All of the swag, none of the drag

Remember when I was all "Wah!  I'm never going to Blogher because it's scary and blah blah blah no one cares!"?  Like, two seconds after I published that post it occured to me that if I never go to Blogher then I will never get any swag.  Sad!  But then look what came in the mail today!

 Specifically tiny tape measure* mice from Stimey!

 You know, when you arrange them like that their little tape measure mouths make sort of unfortunate symbol.  I'm not sure exactly what message Stimey was trying to send me with her little Glenn Beck Nazi mice but I'm not sure I care for it.

Luckily the mice are cute when they're separated.  Even when they're cradled in my giant, pale, potato-like man hands.  Plus, every time I use one I'll be reminded to visit Stimey for all my quirk and quirk related accessories.

Since we got four mice everyone in our family got to name one.  Elle named hers Mousy but she's going to call it Jerry.  Joseph named his Jerry but he's going to name his Mousy.  This was all decided after an incident which shall hereafter be referred to as The Great Mouse Naming War of 2010.  At least that's what I would call it if I ever spoke about it again which I won't because even the mere thought of how emotionally invested my children are willing to become in the naming of plastic mice makes me want to curl up in a corner and cry.

When I asked Jesse what he would like to name his mouse he said "Dead."  Then he said "Or maybe we could go the traditional route and name them them Mickey, Minnie, Mortimer and ... something else."  That seems not so much "traditional" as it does "stealing all the fun of mice naming from everyone else and also a little over invested in the whole process" so we'll just go with the original name of Dead.  (I think Jesse is a little bitter about the mouse situation we've got going on in our garden right now.)

I named my mouse AWESOME because that's what it is.

So thank you Stimey for the awesome swag.  I think my favorite part about it is that I didn't even have to elbow a baby in the face to get it.

*Did you know that these things are called "tape measures" and not "tape measurers"?  It wasn't until spell check alerted me that there was no such word as "measurer" that I realized I've been saying it wrong my entire life.  I feel like such a fool.  It's worse than the time I realized that game shows gave away "parting gifts" and not "party gifts".

Two years ago today Elle was an artist.
Four years ago today Joseph was in a rough patch.
Five years ago today Joseph scolded an old lady.

I apologize in advance

I am just going to go ahead and say it now so I can get it out of the way: I am sorry.

I started my hormone shots yesterday and I am already feeling the effects. I had kind of forgotten about this part of the whole process. I mean, I knew the shots weren't exactly fun but I forgot what a number they did on my emotionally last time.

It's not that I am crabby exactly. It's more like I am moody and sad and convinced that everyone is just waiting for me to leave the room so that they can plan their "Jen sucks and we're happier when she's not around" themed party. It's not a great mix and I freely admit that for the next few weeks I might not be real fun to be around. Although you guys were probably all thinking that I was never that fun to be around anyway. Weren't you? Waaahhhhhh!!!

But I digress. This won't last that long. It's only a couple of weeks until I start taking the second hormone and that actually helps a little. The embryo transfer is scheduled for May 14th and assuming I get pregnant I won't have to be on the hormones for very long.

In the meantime though? I apologize for being moody and emotional and a big lame sad-sack. I apologize if I get angry over stupid things or slam doors because I think you looked at me funny or burst into tears because I take a simple action (like you laughing at someone elses joke) as your way of saying you like everyone else better than me. It's just the hormones and I will be better soon.

In other news, in response to my last post about the toxic logs I was asked by Stimey* "How tempted were you to just leave them there?"

The answer is: Very. If it was just Jesse and I eating the vegetables I would probably just risk it. Because I would rather eat poison than move something heavy. Since I don't want my children to start glowing in the dark I guess we'll have to move the Logs of Death. I think we're going to go with raised gardens although I was fascinated by the concept of straw gardening that a few people suggested to me and I think I might try it out next year. The bad news is that switching to raised gardens means more work and that makes me want to cry because I think it means even my yard hates me.

*Have you met Stimey? Because you should. She's a lot like me but she has 50% more children than I do and as far as I know she almost never cries about her yard. Other than that she is my internet souls sister and I have occasionally contemplated packing up my family and going to stalk visit her. I adore her even though she likes tomatoes and claims to not know how to text. We've overcome those differences through a shared love of ice cream and quirky children. She is awesome and you should go read her blog because she is going to me a lot more fun than I am for the next few weeks. Go on! Save yourself! Go!

Four years ago today I had bad restaurant karma.