Turkey's Done?

I've been pretty proud of my baby growing skills this whole time. I was never sick much and overall I have very few complaints. I think I'm doing a pretty good job hatching our egg. Maybe too good...

Because at my last appointment I learned that our Lovebug is already 5 pounds! I've never done this before so I'm not sure what constitutes normal at 30 weeks. But by my calculations and wild imagination I fear I may be giving birth to the world's biggest baby.

So, naturally the first thing I did when I got to work this morning was Google "World's Biggest Baby." And if I plan on breaking any records I have my work cut out for me. The winner came in at 19 pounds! No need for all the newborn clothes we have washed and ready if that happens.

So far there are no plans of moving my due date. For now let's just hope that the high-tech medical equipment is just a little off. I'd be perfectly happy with a healthy rolly-polley baby but we've got no plans to change his name to Andre the Giant.

You Ass...

It's been almost a year since I lost my Grandpa Kern. I miss him all the time. But usually when I think about him I start laughing, not crying. I even dream about him sometimes. I'm scared that Christmas will never be the same without him here. So I'm doing my best to laugh while I cry now and think of only the good shit on Christmas when my dad takes over making Slippery Eggs.

This is what my cousin, Janelle, read at his funeral.

About a year ago, in one of my classes, I was assigned to write a paper about one of my family members. It didn’t take me more than a couple seconds before I decided…. Grandpa Kern. Here are some pieces of the paper I would like to share.

My Grandpa.. Ornery, feisty, funny, perverted, and cheap. He always had something to say whether it was making fun of my messy hair (when he had none) or telling me about what happened on Dancing With the Stars. Whenever he would call it was always pretty brief because he had to hurry up before the commercials on tv were over. “Well I didn’t want nothing, bye,” was always his signature line. He was also pretty famous for the messages he would leave on the answering machine. “It’s 7 o’clock, must be out shopping…. Bye.” Or the classic messages of him talking to grandma and having no clue he was leaving a ten minute message of complete nonsense.

I will never forget the time I asked Grandpa to come with me to get a couch at Mom’s Place, a thrift store. He was always their biggest costumer and was thrilled to go. When we walked in he proudly told every employee I needed a couch for my new apartment in Iowa City. After Grandpa sent me on a tour of the whole store we found a couch for $175. Of course he wasn’t going to pay that much. He offered them $70 and then had the nerve to pay with a $100 bill. I’m not sure if I was impressed or totally embarrassed.

Grandpa always had his own way of talking. He was never very sincere, he would rather say, “Ah, you ass” instead of I love you. Beaktis instead of breakfast. Juscuzzi instead of Jacuzzi. Noenoinment instead of Neosporin. I think Angela and Tristan were married for a couple of years before he finally pronounced Tristan right… he was always Kristen or Travis.

Grandpa was always my number one fan sitting right behind home plate at every softball game. I will never forget his and grandmas matching green and gold St. Albert t-shirts. He was also one of the concession stand’s biggest costumers buying popcorn, nachos, peanuts and sunflower seeds every game. 

I always enjoyed having breakfast with Grandma and Grandpa at Hy-Vee on Saturday mornings but their eggs were never near as good as Grandpa’s famous Slippery Eggs on Christmas.

Even in the end he was still his ornery and feisty self. From flipping off the night nurse he didn’t like to talking about the cute new nurse. He always told me to “behave yourself” but now it’s my turn to tell you “behave yourself up there” I’m sure going to miss you…. You ass. 

Timber!

We needed one last picture for our Christmas card this year. I thought it would be awfully festive if we took one in front of the tree. As I'm setting up the self timer on the camera and finagling a few boxes on top of a TV dinner tray, the unthinkable happens.

Josh steps on the edge of a package, throws out both arms to balance himself, takes a few steps back, pins the Christmas tree against the wall and ends up on the floor. He managed to roll around long enough that he ended up clear over by the kitchen door. I'm asking "are you alright?" But it feels like it takes 15 minutes to get off the couch and waddle over there. He never did answer because he was laughing so hard (and maybe crying just a little).

By this time I'm laughing hysterically too but still asking "are you ok?" In the chaos, somehow I managed to drool all over the back of his "good shirt."

When we were finally able to collect ourselves and assess the damage, I realized he fell so hard that he took the paint right off the wall! Now the tree has been Jimmy rigged back together and almost stands straight. Needless to say we never got the festive picture we were hoping for. But I did snap this one...

Cat Food in the Jell-O Salad

My grandma has always been a few bricks short of a load. There's nobody quite like her. For as long as I can remember there have been little incidents that cause us to question her sanity. We've always chalked it up to "that's just Grandma" and even started referring to such incidents as "Pulling a Marilyn."

