(Re)Learned life lesson

Oh, it’s never a dull day with me lately. My recently (re)learned life lesson? Don’t swat at bees.

Over this past 4th of July holiday weekend, I was minding my own beeswax - pun TOTALLY intended – drinking a cup of coffee while sitting on our front porch.
Enter Mr. Bee.

This little bugger kept buzzing all around me and got much too close for comfort, so against my better judgment, I swatted at him when I realized he had no intention of leaving my area. This is MY porch, Mr. Bee!

As you can imagine, he was having none of it. My swatting had no effect. Go figure. I had to evacuate the premises.

Upon leaving my comfy Adirondack chair (that Eric built for us…what a little handy woodworker he is!), I noticed Mr. Bee went directly to a specific spot on the chair in between two slats of wood and didn’t emerge from that spot for longer than I would’ve expected. You know, because I’m such an expert on knowing the habits of bees and all.

Well, given my innate nosiness…err, I mean curiosity, I went to peep the scene.
I couldn’t believe it. Directly below where my left leg had just been relaxing to the max was a small beehive bee-ing (haha) built! Eric, who was also sitting on the porch next to me in his own chair, just HAD to know about this.

As I’m telling him what I just discovered, I thought it would be cool to also SHOW him by flipping over the chair.

Uh oh. Bad Anne. NOT A GOOD IDEA.

As I’m flipping over the chair for show-and-tell hour at the Stefl Household, I spot at least two bees, and they are not pleased I’m literally turning their world upside down. One of them makes a beeline (haha, this never gets old) for my left foot and stings my big toe. Lovely.

For Pete’s sake. I haven’t had a bee sting since my very first one when I was 7 years old!

Now, who knows if my earlier swatting at the bee is what caused him to retaliate with such ruthless maliciousness or if he would’ve came after me anyway, but I’m guessing it probably didn’t help. Oops. (And for the record, Eric did make a comment while I was doing the aforementioned swatting and noted it might not be the best idea, but that clearly didn’t stop me. Dang it.)

Needless to say, getting stung at 8 and ½ months pregnant didn’t make me happy. Poor Eric. I think it’s fair to say I’ve held it together emotionally for just about all of my pregnancy, but that little bee sting really did not sit well with me. I’m not gonna lie…a few tears were shed. And then I also poured one for my homies that have passed. Okay, so maybe that last part didn’t happen.

On this week’s to-do list? Stop at the hardware store for some beehive killer spray. And no, I will NOT be the one spraying the hive. Good luck with that, Eric. :)

~as

Blue Steel is sooo 2001

Derek Zoolander’s trademark “blue steel” look has got nothing on my “deer in headlights” look.

So yesterday at work I was just minding my P’s and Q’s. I had barely sucked down my mini pot of coffee (decaf…ugh!) before having to jet off to a regularly scheduled Monday morning meeting. No big deal. Business as usual.

That is…until I was asked after the meeting to accompany one of our senior level managers as he swung by another colleague’s office to discuss a project.

In hindsight, the details were very vague as to why I was needed for this discussion. But like I mentioned above, I can’t have caffeinated coffee these days, so the finer details of my mornings before I fully wake up aren’t always questioned thoroughly.  Sad, but true.

Anyway, we strolled past the colleague’s office and instead, headed towards a large conference room around the corner and proceeded to BARGE right in.

I was floored.

Who just barges into a closed conference room without so much as knocking?!? Certainly not a senior level manager that would know better! This is a professional place of work, people!

Heavens to Betsy. Picture my embarrassment as I see a room full of people staring back me. There WAS in fact a meeting going on that we just barged in on! 

Except that wasn’t the case...

It was a surprise.

Surprise baby shower, that is.

They got my good. Real good. Those sons of guns.

And the worst part is that it took the duration of all the above mental thinking and internal dialogue with myself before I actually figured out what the hell was going on.

And when the light bulb finally clicked on, I got the “holy-crap-deer-in-headlights-look” instantly. And like a little kid that still wasn’t 100% positive, I proceeded to point to myself, as if to physically ask “this is for me??”

Oh boy. And I’M going to be raising a child. Yikes. :)

When the crowd started to good-naturedly laugh at my complete naivety, I knew I had FINALLY hit the nail on the head and it was indeed a surprise baby shower. I was in shock. Being the control freak that I am, I haven’t had a surprise party in years!!

After putting 2 and 2 together, I quickly scanned the crowd looking for Eric (for those of you that don’t know - we work for the same company), but I didn’t see him.

Perfect.

That meant the little sneakers at work lured me to the conference room first and he must still be on his way. I was about to witness his deer in headlights moment. SCORE!

Except, you see, my husband is much more on the ball that I. Damn him. He figured it out the moment he walked into the room. Oh well, glad I could give the crowd a bit of a chuckle for all the hard work they did planning and preparing for the surprise. They successfully pulled off surprising both of us and held an amazing shower for us. We are extremely lucky to have such wonderful coworkers!

