Week 24: The Shocker (a novel)

This week's post is a tribute to CORN. Not the corn you might think of but this little Corn Nugget below, who's origins date back to when Baby Core(n) was just a distant dream.

Love that little kernel. The baby is the length of an ear of corn this week and has gained 4 oz. since last week.

thegrozas.com

The brain is growing, the body is lean but filling out and taste buds keep developing. I swear I have some weird premonition about these foods. Last week for dinner one night, I ate 3 ears of corn. Yes, three. Nothing else, just corn. I guess its the Nebraska in me. I'm still waiting for the little roadside produce stands to pop up so I can buy the real deal but Hy-Vee sufficed last week. Preggo + grocery store + starving = corn dinner. Chalk it up as a weird pregnancy craving.

My corn inspiration today has my mind racing because,

foodbeast.com

Corn is in everything. I could talk about how good it tastes, how good it pops, the amusement it provides on the way out (Sorry, I have brothers- poop jokes are funny), how it's my best friend's nickname, how I want to eat corn fritters, how Surfside is flooding and I probably won't fulfill this need this summer, how this guy on Oddities snorted a corn kernel through his nostril and shot it out of his tear duct (I watched it yesterday so its on my mind), the list goes on and on. And I haven't even mentioned the Cornhuskers! Who new corn could be so fun? Lucky for you, I'm wrapping up corn speak there and moving onto what I've been dealing with the past week.

Matt left Saturday for his Air Guard, mandatory 2-week, pain-in-the-butt-for-his-wife-who-doesn't-know-how-to-mow, sad-times-for-his-dogs-who-are-stuck-in-their-kennels-all-day, drill requirement. He gets back the 26th and from my baby readings, I might be a house by then. 4oz in the past week alone for baby means I could be significantly larger after 16 days. Apparently my uterus is the size of a soccer ball so at least I can use that as an excuse. My days without him have been.... interesting so far.

Saturday: Matt left at like 4am. Peace out, I'm too tired to get up. I wish the shower wasn't so loud. Turn off the hall light. Finally, peace and quiet. I woke up 6 hours later and it hit me. Crap, he's gone. I need to make a paper chain. I went to the grocery store, Hobby Lobby, caught up on some DVR and decided to sit outside and read to catch some rays on this skin that hasn't seen sunlight since October. The Help is a good book. A few hours later, my legs were fried to a color I have never seen on my olive complexion before. So was my chest. My neck, protected by the shadow of my face, looked jaundiced next to my hot pink hue and I was officially a zebra from the profile. I went inside and cleaned the house pretty darn well if I do say so myself and my parents, brother, aunt, uncle and cousin come over to grill and hang out. What a productive little Saturday. Plus, Wally got some much needed attention since Matt will be gone for so long (Gus has no issues with attention when I'm around. I do my best with Walt).

Katy was productive, cleaned, and painfully fried herself.

Sunday: My Mom had offered a number of times to help us do yard work and she called to let me know she would be over to work in a little bit. She got to trimming without even letting me know she was there (I felt guilty sitting inside in A/C while she worked) and eventually, I went out to help work. 3 hours later, we weren't even done with the front yard. That little sunburn I mentioned? My legs throbbed. Every time I stood up, I could feel the blood rush to my legs and burn. The yard is looking much better and I only had one girly grossed out moment. While pulling out some dead lilies, I saw a poof of fur and some movement (this is after we had discussed mowing over baby bunny nests). I screamed and left that section for my Mom to do. This animal incident should have been a sign as to what was to come to me the next few days.

Matt would be shocked at my productivity. Yard work, (thanks Mom & Dad) check. Animal incident, make note of it.

