First of all, he didn't work this hard as a JO. I thought the whole point of being a department head was so that you DIDN'T have duty all the time? Maybe my recollection is a little skewed (is that a word? I've heard people say it, but it shouldn't look like that) because back then I had a full time JOB that I loved and friends nearby and a Target around the corner and only one or two babies, but I seriously don't remember him working like this. And I DEFINITELY remember thinking "No fair, those department head losers NEVER have duty!" That memory isn't skewed one bit. So what gives? Does this boat just suck that bad? Melissa, is this what it was like on the MSP? Is it bad management? Bad luck? Bad karma for all those years of having it easy? Hmmm...
Secondly, am I the only mom who watches Max and Ruby for hours on end? The same episodes, over and over and over? Yes, my children do watch more tv than I ever wanted them to, but I'm just thankful it's not Sponge Bob or The Sopranos. But seriously, back to Max and Ruby. Great stories (for babies) about learning to share and deal with pesky little brothers (how perfect!) but where are Max and Ruby's parents?!?! Are they dead? Do they have a guardian? Ruby is always taking care of Max all alone, and she's a Girl Scout, so certainly she isn't old enough to be a full time legal guardian. Maybe they would be better off with the Sopranos...
Third: How awesome that two days after I bitch about not being able to find matching headers and backgrounds, my fave site for all things blog bling updates their goodies? It's the little things ya'll.
Fourth: I haven't worked out (or stepped on a scale) since before we left Connecticut. On Feb 4. I caught sight of my rear today in a mirror (my closet has mirror doors! GROSS!!!) and I thought that the fan we leave running 24/7 had billowed my dress out a little bit, know what I mean? So I smoothed it down. It wasn't billowed out. My sixth grade teacher had a rear end that I'll never forget as long as I live. I always wondered how she ended up like that. Now I know. It's hard to get motivated because I'd like to get going with the last kiddo, so I feel like "why work out (or skip that last half of Scott's birthday cake) if I'm just gonna get huge anyway?" And somehow, telling myself that if I start the pregnancy in shape, I won't gain sixty pounds- just not cutting it. I worked out five days a week with Warren, well into my thirty sixth week, including weights. And I gained sixty pounds. Didn't do a damn thing with Scott- same sixty pounds. And like I've said before, I plan on getting a tummy tuck after I'm done anyway, so why not tack some rear end and upper thigh lipo on the bill? Ugh. (And no mom, I'm not pregnant yet. I wouldn't tell you like this. Especially after Arika stole my thunder last time!)
Fifth: I gotta get some pics so you'll see the huge scope of this problem, but we have a mango tree in our backyard and mangos fall from the sky all day. And all night. The ones that don't land on the tin roof of the shop with a loud, frightening BUMDUMBUMBUM hit the ground where they split open and start to rot. We're talking complete ground cover here. On a daily basis. I picked them up last week and got SEVEN trashbags full. Nick picked them up three days later and got two. And today, two days after Nick did it, the ground is once again covered, at least another three bags. Do mangos have a season? How can they, when there are no seasons here? Am I doomed to be picking up mangos for the next three years? Double UGH.
Sixth: Seriously, does the boat not have a phone? What if there's a fire? I've given up on getting a call. Time to go watch Max and Ruby.
Umm, I mean, time to go watch something cool. Not a preschool cartoon. Cool. Because I'm awesome.