i’m not a fan of clutter.  i like things in neat rows.  like with like.  modern and sparse, if possible. 

so why do I have tons of magnets?

i could not wait to declutter when we moved about a year ago.  i wanted a pile of trashbags filled with donations and trash as high as crazy people have canned goods and newspapers.  i wanted the salvation army to close for a day after i dropped all my stuff off.  if i had a moustache i would have twirled it as i went through every section of the apartment weeding out with sick precision.  this was until i got to my magnets.

as i took each of those magnets off the fridge, i remembered something about them.  where i bought them, who bought them for me, when i received them, or the jokes that personified either myself or my husband.  some i even laughed out loud about while i put them in the keep pile. 

magnets are a tiny reminder of vacations, a inexpensive but thoughtful present, a private joke shared with anyone opening the fridge for some milk.  they are perfect snapshots into your life without having to shuffle through the 2 holidays, 3 birthday parties, and the worst baby shower ever on your camera’s memory card.  soon they will hold up little Jackson’s masterpieces.

and so, all but 3 magnets stayed.  and i have plenty of room for more.

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There are three events that transpired in the past year after learning I was pregnant.  Warning: this will be a little sappy, but I blame this on the hormones.  Also, some sounds crazy, but I blame this on the fact that I am crazy.

We weren’t trying for long and I knew I was pregnant.  I took nine negative pregnancy tests, but I knew I was down with the sickness.  By the time it was confirmed, I was 5 weeks along. 

After the positive piss at the ob/gyn office (FINALLY!), there are three events that stick out in my mind.  My son may ask “what was it like?  how did you feel?” questions…and I will tell him these three events:

Event One:  Can’t Touch This

I was driving to work one ordinary morning.  It was about a month after being diagnosed “pregnant” and it’s really hard to say how it happened.  What was growing in my stomach became a baby and instantly needed to protect it.   It had feelings, a voice, and it could feel love.  Though I was responsible before; quitting smoking, not drinking, etc., I needed to let it know who I was and what I was willing to do.  I was suddenly connected in a way that no blog can accurately portray, but I will try to inadequately explain.  I’m pretty sure I sound nuts.

I actually turned down the radio thinking that this baby needed to communicate with me and the radio was interference.  I put my hand on my stomach and just felt “it”.  I wasn’t showing, he was old enough to move, and I wasn’t telling anyone yet, but I knew I needed to tell the baby that I loved it and would do anything to make sure it was safe.  I think that it was that car ride that I became a mother.  

I wasn’t tingly or feverish, or hearing voices.  I just knew that the baby was there and loved me, and I did the best I could to tell it not to worry and I loved him right back.  I was pretty sure that it was a boy, and I’m positive he knew who I was and was content.  

Event Two:  MTV Cribs presents “My Womb”

The dreaded “first trimester screening” was upon me.  This is the appointment you’re scared to go to and scared not to go to.  Some mothers don’t.  I’m one of those people that prefers “the devil you know”…

At the screening  they look at the baby’s head and neck to see if there’s any red flags for neurological diseases.   The sonogram technician really can’t reveal anything and you have to wait for the results, but you get to see the little peanut move around.  And move he did.  (The technician, though she wasn’t supposed to say anything, said to place money on the fact that it’s a boy.)  At one point during this sonogram the baby waved in a way that was obvious.  He was saying:  Ladies, this is my crib.  This is where I eat, sleep, and poop.  Now get that wand outta my house! 

I was so scared going in to that appointment, but something about his actions on the sonogram screen assured me that all would be fine.  A reverse of what happened to me in the car, this time he comforted me.

Event Three: My Absolute Favorite

They brought him to me early in the morning on my second night in the hospital.  I think it was around 2am.  He was all wrapped up in his Halo sack, like a blue pea pod.  I was breastfeeding and it was time for him to eat again.

