Friday, November 21, 2008

You can try and tell me it's a lemon, BUT it's yellow so I KNOW it's a banana!

The following story is dedicated to my wonderful husband, Clayton. (My sisters really were right... if he can stand living with YOU... he must be THE ONE!)

The other night I actually planned dinner the day before! Followed a recipe and everything! Put a Heritage style pork roast on in the slow cooker in the morning and made sure I had everything for baking powder biscuits so I could make them after work.
And let me tell you I was dreaming about those baking powder biscuits all day long.
So when I got home I whipped up the biscuits, cut up the pork, dished out the potatoes and dinner was served.
We dug in...
I took a bite of my baking powder biscuit and was hit with a very strong, bitter taste. Now normally I would have choked it down, then set the rest on my plate and complained about the odd tasting biscuit.
BUT my reaction had lots left to be desired... I blame it on the pregnancy hormones... who wouldn't?
I spat the piece of biscuit out of my mouth and onto my plate and then smashed the rest of the biscuit in my hand onto the table. And said something like, "What the hell (insert nastier word here) is wrong with the hellish (insert nastier word here) baking powder biscuit?!"
Clayton just looked at me and then took a bite of his biscuit... and judging by my display I am guessing he decided it was fine to run to the garbage a spit his out.
"What?! Was it that bad?" I yelled at him. Apparently the hormones made me forget I had just spat mine onto the plate.
He tried his best to ignore me and sat back down at the table.
Now in a horrible mood there was no saving the nice meal. I grumpily shoved a bite of my pork into my mouth, "And the PORK..." I shouted in mid-chew, "The PORK is dry! Oh great... what a lovely, well thought out, meal!"
Clayton sat down his fork and looked at me, "Kimberly, the pork in FINE."
That made me go off. "No it's not FINE. It's dry and the apples are weird in it and I am never following some stupid recipe again! And I was so looking forward to those damn baking powder biscuits... 4 teaspoons of baking powder... I knew I should have phoned Mom and got her recipe. I was really looking forward to this meal and it sucks ass and it is not FINE!"
Clayton, in a moment of courage, said quietly, "Um Kimberly I thought I saw you get out the baking soda box..."
"What?" I shouted.
And then the hormones left me on cue... at the moment when your normal self will feel really stupid for your behaviour... AND I FELT STUPID... VERY STUPID.
"Oh... I think I did..." was all I could muster.
Clayton being quite a genuinely calm and forgiving type person, just chuckled. "Remember that time you used Vanilla instead of Soya Sauce in your sweat and sour meatballs."
Finally I smiled, "Oh my god that WAS horrible. Well I can't even blame this on pregnancy brain."
Then I got up and made some actual BAKING POWDER biscuits!

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

The art of ALWAYS being right

Last night Clayton was getting into bed and his pillow had fallen back between the wall and the mattress, again.

"Dammit I hate this bed," he grumbled as he pulled his pillow back onto the mattress.

As he rose to get out of bed, I said, "Well why don't you push the mattress up so it touches the wall, and then that won't happen anymore."

He stopped, glared at me and said, "WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I AM DOING?!"

Like the good wife I am, I told him, "It looks like you're doing what I told you to do. Nice work honey!"

He just glared at me and I'm sure said a few choice words under his breath.

Poor poor men... they can just never win! It's cause women... we're just so good with our words!!! (That's just what happens when you don't have a little head in control of your thought process...)

Thursday, November 13, 2008


I'm pregnant! Due May 19!
Baby is 12 weeks 5 days old in this picture and about 2 inches long!
We got to watch baby do back flips on the screen... pretty damn cool!

Being pregnant is pretty exciting...

The Top Ten Most Wonderful Things About Being Pregnant:

10. People are just plain nicer to pregnant ladies.
9. I get to have lots of naps and not feel guilty about it.
8. Throwing up is a welcomed event as it elevates the nausea.
7. Counting down the days left until I no longer have to go to work.
6. Everything smells better... and WORSE!
5. Burping openly, in public and saying... "What? I'm pregnant!"
4. There is now a good excuse for my erratic and emotional behaviour!
3. Clayton rubbed my back once when I was spewing... and he HATES being near vomit.
2. I can eat weird food combinations and blame it on pregnancy cravings.

And the number one most wonderful thing about being pregnant...

1. I step on the weigh scale and can't wait to see how much I've GAINED!!!

Thursday, November 6, 2008

2nd out of 2 ain't bad!

Well I wasn't going to admit it... because I didn't win... BOO HOO... but then I figured... all that work for nothing?!!!
So here is goes...
I entered the local newspaper's Scary Story contest they ran for Halloween! And I don't even like scary stories... but I really could have used that $75! ;) So I dug deep. And I figured I had a fair shot... the editor told me they had no entries about a week before the deadline... so I thought what the hell... 75 bucks is 75 bucks!

BUT apparently someone else entered...

