'm a decently intelligent person and a hard worker) and I like using that part of my brain.&lt;br /&gt;I make excuses for myself and say "I needed a break from working with kids, I've done it for the past 10 years"...though I believe that to be true...I truly believe my dream job is to be a mom (I used to think it was to be Cinderella at Disney World...however, I believe that a good mom is a Cinderella when needed).&lt;br /&gt;I guess truly what I feel is that something is missing, I know what I think it is...I guess I have to wait and see what He fills that spot with. In the meantime, I have to try and not let today bypass me. I have to live in the here and now. Though it's ok to dream about tomorrow and "one day" I know I'll get more enjoyment if I live for today. "You can't take it with you", so I don't need a pile of money to sit in the bank "gathering interest" in case I need it one day (not that it's a bad thing-those of you with savings don't hate me) I need to live within reason today because tomorrow it might all be gone.&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll keep doing my job that no one understands, trying not to feel like the biggest loser on the planet, knowing that life really is good and that when "one day" comes I'll have had a good life in the meantime.&lt;br /&gt;And to Cash I say "kiss my grits"! (but I won't turn you down if you coming knockin' at my door, okthanks!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-1390865781245014767?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/1390865781245014767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=1390865781245014767' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1390865781245014767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1390865781245014767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/03/imma-tell-you-like-wu-told-me.html' title='I&apos;mma tell you, like Wu told me...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-7848707948335536063</id><published>2008-03-13T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T11:19:14.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In the words of Wilson Phillips "Hold on for one more day..." (or 4 days)</title><content type='html'>Ok so, I do have stuff to blog about, but this week has been really busy, seriously. I can't go into all the boring details...(I'm at work...shhhhh). I'm headin' out to holla at my girl in Chi-town (and her boy) and will return with all the tales of debauchery on Monday, better make that Tuesday because we don't get back until midnight on Monday. (boy this thing types better at work, I don't know why when I use my 'puter at home on this blog it types funny...sorry for the random thought.)&lt;br /&gt;Just remind me that when I blog next I also have to "tell you what Wu told me" about C.R.E.A.M. (not that kind people, not that kind of cream...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-7848707948335536063?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/7848707948335536063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=7848707948335536063' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7848707948335536063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/7848707948335536063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/03/in-words-of-wilson-phillips-hold-on-for.html' title='In the words of Wilson Phillips &quot;Hold on for one more day...&quot; (or 4 days)'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-5502764179274730703</id><published>2008-03-10T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T17:37:19.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So worth 20 cents!</title><content type='html'>So a few Saturdays ago I discovered the vending machine at work had frosted blueberry pop tarts. Since I was at work on Saturday, I had myself a breakfast of 7 year olds. That's right, OJ and Pop Tarts. Sorta makes me mad that Brit Brit and Linds are referred to by that name...the name of warm frosty pastry 'liciousness.&lt;br /&gt;Then this past Friday, I treated myself to some goodness again. Dollar in hand, I headed to the vending machine...DOH! My stupid dollar won't go in...AND I HAD NO CHANGE. Ok, now I really wanted that tart more than eva!&lt;br /&gt;Luckily the cafeteria downstairs sells them. So I bebopped myself on down there. YES! The very same Pop Tarts...Frosted Blueberry. I go to pay...I had to give her my whole dollar! They are only 80 cents in the vending machine...dang, no change to add to my empty work change stash for emergency snacks and drinks. To make matters worse, the toaster ate some of my Pop Tart and I had to perform emergency surgery to get it out. What a way to start off the morning (I know, woe is me...poor Breezy and her Pop Tart catastrophe, but still...it was a rainy Friday.)&lt;br /&gt;I walk to the elevator, heated smelly goodness in hand. And what to my wandering eyes should appear, but...A HOT GUY IN A SUIT! People, there are no HAWT guys at my work! So he held the elevator for me and we began our ascent to...the same floor! Then, he spoke...&lt;br /&gt;HOTTIE-Man, those smell good.&lt;br /&gt;BREEZY- Yeah, I had some the other weekend here and it took me back to childhood. So I figured it was a rainy Friday and I deserved Pop Tarts again.&lt;br /&gt;HOTTIE- You definitely deserve it (door opens) After you...&lt;br /&gt;BREEZY- Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;HOTTIE- You have a good day.&lt;br /&gt;BREEZY- Thanks, you too.&lt;br /&gt;So worth the 20 cents! (Until I realized today, when yes, I succumbed to the Pop Tart temptation again...THEY ARE CRAZY BAD FOR YOU...9 WEIGHT WATCHER POINTS! I could have had chicken mini's from Chick-fil-a!!! I'm not allowed to have them anymore...I've got to stick to the points for a while, the pants are TIGHT!)