The other day, my apartment complex had an annual inspection. While they were here, they tested the carbon monoxide detector and the smoke alarm. When they hit the button on the detector, it makes a little beep. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Besides the usual “Great, I’m protected, it’s still working!”

Anyway. Later that night my hubby and I were laying in bed and I heard this strange beeping noise from the vicinity of my living room. Now, the smoke alarm is by our bedroom and the carbon monoxide detector is in the living room. So immediately, my paranoia kicks in to overdrive.

Me: Ian! HEY. Baby! The carbon monoxide detector is beeping! THAT’S BAD RIGHT?
Hubby: I don’t hear anything.
Me: Well, listen! (beeping continues at regular intervals) Hear that?! You have to go check it out!

Rinse and repeat for a few more minutes until poor hubby finally drags himself out of bed to go look. He call out, “It’s not even beeping!” as he hits the test button. Now I get out of bed. Silly man, he’s probably not hitting the correct thing.

Hmm, he’s right. Doesn’t even sound close to the noise I heard. So as I ponder what the noise could be, we hear it again.

Aha! It’s coming from the computer desk. Hubby walks over and turns off the speakers.

“Must be some alert on your computer.”

Maybe.. mayyybe. But I don’t have alerts set on my computer.

Oh well, I’m tired. We go back to bed.

Beep, beep!

Okay, now I’m just annoyed. Where. is. it. coming. from?! I once again crawl out of bed (it’s now about 4:30 am, the joy) to go investigate. There I stand in the middle of the living room daring the noise to show itself. Finally, it does.

Beep, beep!

Walking over to the computer desk, I grab an old cell phone of hubby’s. The front of it proudly displays the low battery message.

Fabulous. I’m up at this ungodly hour because I’m convinced my family is in danger.. from a dying cell phone. I blame pregnancy hormones.

And now I have to tell my hubby what the noise was.

Good-bye, dignity.

—-

In other words..

My darling daughter, a popsicle is not to be used as a crayon. Please do not “draw” on things with it. Especially a dark blue popsicle on mommy’s new white table cloth.

Perhaps I’ll give her the cell phone to amuse herself with.

Wow, I can’t believe it’s been so long since I updated. I wish I had an exciting life to use as an excuse, but I don’t.

Finally got my house cleaned top to bottom. I had to do it while both my daughter and husband were gone. I’m sure you guys understand. But yes, I’m done! And my house smelled so good on Friday, all lemon-y fresh from the Pinesol mixed with fresh laundry.

There’s just something about the scent of Pinesol that says “Congrats on cleaning your house, ya freakin’ slob!” However, now that my husband and daughter have invaded the house again, it has more of a pizza and diaper wipes smell. Which is a nice smell of it’s own.

But it’s no Pinesol.

Thursday I finally had my September prenatal exam. I was supposed to go two weeks ago, but I forgot all about it (stupid stupid!). So I rescheduled for the next week, but missed that one (that was hubby’s fault though). I’m sure the appointment desk ladies really hate the sound of my voice now.

Apparently everything is going smoothly. My blood pressure was pronounced “excellent” from the beaming nurse. My weight is up to 128, which is good because at my first prenatal I was all the way down to 103 lbs due to horrible morning sickness and stress. It’s nice to be back to a good weight.

The only thing I hated about the appointment was the scheduling of my glucose test. I hate those things! Mine was on Friday and I felt so sick afterwards. They make you chug a bottle of that nasty orange drink and sit there for an hour. Then, as your great reward, they take a bunch of your blood and send you off with a cotton ball taped to your arm.

But that drink. I am not an orange fan. At all. And to have to slam something that tastes like a horrible version of orange soda.. Let’s just say I almost killed the lab guy.

“Drink this cup full as fast as you can!” he says with a cheery grin. “Good job, now drink this cup the same way! …And this one! ..One more!”

Please don’t make me stab you, creepy lab guy. Oh, and Nurse? Don’t rub my belly without warning. It tends to make me nervous when strangers grab me.

Yes, chugging nasty drinks makes me pissy. Good thing I stole one of their (free) calendars! Bwahaha.

Anyway, I better pass. I am not doing the three hour test.

I refuse.

Okay, I’ll probably do it. I can’t say no to my midwife, she’s too sweet.

And who else is going to get this baby out of me?