Monday: Much to my annoyance, we have not had a back splash for over a month. Long story short, our granite guy was supposed to be installing granite to fix an issue with the counter install. Let's just say he should be grateful this was the solution we agreed to and didn't make him tear out and redo 2 slabs worth of counter tops on his own dime. You'd think he would get this install done ASAP. But no, Mr. Matt thinks casual emails like "Let me know what works" and "sometime in the next few weeks" are sufficient. Finally, I got Matt to SCHEDULE a time and date for the install and the decided time was Monday morning at 9am. Matt told the guy I would just leave the door unlocked. Um, no. I went to work and at 8:45, just when I was about to go home to go let granite guys in, I got a phone call from them. They needed to go over to take a measurement. Hmmm, okay. What time is the install then? Oh 2, 2:30ish. Super. Glad I didn't go sit at home waiting for the 9am install to show up. And thanks for the phone call! I went home, they do the 5 second measurement, I went back to work. I went home for lunch to let the dogs out and went back to work. At 2:15 they called and were on their way so I went home to let them in. They arrived and the installers were not the 3 people we had met and were comfortable with. They were 2 men I had never seen before and after we struggled with a language barrier to communicate which door would be easiest to use, how long this would take, and what they needed, I knew leaving them alone there was not going to happen. Thankfully, trusted guy came to oversee the start and I ran back to work, got my computer to work from home and sped back home (for the 4th time). 4 hours later, the back splash was installed.

The result is great but what's not great is the dust from their dumb granite saw that was coating my kitchen (because obviously they didn't have the garage door shut), and my ENTIRE garage. I mean every single unorganized, not-yet-unpacked-from-our-move-3-months-ago item stuffing our 3-car garage, covered in a white chalky dust. Oh yea, my car was coated too and it was in the driveway. Awesome. There was also epoxy residue on the wood floor, on the new dishwasher and on a part of the counter. Not being too familiar with epoxy, I scrape it off the counter with my fingernail. It is sticky. It does not wash off. It does not dry out. It stinks and its threat of toxicity prevents you from eating the chips and salsa you want eat. I won't even get into the smell it saturated the house with.

I was pissed, irritated, annoyed and on the verge of tears (and Matt wasn't answering his phone) and I decided I would be happier if the back splash had switch plates over the outlets, thus, completing the kitchen once and for all.

This is an example of the outlet. The plugs were set about 1.5in back from being flush with the granite surface. Stupid installers. I tried to wiggle the outlet portion forward to get it in position to receive a switch plate and BZZZZZZ. I was shocked. Literally. Both hands were on the thing but my ring finger was obviously conducting some serious buzz. I stood stunned for a second then immediately my mind raced to images of those shockers to restart your heart, then the thought of the buzz stopping Baby Core(n)'s heart. At that point, I started crying (Matt was still not answering). I ran to my computer and googled "will getting shocked hurt unborn baby" and eased my mind with the results I found. Apparently amniotic fluid is wondrous stuff. Although I felt some relief, I spent the next 2 hours STARING at my stomach just waiting to feel a kick to ensure my little kernel was still kickin' in there. Waiting for baby kicks when you are afraid you just electrocuted your baby falls into the category of things that happen when you least expect them. Staring makes it worse and makes time tick by much more slowly. Finally baby kicked (we're talking hours later), Matt answered his phone, and the nightmare of a day was over.

Katy = annoyed   
Katy = shocked
Katy = case of the Mondays

Tuesday: Remember that lovely little bunny my doggies caught? Remember how Matt was out of town when it happened leaving me to deal with it? Remember my omen from doing yard work Sunday? The stars aligned for another kill. My poor ruff-ruffs were in their kennels all morning so when I went home to let them out over my lunch, they were chomping at the bit to get outside. I opened the door and they sprinted to the corner of the yard (where I have seen bunnies dart from) and within seconds, Gus came prancing out with a BIRD in his mouth. The big black thing was flapping around like crazy as Gus shook him, and other ticked off birds were cawing and swarming down, dive-bombing the yard like something out of the movie, Birds. Somehow, Walter got in there and ended up with it in his mouth. Meanwhile, I was screaming and Walter's grip gave me a chance to catch Gus and get him inside (phew, spared the little angel again from consuming roadkill). I went out trying to coax Walter inside and he kept trying to bring the bird with him (which meant, to me). I finally got him to drop the bird by showing him Peanut Butter and a leash and he came inside, of course trying to wipe his face all over me (thankfully, I have been working with him on the "don't put your face on me command" and I seriously think he gets it). This was only half the battle. There was now a dead bird in the yard. At least the bunny happened in the winter so I had time to let him freeze and stiffen up but the issue was, the dogs needed to go to the bathroom and I had limited time over my lunch break. Me, 2 plastic bags and a paper plate to shovel got the bird. It was bloody on one side, missing feathers, limp and squishy and I kept picturing it flapping up at me or his dumb friends pecking my eyeballs out.