&lt;br /&gt;So Frosted Blueberry goodness, you can KISS MY GRITS (b/c that is what I should be eating, plain grits, not even cheesy ones...it's ok Pop Tarts...I still secretly love you, but don't tell my love handles!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-5502764179274730703?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/5502764179274730703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=5502764179274730703' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5502764179274730703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/5502764179274730703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-worth-20-cents.html' title='So worth 20 cents!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6802164969493594558</id><published>2008-03-04T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T17:27:00.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The FREAKS come out...after lunch apparently.</title><content type='html'>I know, I know…I’ve turned into one of you! You people that take too freakin’ long to update your blog. Well, why I don’t have a good reason for leaving my millions, eh-hem many…ok, my readers in a lurch, I’m back. Before I get to the point of the title for this blog let me fill you in on the past week…&lt;br /&gt;Birthday, work, work, work, work, went to work on Saturday-program was down so I left, walk with Rach and Sam, shopping for a new shirt so I don’t look like a loser out on the town, drinks &amp;amp; dancing with some great gals, laziness, work, Sushi dinner with Dad, work…Yep that sums it up, exciting isn’t it? I don’t know why MTV hasn’t contacted me for a reality show of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the freaks:&lt;br /&gt;First let me say, that all of this occurred after “lunchtime”. I decided to eat my lunch late today and try the “eat a few small snacks throughout the day” to help with hunger/boredom/weight loss.  If I get to see interesting things like this everyday I will keep it up!&lt;br /&gt;Freak 1- Upon sitting myself down for an afternoon potty break, I peered down and noticed the feet of someone next to me. Hmm, cute black flats, but what the? HOT PINK TIGHTS! Now if you know me, which I know the 3 of you do, you know I love me some pink. But get real! HOT PINK TIGHTS AT WORK? I mean, we’re not working at Mode Magazine here Betty.  I did contemplate waiting her out, to see just what ensemble required HOT PINK TIGHTS. But, I was very worried that I might laugh out loud. So I began to imagine…did she look like this (well crap I can't use this pic b/c of stupid "stealing bandwidth" rules...imagine the tights, the shoes and jean short-alls, white and black short sleeved shirt, with a pink and white belt...Do you see it? I knew that you could!&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Brianne/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-6.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Brianne/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-5.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps...(again with the rules! so now picture gray t-shirt dress with a large silver belt and short jean jacket...picture it, I'll wait...)&lt;br /&gt;We shall never know. Next time, I promise I will wait her out…it’s been killing me all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freak 2- Went back to the kitchen to get my lunch out of the microwave and there was a guy standing at the other microwave waiting on his lunch…or should I say rocking. Yes people, he was standing there rocking his body back and forth. Add to that he was holding a paper towel, make that meticulously twisting a paper towel. I was trying not to stare, it was kinda freakin’ me out…not because people with ‘differences’ scare me (again if you know me you know I’ve worked with and love ALL KINDS), but I have to assume that he was not developmentally disabled. Now I’ll admit, I’m guilty of weirdness…but I usually try to save it for the confines of my own home and show it only to my husband who has to love me anyway (our vows said so “better or weird, richer or poorer and weirder…” if you paid attention she really said that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, my afternoon lunchscapade was in-terra-sant! I’ll keep you posted on more Freak sightings at work. I tell ya, I can’t make this stuff up people. Weird stuff does happen. Oh, wait I never told you about the weird names that are called over the intercom:&lt;br /&gt;Paper Buffalo - yes T heard it too, they said it. T and I have taken to calling the little old man that delivers mail the “Paper Buffalo” (he’s kind of a freak too b/c his desk is covered with wolf pictures and statues)&lt;br /&gt;Rob Petrie- Ok, so you wouldn’t have noticed that one b/c you didn’t watch Nick at Nite and see the old episodes of the Dick Van Dyke Show…sorry you’re not as cultured as me.&lt;br /&gt;Anya Nipples- I kid you not! They called twice and both times I stopped what I was doing to listen. I mean, why were other people not laughing?! There can’t really be an Anya Nipples at work can there? I had to hold my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok…so proof that cubeland isn’t always as boring at it may seem. I might have to find myself some HOT PINK TIGHTS and all you haters can “KISS MY GRITS”!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6802164969493594558?