So I'm consoling myself with the fact that I probably came in second... second out of two ain't bad! ;)

And so that my time spent writing and others time spent editing didn't go to a complete waste... I finally decided to post the damn story here:

Alone in the Dark

The night was deathly still, as if no living thing had ever been; had ever breathed a single life giving breath. The eerie, unnatural silence had engulfed all corners of the yard and was wrapping itself around the two story house like a massive python constricting and suffocating its helpless prey. The forbidding silence slithered and seeped into the darkened house; filling every nook and cranny with its sinister presence. In an upstairs bedroom, Jessica shivered,
“It’s just a calm night,” she tried to reassure herself. “Peaceful even; now close your eyes and go to sleep.” But it didn’t feel peaceful, not one little bit.
After a few minutes of hopelessly trying, Jessica’s eyes fluttered open again. She shivered violently under the tightly wound covers. Cold, it’s too cold in here. Her mind raced to find a rational reason for her body to be convulsing with such chilling force. “Turn up the thermostat,” she told herself, but her body made no effort to rise. Only her eyes seemed somewhat interested in the command as they peered warily into the hall.
“WHAT WAS THAT?” she screamed the question inside her head. Something was out there. Someone was in the hall. She had caught a glimpse of movement and reached instinctively to the other side of the bed to wake her husband. As her hand brushed over the tidy, folded edge of the top sheet, her heart sank. He was away on a business trip. The realization hit her like a death sentence.
He was away. She was alone. Someone was in the house.
She lay there, frozen under the sheets; her vulnerability seeped out from every corner of the queen sized bed. Her initial urge was to hide her head under the covers, as if the quilt was a linen fortress that would protect her from the intruders below. “But how would that help, stupid girl,” Jessica yelled inwardly at herself. “Think. Do something. Help yourself.” It seemed as if rational thought had left her. All she could do was lay there, feeble and unprotected, awaiting her fate.
Suddenly, a loud clatter echoed throughout the house. Her heart pounded, even faster than before and fear started to encompass every ounce of her body. Her mind tried lamely to diminish the situation, “It’s the cat! The cat has jumped up on the kitchen counter top and knocked something off! Stupid cat! Oh lovely cat! If only it was the cat, the stupid, lovely cat!” She clung to this false reality, for only a moment, until she remembered with clear certainty that she had let the cat out earlier that evening.
“They’re robbing me,” she thought. “They can have whatever they want, I don’t care. Just don’t come back upstairs. Please don’t let them come into the bedroom and find me here, alone,” Jessica pleaded desperately with the powers above. She turned her head away from the door, as if this action would give her some sort of comfort, and her eyes settled on the bedroom window. She had opened it earlier, allowing the evening breeze to wash over her while she slept. Now it seemed a beckoning ray of hope in this bleak situation. If she moved slowly, she could get out of bed without it creaking. Once at the window she would have to carefully remove the screen, climb down the roof and jump. She could do it! She would save herself. Hope filled her like a warm summer sunrise.
Then from the room across the hall came a muffled wail. TYSON! How had she forgotten about their baby, HER BABY? Shame overtook her fear-filled body. Three months she had spent nursing, changing diapers, cuddling and loving her first child and in a moment of fear all thoughts of Tyson had left her! Some mother she was! Humiliation of her selfish thoughts put her body into action before her brain could make a viable plan. She jumped out of bed and crept slowly into the gaping blackness. She peered down the hall and then darted across the threshold into the baby’s room. She ran over to the crib, reached in and lifted Tyson from his waking slumber. He gave a little squawk as she snuggled him to her chest.
Jessica’s heart jumped into her throat, for at the sound of the baby’s cry, a dark figure, in the far corner of the room, stood up and turned towards her. Jessica let out a bloodcurdling scream, turned and took off out of the room with Tyson pressed tightly against her heart. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard a deep male voice shout out angry words behind her. Terror filled her soul and Tyson started to scream in her clutches. As she began descending the stairs, she felt large, icy fingertips brush the back of her nightgown. She had just escaped his grasp but on the third step she stumbled and fell forward. Tyson flew out of her arms and she was falling. Flailing about as she fell, trying desperately to regain a hold of her child. Then Tyson was gone and she was alone and falling farther and farther into this black pit of despair.
THUD! Jessica’s body jerked and she was awake. AWAKE? The sweat was pouring off her and her heart was still racing but she was awake! It had all been a dream; a horrible, terrifying nightmare. She took a deep breath to settle her pounding heart and reached over to the other side of the bed. Her hand touched the solid mass of her husband’s back and she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“I better go check on Tyson,” she thought. As she rose unsteadily, Jessica glanced back at her husband, thankful for his presence in the room. He was lying on his stomach, face down on the pillow. “How odd,” she pondered, “he never sleeps on his stomach.”
As she leaned to check her husband, a large, icy hand clamped tightly over her mouth, suffocating her screams. Her body was flung forcefully back onto the bed. Her face thrust deep into her pillow. As her mind clouded over with black nothingness the last thing that pierced her heart were the screams of her baby drifting in from the other room.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Things the youth tell me...

YOUTH: You know you're getting old when staying in and playing boardgames is the most fun you've had in a long time!

ME: But it WAS really REALLY fun... it was...

YOUTH: You're old... just admit it already.

ME: Shut up you little shit!
Because you NEED to teach the youth of today a little RESPECT; in a language they can understand of course! And then I wacked him with a ruler... 3 times! ;)