Random Friday

It's Friday, you guys. That means...it's Friday. And we can sleep tomorrow.

Last weekend at the beach was wonderful. So perfect. The weather could not have been more gorgeous and the water was pristine. I literally spent half of Friday and most of Saturday just sitting in my chair, watching the water. I brought a book and two magazines to read, never touched any of them. It was nice to just sit and not think, not do anything. At one point, two very chatty women with a toddler and baby that could not have been more than 3 days old pulled up near me. I hiked a good ways down the beach to find a stretch that was all alone and quiet. It was a sparse weekend anyway, but I'm talking sheer solitude. I was there for maybe 10 minutes when the family showed up. And they were sweet and just talking and the kids were actually really quiet, but the mom (the other lady was the grandmother) was SO LOUD. She had this piercing voice. And she was talking in the worst kind of baby talk to the baby and had this hyena-ish laugh. And I know I sound like such a snot when I say I got up and moved, but y'all...#1. you had to hear her and #2. I didn't go down to the beach to sit right next to that for a day. So, I got up and moved. But, I was smooth about it so they wouldn't know I was moving because of them. As I was packing my chair up, more of their group came with 6 other kids, so I feel like I made a pretty good decision. I'm only like that on vacation, I swear. And in our neighborhood.

I was looking online the other day for some maternity shorts. I have plenty of jeans, but only one pair of shorts and they're way too big right now. Did you know they sell maternity underwear? It looks remarkably like regular underwear, but it's more expensive. So, it must help deliver your baby somehow. They also have maternity socks. Says they "grow with your expanding extremities", but really that's not something you should say on a maternity website and also, don't regular socks have a little give to them, too?

I got some kiwis at Publix the other day. Publix is 'spensive, but good golly, that's the only place to get your produce from...unless you go to the farmer's market. Kiwis and I have a love/hate relationship. They're BEAUTIFUL fruit. I mean, really. The color is so pretty and I love the contrast of the black seeds. Wow, I've watched too much Food Network. I usually make fun of people who talk like that. But, you go through all this work to peel the furry little covering and it's CRAZY TART. I mean, will knock your socks off. Then, sometimes, you get a really sweet one and it's like, "Man, it was all worth it." The ones I got from Publix...they were all worth it. I want to paint a wall like a kiwi. A pretty green hue with black spots. That would...not look good. Nevermind.

Did y'all know that Lando Calrissian works at the USPS store?

I've had Draw Something on my phone for awhile now, but never played until this week. And now I can't stop. I thought it was a game you had to sit and play for awhile like Pictionary. And it is like Pictionary, but you can play the turns whenever you get a chance. And it is SO much fun. I can't tell you how much I've laughed at some drawings I've done and received. And you have such a small space to work with, so you have to be extra creative. Such a good game. If you're bored and want to play, I'm RuthieT333.

And thus ends the most random blog post of all time.

Life with Red Ruth: To Cut or Not To Cut

I felt like this scenario would be better expressed written out as opposed to illustrated.

Ruth: Ugh.

David:What is it?

Ruth: My hair. What should I do with it? Keep it long or cut it?

David: It's your hair. You do whatever you want with it.

Ruth: But, I want you to tell me what to do.

David: Well, you know I'm not gonna do that. I like your hair every way you've done it.

Ruth: But what's your favorite?

David: I like them all equally.

Ruth: It's just so long and it's getting hot and all I ever do is wear it in a ponytail and it takes forever to fix.

David: Then cut it.

Ruth: So, you do want me to cut it?

David: That's not what I said.

Ruth: But, if I cut it before the baby is born, then I'll be huge and have this oddly small head because my thick hair balances me out.

David: Then leave it long.

Ruth: So, you're saying I should leave it long to cover up the fact I've inflated to gargantuan proportions?

David: That is not--

Ruth: What if I cut it like Jennifer Anniston did when she cut it short on Friends?

David: That's a cute cut. You've had it like that before and it looked great. You do what you want, though.

Ruth: So, you like it?

