Quinn says that I am not allowed to blog, because if you don't have anything to say, you shouldn't say anything. The conversation went something like this:

Me (starting at blank screen): "How do you know I don't have anything to say?"

Quinn: "Because you haven't done ANYTHING today. I came out at noon and you were sleeping on the couch, you made one call, then you went back to sleep, now it's 8 o clock, we haven't even eaten yet, and you haven't done ANYTHING today."

I suppose that is a fairly accurate assessment of my day. I am being sort of a baby about this whole baby thing. I get that it's my own fault and that babies are cute and this too shall pass and all of that good stuff... but I am a complainer and whiner. Have been my whole life.

Quinn breaks in again, after looking at my screen:

"How are you coming up with that much to WRITE about? You haven't removed your butt from the couch the whole day and you're coming up with that much to write about it?"

So anyway, I am exhausted all of the time and it sucks. If I have a second child ever, I will forfeit my right to complain about that one, because I will know exactly what I am getting into. For some reason I thought this would be a piece of cake, though. Wow, I really should get over the whole learning things for myself trait that I have.

Quinn: "I hope you know I'm going to delete that later."

Apparently he doesn't like being quoted. I am playing around with raw meat to feed him, though, so I think he can just be quiet.

Jeff has been gone for 2 weeks in Shreveport, Louisiana for work (poor thing) and he will be home on Friday. I am really excited to see him, and so is his dog, who has been an utter pain in the butt this whole time. He freaks out whenever Jeff is gone, and all he has done the entire two weeks is bark at us and be needy. Quinn is excited to see him, too, because Jeff is hilarious, and he also cooks much better than I do. I'm pretty sure Quinn thinks he is dying of starvation, minus the time Jeff's parents brought us dinner, and minus last night when they invited us over for dinner. Oooh, they had another really awesome game of Uno, too. It's called Uno Stacko. It gets your adrenaline going and it's really fun.

Quinn: "Tubberware! That's what you call maternity clothes!"

Sigh.

I actually enjoy his obnoxious teenage boy banter. Probably more than I should, but this is just our typical conversation. I'll miss it when he eventually either grows up (not likely judging from the men in our family) or moves away because I'm uncool.

Quinn: "We should do something. I hear sitting around doing nothing gives you cancer."

I guess I'll go eat and do something because, as Quinn says: "Tavs, your laziness makes me sad face."

Oh yeah, has anyone been anemic when they were pregnant? I am wondering if that's my problem. It's abnormal to be tired this much- I slept 9 hours last night then took 6 hours worth of naps today, and am still tired. Plus I am really cold all the time.

Ode to the Cicadas Outside

Texas is definitely the land of the bugs, and I've discovered a new one, worthy of a Blog. It's called a Cicada. Many of you probably know exactly what they are, but I'd never seen or heard of them before.

Cicadas pop out of their shells and leave them discarded (like the top picture) in odd places like my porch posts. I have to hose them off almost every day. They leave a big hole in the back of the shell. It reminds me of a scene from the movie Alien.

What pops out is this really pretty creature, which we never see. We hear them, though. They sit in the trees and sing their creepy song constantly. I decided to hop online and do a very small bit of research on them, and here is what I found out:

• After mating, the female cuts slits into the bark of a twig, and into these she deposits her eggs. She may do so repeatedly, until she has laid several hundred eggs. When the eggs hatch, the newborn nymphs drop to the ground, where they burrow. Most cicadas go through a life cycle that lasts from two to five years. Some species have much longer life cycles, e.g., such as the North American genus, Magicicada, which has a number of distinct "broods" that go through either a 17-year or, in the American South, a 13-year life cycle. These long life cycles both happen to be prime numbers, perhaps developed as a response to predators such as the cicada killer wasp and praying mantis.^[9][10][11]. A predator with a shorter life cycle of at least 2 years could not reliably prey upon the cicadas.^[12]

So this would explain the holes in the dirt that I have been finding all summer!

• There is a fable called The Cicada and the Ant where the ant stores food all summer while the Cicada sings its summer away (they only come out in the summer and they sing and sing and sing in the trees), and the Cicada finds itself unprepared when the cold weather comes in the winter.
  

• The song comes from loud noise makers called timbals on their abdomen. As they expand and contract their abdomens, the song is created. It gets amplified (these guys are REALLY loud) by enlarged chambers derived from the tracheae (sorry for the plagiarism, but didn't know a better way to put that).
• Cicadas are also EATEN in some parts of the world!! :

Cicadas have been eaten in China, Malaysia, Burma, Latin America, the Congo and even in the United States. Fried Cicadas is a popular treat in the Chicago, Illinois area. In North China, cicadas are skewered or stir fried as a delicacy.

More Names

I realize I am starting a bit early on this, but I have also realized that in 10 weeks I will be able to find the gender of the baby out, and I am getting a little frightened that the name "baby Pedro" (the joking little moniker we have given it) is starting to stick!

