Feelin Sorry for Myself

Okay, so I lied about doing some political posting. Maybe I'll get around to it one of these days, but I think I'm fooling myself when I say that. For some reason, this pregnancy seems like its been so much harder than my other ones. I'm just physcially exhausted all the time, I can't seem to remember anything, I keep getting sick (of course, everyone in the house is sick right now except Caitlyn, I swear she has the most incredible immune system!), I've been battling preggo depression/mood swings, and I'm totally panicked about having 5 kids and my MIL here this summer when we still don't know where we're going to be living!

At any rate, we did accomplish some things this weekend in spite of my lethargic mood of late. Caitlyn had a soccer game, and, although she didn't score a goal this time around like she did last week, her team (The Blue Lightning) creamed their opponents for the third week straight! We also did the obligatory hospital tour on Sunday, which lasted about 2 hours (and I still have to go in and pre-register, argh!!). I just wanted to ensure the availability of a private room (all of theirs are), where the maternity section actually was (always good to know before you go into labor), and what some of their policies were on different laboring techniques (they have a shower in each room, yay!). Since I'll most likely have to be induced again (having never actually gone into labor on my own before), it seems like this should be a fairly easy process even though its the first time I'll have given birth in a civilian hospital. Now I just have to figure out what their policy is on giving out multiple prescriptions for Percocet, and I should be good to go! ;)

Sorry For the Lack of Posting

I promise I'm not relapsing into my old ways. The base has been exercising for the last week, and I have been heavily involved in it, so I have had little time for blogging and such. Now we're into the post exercise hot wash and after action report season (boo), and it's only 5 more weeks until the ORI! I know most of you are non-mil types, so let me make an analogy here. Going through an ORI (operational readiness inspection) is like having a really thorough anal probe conducted by a group of people with ten thousand checklists and if you don't answer their questions correctly you get zapped with a taser. Okay, maybe it isn't quite that bad, but it's close! So forgive me for the lack of blogging. I promise a diatribe on the sad state of American politics in the face of this latest scandal (8 US attorneys fired for less than clear reasons -- gotta love the fact that the incriminating e-mail trail includes info from one "Scooter" Libby!) But, for now, I have an exercise evaluation report to write. Someone tase me, please!

Foodie Blogs

In the spirit of competition (and good eats), I've been spending a lot of time researching good restos in the LA area. I have come across many good foodie blogs and message boards, but I have to say that no one can top Alan Richman. Enjoy!

http://men.style.com/gq/blogs/gqeditors/food_and_wine/index.html

Pulisha: Movie Critic

Okay, brace yourselves...I actually left the house for the second weekend in a row without my kids! That's right, I went to see a real movie in a real movie theater with absolutely no children (okay, no children that belonged to me, I will not comment on the multitude of people who apparently think it is okay to bring their very young children to a rated R movie full of sex and violence, or maybe I just did). Hubs and I went to see The 300 this weekend (along with everyone else in the world according to the amount of money it made at the box office). Considering this was the first time I'd gone to see a movie in a theater since we took the kids to see Monster House last summer (most bizarre kids cartoon movie ever!), you'd think I'd be thrilled just to get my paws on some fake buttered popcorn (I wuz). But, ever the critic, I couldn't be satisfied with stuffing my face with popcorn and flavored oil. I honestly don't know how this movie made as much money over the weekend as it did. It must be from the lack of any other interesting movies on the cinematic landscape (post-Oscar season is notorious for its crappy movie releases), because it certainly wasn't from anything the movie itself had to offer. Or maybe I'm being overly critical. After all, the Hubs loved the movie (but I think he may have been biased by the fact that we were watching it at an actual theater that was located nowhere near our living room and that no children who came from any part of our DNA were located within a 10 mile radius). Personally, I thought it was lacking in any real storyline, there was nothing to tie you emotionally to any of the characters, and all it really had to offer was 2 hours of non-stop blood and gore (lots of blood and gore! Blood and gore in slo-mo, at wierd camera angles, etc.). Oh, and nipplage, lots and lots of nipplage. So, clearly, this is a man's movie ;)

Pu's Critique: Too much blood, too much gore, too many nipples.

Don'cha Wish Your City Was Hot Like Mine

It is a sunny 91 degrees here in LA today. Not to rub it in or anything... ;)

This is My Life as a Mother Girl

Despite my prestigious job and exceedingly high intelligence (and modest, don't forget about my modesty ;), I am totally and completely addicted to what is clearly the least intelligent show on television: America's Next Top Model (unless you count I Love New York...which I also watch). So if you don't get the above reference, really, you should feel quite good about yourself. And if you do...well, now I feel better about myself ;) Anyway, the whole point of this post actually has nothing to do with reality tv, modeling, or really anything I've typed about so far and, in fact, has a lot more to do with pooping. Now, I realize this is becoming somewhat of a regular topic here at Pu's Corner, but you must realize that we are in the midst of potty training a toddler, and I feel you all should at least be greatful that I haven't posted at length about the issue of pregnancy and pooping. So quit whining! Ahem...sorry about that.