David: Yeah, it's really pretty.

Ruth: So, you think Jennifer Anniston is pretty?

David: Okay, that's just ridiculous. I said the haircut was pretty.

Ruth: So, you think she's ugly? Because she's prettier than me, so if you think Jennifer Anniston is ugly, then you must think I'm a troll.

David: RUTH! You are being crazy!!

Ruth: (sob sob sob) My husband thinks I'm crazy...

David: I don't even know what to say to you right now.

Ruth: Tell me how to cut my hair!!!!!!

David: YOUR HAIR LOOKS GREAT HOWEVER YOU DO IT!

Ruth: What if I just cut some bangs?

David: Want me to make you some brownies?

Ruth: OOOOOH BROWNIES!!

Big Catch Up!

Whew, you guys...this week. The girls are with David's parents this week and I was off on Monday, but I think I've been busier the past few days than I have been with the girls at home with me the entire month of March put together. But, a good busy...we've been very productive.

Last Saturday morning, we packed up...

and drove on south to stay the night with my parents. We had a wonderful visit with family. I always get a little homesick around Easter, so it was nice to be "home." Of course, I forgot my camera and only had my phone, but Dad took a bunch of good ones that I'll get from him later.

Then, we headed outside to hunt eggs. This is the girls' new favorite pastime. Oh my word, I never thought a kid could love hunting eggs so much.

Those bushes in front of them are sticky bushes. Guess who hid the eggs? Dad and David. Guess who put eggs in the sticky bushes? Dad and David. What...I mean, what?? Who does that? Sara hid them there for me when I was little, but that was different. Sisters are supposed to do that. Not Dads and Grandads. Sheesh.

Chubby elbows own me.

No, we didn't put any in the pool. Although...that's not a bad idea for next year......

We got all doozied up Sunday morning for church and went outside to take some pictures. Yeah, they weren't having any of it. This is the only one of them smiling and it's because we bounced them up in the air.

But Dad has some good ones he took after church.

Mmmmmm, honeysuckle.

Making sure Kangaroo is okay.

Sunday afternoon, we headed over to David's parents' house for a visit. The girls adore GranJan and Papa. And we got to visit with Laura Grace and baby Tinsley, too! The girls call her "Baby Tinley", so pretty close. They LOVE her. Harper especially. She just pats her so gently and wants to hold her all the time. It's hilarious and so sweet.

Then, David and I told the girls "bye bye", who promptly told us "Bye, Momma...bye, Daddy, " turned and went back to playing without a hint of sadness. Hurt a little, but so glad they're cool kids and aren't clingy. We headed home in the car, by ourselves, in the deafening silence. FREEDOM!!!!! Of course, when we got 5 minutes down the road, we talked about the girls the rest of the way home.

I miss them, but this week has been very very nice. I really needed it.

Monday was Sibling Appreciation Day. Don't worry, I didn't know about it either. Sara chatted me to let me know.

Yesterday morning, I had my 14-week check-up with Dr. Mac. No ultrasound this time. I was a little spoiled because I got an ultrasound at almost every appointment with the girls. I think I'll only have two more with this one. But, we got to hear the heartbeat, which was fun. This one's is a little slower than the girls, but I still think the girls' were fast because they were always all up in each other's space. Who knows. Dr. Mac said I'm measuring great and I can wait 5 weeks until my next appointment. We decided to find out the gender, so that'll be the big appointment! I've been taking weekly pictures like I did with the girls, but some of the weekly changes aren't super drastic and they're boring, so I'll just post the 4-week picture and the 14-week picture. Seriously, a picture taken in the morning versus a picture taken at night can differ as drastically as a 2 month pregnant woman and an 8 month pregnant woman. It's amazing how a glass of water can puff you up. What I'm saying is...the 14-week picture was taken in the morning, but by that night, I was about 3 inches further out.

4 Weeks

14 Weeks

Monday, I had the day off, so I painted. I haven't painted in AGES. I'm not great, but it's so therapeutic, especially when it's something you want to paint and you're doing it for yourself. The weather has been crazy beautiful all week long, so I sat out on the patio. No music, no phone. It was so nice.

