Why Dogs Love Their Owners.

I a firm believer that yes, dogs CAN feel embarrasment. I am also a firm believer that dressing them up in AWESOME Halloween costumes is not a source of this embarrasment.

Dogs love Halloween and they love to be dressed up in costumes.

I am not allowed into Petco during the holidays anymore because I will buy any dog costume they sell in an XXL. The options are usually limited, but this has not stopped me from accumulating a rather large collection of costumes for my mutts.

They love it. They love posing for the camera. They love the attention they get when they wear them. (I will agree and say that they do not love the hats and things on their ears...but eh, I don't like hats either, and sometimes, they are just necessary. Suck it up Puppy.)

Pee, Pee and More Pee

Truthfully, other than my totally irrational (yet common) fears that something tragic will happen to my unborn child, the thing I think about most is when I will get to pee again. I am constantly in need of a place to pee.

I can tell you the exact distance (in either feet or minutes) it will take you to reach a bathroom at any given location in the great Houston metroplex. I can probably give you most of the stops on the way to Dallas and the DFW area as well, but don't test me.

I don't know how something so small has the ability to shrink my bladder so significantly but then I start thinking about what will happen when Cletus actually starts to reach full term...I'm totally screwed. I'm gonna buy stock in She-Wee. Maybe I can be their spokesperson!

I ran the Houston Half Marathon yesterday...although my name is not in the results . It's probably better this way...that way there is no proof of my slow time. Ha.

The weather was perfect racing weather for me - kind of warmish (about 80 for you northerners) and humid as hell. Everyone else seemed to be in a tizzy about it, but I heart the humidity. I'm pretty sure Cletus is gonna have gills. Part man, part fish! Almost like a mermaid, but not.

Nonetheless, I had a great race...not because I raced well, because, let's be honest, racing well when you are pregnant isn't all that smart of an idea...but I had a great race because it was great day. And frankly, all in all, I had a good run. I enjoyed my day thoroughly.

HOWEVER.

There's always a "however".

Before the race started - after the prayer, but before the Star Spangled Banner - I had to pee. Again. But I didn't want to wander too far from the start...so I just found a post and went behind that. I told the other guy standing there just to avoid eye contact and we would never talk about this again. Nevermind the 3,000 runners who just got up close and personal with my pasty rear, but as long as you avoid eye contact, they can't tag you on Facebook. GENIUS!

I was feeling pretty good, running with my pal Laura. We were both taking it easy - she is running New York in 2 weeks and I am pregnant (no way!?!) so we were just enjoying the day. I found a bush to pee behind around mile 2...and again around mile 3.5...and thus a trend was born. Laura bailed on me around mile 5 (she wasn't feeling so hot) and I was on my own...peeing on the side of the road of a race is way better when you have a buddy, btw.

I peed 7 times during the half marathon. 7 times. That's more than every 2 miles. No wonder my time was 2 hours and 20 minutes even though I felt like I was running a decent pace. Ha. And I had to refill the water bottle I was carrying at every other water station...

Over the course the race, I peed 7 times (7 times!), drank 3-16 ounce bottles of water, a FULL cup of Gatorade every 2 miles and 4 Clif-Blocs. I'm pretty sure this sets a world record of consumption at the half marathon level. I should have gotten an award.

All in all, I had a great race. Going slow wasn't easy, especially at the end when I felt like a rockstar and could have run 8 minute miles on the last few miles, but I know it was the right thing to do. And ultimately, I acheived my goal of finishing in time to get a shirt in my size (this race is notorious of running out of appropriate sizes). I got my shirt (even though it's ugly as sin), enjoyed my morning and felt like I challenged myself a little...and celebrated with crepes. There is little else more enjoyable than eating a delicious reward after a good race.

I love racing. And I love Cletus. Finding the balance is hard. Especially when I have to pee every 15 minutes.

My Name Is Christy And I Have A Problem.

You know those weird things you do when you hope no else is looking? Like, reenacting a conversation with someone out loud? Or picking your nose in the car? Or licking the mayonnaise jar? Or unbuttoning your pants before you are all the way in the bathroom stall? Yeah, those things. Those things are weird and socially unacceptable...but everyone does them. (I'd like to point out that mayonnaise is absolutely and complete repulsive and I neither own a jar of mayonnaise nor have I ever eaten mayonnaise just, but you get the idea).

Well, I have a problem.

Before I got pregnant, it wasn't really a problem...it was more of a feature. But now, it's kind of an issue.

I can pee anywhere.

No seriously. I can pee anywhere. I have no problems with dropping trou in broad daylight on the side of the road. I can pee in lakes. I can pee my pants during a run (if necessary to achieve a PR). I can pee my pants during a run if its pouring down rain because, hey, that's just efficient. I have never tried to pee in (or out of) a moving vehicle, but I am certain that should this necessity ever arise, I will rise to the occasion.

