I recorded this video the night of March 5, the night I found out I was pregnant.  After I took a pregnancy test I ran to the store to buy Charlotte a Big Sister shirt to show daddy  You can see the rest.

I love everything about this video.  I love my husband’s befuddled look, his messy curls and that old Han Solo t-shirt.  I love that he doesn’t act disgusted even though I’m handing him something I just peed on.  He’s the kind of guy you have babies with.

We’ve been practicing our grunting and bridge guarding.  I think Charlotte would be a pretty cute troll.  You know, like the early nineties collectibles we enjoyed.  Aw!  Here she is…

Now, if Greyson and I were trolls, we’d be gruesome doofuses like a Harry Potter troll.  Ew…

Why are we going to be trolls?  Oh, because since we’ve sold our house we have no where to live.  Surely we’ll doomed to live under a bridge somewhere and be a troll family.

Seriously.  We’ve made offers on three houses.  Two have fallen through and we remain in limbo with the third.  I’m starting to think a mossy bridge over a sparkling stream would be lovely.  But, then I remember we’d probably end up under a highway overpass with some smack addicts and I continue my MLS Google searches.  Well, as long as it’s an overpass near a good elementary school it might work.

You know when you get one of those phone calls, one that you don’t expect and definitely don’t want?  Yeah, I got one today.  I was on the way to work after dropping Charlotte off at daycare.  Greyson called.  When I saw the phone I assumed it was something about the house or the dog, maybe a reminder that I was picking Charlotte up this afternoon.  Nope.

He said, “Hey, listen.  I’m having really bad chest pains and I feel really lightheaded.  I’m going to call 911.”

What?  This is a man who in the 9 years I have known him has had a flu-like illness twice, a handful of colds he gets over within 3 days and a 12 hour stomach bug.  I knew it had to be serious.  The numbers 9-1-1 came out of his mouth.

I turned the corner, headed home and called work.  I walked in the door and saw my husband hooked up to an EKG machine and two EMT’s with him.  He was so pale.  His EKG was normal but the paramedics recommended he go to the hospital.

This was how we spent our day.

I watched the man I love lay pale and exhausted in a little hospital bed.  I laid my head on his shoulder and we watched some Netflix on his phone to kill the time between blood work and heart stress tests.  I said little prayers and touched his forehead and face.

Hours later it was all okay.  He was released and told to follow up with his physician next week.  They don’t know what caused his chest pains.  A “cardiac event” or a muscular thing?  They aren’t sure.

Regardless, it scared us.  It scared us into making some changes.  The last time we left that hospital we had our newborn baby in tow.  That is the only reason we want to go back there.

Here’s to healthier changes.

#@&*!  I have the worst #$&^*#$ head cold I have ever had in my entire %&#$*&@ life.  Ahh!

Why all the cursing?  Well, one for thing I feel terrible and I can’t breathe through my nose.  But, really I’m cussing up a storm because it’s Fat Tuesday.  I need to get it out of my system.  For Lent I’m giving up cuss words.  Yep, our darling girl is getting into the repeating phase.  Greyson and I mean well, but we let the foul language fly on many an occasion.  In his mind, what else is he supposed to say when a running back fumbles the ball?

I give you a football watching quote from my better half: “You #$&^*#$,  %*&&^, hold on to the God #@*&#$ ball!

Pretty bad, huh?  Yeah, I’m not much better when my Internet connection is slow or I drop an armload of something I should have taken in two trips. You get the idea.

It’s not just the repeating.  Charlotte is also saying “Was dat?” to everything she sees and “Was dat?” whenever we say a new word she doesn’t recognize.  I imagine phrases like the ones above would be repeated eagerly followed by a “Was dat?”

I thought about a swear jar where we have to put in money every time we say a cuss word, but that $%*# is expensive.  So, I figure a good start would be this solemn six week observance.  We’re not Catholic, but I figure the Holy Father would approve.

$%*&!  That’s right!  The Pope quit!  ::sigh::  I guess we’ll do it anyway.  That way maybe our kid won’t have a mouth so foul it needs to be stuffed with King Cake.

In case you didn’t already know.  I GEEK OUT over Christmas cards. I LOVE them!  I can’t wait to display them.  They are the only Christmasy thing I leave up well into January.  I made our card this year.  It makes me chuckle.  I find myself stealing glances at my silly little family.  It’s very “us.”

I’m worried not everyone will get the joke if they haven’t seen “Elf.”  Oh, and the “2” sort of looks like a “1” now that I look at it.  Oh well.  They’re printed now. What do you think?