I didn't have a canvas, so I got some leftover wood in the garage and covered it with newsprint paper and ModPodge. I got a match and burned some places on the paper just to give it some more texture.

I didn't have any white paint either...I know, right, not even craft paint...so I used some gesso primer leftover from college. I'm surprised it hadn't dried up. I use a palette knife instead of a brush.

Then, I used watercolor paints for the color.

Then, I used some charcoal and stubs to give it some depth.

David drilled two holes in the top and I put a ribbon through them for hanging it. It was nice to just do something normal for a few hours, you know. And then I went back inside and watched HGTV and did laundry. That night, I was feeling pretty good, so David and I went out to see Hunger Games. You guys...it was SO. GOOD. I cried and cried several times. An excellent tribute (no pun intended) to the book. I still recommend reading the book because they couldn't explain everything, but it was an incredible movie.

Tomorrow, I'm heading to the beach, so I'm pretty much in a super fabulous mood. And I'm hungry, so, y'all have a great weekend!

Good Friday

This week, and several weeks before, I've been a little grouchy. Okay, FINE, a lot grouchy. Geez, stop pointing it out. I have "soooo" many things to complain about wah wah wah (sarcasm).

Sure, I'm way past beyond "so over" selling the house. I'm so over spending 45% of my life this year cleaning the house and waiting for agents that never show and never bother calling to say they're not coming. We're trying to sell the house to move to a bigger house with more room. What is there to complain about, Ruthie Pooh? Not much. Is it frustrating sometimes? Yeah. Are there bigger things in life to concern myself with? Of course. Do I want the crappy agents to run through a construction site and puncture all the tires of their Mercedes SUVs? No........yes. Maybe. God's timing is perfect and He's got the right buyer out there for this house. We just have to wait and not be so whiney about it. And if we're still in this house when Baby #3 comes along, we'll make it work. I mean, one of the twins can sleep out on the patio, it'll be fine.

Sure, I don't feel good. But that's because God's chosen to bless us with another perfect life to care for. One of His children given to us here on Earth. Why did God give us three while so many very, very dear friends are waiting for one? I don't know. I know I'm completely undeserving. I know I whine about being "sick" far too much and it makes me the biggest jerkwad on the planet. It's a privilege and I want to honor this gift He's given us...through the chucking up and the tossing and turning and Pangea effect I've got going on. Through all of it, Christ can be glorified and I haven't done a great job of that lately. I cannot wait to meet this little lime (that's how big he/she is right now.) I am SO excited! I'm very excited about the singular aspects of this baby. I can't wait for him/her to meet his/her (that's gonna get old) big sisters.

Sure, I get a little worn out physically, emotionally, and mentally by my two, very energetic rascal babies. They're little chatter boxes, fo sho. And I think they run on solar power because they never seem tired and they're outside all the time, so it's the only thing that makes sense. But they make me laugh so hard every single day. They have the biggest stories to tell me. They're healthy. They're so smart (I know I'm a little biased). They love each other so much, even when they're pulling each other's hair out. They freely give hugs and kisses. They smile non-stop. They are ALWAYS smiling. They're the biggest goons and little hams I've ever met. And they're mine and David's. Every now and then, we'll be winding down for the day and turn off the living room lights and David will read them a story...the girls cuddled up on each side of him, hanging on his every word. And I'll look at my three favorite people and think, "Holy crap, we have kids." And then I'll go back further and think of my 16 year old self and David's 17 year old self and the first time he asked me to eat lunch with him at summer camp. I knew I was gonna marry him...I just never imagined it'd be this good. Who would've thunk we would have had twins. Twins with the bluest of eyes and their Daddy's curly hair...one with my personality (poor kid), one with David's.