The only place I can't pee is while cycling. This is surprisingly kind of an issue when you have the smallest bladder on the planet and your ride partners don't want to stop every 10 miles.

Alas, this life skill has never let me down. The world is my urinal and I am thankful. Thus far in my pregnancy, this skill has been a bonus, because as we all know, pregnancy is a mean, mean trick that life plays on your bladder and you are constantly thirsty and constantly have to pee. On runs I can just run my normal routes and hope that I dn't get arrested when I pee in the yards of the politicians who live in River Oaks...it's a feature. No need to wait for the port-a-cans the homeless people stink up at the park. The world is out there and needs to be watered!

This feature has never let me down...until yesterday.

Yesterday I was running errands after work when, lo and behold, I had to pee (for the 97 thousandth time that day). As I walked between Michaels and REI, I crossed over a nice patch of grass with some shrubberies and I thought to myself, "Oh, I could just pee here". No, I really considered just peeing in the parking lot of the store.

WTF?

It's 6PM. It's light outside. I'm at a strip mall. It's a small shrubbery. It's illegal, inappropriate and THERE ARE BATHROOMS IN THE FRIGGIN STORE! (The bathrooms are probably in the back or the store and not nearly as convenient as this shrubbery, but seriously? Seriously?!)

Yeah, that was one of those stupid things you hope no one ever sees you do (or think). I was mortified that it even crossed my mind. Apparently I have been too free with my peeing experiences. My bladder is starting to forget what is appropriate and what is not. I think my bladder may need to be held back.

For the record, I did not pee in the parking lot. Nor did I pee in the store. I was too embarrassed. I got my new BOB Ironman Stroller from REI and ran out of there! First baby purchase = COMPLETE!

It's Ugly. It's REAL Ugly.

I am now 15 weeks pregnant (that's just over 3 months for those of you who don't count in weeks). I thought for sure by now I would have gotten these bigger hooters that everyone talks about, but alas, they are the same sad sacks they have always been. It's tragic really.

I also spent most of Tuesday lamenting my lack of baby bump. I bought a halloween costume a couple of months ago, that I thought would accomodate my growing waistline (I was going as Spock. Ha.), so that even if I just looked fat, I wouldn't be uncomfortable in it. But i've always wanted to be a Slutty German Barmaid. I've never been anything slutty for Halloween before and darn it, I WILL be a barmaid. Someday.

So, on Tuesday, after mucho lamenting, I packed up Tommy and we headed to Frankel's (Houston's best Halloween costume emporium) to get my Slutty German Barmaid costume. While there is still a chance I could get a belly between now and next weekend, there was a bigger chance that Frankel's would run out of the costume...and this was a risk I was not willing to take. So, a Slutty German Barmaid costume I know possess.

Alas, I got it home, once again, after much lamenting about my lack of belly, put it on and lo and behold, I have a belly. I wouldn't call it a Baby Bump per se, but I definitely have a FUPA where I did not have a FUPA before.

Slutty German Barmaids should not have FUPAs. Unless by some stroke of baby love, my FUPA disappears and is replaced by an actual baby bump, I will be singing Crocodile Rock dressed as Spock.

He can hit a mean falseto.

I Can't Resist

A dog video for your entertainment. The tortoise always wins. Stupid mutt.

How Do I Love Thee?

I love the Ironman. I LOVE the Ironman. Ironman is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Beer is also this proof, but I am a wine girl, so eh, I'll stick with Ironman.

I know it's a for-profit corporation that gets free manual labor on race day and exploits the little guy, yada yada yada...it's like Wal-mart, except that unlike Wal-mart, I will allow you to participate.

I could never quite put into words why I preferred the Ironman branded races over other "iron-distances" races, but having attended Redman full iron distance race, I can safely say that the extra $400 is $400 well spent. Dude, just fork over the dough, get your Ironman branded gear and call it day. Call yourself an Ironman.



Kona was last weekend, my Superbowl, and I spent my evening, on my couch, watching the live feed, and crying as people crossed the finish line. Maybe its the pregnancy hormones. Maybe it's because I always cry when I talk about triathlon...I just love it!

I am super sad to be missing out on IMTexas in May...but Cletus and I will be there to cheer on Papa Blain (who I hope has as much fun as I had in Cozumel!) I'd like to point out that the only purchase we have made thus far for our growing child is the Ironman BOB Stroller. Yeah, it's a problem. I could care less about Gucci and Louis Vuitton, but brand it with an M-dot and I'll pay a fortune for it. Ridiculous.

We will be in Cozumel to cheer on all our friends this year at the race and I can only imagine the jealousy I will have for all of them. I'm green just thinking about it!

I'm not going to do the indoor triathlon this weekend...I'm just gonna suck it up and do the half marathon that Tommy is doing. It will be more fun anyway since everyone I know is doing it. Poor Tommy will finish in about 1:30...and then I will finish sometime before noon. Haha. He will have plenty of time to go get me some lunch before I finish. I miss my speed!!

