Hosta La Vista

Last week, my mom was here to visit and man, I put her to work. She also put herself to work by bringing a suitcase – yes, a SUITCASE – full of various plants. She swore that the plants would have cost me almost $300 if I bought them all but they were free since they were from her garden. And then she got a little miffed when we found the same plants for a buck each at Lowe’s. Minnesota apparently overcharges for plants. Way to go, Minnesota.

So, yeah. I have hostas now in the yard. Hence the blog title I just couldn’t resist.

She also pulled up two dead pine trees from our back fence line, to which Big A called her a honey badger because “she’s so small and she just don’t give a f^&%. You know she went out there and just dug them out with her bare hands”. I didn’t witness it, but he’s probably right.

I shall sum up her visit with photos.

Not only did she come prepared with a carry-on full of foliage, she convinced the bakery to sell her a tub of the epic delicious frosting I swooned about. AN ENTIRE TUB OF FROSTING. It must have weighed two pounds. Shout out to P.J. Murphy’s for not thinking my mom was nuts asking them to fill up the empty Cool Whip container. And to TSA for not confiscating or eating it.

So we made cupcakes. And there is still another batch worth of frosting in the freezer for later consumption.

We played bingo. While eating Jimmy Johns. A convergence of two of my favorite things. I thought I couldn’t be happier. And then I won $500.

Unfortch, about 20 minutes before I won $500, she won $50 and somehow convinced me that we should split all our winnings. Since I hadn’t won in a long time and we usually don’t win more than $50, I agreed. WHAT THE F%&@ WAS I THINKING!? Luckily, I was able to buy her off with a $50 purse and I kept the rest of her share. I’m greedy, what can I say.

Then we played with power tools and made this broken fountain that came with our house that’s just been an algae creator for two years into a cute little herb garden.

And we painted the old office from the hideous purple

To a buttery tan sort of color. It’s on its way to becoming the (dun dun duuuuun) NURSERY.

After a week full of good home-cooked food, including homemade rouladen and spaetzle, we ended her visit with grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate malts. I felt like I was eight again. And it was awesome.

The worst part of her visit was dropping her off at the airport. Not because I would have to say goodbye, but as we pulled into the drop-off zone she said “Well. I’ll be back soon!” Like, too soon. Like a few weeks soon. WHEN THE LITTLE %$@! IS BORN.


Double Your Fun? F You.

Dear @#%! Baby,

Your dear old Grandma B has been convinced for years that I would have twins. They run in that side of the family and there hasn’t been a set in a while. She seems to find it HI-LAR-I-OUS to imagine me juggling two babies instead of one.  Not only that, a coworker of mine, who knew I was pregnant before I did, is also saying I will be popping out two. I do not find this funny. At all. Double your pleasure? Double your fun? DOUBLE MY MANHATTAN. I’m being cursed.

Don’t you dare be two. DON’T @#%#$% DO IT. The only benefit I can see is if we end up somewhere and there is a neighbor named Danny so my two kids can creepily ask him to play.

There is another bit of upside, I suppose – if the twins are fraternal and one of each sex – then I can be done. Finished. Only have to do this once. BUT GOOD LORD. The diapers. The feedings. The drama. Yikes. I am afraid of the prospect of one baby, two would surely have me hiding under the bed. Not worth it.

My first REAL OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING appointment is today. If I see two heartbeats, I swear to whatever above…

UPDATE: While I did have my first OMFG appointment today, no twin warnings will be issued for another week or two. Whenever I schedule the damn thing. FYI, if you’re keeping score at home, I am sitting at about 9.5 weeks.

UPDATE 2: I saw a double rainbow on the way home from the appointment. And the next night, The Shining was on TV. Those aren’t signs, are they? ARE THEY??