Dead things, soapy things, and squirmy things.

I found a tiny dead frog in my bathroom this morning. It wasn't there when I got up to get Barry off to work at 4:30. I find it slightly more disturbing than seeing the occasional rouge cockroach out of the corner of my eye, because the mystery of this dead frog raises so many questions for me;

1.) Where was it hiding out when it was alive, and why did I never see it alive?

2.) What was it's cause of death? (and where might that be hiding out?)

3.) When should I be expecting a rain of locus?

In other news, I finally bathed the children last night. I realize that this is a regular if not daily occurrence for most mothers, but not any that I'm friends with. It's hard enough trying to wash dishes with a volleyball under your shirt, and the dishes don't try to get away. So once in a while when I'm feeling ambitious/crazy I announce to the house hold that whomever finishes their supper can get in the washa-tub later. Yes, it's become a special treat. Don't judge me.

I tried to get the shampoo all sudsy for a photo-op but it's not that noticeable.

I still was able to get the silliness of horns and swirlys, which is after all the whole point. After this everyone (read Gregory) started standing up, there by making pictures seem inappropriate.


And still in other news. I'm having a baby.

I went for my sonogram at the clinic the other day. Barry came to keep an eye on the children. I think he was just trying to sneak a peek at my fetus' junk-a-talia. But the kids got really restless and I kicked them all out half way through so no one was in the room with me when the tech looked at "that area". I turned away.

Barry made frantic gestures behind my back at the sonogram tech later, and he seems to think he knows the sex of the baby. But I'm still determined to be surprised. Even if it means I have to pick out two names, which is freakin' impossible. It doesn't help that the only suggestion my husband has is Johnny Walter for a boy or a girl. Yeah.... that's what I'm working with. So any suggestions would be wonderful at this point. Just leave them in your comments.

Lastly this is just funny. My Dr. wrote me a script for bi-weekly foot massages, because I told him I was getting foot cramps (another reason I avoid kneeling on the bathroom floor for a half hour every night, and then there's the frogs of course...)

Nice guy, I liked him up until the point where he told me I would have to wait till I was in labor to go to the hospital and get my C section.

FAT CHANCE.

So now I have to take my newly instated Medicaid and find some other, less funny, but hopefully more reasonable Dr. who is willing to make me an appointment for baby removal.

I don't need to be having contractions while someone is trying to jam a needle into my spine, been there done that, the needle broke off in me. I'm all set.