Pottery Barn.

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but Pottery Barn threw up in my house. It's like that Friends episode where Rachel and Phoebe live together and Rachel decorates the entire house in Pottery Barn stuff, but has to lie to Phoebe - "oh, this is an antique apothecary table...not at all from Pottery Barn".

Yeah, Pottery Barn threw up in my house.

It's not that I am super into trendy stuff or actually decorate like the PB catalog suggests (although, I would if I could afford it slash had someone to dust all that crap), but it's more that the furniture is just my style. I like clean lines with a bit of whimsy. Basically, Pottery Barn is my furniture haven.

BTW - If you aren't currently reading this blog, you should be.

If I had the patience slash time, I would spend my Saturdays shopping all over town to find cool pieces to make my bedroom set...OR I could just go online and buy some PB stuff and spend the rest of my day lounging like the vegetable I desire to be. New furniture is just a click away!!

We have been meaning to buy new bedroom furniture for about 4 years. The stuff we are currently using is the hideous stuff that Tommy's ex-wife picked out. Not only is it the furniture that the ex-wife picked out (although, this bothers me not at all, it's a good excuse to convince Tommy that we NEED new furniture), but it's ugly and poorly made...and we have moved it approximately 14 times in 4 years. Crappy furniture just can't take that kind of abuse. So it's awful and in awful condition.

Alas, I have finally decided to bite the bullet and just buy the stupid Pottery Barn furniture I have loved for 4 years. I kept waiting for something better to come along so my house wouldn't be all Pottery Barn-ed out (I just don't respect myself!), but in 4 years, I still NEED that bed. It's gonna happen.

In other news, we will FINALLY be able to ditch our current crap...we broke the bed a few years ago (brown chicken brown cow!), but the ugly dressers are up for grabs. We will probably just leave them on the the curb...not sure anyone would buy them.

Phoebe, don't hate me. You know you love it. Darn you Pottery Barn and your overpriced crap!

Pregnancy Glow

I don't have it. I don't know anyone who has had it (sorry friends - I lied to your faces). I know it's still early for me to get it, but really, with all this acne, I just dont see how it would be possible anyway.

I'm a firm believer that the Pregnancy Glow is just a way to make formerly thin people feel better about themselves. It's like when you tell a bride it's good luck if it rains on her wedding day. It's not good luck. It just makes them feel better when it rains on their wedding day. Nevermind that the entire outdoor ceremony is ruined. Hey, it's good luck!

The sheer number of zits I have have to pop each day would challenge a teenagers counting skills. And if I do appear to be glowing, it's because I am as sweaty as a a marathoner...and while a marathoner may APPEAR to be glowing, trust me, they aren't. They are starving. Their cheeks are flushed from sheer starvation and dehydration. I'm sweaty and a flight of stairs is daunting.

I'm not glowing. And it's not good luck if it rains on your wedding day.

And if you say it one more time, I will shoot my next zit into your eye.

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In other news, I found a triathlon that I can race! It's indoor, which is super lame, but that also means that I can do it, so that's super not lame!

Kona is this weekend which means I will be glued to my computer screen for most of the day watching the live feed.

I heard Cletus's heartbeat yesterday afternoon - 164bpm. Tommy heard it a few weeks ago, but the deaf often get delayed gratification. Alas, it has a heart and it beats. Very fastly. Yayy!!

Cat's Out of the Bag

Now that the cat is FINALLY out of the bag, I can gossip about all the joys and un-joys of being pregnant.

But let's be honest, the joys aren't all that funny, and people's happiness is generally sickening and irritating, so for now let's focus on the horror that is baby bedding.

We don't yet know the gender of our future child, but we do plan on finding out as soon as possible. Yes, I know it's one of life's great surprises, blah blah blah, but really, it's still a surprise when they tell you during the ultrasound. So even if you find out BEFORE that bundle of pooping joy is in your arms, it's STILL a surprise. Take that naysayers!

And since I don't tolerate surprises well anyway, it's better that I find out after a full nights sleep and without holding any precious cargo.

We will find out as soon as a weiner or lack thereof is visible. I'm pretty sure the 50% accuracy of the Chinese Gender Prediction chart has guessed me right anyway, so it's a moo point. A cow's opinion.

Regardless of Cletus's gender, I will likely go the neutral bedding/decor route, so I have been scouring the internet in search of baby bedding that doesn't make me want to hurl. And unfortunately, this is few and far between. Pair this search with morning sickness and I have spent a lot of time praying to the porcelain god.

In my search, I found a lot of this:

Even more of this:

And thank the good Lord, I saw very little of this:


The search continues, despite the efforts of Winnie the Pooh and Pastel Paint. I will overcome you!!