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6802164969493594558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6802164969493594558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6802164969493594558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6802164969493594558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/03/freaks-come-outafter-lunch-apparently.html' title='The FREAKS come out...after lunch apparently.'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-6569320016505380368</id><published>2008-02-26T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T17:19:46.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're hawt!</title><content type='html'>OMG! Is anyone loving how hawt Jason Castro on AI is??? I'm not usu. a fan of the dreads, but homeboy has got amazing eyes/lashes and PERFECT TEETH! Wow! And now this Luke guy...what did they do, find the hawtest guys out there? I think it's TV magic...he looks sorta like my Justin (as in Timberlake)...Did they whiten all these peeps teeth or something? Who knew I could lust after people for their linear pearls? I mean, singing hot guys are always a turn on (example: Clef Hangers...oh how I'd love to hear them again, I know it wouldn't be the same people, but still)...Ok this is very rambly but I'm watching as I type. The singing tonight isn't fab, but the boys are SMOKIN'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-6569320016505380368?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/6569320016505380368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=6569320016505380368' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6569320016505380368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/6569320016505380368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/02/youre-hawt.html' title='You&apos;re hawt!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-77552769869438942</id><published>2008-02-26T16:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T16:43:33.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You say it's your birthday (dun duh duh duh dun) it's my birthday too!</title><content type='html'>Ok well, birthday was yesterday...so I'm posting about it today. It was a great birthday! Went to lunch with the girls from work (though I know some of my readers believe my lunch choice was lame...I loved it!) to Panera, then for some Gellato. Which this Gellato place was owned by this older kinda creepy man. You know the kind, talks too much and asks too many questions, he thinks he's funny, but he's not. Anywhoinwhoville, this place had the most beautiful Gellato of "over 100 flavors, made here daily and at least 28 flavors are featured each day". And they had 4 flat screen TVs, 2 of them were the menus, the other 2 were for...well, I don't know, maybe the invisible people sitting at the 3 tables in this teeny place. We were the only people in there, so I tried to pull some Breezy charm and said "so what's your birthday special?" He said he didn't have one but he'd think about starting one. DANG! That was not the return rate I expected! Perhaps had I done the "bend and snap" it would have proved more successful. The Gellato was good and still free since one of the girls paid for me...how sweet.&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the day I got many emails, text messages, and phone calls. I even got a birthday poem! It sure is awesome that I have so many people that love me...seriously. I mean, people love me...went out of their way to call/email/send card/message...some people even contacted me in more than one way. I love you!&lt;br /&gt;Then (enough of that sappiness) I came home where my sweet sweet hubby had baked me a cake. Ok y'all...he doesn't cook let alone bake. Not to mention he hates all desserts! He even went out of his way to see how he could make the cake low fat (used egg beaters and applesauce in lieu of real eggs and oil) LOVE HIM! He had a card for me, with some poetic words (he doesn't always do cards...) AND he went to pick up Moe's for me. I know I know, not a 4 star restaurant, but it was what I wanted! Plus, we got mine for free! I won't tell you how, let's just say we got it legit...no theifery ensued, but I can't be givin' away all me secrets! We spent a lazy evening cuddled on the couch watching a movie "Amazing Grace"...good movie. He even laid off the studying for one night, just for me!&lt;br /&gt;So, I love my friends and my hubby...here's to a fabulous 29!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS-We got the detailed results for "the boys" today...and guess what, J is on the upper end of normal in every area... THE UPPER END...again, Fertell-KISS MY GRITS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-77552769869438942?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/77552769869438942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=77552769869438942' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/77552769869438942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/77552769869438942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-say-its-your-birthday-dun-duh-duh.html' title='You say it&apos;s your birthday (dun duh duh duh dun) it&apos;s my birthday too!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-9158239802187296860</id><published>2008-02-22T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T14:24:55.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Hear it for the Boy(s)!</title><content type='html'>YAY YIPPEE WAAAHOOO! The boys are "GOOD" "GOOD AND NORMAL"! I'll be honest, I really thought there was going to be a problem, but then, today...I had a sense of calmness and peace.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'll explain...because I'm sure most of you (ok, I know there are only a few of you, but...) are like "wah?"&lt;br /&gt;Go back with me in my time machine to a month ago...