Sure, I huff and puff when I realize SOMEbody (Iwon'tnameanynamesdavid) switched the fridge to crushed ice instead of cubed ice and then I take a sip of water and the little crushed chunks get all up in my bidness. Of all the things in all the world to get all up in a tizzy about...I choose the ice situation. David is so wonderful. On days when I'm just barely running on fumes when he gets home, he sets his briefcase down, pulls out his wallet, takes off his watch and grabs the girls and heads outside. And he takes care of everything the rest of the night. He feeds them, he bathes them, he brushes their teeth. I'll take a nap or do housework or just sit in the quiet for a minute. I know I have it good. He is the perfect partner. I couldn't imagine life without my soulmate...crushed ice and all.

None of those things...those really GOOD things...would be anything if it weren't for the sacrifice made on that Friday so many years ago. I'm excited about the Easter bunny and the hunting (of the eggs, not the bunny) and the Cadbury everything. I'm excited to share all of that with our kids. The Easter bunny bought way too much for the twins this year. Actually, the Easter bunny is regretting all that the Easter bunny got because the Easter bunny realizes it's gonna cause some issues...i.e. sidewalk chalk, crayons, stickers, etc.

But, Easter is more than that. You know the story. But, it's almost too unfathomable, if that makes sense. I think we skip over the hard part of the story sometimes because it's "too much." Sure, we like the third day aspect. It's neat and clean and shiny and well, without it...there's no Easter. But, the first part of the story...the part that happened on Good Friday...without that, there's no Easter, either. And it's pretty much impossible for me to understand what He went through. For me. For you. My Dad did a medical explanation of all the physical things Christ experienced that day in a church several years ago. A lady passed out. A few people had to leave. He wasn't being gross...it was just the truth. It's a hard truth to hear. It was a gift. A gift given out of the biggest, most intimate love. A gift none of us deserves. But, it's totally free. As you know, I am not an eloquent individual. I say things like "upchuck" and "gyah" and "like" way too much. This B.C. cartoon was on the Facebook page of the guy who played bagpipes at our wedding and I thought it summed it up pretty perfectly for today. I probably should have just shown the cartoon.

It's a Good Friday indeed. Happy Easter, everybody!

12 Weeks

Sorry I've been the lamest blogger ever lately. This baby has wreaked havoc on my everything. I've reached the 12 week mark, which is awesome, but it's also supposed to be when the 1st trimester symptoms start subsiding. With the girls, I knew the day of 12 weeks, I'd wake up and the symptoms would all be gone. Yeah, that didn't happen. It took until 18 weeks. But, I did have Zofran and he helped a lot. This time, I knew not to get my hopes up, but I still did...so, on Saturday, I thought, "TODAY'S THE DAY! I'm gonna feel stupendous!" But, that didn't happen either.

I called Dr. Mac on Monday because he said if I didn't feel better by then to let him know. They said the only other thing besides Zofran that I could take was Phenergan. I love P-gan, but it wipes me out. I mean, you could shave my head and put me on an inflatable bed in the middle of a lake and I'd never wake up. Hmmm...might not should have told you that. They doubled my dose of Zofran and you know what, it worked...for a day. Tuesday, I was feeling pretty fine. I even stayed up until 8:30 p.m. But then yesterday, it was worse than before. It might have been because I mowed the back yard, but I dunno. I threw up again. Those chips and guacamole...nevermind. Nothing worse than throwing up in a toilet and having it splash back up in your face. (That was for you, Mom.) Y'all should know by now that I have no sense of decorum. Don't even act like it surprises you.

The twins have been nothing but perfection, as they always are. They take great naps. They say "please" and "thank you". They're good eaters. They love, love, love to play outside. They just...well, they never stop talking. So, if you ask me a question and my eyes look kind of glazed over, it's because I have reached my quota of word intake for the day. And they're the sweetest conversationalists, they just repeat everything.

"Momma."

"Yes, sweetie."

"Momma. Momma. Momma. MOMMA. MOMMA. Mommamommammommamamoamoa."

"Yes. Harper. What is it?"

"Baby fish."

"Aw, yes, you have a baby fish."

"Baby blue fish. Blue fish. Momma fish. Aw, baby fish."