When we were kids Christmas was always a bit of a fiasco. She'd start shopping so early in the year that she would hide gifts in the basement and forget about them. It wasn't until we started opening packages that she began to second guess herself. One year my cousin Sara had quite a haul while Katie sat with only a few gifts - she always got their stuff mixed up. Then there was the year that she served left over potato casserole with the Christmas ham.

No matter how hard she tried I don't think the table was ever set for the right number of people. We had 18 buns and only 12 hamburgers. She brought a pair of cuff links to a Christmas ornament exchange. She has substituted oats for corn flakes and water in a cookie recipe. She made a Thanksgiving pie that, according to my uncle LeRoy, looked like I-680 after the flood. Planned an Easter Dinner but forgot to invite anyone. Encouraged me to buy a fancy maternity dress, "in case a special occasion might arise" between now and March. Carries her cane around like a hand-bag. Leaves bizarre, yet urgent, phone messages for every member of the family but doesn't always know why when you call her back. THE LIST GOES ON.

We know now that she has Dementia. I kind of wish we had known this all along. Might have helped us cope with the less hilarious symptoms. Now that we know it still only helps a little. But we've got to try to laugh to keep from crying, or choking her. We've always said someday she'd turn into Aunt Bethany from Christmas Vacation. Wrapping up her cat and putting cat food in the Jell-O salad...

Boy Named Sue

About 30 seconds after we found out we were pregnant I started refering to the baby as "him." I still don't know why, but at first neither of us had a single doubt...it had to be a boy.

A few months in, the doctor told us "I think I see something. It might be a boy! But don't buy anything yet. My daughter had a thing at first, but it went away." So with that news we went home feeling pretty confident in our parental intuition.

The next two appointments were another story. After being mooned via ultrasound during one appointment and another appointment with all kinds of internal visual obstructions we were persuaded that maybe it was a girl.

A little behind schedule, we were set for the 4th try to see who exactly is in there. One appointment, a quick scoot down the hall covered in belly-jelly and two ultrasounds later...we finally had our answer. It's a BOY! Thank goodness for fancy medical equipment. I got to see my insides on a jumbo-tron and what is obviously a boy. Just think - we could have easily been one of those couples who brought a boy home in a pink dress. Can't wait to see him!!

Falsely Accused

Of course I'm not a perfect parker. But today I was on the receiving end of a nasty gram written by someone who was a bit confused. Even though I was in the Employee parking lot, I highly doubt it was an employee who left me the little note.

#1 Sometimes a bad park job is the direct result of the crappy parkers who came before you.
#2 I don't drive a truck. It's a teeny tiny Suzuki Forenza.
#3 I don't see how a little back bumper hanging out into the driving lane could in any way take up 2 parking spaces.
#4 You're allowed to park in the garage! Stay out of our limited designated parking zone.

Down the Hatch

I nearly choked to death on a freaking apple.

I was enjoying my lunch, just a few bites in when I choked. I thought I could just wash it down with a swig of milk. Soon I realized that no matter how many times I tried to swallow I still had a mouthful of milk. That’s when I spit my milk back into my glass and gave the international “I’m choking to death signal” to one of my co-workers.

After pounding on the table and grabbing at my throat Nicki turned bright red and declared “Oh, my God. She’s choking!” She jumped up quick and started to give me the Heimlich in the middle of the lunchroom. A crowd began to gather.

One woman wanted to help but upon hearing that I was pregnant AND choking she threw her hands up and backed away.

I really have no idea how long this went on. It was just like the choking scene in Mrs. Doubtfire. Except milk and apple shot out my mouth and nose at the same time. I caught a breath just after the EMT got there before I started choking again. Nicki did a good job but she didn’t heave it all out of me.

Round two of the Heimlich landed an EMT and me with our heads in a garbage can while I made noises I haven’t heard since I fell down the stair in college and knocked the wind out of myself.

I moved into the bathroom where I proceeded to gag a few times. At some point I think my right eyeball popped out of my head. That’s when I discovered that I had milk in my hair, on my pants, it had filled my name badge and 3 buttons on my shirt had come undone.

I returned to the lunchroom with no desire to eat. The EVS attendant had come with a mop to clean up the Bio Hazard.

Needless to say it was the topic of discussion for the entire day. We were visited by the General Manager and the Safety Manager, who thinks my name is Ashley. Nicki was so embarrassed by the ordeal that she declared, “The next person is just going to choke.”

I’ve had to tell this story multiple times. But everyone’s reaction is about the same…

“You have to write this stuff down” Mom

“Can I laugh now?” Chad

“You are truly one of a kind” Aly

“I’m not going to lie. I laughed a little.” Angela