hello, poor neglected blog.....

I'm sorry to say, I've found a new mistress, in the form of Twitter.com.

I'm Bugnbuddysmom on twitter. I don't tweet much, that is SuperG's time sink. But I did get tweeted by Ohio's former Secretary of State Ken Blackwell who is now running to be the RNC chairman. Woot! Brush with greatness, ping!

At any rate, I'd like to introduce you to our newest addition:




Say "Hi" to Blobby, who has grown so much since the initial ultrasound told me I had a blob with a heartbeat lo these many weeks ago.

I'm almost 13 weeks along, am starting to feel a bit better, I go whole days without puking now, which is great. I crave Thai food all the time, but haven't been able to get any lately.

We are almost ready for Christmas, I feel so blessed that this year we are able to give our children gifts and food for the table, when so many people, including those that I know, are feeling the economic pinch and having to choose between the two.

I'm sure I won't get online to post again, so have a merry Christmas and count your blessings this year, we certainly are!

The AutoMaker Bailout

hmmmmm I just don't know where I stand on this.

Having worked for a subsidiary of one of the Big Three, Ford Credit, in the 90's, I saw first hand the waste, and the largess that a powerful union has on a company. I didn't pay anything for my monthly benefits, actually got some money back. Had 5 weeks paid vacation each year, 3 weeks of 100% paid sick days. I had a $550 yearly out of pocket maximum on my medical insurance, which was the type where you could go anywhere, to any Dr without any referrals or participating providers, anything.

I paid $5 each month for fertility drug prescriptions that ran $5000 to $7000 for those who had to pay out of pocket for them.

No wonder Fords were so expensive to buy. Oh wait, no they weren't, not for me and the majority of my family members.

And we wonder now why they're going broke. Or they've gone broke. When the union strangles your company and requires that you give that kind of a benefit package to your NON-UNION employees, it just can't be sustained forever. The rumors of the wages for the autoworkers were probably inflated, but not by much.

So, on one hand, maybe Detroit needs to tough it out and if one or two or three of them go belly up, so be it.

But on the other hand, I've got two aging yet paid for GM vehicles in my driveway. I fear the scarcity of parts will force us to one day buy a Honda, which is made about 30 miles away from my home. Hmmm, would I still be buying American at that point?

Sick as the dogs I've nearly killed

Them dawgs and their food theivin' ways is gonna git 'em kilt but good.

Twice in as many days the dogs have been literally throttled by me. I just see red and then I'm off the hook. The hormones suck.

Been so absolutely dead tired and sick lately, today I stayed in bed until nearly 4pm. My son was sweet enough to hang out with me and force me to endure hours of the darkest days of animation in the 20th century.

Yes, my friends, I am talking about the Chuck Jones era. Due to my son's current obsession with Tom and Jerry, I am subjected to this abomination almost daily. I don't know who this talentless hack thought he was, but he could have just committed this thoughtless acts of terrorism on a smaller scale, like poisoning a municipal water supply, or killing all the infant boys in the land, you know, something that we could easily get over. But no, he puts out the crappy animation for a generation to endure. He's probably dead by now, but if not, he should kick off soon, in a most painful way.

Think I'll go steal candy from orphans and kick some old ladies. Then scuttle back to bed.

How does that nutjob in Arkansas survive all those pregnancies? She's got to have some brain stem missing or something, 17 kids and counting, what a nutjob. But perhaps since she's been lactating and/or gestating for 25 years or so, the hormonal flux must pretty much not happen anymore. Freak.

And the hormones kick in

Can I just say right now that I usually enjoy being pregnant. It's thrilling and exciting, especially after the baby starts to make itself known in nice ways, like kicks to the spleen and whatnot.

This time around, however, is different.

I'd have liked to regained my health to a greater degree. And gotten down to my goal weight, although I was close. But those weren't the cards I was dealt.

So far, the baby seems fine. We have an ultrasound on the 18th to go along with bloodwork I had drawn recently which will give us an idea if the baby is at risk for any genetic abnormalities. As if I didn't have enough to obsess over.

The baby has a fine heartbeat, arms and legs and all that jazz. It also is pumping out the hormones from hell. I'm mean as a snake most days now, anyone who irritates me may just end up getting a rather nasty earful of whut-fer.

Then there is the whole Passion of the Christ thing. Whenever I think about Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss, I get all verklempt. Well, that is putting it lightly. On Friday, driving to pick up DH for our date at the Larry the Cable Guy show, I heard U2's "Pride" and when they got to the part "one man betrayed with a kiss" I broke down in hysterical sobs, so intense that I had to pull off the road. When I started crying as I related this to my loving partner, he laughed at me.

I sincerely hope that I can overcome this emotional overload before Easter gets here.

The Christmas cards have started rolling in. Many of them include the standard shlocky Christmas letter telling how wonderful their lives are, how wonderful their kids are, and how much they love their wonderful, super acheiving perfect children and spouses and oh everything is just so great that when you're done reading the letter butterflies will come flocking out of your ass.

So, I feel it is my duty this year to send out a realistic and totally honest Christmas letter. First I'm going to try to put the kids to bed on time, to get me in the proper mood. And then I'm going to make an outline, but not actually write the letter until after I have one of my molars pulled tomorrow morning. Yup, I'll be in the perfect frame of mind to write a letter about the last year of our lives........