(lots of smoke and shaking after I push some buttons in the DeLorean)&lt;br /&gt;Me: J I found out that there is now a male fertility test.&lt;br /&gt;Him: Really? Well, maybe we should do one.&lt;br /&gt;Me: It's like $75 though.&lt;br /&gt;Him: Well if it would make us feel better then let's do it.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (dang, I would've have thrown in new shoes if I'd known it would be that easy! Shoes always make me feel better.)&lt;br /&gt;So I travel home that day, in the middle of the day, from work...why? No, not because I couldn't wait to pick up the $75 test, that we would later find out looked like a cheap plastic Barbie hot tub. I go home because as of the past few months my "stuff time", as J likes to call it, has been making me feel like a 7th grader all over again. I HAD TO GO HOME AND CHANGE PANTS! Can you even believe it?! Let me tell you, this was the 2nd month this had happened to me. I went through 3 tampons by 10am!!!!! (Sorry for the graphic details, but sheesh!)&lt;br /&gt;So, I stopped by the drugstore to pick up some pantyliners, obviously needed, and the test.&lt;br /&gt;We (just he actually) took the test that night. 90minutes, or something like that, later...no line. Meaning, at the very least, not enough motile spermies were detected. In my mind, it might as well have shouted "NOPE, NADA, ZERO, ZILCH". I seriously was the saddest I'd been in a really long time. I've been through some sad times, people close to me dying...this felt like a death. I truly felt that we would never have children.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, enough of that "pitiful me" party. I got myself together after a few days. J set up some boy doctor appointments (he had been having some urinary issues anyway, so we wanted to make sure they weren't affecting "the boys").&lt;br /&gt;Fast Forward just a bit...&lt;br /&gt;Went to regular doc...everything looks good...blood is fine.&lt;br /&gt;Urologist...everything looks good, don't think you need a semen analysis, but ok if you want one...blood tests, weeeeeeeeeeeeeell...testosterone is within normal range, but on the low end, want to do more tests, and yes do the semen test immediately-J &amp;amp; B freak! HOLD UP...had more blood tests at regular doctor already, "ok"...previous blood testosterone test shows even higher level...J &amp;amp; B are happier, J still wants the "analysis".&lt;br /&gt;Fast Foward to today...&lt;br /&gt;Him: I'm off to do my business in public.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (lifting up my shirt for a sneak peak) good luck!&lt;br /&gt;goes, comes back, naps, phone wakes us up...ugh...&lt;br /&gt;Him: that was the doctor's office&lt;br /&gt;Me: AND!&lt;br /&gt;Him: They're "Good" "Good and Normal"&lt;br /&gt;Me: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew, what a load off (and literally too...he had to go 5 days with nothing to prepare/store up for this test). Hope you don't mind all the personal details...I just feel soo much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fertell test you can KISS MY GRITS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-9158239802187296860?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/9158239802187296860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=9158239802187296860' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/9158239802187296860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/9158239802187296860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/02/lets-hear-it-for-boys.html' title='Let&apos;s Hear it for the Boy(s)!'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-1946288295709843750</id><published>2008-02-21T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T17:20:57.131-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confucius say:</title><content type='html'>"This current year will bring you much happiness."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silly, I didn't actually Ouija (yes, that's spelled right b/c I looked it up...that's "wee-gee" for those of you who didn't attend teeny-bopper girl slumber parties) up Confucius, that's what my fortune cookie said on Sunday. Now, honestly if I wasn't being greedy, I would say that I already had much happiness. Despite many poor pitiful me things I could complain about...I have a great hubby, amazing doggie, the world's best friends, parents that love me...yadda yadda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER! Since Confucius say this, then I'll go ahead and make known the few things I could think of that would add "much happiness" to my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In no particular order...)&lt;br /&gt;-Britney's old body (think her body circa "Slave for You")&lt;br /&gt;-A winning lottery ticket&lt;br /&gt;-Conception, healthy pregnancy, perfect baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...I think that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breezy say...Idol is on, blog is done.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there will be more blogging later, or not...Kiss my grits!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-1946288295709843750?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/1946288295709843750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=1946288295709843750' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1946288295709843750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/1946288295709843750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/02/confucius-say.html' title='Confucius say:'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-3823404661069206595</id><published>2008-02-19T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T18:32:59.