And a special thank you goes out to Jana and Natalie for heading up the planning. You guys are the best!!! :)

~as

So adorable I could eat these

Remember how a few months ago I started to teach myself to crochet? Feast your eyes on what I made!

*Thanks to Eric for the sweet, sweet pic!

PSYCH. (Yeah, I’m bringing it back.)

I wish I made these. My crochet venture went a little something like this:

I figured out a stitch technique that probably would’ve been enough to squeak out a blanket, but my interest level fizzled out faster than a sparkler on the 4th of July. End of story.

And really…it’s not my fault. I inherited this start-a-baby-blanket-yet-never-finish-it character flaw. My aunt started a baby blanket for my cousin while he was in the womb. He’s 29 years old now…and still waiting for his blanket. It's clearly her fault I am the way I am.

Thank goodness someone gifted us this adorable mint green hat and booties for me to claim as my own. Phew. I’m envisioning the photographic hay day we’re going to have with the homemade hat and booties I MADE once the baby gets here. Shut your mouth, Internet. Mind your own beeswax.

And here’s the other thing…we had our childbirth class not long ago. First off, talk about a real snoozer. Literally. I dozed off at one point. Oops. Eric will attest to this. But in my defense, it was a part of the class where even the nurse instructor said something about it being okay if she caught a sleeper during this part. After all, the lights were off, drapes were closed, we were on the ground with our pillows and blankets, and we were supposed to be practicing calming breathing techniques.

Ummm, DOES SHE KNOW ME AT ALL?!?!

I could fall asleep with a railroad train blaring next to me, let alone this cozy environment she spoon fed me. Totally her own fault. Good thing Eric nudged me and I jostled awake before she flicked the lights back on.

Oh, and what got me on this tangent (sorry ‘bout that!) was the thought that I’m not sure making a baby blanket is such a great idea anymore anyway. See? There’s always a reason why nothing is my fault. DUH.

This instructor - and all the other books and such I’ve been reading - have planted the fear of SIDS so firmly in my head that I’m going to be afraid to ever bring a blanket near the kid. He’ll likely live a life of chilliness, but he’ll be free and clear of SIDS, gosh darn it! And when he’s old enough to dial the phone with his numb and slightly blue-ish little fingers, he can call the instructor and ask what this thing called a “blanket” is that people talk about.

43 days to go! :)


~as

Get outta Dodge! A positive credit card company story?!?

Quite often credit card companies get a bad rap. Either it’s the high interest charges, late fees, or heart attack-like symptoms induced when cardholders open their monthly statements and realize just how much awesomeness they had throughout the previous month with their “magic card”.

And while I do tend to agree with the masses in thinking credit cards are the devil and their luring “buy now, pay later” logic has intrigued me one too many times in the past, I actually had a pleasant experience this past week to report. Crazy, right?!

So dig this. I used to abide by a strict Never Answer rule for numbers that popped up on my cell phone that I didn’t recognize. I’m not exactly sure who I thought might be on the other end….possibly some top secret CIA agent requesting my services and I just couldn’t be bothered during my reality TV shows? Or maybe it’s some killer/rapist giving me a heads up he’s headed over?

Either way, it’s a good thing I’ve relaxed a bit lately on that whole no answering business because I received a call late Friday afternoon from one of my credit card providers. In specific, the Fraud department. Uh oh.

Turns out some not-so-nice folks (aka ass faces) down in Tennessee under the fraudulent cover of some LLC Shoe Distributor group got their sticky little fingers on my credit card number and thought it’d be fun to charge $664 on my card. Wee!

I hope the TN’ers were at least wearing something sweet like this and had a giant cardboard replica of my credit card when they were stalking my account. I would *almost* be okay with it then. Almost.

All’s well that ends well, though. Despite this particular credit card company seeing PLENTY of shoe charges on my Visa over the years, even they knew $664 would be a bit extreme for me in one day. They denied the charge quicker than OJ denied the glove fit.

Props to the credit card company!! You guys have a pleased cardholder this week.

And while yes, I understand, this is part of their job and due diligence of being a reputable credit provider, I’m still happy. So sue me. I’m easy to please like that. “Bitches be crazy.” (~Leslie Knope, Parks and Rec)

~as

Backfire of epic proportions

Here we are…a mere two months from my due date and I get this grand idea. Well, in all honesty, it didn’t JUST come to me. I’ve been not-so-subtly hinting to Eric about it for months. And I have finally broken him down. And not a minute too soon since I have a feeling most house projects will come to a grinding halt once Little Buster Brown arrives.

We are finally updating our second bathroom! I’ve dreamt of this day, but thought it would never arrive. Here’s where things started to backfire, though…

Backfire #1: Mistakenly thinking I’d take on a supervisory role in the project due to being seven months pregnant. Not so much.