"Yes, the baby fish has a Momma fish."

"Aw, baby fish cry. Momma fish, 'Okay, baby. Bottle?' Aw, baby fish fall down, kay? Momma fish baby fish Momma Momma Momma MOMMA!"

"Yes, the Momma fish is a good Momma."

"Baby fish blue fish Momma fish Daddy fish. Oh no, Daddy fish gone work. Car, bye bye!"

"Yep."

They've never once said the word "mine." It's always "back."

"Mommaaaaaa!! Back! Back! Sissy back! Sissy yellow car back!"

And I know that the other one took this one's yellow car and she wants it back. And Harper has discovered that Piper Lee is scared of "monters" and she'll chase PL around and roar at her until PL gives up whatever toy she has. And the sound and screaming and "back back back" carries so well through the house. So, right now, I have in earplugs listening to the Hunger Games soundtrack. Pipes has a toy carton of milk that Harper wants, but they can work it out. They're good problem solvers. Also, if you have twins, buy two of everything. It solves so many problems.

Sincerely,

Cranky Pants Magoo

Afternoon popsicles for some red-cheeked little ladies.

Bat Crazy

David planned our 1-year anniversary trip, so it was my turn to plan our 2-year one. Makes sense. I booked us an adorable one bedroom cabin in the Smokies that had a loft area upstairs with ping pong and pool tables. David loves ping pong and pool, so I knew it'd be a hit. And I know I don't look like it, but I'm actually pretty amazing at both. David didn't know that when he met me and he thought he was going to "teach me" how to play. You can't teach a master.

Just a little side story...(you know I love those). For our 4-year anniversary, we went on a cruise to French Polynesia/New Zealand. We're in this AMAZING location and what does David want to do? He wants to enter the ping pong tournament. I wanted to sit on the balcony and watch the dolphins play in the water below, but he wanted someone there to cheer him on. And I should have known better. Every cruise we ever go on he enters the tournament. And he always wins. He even beats the guys that bring their own paddle and gloves. Seriously. There are people who do that. I don't ever play in the tournaments. I just "practice" with David to help him "warm up." Truth is, I go easy on him so he won't feel bad about losing to a girl. This particular tournament lasted the whole length of the cruise. It was one of those bracket things and every day at 6:00 p.m., another 4 players would be eliminated. Finally, toward the end of the trip, only 2 players remained. David and a French gentleman. Hearing him smack talk in his thick accent was one of the greatest things I've ever witnessed. He was one of the ones that brought his own paddles. The day of the championship game arrived. It was 6:02 p.m. and the Frenchman never came. The game mediator, an Australian employee of the ship who couldn't have been more than 10 years old, said, "Well, someone has to be a winner and we can't have a winner without the final game." The Australian called the guy's room because he had his name, but no answer. He chickened out. Then, he mediator looked at me and said, "Do you want to play him for the championship?" David laughed and said, "Oh yeah, Ruth...come play me." I waved my hand and said, "We'll just call it a tie between you and Monsieur No Show." The Australian wouldn't have it. "NO! There must be a winner!" I gave in, I was getting hungry and didn't want to miss our dinner time. "Fine. Give me a paddle. I'll play with my left hand." Well, you can probably guess who won. I have a gold medal and Tahitian Princess cup cozy to prove it. I was the ultimate ping pong champion of the South Pacific. BOOM. Next.

SO...back to the Smokies. David flipped when I showed him the loft. One night, after a long day of hiking, we headed upstairs to play some strip pool. Yes, you read that right. Thankfully, we were only a few minutes in when I stepped back and felt my bare left foot (ooh, saucy) brush something. I looked down and, puzzled, couldn't quite make out the form in the shadows of the loft. I squatted down to get a closer look. Oh, holy cow, that's a bat. I did a little freak-out dance, dropped my pool stick and squealed, my voice reaching decibels unheard by humans. I vaulted down the stairs and never went back up the entire rest of the trip. David determined it was dead, but still. I felt like breathing the air would give me rabies. I love all of God's creatures, but I don't have to touch all of them. Bats, lizards, possums...I would rather sit in a bathtub of snakes than touch a possum. Those are the UGLIEST critters I've ever seen. And they hiss. They're basically miniature R.O.U.S.'s and there's no use for them. Anyways. David called the housekeeping service, who thought we were saying we had been bitten, but he assured them the bat was already dead and no bites were exchanged.

