Thursday, November 22, 2007

An Extreme Makeover

We just got back from Thanksgiving dinner at Decision Point in Prescott. The best thing, besides the pumpkin cheesecake, was seeing the amazing transformation that my sister has made. I know this seems like a lot of pictures, but I can't help but show the world how HOTT (yes, this actually warrants 2 T's) my sister is. She's so beautiful. She has color in her skin and her hair is vibrant. Her smile is amazing. She was wearing the cutest outfit with a stylish pair of hoop earrings. In fact, she's so sexy that she's been put on a "No Contact" status with another patient. Apparently he has developed a crush on her and contact between them would be detrimental to his treatment. She's so hot, she's dangerous.

Marie was so happy and comfortable. She was definitely quite popular with all the other patients and she didn't hesitate to show Booker off to anyone who looked his way. In fact, Booker was the only kid among 40 or so adults and he received a RIDICULOUS amount of attention. It was so out of hand- no single person should ever be as doted upon as Booker was tonight. One of the patients missed his son and was eager to take Booker off my hands and over to a nearby playground. I was nice to be able to eat with two hands instead of one. It was such a fun night. With three of the Tueller siblings together tonight (Marie, Danny and myself), it made me look forward to Christmas when all five of us will be reunited. I can't wait.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Thomas Barrett

This is my cousin, Thomas. He's truly amazing. Like actually quite good. I promise. Booker likes to bop his head to "Cough It Out."

He lets me make his flyers. I'm a groupie. Check him out.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Pregnancy Rant

As I begin to contemplate a second pregnancy, I feel the need to make a record of how terrible my first one was and to remind Clark, who, naturally, is eager for number two, that PREGNANCY SUCKS.

The heartburn was terrible. The stretch marks... like zebra stripes all over my body. The overall discomfort and body aches were BLEHAAWFUL. But all of that was bearable. It was the morning sickness, actually the Hyperemesis gravidarum because that's what's its called when it gets out of hand, that was my undoing.

Losing twenty pounds in the first trimester was kind of fun, heaven knows I needed too. But after awhile, I started to miss food. And then I started to miss liquids. Apparently you can't go more than 48 hours without them. That particular incident warranted the first trip to the ER, where I went home with several suppositories of Zofran and Phenergan. Lovely.

Phenergan is a wonderful drug that made me sleep 20 out of 24 hours each day. It took away some of the nausea, but I think that's mostly because I was too sedated to vomit. At night, Clark would come from school and we would watch TV "together." This meant I would lie in bed in the bedroom with the lights off and Clark would sit in the living room with the TV volume turned up nice and loud. I would listen in and occasionally ask questions about what was going on.

It got to the point where I would scold Clark for putting the toilet seat down, because sometimes I couldn't make it to the bowl in time. I dotted the streets and parking lots of Mesa/Tempe with pools of vomit. I threw up in an Old Navy dressing room. I threw up in the cereal aisle of Safeway and walked out, leaving behind a cart full of groceries. But the worst was when I threw up on somebody's yard sale. Clark and I were driving in the car when I told him he better pull over. He pulled off the busy road and onto a residential street. I quickly opened the door and released a wave of vomit. When I looked up, there was a family setting up a yard sale. They looked me at and then at the vomit sitting on their driveway. I apologized and then vowed to never get pregnant again.

So to those of you who are considering getting pregnant... DON'T DO IT. Just look at this kid- he's not even that cute. And did you know that stretch marks are permanent? Its totally not worth it. Just adopt.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Another Reason to Love Yo Gabba Gabba

Today's episode of Nick Jr.'s Yo Gabba Gabba took pause from its usual awesome computer-tronic dance numbers to show a clip featuring the unmistakable voice of Mark Kozelek of Sun Kil Moon/Red House Painters fame. I nearly died.

Four Reasons I Love Booker

***Warning this entry contains details that only doting parents and grandparents of Booker will find interesting. You've been warned.***

Booker is definitely no longer my baby. He's a little boy now. And not just any little boy, a boy's boy. I was hoping he would be different... maybe prefer puppets and books over balls and cars. But I can tell already, he's going to be a handful. Here are some things he does that make me yearn for the quiet little baby boy he started off as:

1. He's constantly DIRTY. He loves to knock over the trash can when I'm not looking and play with the garbage. He also loves playing in the toilet water, playing with Brody's food and water, and he definitely enjoys rolling around in the big sandy lot that is our back yard. Just within the last five minutes, I've had to strip him of his clothes and clean up a big puddle of V8 juice because he managed to open up his Sippy cup. Last night, he went through 3 different pairs of pajamas before he went to bed. Sometimes he takes two baths a day.

2. He gets into EVERYTHING. His favorite drawer in the kitchen is the tupperware drawer. Sometimes I'll go in the kitchen to find little stacks and towers of tuperware all over. He also loves my underwear drawer and can often be found with a bra around his neck. I have to keep the doors to the laundry room and the two bathrooms closed at all times. He knows where I stash my 100 calorie snacks and is endlessly bringing them to me and eagerly asking, "Dee?" (please). The other day, I left him alone in the empty bathtub for a few minutes. When I came back, he had EATEN half a bar of soap. Truly disgusting.

3. He's covered in bruises and scratches. I think Booker has the same sense of adventure that I had as a little girl but eventually grew out of. He has two favorite games. The first is standing on the table next to the couch and throwing himself like a stiff board onto whomever is cluelessly watching TV. The other game involves a willing parent. We creep up to him while growling loudly and he pretends not to notice. As soon as we get close enough, he lunges at us screaming like a little girl. Once he's free, he runs in the other direction like a madman and the game continues. Oh, his other favorite game which we are desperately trying to discourage is shoving his arm down Brody's throat as far as it can go and laughing as Brody's gags helplessly. Its terrible.

4. He's very independent. When its time to eat, I simply hold up his different choices and he shakes his head if he's not interested. If I hold up something he wants, his face lights up and he says, "Dooooooooo." When its time to go somewhere, I tell him we're going Bye-bye and before I know it he's at the door repeating, "Ba-ba." When I pull him out of the carseat, he likes to be the one to close the car door. When it comes to bedtime, there is no cuddling or rocking involved. We just place him in his crib where he proceeds to throw all his stuffed animals onto the floor. Its a strange routine.

He's loud, he's dirty, and he's much messier than any child of mine should be. I miss baby Booker sometimes, but I love the little boy that he's becoming- even if it means I do twice as much laundry. I even love that he's loud and obnoxious because when he's quiet and inconspicuous, then I know he's up to no good. Perhaps my girl (because the next one will be a girl) will be a girl's girl and I'll have fun with bows, dresses, cute little tights and rhinestone necklaces.

Until then, I have to deal with this lovable sword-wielding, V8-reeking, clothes-hating little monster.