Cankles, Chicken and Mullets. My weekend.

1. Sorry for the No Post Weekend, my friends! Lulu was dealing with Koenig's health (yay for dogs who make quick recoveries!) while I, among other things, was getting laughed at by a team of medical professionals. It's true. I went to the doctor's office the other day because Asia legit made me nervous about my fat feet and ankles. (Evidently Asia's opinion is held in higher regard than my own husband's, parents', and sister's opinions? Woopsies!) Anyway I went in and my fears were confirmed, I have issues.

It's so weird. I've only had the doctor I saw one other time (I rotate between 5 different docs), and she is just so blunt. Which normally I can get on board with (just call me Blunts McGee!)(Sike don't call me that. I sound like a drug dealer.), but not when it has to do with my vanity health.  She asked me why I was there, and I told her I'm not feeling 100%, and being that this is my first pregnancy I'm just trying to be overly cautious etc etc, and I showed her my gordo ankles. And this is her response, "OH MY WORD! THOSE?!?! ARE CANKLES!!!!" And sort of gives an elbow to the nurse in a, "Damn! Would ya look at those bad boys?!" way. Wait. Really? However accurate it may be, I'm pretty sure CANKLES is not medical terminology. Anyway long, and traumatic story short, I have really bad Edema in my feet/ankles/legs/soul. It may require me to go on a modified work schedule (read: more blogging! yay!), because sitting at a desk for 8 hours a day is making my anks worse.

As I was leaving I asked her if the next time I come in I should make the appointment with her. (Being that now we've bonded. And by bonded I mean she insulted me, and I sat there like a boob acting like it made sense.) And she's like, "That won't be necessary. Because ANYONE could see THOSE." And she points to my cankles (who are now weeping in the corner, wearing a dunce cap).

In the end my cankles and I took our business elsewhere. To Starbucks, duh. Where you cannot be judged based on race, creed, or cank size.

2. In more uplifting news, I made delicious tacos the other night. The recipe for the chicken is so simple (my bestie the crockpot helps) and definitely was a crowd pleaser! I served the tacos with sour cream, cheese, lettuce, etc and it was really easy!

Here is the recipe for the chicken (can't remember which blog I saw it on...sorry! I need to get better at that.):

Sweet and Spicy Slow Cooker Chicken
serves 4
- 1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 2) [Personally I don't think two breasts is enough. I did four because my cousin came for dinner. The guys each had two, and I had one. Always take into consideration that growing men eat twice as much!]
- 1 can petite diced tomatoes, undrained
-1/3 cup brown sugar
-1/4 cup crushed red pepper flakes [Kick it up a bit if you want more spice. I did 1/2 cup and ours were pretty darn spicy.]

Put chicken in the crockpot. Combine tomatoes, brown sugar and red pepper flakes in a bowl and pour over chicken. Cover and cook on LOW for 8-9 hours. Shred chicken with a fork and serve on  soft tortillas.

Done and done! Sooo easy. Sooo tasty. Sooo makes you look like you know what you're doing.

3. This weekend was so nice. Friday night we went to dinner with one of our favorite priests, Father Ivany. He is the priest who celebrated our wedding and guided us through pre-Cana. He is the BEST! Saturday Joel went to a friend's bachelor party, so I was left to my own devices. A couple girlfriends (whose men were also at the bach party) and I decided to hit up the DC Big Flea Market at the Dulles Expo Center. We cleared out the car, loaded up on Starbucks, and made our way down to the show. It was the first time the three of us had been to something like this, and we were totally in sensory overload! SO. MUCH. STUFF.  And we made out like bandits!

(Unfortunately my computer is acting a fool and won't let me upload pictures right now. So I have to wait until tomorrow to post all of my sweet purchases.)

In the mean time I will leave you with this beaut...

Business in the front, party in the back.

You like how my sis-in-law and I are pretending to be super enthralled with the antiques so that this crazy beast could be captured on film?!

Sunday our cousin's family invited Lulu, me and our hubbies down to Fort Belvoir for some golf and relaxation. The men played golf while the ladies lounged and chatted. It was a great time! We had delicious Cincinnati chili, brownie sundaes and watched the heartbreaking 'Skins game :( They lost-- but it wasn't for a lack of effort!

The weekends are going by so fast, and the countdown to baby Sellier is getting lower and lower. 50 DAYS UNTIL MY DUE DATE. In the grand scheme of life, 50 days might as well be tomorrow. AYEYEYEYE!!!

Enjoy your Monday!!

-Charlie

P.S. Look at the cute pillows I won from Christina's Adventures!

