OSCAR

Yes, Oscar. As in, Oscar the Grouch. Any guesses as to whom this reference is being directed?

Beep, time's up- it's me.

Because I am the author of this blog, it is up to my sole discretion as to what content is placed upon this cyber journal. So, with all poetic license, I am using this as a means to VENT. (May I please remind any individuals who choose to engage in further reading of this blog to keep in mind that I am currently a 35-week pregnant woman who is experiencing a rapid decline in brain functioning).

Eh hem. Here goes:

I'M HOT. Yes, I am very hot. Don't get me wrong, I am all about summer and nice days and sunshine. I just happen to have an internal heater that keeps me at least 10-15 degrees hotter than the average American. I am baffled when my girls snuggle up in their blankies during the day and say, "I'm cold mom." At night my husband will crawl into bed next to me and completely engulf himself in the covers and make a little shiver noise, as if he is actually cold. As I lay there dreaming of a large glass of ice water (which, if I consume, will wreak pure havoc on my sleep with countless trips to the bathroom), my husband reverts back to his days as a young deacon lying in a snow cave at 20 below. So, my family endures the swamp cooler being left on part of the night until I decide to have some sympathy somewhere around 2 in the morning and shut 'er down. By then, of course, it feels just right.

While I'm on the topic of weather, I will just keep on grouching. WIND I do no like you. Not one bit. In fact, I down right despise you. If any out there ever choose to live in southern Utah, be prepared for wind. LOTS of wind. The spring is pretty much, well, windy. Don't do your hair- it will be ruined within 2.6 seconds of leaving the house. Don't let your children play outside- you may have to go search and find them wrapped in the neighbor's fence across the street. Hold on very tight to your mail- one slip and it's gone forever. Don't leave anything unchained outside- you may very well never see it again. Did I mention I don't like wind?

I HURT. Yes, I hurt. My lower back and the sciatic nerves in my caboose declare mutiny when I move. Perhaps the nerves in my derriere have entangled themselves in the umbilical cord and therefore make it so I walk as though I am an 80-year-old woman in need of a hip replacement. Not to mention my rib cage is quickly being taken over by an expanding uterus, and has no other place to go. Maybe I'll rent a walker for the next few weeks. Get me a cane. Maybe I'll just rent a room at the local senior center. I would fit right in.

I'M DUMB. No really, I keep making mistakes that are absolutely ridiculous and are driving me nutso. I LOST MY HUSBAND'S SHOES. I feel rotten. Horrible. Here's the story: Jacob had to be in South Jordan for work Wednesday, so the girls and I traveled up with him Tuesday night so we could spend the day with my sister on Wednesday while Jacob had meetings. Well, as the girls and I were loading our stuff in the truck upon leaving the hotel Wednesday morning, I set Jacob's shoes down somewhere. I can't remember where I put the blasted things. Down on the pavement? Up on the side rail to the bed of the truck? All I know is I had them at one point while loading the truck. That is what drives me absolutely nuts- I do the dumbest things and forget everything. As I was heading down the interstate about 4 minutes after departure, I suddenly had the thought that I couldn't remember loading the shoes. I exited the interstate as soon as I could, and sure enough my search concluded that I in fact didn't have the shoes. Ah crap. So I hurry back to the hotel, certain that I would find them sitting on the pavement where I left them since I had only been gone no longer than 10 minutes. Well, no such luck. I ran into the front desk of the hotel, but no one had turned them in. I went back to the truck and slouched in the seat so sad that I really couldn't find those rotten shoes. Jacob loved those shoes. Those suckers weren't cheap either. Did someone steal them in that short time? Then I had the thought that maybe, in all stupidity, I left them on the side of the truck and then drove off with them trying their best to hold on for dear life. I searched all over the side of the road as I drove away, but never did see any sign of them. So I guess I will never know exactly what happened to the shoes. Now let me just interject something here. I made this similar blunder about a month ago. I left my wallet and a key on top of the car and drove off. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? DUH! I was so positive I had left them in the car, so when I couldn't find them anywhere I was certain someone had gotten in the car and stolen it. Well, I got home to find a little note from a police officer letting me know some kind soul had found my wallet on the road and turned it in and to come pick it up. Nice. MY WALLET! Come on Britt! I was SO incredibly grateful for an honest Abe who turned it right in. I was so relieved. But really, that was dumb. So to think that I did that AGAIN with Jacob's shoes was enough to just really tick me off. But the story doesn't end there. Oh no. I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out the best way to break the news to my husband that I had a repeated offense of severe brain malfunction and lost his shoes. I decided I was going to wait for the perfect, prime time. Wait until he was in a really good mood. Well, thanks to my 4-year old, just as we were pulling into home from our trip up north, she out of nowhere spilled the beans that mom lost dad's shoes at the hotel. Thanks Kenna. NOT the perfect, prime time I was hoping for. AAAH! GRRR! @#$@%!!

So there. I vented. Grr. If you really made it this far, you are probably sick of reading the rantings of a hormonal pregnant woman. If you are my husband, you've already put up with it for nearly 9 months now and I really really love you. I am so so sorry I lost your shoes. I feel like a dirtball and I am so angry about the whole thing.

Against my carnal grouchy wishes, I really need to end with a positive. My cooler works great. Today the wind isn't blowing like a hurricane- yet. My debit card remains safe inside my wallet which I still have in my possession. At least I left the shoes and remembered my children. Basically, I have way too many good things to focus on. Sometimes Oscar just needs to get out of his can for a bit. Maybe he'll go back in now.