An hour or so later, we were downstairs watching TV and I noticed some shadows fluttering across the wall. I thought it was my eyes being weird while watching TV, but it kept doing it. So, I focused on the wall. The flutters were still there. "Do ghosts make shadows?" I queried. David just looked at me with one eyebrow raised. I hear squeak squeak squeak flap flap flap and look up. Bat. "IT'S ALIVE!!!!!" I grab the blanket off the back of the couch and cover myself, leaving David to fend for himself. I could not move. I kept asking, "Is it on me?! Is it on me?! I feel like it's on me!" David responded, "Ruth, it's way up in the ceiling, trying to get out through the skylights." And then I felt sorry for it. "Aw...he's just trying to go home. Let's help him. And by 'let's', I mean you." He said I had to help him. I said, "Maybe if we leave him alone, he'll just die again." Then David brought up a very horrible thought, "If we don't get him out, you're going to have to go to bed tonight knowing he's loose in the house." That was not going to work for me.

Have you ever seen Black Sheep with David Spade and Chris Farley? The scene with the bat in the cabin? That's pretty much exactly what happened. We found a broom. David went up to the loft and shooed him down lower. Then he ran back downstairs, helped me grab the other end of the blanket and we corralled him toward the open door. It actually only took about 10 minutes to get him out...10 straight minutes of me screaming, but we did it. He came back to life and we helped him return home.

I wanted to go play ping pong now that the loft area wasn't infested and we headed back upstairs. DEAD BAT STILL ON THE FLOOR! Then, I felt really bad because I thought maybe they were together and he didn't want to leave his lady bat friend. (I'm just assuming the girl was the dead one because, let's be honest, girls aren't as good in survival extremes as guys are. Well, ha, tell that to Katniss Everdeen). But, I fo sho wasn't gonna touch it.

The next day we went hiking and when we returned, Bat Lady was gone. I wonder about her buddy sometimes...if he misses her still. Well, kids, that's what happens when you sneak through the roof into someone else's house. One of you dies.

Life with Red Ruth: Pangea

Being "self-conscious" doesn't begin to scratch the surface of the range of emotions you go through as your body is being transformed from something "normal" to something unearthly for 40 weeks. I didn't have the pregnancy glow with the girls and I FO SHO don't have it now. Celebrities can pay for that glow and I do believe there are a lucky few that get it and I hate them. For the rest of us, we spend our days looking in the mirror at everything changing, hoping this or that stays tucked in or tucked up for just a little while longer.

While it's all definitely worth it, no doubt, I think it's frustrating me this time more than with the girls because it's happening WAY faster. Dr. Mac said that would be the case. Your body prepares earlier on because it's like, "Oh, hey, here we go again."

David has been nothing but wonderful through my whining and questioning. "Is my back fat getting bigger? Is my nose huge? Does my butt jiggle more than normal? Do I have sausage fingers?"

He is so sweet, says I'm being ridiculous, and tells me how beautiful I am. I tell him of course he has to say that, but he insists he's telling the truth. He's a good man. The other day was a rough day for me and I was feeling down in the dumps...mainly because I looked like a dump. He came along to encourage me.

The real conversation went like this...

Ruth: Ugh.

David: What is it?

Ruth: I'm too tired and sick to exercise. I don't feel like myself and I don't look like myself. And I feel like everything is moving around.

David: Moving around?

Ruth: Like, body parts.

David: You are insane. You look the exact same as you did before you got pregnant. You felt like this with the girls, too. You'll be back to yourself in no time.

Ruth: I know, I know. Well, just call me Pangea until then. (pout)

But, in my head and in my rage-induced world, the conversation went more like this...