I feel pretty lucky! Thank you so much Christina!! Here at ATOTS we endorse giveaways and everything they represent. If all goes well, Lulu and I will be hosting our own pillow giveaway at the beginning of October!

P.P.S. A bunch of people with super awesome taste have been asking me where I got the shoes I talked about here. The answer is DSW, girls! Click this link-----> Penny loves Kenny flats They come in black and copper too!

ASIA: The woman. The myth. The LEGEND!

So yesterday I was having a bad day. A terrible no good, very bad day! I don't even know why really. Well I do. I'm pregnant and my hormones were sucker punching me, but still.

Just call me Alexander

(Sidebar: If you're ever bored Google "no good very bad day". Amazing pictures like these come up:

Trust. You won't be disappointed.)(You're welcome.)

Anyway, I was a hot mess. I ended up leaving work early and crying to Lulu and Mama Nixonsleeve about nothing and everything. It was just one of those days, you know? So I decided that I needed a pedicure to help me feel better. A pedi always lifts my spirits! I went to my usual place, only to find my girl Helen didn't work there anymore. BOO HISS. Annoyed, I asked that whoever gave me the pedicure be really good at giving foot massages. Because my dogs? They were barkin'!!!

Enter: Asia. 

No, not the world's largest and most populous continent. No, not the 80s rock group with hits such as "Heat of the Moment". The amazing nail lady with the hands of a Grecian god. She should seriously consider insuring her hands like JLo insured her butt. Because those are her money makers, people. Her hands, or as I like to call them, Cash & Money, worked wonders on my swollen, fat, feet. Things were looking up.

From the moment I laid my baby blues on Asia (I can guarantee that's not to be her birth name. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate what she was doing in choosing that name), I knew I'd like her.

Reason #1- She was dressed like B Spears in the Hit me Baby One More Time video. 

I like it. And I respect it.

Something along the lines of this. Of course she didn't JUST have a sports bra on (what kind of nail tech do you take her for?!) but it was close. And yes, she had her hair done like that too. I wasn't even mad, I was impressed.

And things only got better...

Reason #2- She asked me if I wanted an eyebrow wax just one time!!! ONE. TIME. 

Let the record show that it is NOT a requirement by the Institute of Nail People to make them ask you 598094839x if you "want eyebrow wax?", "want lip wax?" or worse, "chin wax?" thereby making you feel like the hairiest person this side of the Mason Dixon.

Update: I told Joel all about Asia. And do you know his first question? "Did she ask you, 'you want eyebrow wax?'" SEE! Even HE knows that nail ladies ALWAYS ask that. (By talking so much about this question I realize it might sound like I'm implying I'm really hairy. But I'm not. For real.)

Reason #3- Her mitts.

Did I mention she had the hands of an Asian Incredible Hulk? (In a good way.)

Just take it as a compliment, Asia.

Reason #4- She gave me unsolicited pregnancy advice. That I actually liked.

Asia was seriously concerned regarding my feet and cankles ankles. As I was paying she whispered to me that I needed to go to the store and buy salt scrub and throw it in some hot water, soak them, then, (and this is the key), have my husband rub my feet for long time. BOOM goes the dynamite! She also said stuff about drinking milk, not eating junk food, blah blah whatevs...HUSBAND. MASSAGING MY FEET. FOR AN INFINITE AMOUNT OF TIME. What Asia wants, Asia gets.

Needless to say if I'm willing to do an entire post dedicated to Asia, you know she pulled on the ole' heart strings. Asia basically brought joy to my otherwise terrible day! God Bless Asia (the continent, the band AND the lady)! 

Oh yeah. And buying these helped too...

Cute and comfy. Just want Asia would want.

It's Wednesday! Which means it's almost Thursday, which is basically Friday. Sooooo T.A.I.F!

-Charlie

Things I Learned Last Week: People Think I Can Stop a Moving Bus. With My Stomach.

Welcome to  another addition of Pregnancy Opinions with Charlie Nixonsleeve!!!

This weeks Opinions are just an extension of last weeks, because I cannot help the fact people continue to say absurd things to be whilst I am with child.

