Warning....cranky pregnant woman posting

Who's red and likes to stick his tongue out?  This guy:

And for the last few days, this guy fits that description as well:

Suddenly,  his favorite color is red, he carries his prized Lightning McQueen and Mater toys around everywhere, and asking him, "What does Lightening McQueen do?" gets you a good view of his tongue.  And, for the win, I can get a few minutes to fold laundry by putting Cars on for him to watch...mother of the year award, here I come.

Today is/was the last day of school.  Traditionally, I take the boys out for an ice cream cone or SnoCone...but as the weather hasn't hit 60 since last week (&%$!&$&!, Logan!), that wasn't so appealing.  Instead, the boys argued endlessly about where they wanted to go until I finally had enough and made a command decision to go somewhere we didn't even end up going (have I mentioned that I've been a JOY to be around the last few days?) and then the boys ended up getting Aggie Ice Cream ANYWAYS, but it took them--especially Ethan, the indecisive--literally a half hour to decide.  To get Aggie ice cream in Logan's version of Honeyduke's Sweetshop.  For the love. 

In other news, I'm coming perilously close to geeking out our daughter.  Perilously close, because while her first name is pretty much set (and relatively normal), I'm having a hard time with the names we've discussed for her middle name, and the only one I even remotely like is SERIOUSLY THE SIGN OF HAVING DORKY PARENTS, neither of whom are very girly (including the female one), both of whom are TERRIFIED of having a daughter who wants to be a cheerleader and whose brain leaks out of her ears on command because she thinks boys think that's cute (no comment on the boys who actually think it is.  Idiots!).  In an attempt to distract her from that path, I'm trying to talk Jon into giving her the name of a princess who has the following conversation (hint: her name is NOT Aurora, or even Belle):


(The name I like): Women of this country learned long ago: those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain.

(very manly man): What do you fear, my lady?

(the name I like): A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire.

(very manly man): You're a daughter of kings. A shieldmaiden of [country name would give it away]. I do not think that will be your fate.

See?  She's a pretty cool girl, as I measure things (but like I said, I'm not a very good girl).  She's the kind of princess I can deal with...and by giving the fetus her name, we would ensure that the fetus's preferred princess will be Ariel or some other fluff-brained wonder along the lines of  "How long have you known him?/One day...and tomorrow, it will be TWO!"  (although I have to admit that Eric was the cutest of the Disney princes.)


Note:  a woman who is under the influence of hormones to this degree SHOULD NOT be allowed to make major, life-affecting decisions (such as naming a human being).

To wrap things up, because this is already taking much longer than it should, I would like to pass on my current Brain Worm, which I picked up from Elise (thanks a lot, by the way)...and then it mutated into...THIS, also known as The Song Everyone Wants to Have Stuck in Their Heads:

Yo! Pump up the jam
pump it up
pump it up
Yo! Pump it!
pump up the jam
pump it up
pump it up
Yo! Pump it
pump up the jam
pump it up
pump it up
Yo! Pump it
pump up the jam
pump it (echo)

You're welcome.