Girl:

• Matilda
• Magda
• Violet (though everyone on my side of the family would be angry with me because my Grandmy Violet found her greatest life's pleasure in making misery for others... I just happen to love the name, and she was always wonderful to me)
• Brenna (this was going to be Quinn's name if he was a girl and I really liked it)
• Effie

If we want to venture into names already used on pets but that are beautiful nonetheless:

• Chloe
• Emma (overused this generation, though)
• Tess
• Hannah
• Kitty (but I don't want her to be made fun of for having a stripper name so maybe not)

Or if we want to venture into Ancient Greece, I have always loved Euridice. Euridice Moline, though? Eh. Maybe she could just have a first name like Cher or Madonna. On that note, I also really love Isolde. Again... Isolde Moline? Eeks.

Or I could name her after my belly button scar, Hildegard, whom she is going to be wreaking havoc on soon.

Boy names:

• George
• Jake
• Jack
• Steven
• Duncan
• Zack
• Heath

Quinn's best friend back home, Andre, has put in a special request for Tyrell or Tyrone, depending upon gender. I think I'll pass, though :)

Or there is always Pedro...

Poll

So, I am starting to get feedback on my 2 favorite names. Matilda for a girl and George for a boy. Everyone tell me what you think. Be honest.

If we have a girl and name her Matilda, I will have named the kid after a song (Waltzing Matilda) as well as a Bulldog that my favorite wrestlers in the WWF had as a mascot when I was a kid. Yes, I used to watch the WWF with my uncle as a kid, and my favorite team was the British Bulldogs. They were really cute, had the British flag across their trunks, and brought their Bulldog, Matilda, with them everywhere. I even named my childhood fort after the dog... it was a tree fort and I called it Nature Fort Matilda and spent tons and tons of time there as a kid. Matilda is a name I've pretty much always loved and brings back tons of fond memories.

I've always liked the name George, too. My great, great grandpa was named George Ewen and I just love the name. His wife was named Effie, and I have a painting of them and have Effie's garnet set. I've always been fascinated with them since I was a little kid. Oh yes, and the nicest boy I ever knew back in grade school was named George. Whenever I tell people I want to use the name George, though, either Curious George comes up, or someone starts singing George of the Jungle. Just depends which generation they are from as to which reference I get. So George may be up for debate. Jeff doesn't like it. I think George Ewen Moline has a ring, though.

I also really like the name Effie. Like I said, my Bohemian great, great grandma was named Effie and Jeff's really awesome grandma (I've never met her, but she sends the sweetest cards, and has an amazing soup recipe she shares that combats morning sickness) is also named Effie. With the name on both sides belonging to really cool women, it seems natural to use it, and I have always wanted to. I'm not sure how to incorporate it, though. I also want my last name in there somewhere, and I would like my Aunty Gail's name in there. Jeff says I can't pretend I am southern and give the kid 5 names, either. So Matilda Effiegail Ewen Moline is out, apparently. Isn't that a bad ass name, though? feel free to make fun of me in the open and not behind my back :)

Sigh. Maybe I should stick to naming dogs.

War on Fleas

I am so boring. All I have to write about tonight is my war on fleas. I got my Advantage order in the mail today and just put it on them all. The bad thing about having so many dogs is how expensive it gets when you have to get into things like heartworm meds and flea preventatives (thank you, hot state of Texas). $70 later I have a 2 and a half month supply of Advantage. I was pretty excited because at the vet that price would have only gotten me a one month supply for so many dogs. I just put it on them, and am crossing my fingers Cosmo doesn't react. I used bio spot once and he had a horrible reaction. Of course I know it is a cheap product, but it works for the fleas. Just not for the skin, apparently. So hopefully Advantage is better. Cosmo is all fussy right now since I put it on him. I think that's just him being indignant, though.

Red "Rocks"

I wish I had the energy to go and take a picture, put it on the computer, and upload it for all to see. Since I don't, though, everyone will just have to visualize my naughty red dog with her head in the fireplace. Remember Lily's rock obsession (or better yet, remember the giant pike of rock puke from the blog a few months ago)? I had decided not to have rocks anywhere at the new house, for the sake of Lily's health and my wallet (no more emergency surgeries, thank you very much). Little did I know... drumroll... there are tons and tons of tiny pebbles in our fireplace. Lily has taken to popping the screen open with her rotten little head, nabbing them, and eating them. How did she even figure out they were in there?! Anyway, fabulous. I didn't want to think about our fireplace as anything other than decorative until the 30 days in winter that we might like to use it. BAD DAWG!

Birkenstock Blast Radius

Jeff always feels the need to give me a bad time about my hippy origins. Here is the latest. Love it. I think next time I am home I will buy him a pair.