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The hills are alive...with the sound of...</title><content type='html'>(Well right now that Noreaga kid on American Idol...I mean, Daniel son can really sing.)&lt;br /&gt;GRUNTING! Yes, the hills, as in the ones I climbed during my mountain bike trek. Ok, so I wasn't in the mountains and the bike wasn't actually moving...but, hey, don't judge me. Praise me for actually going to the gym. Especially since I've gained at least 3lbs over the past two months. I know, it's not as if 3lbs is gonna warrant the lap-band. But, I have to get control over it now before I really grow out of all my clothes. I don't have money for that. I blame the Clomid for the weight gain, when really I should probably just blame myself for the pan of brownies, lasagna, pizza, Hershey's Kisses, etc...you get the picture. It's probably all those things, because I convinced myself that I would be "with child" soon enough, so I might as well get a jump on the weight gain (because eating is fun!). Ah well, 3lbs later and no pink line on the stick, I need to get my butt in the gym. I mean, when I do get knocked up I wanna look like a hot mama (let me dream ok!).&lt;br /&gt;OH, back to the grunting...at the gym. That bothers me. Must the sweaty man behind me really grunt soo loudly that I can hear him over Ina Garten cooking the most delectable cake I have ever laid eyes on. I mean, it totally ruined me enjoying food via TV osmosis. Which really is the way to go if you ask me. Sure you don't get the flavor, the smell, the textures...but what you avoid are all the guilty calories. Yes, so I work out to cooking shows. I do especially well, I have found, when I'm sweatin' to the tune of a delicious dessert cooking. The only problem is, I really do start to crave them.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the grunting. I have been in the gym with this man before. He runs on the treadmill until his shirt appears to be tie-dyed from the sweat he emits within .5 seconds from beginning his run. I mean, I don't want to begrudge the man his health...but honestly I worry about his health. If it's hurting that hard, shouldn't you stop? Work your way up, man and chill with the extra loud grunting. I have a cake baking for goodness sake!&lt;br /&gt;One more thing before I end this pogo stick of thought I have going here. Another comment on grunting. When you are at work or any public place for that matter save your grunting poops for your own toilet. Seriously. If you have to grunt in public to shake that baby free, the kids might not be ready for the pool...perhaps the brown's need a little more time in the locker room before they make their debut at the super bowl. I admit, from time to time one needs to "drop one" at work. In fact, if I had the urge, I'd do it everyday b/c God knows I'd die for a regular colon. However, I don't grunt in public. I let others pee in silence. In fact, I will play musical bathrooms until I am the only one in there b/c I find it unfulfilling to do my "plops" during the flushes of other patrons, it's too stressful.&lt;br /&gt;There, I said it...extra 3lbs and people who grunt in public...you gross me out, Kiss My Grits.&lt;br /&gt;(Yeah, it might be my thang to end my posts with that, but don't count on it. I'll get bored with it, but probably not before you are.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-3823404661069206595?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/3823404661069206595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=3823404661069206595' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3823404661069206595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/3823404661069206595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/02/hills-are-alivewith-sound-of.html' title='The hills are alive...with the sound of...'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307721095099206573.post-4556135187055550555</id><published>2008-02-18T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T18:48:50.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah...so you're not losing and I'm not either...yet.</title><content type='html'>Well, my very first blog is followed up by very first blog take two and blog number 3. Oops! I posted the same friggin' thing twice! I'll tell you why, I misspelled "gripe". If you look closely, I put "grip" the first time. I probably used lots of bad grammar and punctuation skills (I'm still not sure why they let me teach for 4 years...poor kids). So just get used to it, or you'll have lots of duplicate blogs of me correcting my mistakes. Take me as I am, mistakes and all. Or "Kiss my grits"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5307721095099206573-4556135187055550555?l=kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/feeds/4556135187055550555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5307721095099206573&amp;postID=4556135187055550555' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4556135187055550555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5307721095099206573/posts/default/4556135187055550555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kissmycheesygrits.blogspot.com/2008/02/yeahso-youre-not-losing-and-im-not.html' title='Yeah...so you&apos;re not losing and I&apos;m not either...yet.'/><author><name>Breezy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14253296308936137481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q8vxh3iM0Kk/SUQ3JP917qI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0RUgleB3MR8/S220/justnoses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