One might think I’d be on Easy Street for this renovation project.  They’d be wrong. Sitting on the couch eating bonbons = NOT on the agenda. Instead, I’ve been feverishly working to grout the new floor tile and paint the room a fresh pale blue color.

Not to fear for those thinking our baby was floating in an amniotic sac filled with paint fumes. We paid extra to get the low odor/VOC paint. No huffing for mom or baby this time around. Eric never lets us have any fun. ;)

The good news is that I’m just about done with both jobs…just have to do a few touchups and I’ll be able to mark these items off the proverbial checklist. And get this! I think I actually managed to pick out the correct paint color…the FIRST time around. It’s a Christmas miracle. As you all know, this usually isn’t the case. But considering this is the 3rd time I’ve painted this bathroom in the four years of owning our home, I’d say I’m about due. Here’s the color I went with to match the off white and gray tile and the gray granite countertop for the vanity. Here’s to hoping it all goes together like I think it will!

 
And as much as I get a kick out of people hassling Eric about me doing some of this physical work, I don’t mind helping. In fact, don’t tell Eric but I maybe, sort of, kinda like it. I like to be a part of the transformation and know I had a part in it. Shhh…don’t tell. Granted, having a big ‘ol belly in the mix makes things a bit more interesting and slows me down a bit, but I know my limits and know what I can and can’t do safely and both grouting and painting were A-OK. It’s never too early to instill a strong work ethic in the little guy, right?!

And trust me…Eric’s not sitting on the couch noshing on bonbons either. He’s got the MUCH harder and more physical jobs to do. Most of my work from here on out will consist of shopping for new accessories to match the newly updated bathroom. What’s that…I have to shop? Darn. How will I ever manage???

Backfire #2: Not accounting for the middle of the night trips to the bathroom…all the way on the first floor!

Yep…totally didn’t consider how being pregnant causes me to frequent the bathroom at least once, if not twice per night. Ugh. Usually I can sleepily stumble to the bathroom and get back before I even knew what happened, but now since I have to cross the second floor, go down the staircase, through the kitchen, and down the hallway to make it to the bathroom, I’m forced to wake up a bit more. Mainly because of the stairs involved. Where’s an in-home elevator when you need one?? Hmmm…potential next project, Eric?

Oh well…only about another week before Eric can install the toilet. Phew. My bladder can’t wait!

P.S. – Update on Baby Watch 2010 (like Storm Watch 12…hehe): 63 days to go!

~as

Holy gratitude, Batman!

This past Saturday marked my baby shower. And let me just say…WOW. Our friends and family really outdid themselves. I’m humbled by their generosity.

I hope they retain that quality for life. HA! ;)

Seriously, though, we received so many wonderful gifts. This little baby boy is loved by many. And it's official - he now has a larger wardrobe than both Eric and I put together. What a little stinker. Although...at the rate little ones pee through outfits, he’ll need a solid supply unless I want to set up camp next to the washer and dryer.  Umm, no thanks…I’m good. I will single-handedly keep infant clothing manufacturers in business solely to avoid that scenario.

I was totally stoked, too, because someone bought the one gift I registered for that I thought no one would have the guts to actually purchase…breast wipes. Hey, what can I say…I hear I’ll need them for nursing so I figured what the hell. I thought maybe there’d be a brave sole out there. And sure enough...my family, in all their crazy glory, did not disappoint.  And I can call them crazy because let's just say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!  I think I, however, was the one most embarrassed when I pulled those bad boys out of the gift bag.  I CLEARLY failed to think through this plan. But really – what party is complete without a little embarrassment? Not any that I attend, that’s for sure. Ahh, good times.

Oh, and for those curious...I’ve now hit the 30 week mark. 70 days to go!

~as

What NOT to buy me...

...unless, of course, you are totally cool with the practice of re-gifting.

And I apologize in advance for those this may offend, but here goes.

I, Anne Stefl, promise to NEVER, EVER have one of those suction cup “Baby On Board” window hangs. Awful. Just awful.

What a colossal waste of money, not to mention it transforming your car into an instant soccer mom machine. I’m not sure what people are trying to accomplish with those bad boys.  And by bad I mean truly horrendous.

I’ll tell you what they won’t accomplish...

They will not make people care that you have a little one with you. It’s not their child, so why should they care? Do you also put up a “Snack Time” sign after you’ve driven through McDonald’s drive through for a quick indulgence? Over sharing happens enough on social networking forums such as Facebook. Let’s keep it there. ;)


Second, those signs noting your procreation success will NOT cause people to drive any differently. At least it doesn’t for me. If anything, it may cause me to drive worse since I’m so busy rolling my eyes are hardly as I can that I probably lose sight of the road for a second or so!

Okay, okay...I'll get off my soapbox now.  Happy Friday!

~as