So last Friday I was walking out of work to my car. As I was crossing the street a bus pulled up at the light next to me. I knew the bus would stop (as the light was already red), so I stepped out and started walking. I was just minding my merry business when I hear a voice behind me. It's a man (Really guys? REALLY? Unless you're offering to carry me to my car just keep it movin'). So he says, "Wow! I hope that bus stops!" Pleasant enough. Harmless enough. So I say, "Haha! I know right!!" and then he says, "Well actually it's good that you're closer to the bus because you would be able to stop it a little, being, you know...." And gestures TO MY STOMACH! No sir, I don't know. Please clarify. Do you and your friendskis sit around making jokes about preggo ladies getting hit by buses? Nice. And wait-- getting hit by buses to stop said bus from hitting you?! Was he implying that because I'm big and pregnant I could stop a moving bus a la Superman?!?! YES!  (For all the skeptics out there. I am tots not overreacting. This is TOTALLY what he meant. Trust.) I turned around and I just looked at him with a shocked look on my face and said "Oh noooo!!!!" (I admit- that wasn't my finest work in the reaction department, but I honestly had no idea what to say. I mean it had a little ghetto flair which was effective. It could have easily transformed itself into a nice "Oh noooo you did-intttttttt!" had I been more prepared.)

I could tell he felt bad for what he said so he just looks down at the ground and totally reverts back to being like 12  years old after his mom scolded him for playing too much Duck Hunt. "Sorrrryyyyyyyy. I just..." I mean it was so weird. It was so weird to be having such an odd conversation with a stranger when all I wanted to do was get home to watch The Holiday, and eat my body weight in slice-n-bake cookies. He tried to make up for it with some more banter, but the damage was done. He had altered the course of history forever. He had solidified a place on A Tale of Two Sisters, for the rest of eternity.

In conclusion...it seems to me that when some people see a pregnant woman, they aren't totally sure how to react. Similar to a wild animal charging them. "What do I do? Do I run? Do I fight back? Do I try to throw treats at it to appease it? [editors note: throwing Pringles, Chick-Fil-A and/or cupcakes at me would have changed everything...]  Do I make awkward comments on it's weight and ability to stop two ton vehicles? Yes I think the ladder is my best choice. Good thinking brain!"

No brain, not good thinking.

-Charlie

p.s. I will get baby room pics up later today! I am off to my doc appointment where they give me that glucose test. Hurrah!

Agustus Gloop, You are my soulmate!

Day TWO of blogging and I'm already using the blog to rant about something. Niceeeee. Normally I'd be a little less INTENSE as I re-enter the blog-o-sphere but a few things have changed since you heard from me last. For starters-- I'm pregnant. Open and shut case, Johnson! Being preggers has made me a lot more aware of how many opinions I have. (My friends reading this are probs like, "HA! Since when have you NOT voiced your opinion?? It's you who never fails to remind me that I could 'use a little more bronzer!' Or lipgloss...and to not date boys who drink out of straws!!" Touche. Well played, friends. But this is different). Being pregnant means people treat you in a different way (sometimes good, but in today's example...bad) and so now I have a new set of opinions on things. Pregnancy Opinions. (I'm tempted to make this a weekly corner: Pregnancy Opinions with Charlie Nixonsleeve....it has a nice ring to it!). OK, let me explain...

Everyone knows you get bigger when you're pregnant. It's inevitable. Unless you are one of The Chosen Ones, most women get bigger everywhere, not just their stomachs. What I didn't realize is that the general population of humans think it's OK to mention how big you're getting. And not just your "cute little basketball tummy" I'm talking like, "Wow, your legs are getting BIG! You need to watch that!" No joke. Someone said that to me today. My boss. Wait. Really? Is Ashton PUNKING pregnant women now? Because I'm pretty sure that's the worst thing EVER to say to an emotional pregnant lady who, evidently, has big legs. WE GET IT...I've gained 30 lbs (I'm 26 weeks). Glad you've noticed. Those #5 8 packs at Chick-fil-a don't eat themselves, thanks.

And men? Men are worse than women. They all should just pipe down. They haven't a clue what's going on with us, so they should just say nothing. I'm pretty sure my dad will do ANYTHING to avoid talking about how pregnant I look. And why? Because he is wise. Because he knows nothing good comes from talking about women's weight now...or ever.  The only thing men should ask is, "How are you feeling?" or "Can I get you anything?" or better yet, "Would you like fries with that?" Those are man approps questions. My husband who is so cute and lovely has learned through trial and error that when in doubt? Just ask me if I want a Chai Creme Frappuccino. Because that my friends? Is a delicious drink. And will ALWAYS illicit a positive response!

Chai Creme Frapp= What I imagine an angel's tears to taste like. Heaven.

Listen. I'm a first time pregnant woman, and I have a lot of feelings and emotions, and I'm trying to handle all of the changes. I just don't need extra things to think about....like my tree trunk legs.

Here is a pictorial analogy:

Charlie Nixonsleeve*

Agustus Gloop

Charlie Nixonsleeve= Augustus Gloop

Wahhhh!!

OK am I being too sensitive? Has something similar to this ever happened to you? Am I the only one with big legs roaming the earth!? Help!!!

-Charlie

*My friends and I think it's funny to have pregnant women pose with beer