He was just a little bit awake.  Awake enough to eat a little bit before he drifted off again.  While he was eating I looked out the window and the slowest falling snowflakes I’d ever seen.  Light, fluffy, and perfect snow.  Movie set snow.  With the baby, my husband passed out next to me, and the snow, it was the most peaceful, happy moment I’ve ever taken the time to remember.

Even as I read this back to myself I know this doesn’t accurately tell these stories.  There’s no way to verbally exhibit  the impact of these three events.  But it’s nice to know that one day in the future, after these days are forgotten because I have an unruly toddler, or a surly teenager, that I can read this and have it take me back.

I took a long break.

I got married.  I moved to the country.  I had a kitten.  I am a mother.

I suck.  And I’m sorry.

(and it’s very easy to apologize because, like 3 people read this.  And I’m one of them)

sorry guys…miss pussified has been a little busy doing the wedding thing, then the honeymoon thing, then the i’m too tired from planning a wedding thing…

now it’s the “time to get back to the blog (and normal life) thing”.

i’m organizing another pussified playlist for the 2 of you interested…and i promise i won’t be leaving my small, yet hopefully captive audience for this long again…

licks and purrs…

The Icepick emailed this article to Jimcent today. He then forwarded it to me because it summed up pretty much everything that should be said about professional sports these days in the first few paragraphs.

When the average American goes to games, it is rather Pavlovian. We look up at the pretty screen and it says clap and we clap. It says JUMP and we jump. We don’t even pause to ask how high.

Now, if Man U. are the Yankees of the English Premiership, and Arsenal are the Red Sox…which team am I rooting for. Oh, yeah…Arsenal.

If you identify with the first few paragraphs and jump without asking how high, maybe you should go through the steps on page 2 to find an EPL team. Simmons does a very good job narrowing down…though his final choice is less than stellar.

I know it’s not a high scoring game…but at least the players don’t have beer bellys.

1) Gravity: it works twice as fast. party hats become ice cream cones pretty quickly.

2) Bras: the cute little lacy demi ones…forget it.  cotton, under wire ones are the way to go.  yup, sexy. and can someone explain to me why the DD’s have WAY more padding than the AA’s?  Do you think we need anymore padding?

3) Bikinis: in the same way that bras are a pain in the ass, have you tried looking for a bikini that doesn’t make you look like a porn star?  i’ve found more needles in haystacks.

4) Cute sundresses:  I tried on 20+ dresses today.  2 different stores.  i bought one dress that i will still have to wear a tank top under to avoid the girls from freeing themselves.

5) Running: unless you find three sports bras comfortable, get used to added bounce.  and I don’t mean the new and improved sneaker technology kind.  plus, all that extra weight has to mess with your aerodynamics.

sorry.  friday night complaining because i just tried on the damn dress again and i’m still not convinced i made the right choice…

so ninja kitty and i went to the beach Monday. there was a bit of deliberation as it was rather overcast…but we went anyway. actually, overcast days are better for us sun lovers because the cloud-filtered sun is more concentrated. (and yes it is worse for you because it’s stronger. pussified does recommend sunscreen my kittens, though she uses the only bottle of spf 4 that’s still sold)

we got there around 10:30 even though we left at 8:30 and hit the beachy area by 9:30. we had gps issues. quite a few other people must have had the same “should we go or not go” deliberation because there weren’t many people there for a holiday, which was surprising.

our only company at first had wings. we were brutally bit by these ugly, tiny bugs. first i thought i had fleas and that i gave them to ninja kitty, but everyone around us was audibly complaining. so, i was glad it wasn’t my issue. after determining that if it got too bad we’d throw in the towel (pun intended) and go grab lunch somewhere, we settled down and fried.

something happened and we must have fallen asleep because the next time we looked up about 1.5 hours later the beach was crawling with people. and then we decided lunch was a better than 184 different loud conversations and children screaming.

now, here’s something i just don’t understand about the beach. why is it that you can be at a beach for about 3 hours and not feel like you got any sun, but the second that beach blanket is rolled up and you look at your friend and she looks at you you both go “wow! you got a lot of color!”

sunscreen kitties…sunscreen.