Holy Shit Batman!

So the title says it all.  Holy shit batman!  I'm honestly freaked the fuck out.  I'm a procrastinator by nature.  Not on all things, but when it comes to... Oh say writing out quetions that the hubs and I have for the uber-guru professional high risk baby catcher, total farking procrastinator because let's face it.  I know I've got some serious issues, and the possibility of having a baby has until this point been way too damn exciting for me to even think about problems, let alone face them and write them down. 

Today I get a card in the mail that says basically to call and confirm our appointment with the uber-guru and I think "Oh shit. That's in like two weeks."  Literally two weeks.  So in two weeks I'll have a little short, Asian-American man tinkering around in my girl bits, running tests, giving advice, and basically telling us whether I can stop looking at midget clothing and gear and start buying or whether I am going to be cursing whatever diety there is out there and being Mommy to just the minion not dos minions. 

Having made the call to confirm, I sit down on my rockin new sofa with my laptop and start compiling questions for the uber-guru.  I have 8 really good ones so far and a mini-panic attack because saying that one has issues with their girly junk and the whole pregnant thing is a WHOLE different story than getting it down on paper and thinking "Holy fuck! He's going to tell me no.  There's no way he'd tell me yes with this fucked up mess I'm working with." Panic kind of sets in when you think that the thing you and hubs want SO DAMN MUCH quite possibly will never be a reality.  Then you start crying even though you know that it's a possiblity that uber-guru will tell you that they can work around the uterus of shame, and bring a live, healthy baby into the world.  I just can't help it.  I've got all these people around me saying "Oh it'll happen! Stop worrying!" that I want to believe it, but hello hope, here's some dash to fuck up your day.  It's happened before. Medical science has matured a bit since those times, so who knows.

 SO. I'm trying to be positive, but I'm big enough to say it's really damn difficult.  I really want to have it over with and done so that I can move on one way or another.  The waiting game sucks.  The whole ordeal sucks.

And on a lighter note..... A cute picture. 

Oops.....

So I'm guilty.... Guilty of forgetting that I had this blog, forgetting the email address I used to create this blog, and forgetting to write some of the funny shit that happens around here in the zoo Hubs and I call home.  Oh, and I forgot to mention that I got married in December too.  Whoops!  Not that it's a new thing or anything... I mean we've only been together for like fricken ever, we just decided to make it legal and binding and all that jazz.  I mean, since we heart each other and all... when we don't want to beat each other over the head with the closest 2x4 that is.  :) 

So... Funny stuff in life... Hrm.  Not a lot funny around here today unless you want to count achy bones as funny.  We're old as fuck here or we at least feel it after redoing the minion's bedroom from top to bottom, re-furnishing the living room, re-furnishing the dining room, and basically hauling more furniture around than we care to think about.  Oh, did I mention that the minion's room is now in what was our office and the office is now in his former room? No? Hmmm... yeah, I don't want to mention the TWO WEEKS of intensive labor we put into that room on afternoons after work or days I wasn't working.  He's totally worth it, and we had a good time arguing over paint (lime green) and random other bs that goes in a kid's room.  Including the posters, lamp, and headboard. 

I honestly can't think of anything else overly funny.  Life has been busy, full, and achy around these parts.   Oh and semi cranky because we're flippin exhausted.  We skipped Valentines day and went for the "Oh, I love you enough to buy you a new dining set so the sofa we're buying doesn't get fucked up by minions with food." I finally after a billion ages (literally 4 years!) and 500 furniture stores picked out a sofa that hubs doesn't hate so *gasp* we bought it and I'm so totally in love with the chair and a half and the fact that it's almost as long as I am tall and 4 of me can fit in it sideways stretched out and lazy.  I mean seriously.  It's a big damn chair. 

We've gone baby crazy around here too.  We see the professional high risk baby catcher in a few weeks and find out if we should even be considering the idea of procreating.  I can't even begin to tell you how.... fucking... excited.... I.... am!  Even though the guy is going to go spelunking (sp?) in my crotch and all that jazz I'm still pretty stoked about the idea of another minion or minion-ette.  Preferably the latter since the minion won't let me braid his hair and shit.  Since we don't have one here yet or on the way we've been buying Fred and Peanut shit.  Baby Nikes, Hello Kitty shirts, shorts and random other crap.  I even have a high chair in my kitchen. 

And that's about all we've been up to.  Not a damn thing.  I'll write more at another time, I've got Fred and his parents coming for dinner and I need to cook.