Anyway, Jocelyn has now established a regular pattern of pooping in the tub, which has become increasingly less funny each time it happens. She is apparently as unhappy with this turn of events as I am since she starts crying every time it happens. I think her crying is partially becuase Caitlyn tends to freak out when this occurs (and rightly so. I, as a xx yr old woman wouldcertainly freak out, so I can't really blame an 8-year old for getting upset when someone poops in her bath water) because last night she (Jocelyn) kept going, "Ewwwww!" as I cleaned up the mess. I did manage to catch her mid-poop this time and sit her on the toilet, which she seemed fairly nonplussed with. She had another small poop in the toilet and we waved bye-bye at it as I flushed it down the toilet. What I can't figure out is what is causing her to keep pooping in the bath? Is it the warm water, is it the time of day, is it some wierd psychological baby thing? I don't know! So how can I prevent it from happening again? She obviously doesn't like it when it happens, so she isn't doing it on purpose, and I'm getting darn tired of cleaning out the bath tub (not to mention the fact that its just kind of gross). So, that's the big news from Pu's house (pun intended). Maybe it will make you all feel a little bit better about your own lives (I know that's how I feel when I watch ANTM!).

Pregnant Biz'otch

I have long since passed the second trimester glow and am now mired down in the heavy, plodding, ever widening butt morass known to most people as the third trimester of pregnancy. God plays cruel tricks on women. After gagging and sleeping like a narcoleptic through your first trimester, you suddenly feel energized with the added bonus of immense breasts that are no longer so sore to the touch that you sock your husband in the eye everytime he dares glance down below your neck. You begin to feel like this pregnancy thing might not be so bad after all. I mean how could something that gives you cleavage for the first time in your life be all bad, right? Hahahahahahaha

No, my friends, this is all a clever joke on the part of the cosmos to trick you into thinking that procreating is not that much of a pain in the ass. Because as soon as you pass that 28 week mark (and I mean literally...like within minutes) you suddenly notice how incredibly dumpy your butt has become, how much your thighs have expanded, how hard it has become to breathe, and how impossible it is to try and roll over in bed without the concerted effort of your husband to assist you (although he may get some enjoyment out of watching you flounder around like a turtle on its back). Then you begin to count the days, nay, weeks left until your due date with a sinking feeling in your excessively large abdomin as you realize you still have an enormous amount of time left and have already hit the point on the scale where your nurse has started to make little comments about how much weight you are gaining between appointments (wow, are you sure you're only seven months, ha ha ha). Slowly these realizations and ever increasing awareness of the mass of your lower body begins to take a toll on the pregnant one's already fragile psyche. And so begins the quick descent into pregnant bitchdom. I should, perhaps, feel some sympathy for my poor hubby who has no choice but to put up with me since he has no where else to live, but, instead, I wallow in my own misery and bitch incessently about retaining water (combat boots = not so good for preggo feet). (I feel less bad about this now that he has taken to shaking my prodigeous rear and singing about how my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard). How is it that we forget just how bad it gets towards the end? Nature is a cruel mistress to the pregnant!

Gettin' Our Culture On

So after much whining about how my lil' sis always seems to be doing cool cultural things, we finally broke down and admitted we now live in LA and not bum f*ck Japan and can actually go out and experience American culture at its finest (instead of sitting on our couch watching American Idol and America's Next Top Model *sob* I admit it, I have a problem). For our first foray outside the home this year, we chose to go to Jim Hensen's Puppet Up!, a puppet improv show that is definately not for children or people who offend easily! (We figured if we couldn't make it to Chicago to see Harvey Finklestein, this was the next best thing!) As with any improv show a lot of the jokes were hit or miss, but it was actually really cool to see how they do all that stuff you see on tv (also there was a disclaimer that they were filming for a DVD that night, so if any of you ever, um, buy an adult puppet show DVD...that just sounds so wrong). They did the show on a regular stage, so the audience could see the puppeteers underneath working the puppets, and there were large screen tvs around the stage that allowed you to see the puppet-only perspective. Very cool!

Anyway, the kids were very interested in the fact that we had gone to puppet show without them. As soon as I find the cord for the camera, I'll post a picture of Jocelyn trying to puppet up!