Creepy. The good news was, no bird was consumed. Seriously, the second kill for G & W and the second time Matt was GONE. This is going to be a long 16 days (little did I know this wouldn't be the end of it). And really? What a stupid bird. You can fly. Gus has some serious hops but come on, you FLY.

The light at the end of my Tuesday was the Mumford & Sons concert I went to.

prettymuchamazing.com

It was AMAZING. It was a beautiful night at Stir Concert Cove (minus the flooded river lurking just behind the venue), the openers were great, Mumford sounded better live than their CD, and we heard a bunch of their new music that is on track to be just as good as their first album. Read about them. If you are living under a rock, let this enlighten you.

Awake My Soul,      The Cave,      Lover of the Light

If you remember, baby now hears things so add good taste in music to Core(n)'s repertoire. Between the musicals and concerts, this baby is set!

At the concert, we picked a spot to set up our lawn chairs and blankets. Emily and I were sitting on blankets and we notice that 3 feet in front of us was a dead bunny in the grass. Really?!? I told Emily about my bird drama and laugh that this bunny must be an omen. Literally 10 seconds later, we both see something fall out of the sky and bird poop lands on Emily's pant leg. I mean, 10 seconds. It was crazy. Yard work bunny, bird lunch, concert bunny, bird poop. I think that turd was meant for me with my bird karma. Some venue worker came and picked the bunny up by his legs and walked off with it. I almost threw up in my mouth. No gloves, no plastic, just bare-handed. It doesn't even end there.

The concert was awesome but way past my bedtime. I got home absolutely exhausted but I felt bad for the dogs having been in their kennels, not just all day, but now all night. I let them out, hung out for a bit and decide to let them outside one last time at 12:30. I watched them go out and putz around for a while, decided the coast was clear, and I walked away from the door. Suddenly, Birds was back. Furious chirping, cawing, squawking, whatever you want to call it started up and I knew that was not a good sign that late at night. I ran to the door and sure enough, Walter was prancing with a bird. ANOTHER BIRD. Are you kidding me?!?! This one was not very big and the big birds were pissed. They were flapping everywhere around the dogs. I again, rescued Gus but Walter was no so easy. I had to open the garage door to get him to think I was leaving with Gus and finally he came to the door. Did I mention it was 12:30, I was home alone, and it was raining?!? I was in no mood to mess with the bird and I didn't really know if it was out there. I never saw what Walter did with it but once inside, he immediately rushed to the toilet to clean out his mouth and for once, drinking from the toilet was welcomed. I went to bed ready for the day to be over. This morning I went outside praying for a body (it would mean Walter didn't eat it) and in the same spot as Bird #1, lay Bird #2.

Seriously, these birds are so dumb. At least this one was a baby so he had a little bit of an excuse. Talk about natural selection. Gus and Walter did these dumb birds a favor. Plastic bags and paper plate shovels and boom, 2 birds in the trash. Thank goodness tomorrow is trash day.

Gus kills bird, Katy goes to Mumford, sees dead bunny, watches bird poop hit Emily, Walter kills bird.

Let this be the end of the animals!!! Matt has been gone for 4 days out of 16! AAGGHH!! Sorry about the LONG blog post but without hubby at home, I have to vent to someone! Let's hope the next week and a half is less eventful. I'll wrap this up back on a happy note, with Corny people (and corny jokes?).

Baby Core(n)

ibeenthere2.blogspot.com

Why didn't my Oregon Corn and I think of this? I might be corn for Halloween.

marthastewart.com