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Filling his head with good memories

Hiking

Saturday before leaving for a hike

Robey: Mommy, remember that time me and Daddy and Monroe went for a hike and you met us there  with lunch?
Me: Yes, I do.
Robey: That's in my head.

Sunday while eating lunch at the counter

Robey: Do you remember the time Max was sitting here and he was kicking his feet underneath the counter?
Me: Mmmm-hmmm. I think so.
Robey: That's in my head.
Me: Those things you remember in your head are called memories. I like to hear about what's your head.
Robey: I like having them in my head too.

Yesterday was a bloggity good day

Remember when I posted that shot of myself 9 months pregnant with Monroe, and you all said I looked great, and I said, "Oh no, that's an accidental camera trick. I'm actually quite huge." Here's what I mean. That's me yesterday at five months pregnant (and trust me, I was much larger in that 9-month shot from the last pregancy).

But - beyond the self-obsessed observation of my size, the real news is that I met a blogfriend live and in person for the very first time. Annie is a whirlwind of energy, intelligence and compassion, just as you might expect from her blog. We met for dinner at Squid's in Chapel Hill, which I can't recommend highly enough. I made fast friends with Jamie, the general manager, when I had to call three separate times for directions before actually finding the place.

AND I relied on a real-life friend who's also a blogger to help too. Sarah rescued me by logging into my Facebook account and finding Annie's phone number, which I had forgotten. Given that Sarah has probably met hundreds of blogfriends in real life, I thought it seemed terribly appropriate that she helpd me on my way to my first blogfriend meetup.

After dinner, I got to meet Annie's husband, her five cats (or maybe just 4 of them, one may have been hiding), and one of her friends who helps out with J. Plus, Annie is introducing me virtually to another blogfriend of hers who will be a good contact for some of my business blogging adventures.

It turned out to be quite a nice night considering how crazed my day had been. Before heading to dinner, I had five back-to-back meetings, which all ran late, so I was running behind for each and every one. I kept meaning to get back to my computer to make a plan for the drive to Chapel Hill and even make it to my hotel room before that drive to change my clothes and brush my hair, but that never happened. That's how I ended up on the road with a grease stain on my shirt, and without good directions or the appropriate phone number.

But then the dinner was fantastic, as I've described, and when I finally did make it to my hotel room around 9, I WON AT BLINGO and had an invitation to join a book group at work to read Devra's book. Seriously. How's that for more bloggity goodness? What's Blingo and how can you win? Go register & start searching. After that, don't forget to read Annie & Sarah & Devra. Oh, and if you get the chance, eat at Squids!

T-shirts slogans that offend

Spotted Sunday at the Cleveland Hopkins airport on a slender, young co-ed:

Does my t-shirt make you feel fat?

Spotted years ago in a Southern cafeteria-style restaurant on a teenaged employee:

I hate everything

Both times I was more offended than I ever imaged I could be by a T-shirt. Have you ever been offended by a slogan on a T?

The Kafsky Life blog

One day my friend Rachel sends me a note saying, "Wha? Ha? What's this FaceBook thing and how do I make it work?" Next thing I know she has more FaceBook friends than I do AND she has a blog.

What can I tell you about Rachel? Sophomore year at OU we shared a "common area" in O'Bleness hall, plus a slew of common friends. We also shared clothes and beers and I don't know ... other things ... like homework. Yeah, homework.

Rachel was the fellow party-goer I wrote about here. That was sophomore year. The next year, I took a year off from school. The year after that, I came back and she was taking a year off. Then during what should have been our senior year but turned out to be our junior year (you following me here?), we ended up working together at the same Sports Tavern. The story about how that came to be is a funny one too. I'll tell you.

I'd been bartending for a few years at that point, and my boss Shawn was always looking for decent waitresses. I said, "My friend Rachel's been waiting tables full time for the past year. She just moved back to Athens. You should interview her." He said, "Okay. Call her." And this is how the interview went. I stood behind the bar while Shawn and Rachel sat at the bar, and we all settled on a fair way to determine whether or not she should work with us: If Rachel could match Shawn beer-for-beer all night long, Shawn would hire her on the spot.

Back then (long before these past seven years of me being pregnant, trying to get pregnant or nursing), I could hold my beer. Still, on a good night, I'd maybe match Shawn one beer for every two of his.

So, this is the point in the story where you realize exactly why I haven't mentioned the name of the bar. Just in case there's an equal opportunity fundamentalist reading this blog. After all, there could have been a lightweight drinker or even (gasp) a non-drinker out there who may have wanted the job. Such an interview process would not have been fair to them. It was hardly fair to Rachel - but she held her own during my entire shift. Then we closed down the bar and walked to a few others where she continued to match Shawn one bottled Busch beer after the next.

I think she started working with us two days later (she needed at least one day to recover).

Of course, Rachel and I both eventually graduated, quit the service industry, moved on and lost touch. Until one day I was talking to our mutual friend Amy from my home in Princeton, North Carolina, and I asked about Rachel. Amy said, "Let me check my address book. I know she just moved. I think she's someplace in North Carolina too ... Okay, here it is: She's in Clayton, North Carolina."

Wouldn't you know it? Clayton was 15 minutes down the road, and right on my way to work in Cary. So I called her, and we got together, hung out, and eventually bartered lawn mowers for canoes. What? Isn't that what all good friends do?

Now she's in Charlotte and I'm in Ohio, and we both have two boys and mommyblogs. Boy, how life changes.   

You might remember how excited I was when Sarah started blogging. Well, I'm still no good at predicting who will get the blogging bug next - but I'm thrilled to introduce you to another friend who's unexpectedly caught it. Go check out Rachel's new blog & leave a comment. Tell her Ali sent ya.

They say this is a baby girl

Ultrasound1_2

I think I believe them.

(Tell me. Why is it that I had no qualms about posting the money shots from either of my boys' ultrasounds ... yet I feel a little icky about posting this one of my unborn baby girl? Is it a double standard already?)

I think he just called me a whimp

Robey: Can we have more juice?

Me: No. You just spilled your juice.

Max & Robey: Please. We won't spill anymore. Please. We want juice. Please ...

Me: No. I don't know. I don't care. Ask your dad.

Max & Robey: Please. Can we have more juice? We won't spill anymore.

Jeromy: No.

Max: At our house, my mom's in charge.

A well-placed simile

Jerm: We worked in the yard today. We washed the car. Moe learned that the side hill is too steep for him.

Me: Did he fall down the hill?

Jerm: Yep.

Robey: Him rolled down it, LIKE A BALL!