I’m not drinking/I’m not fat

Despite Ryan playing Tiger Woods 2011 for 798370 minutes this evening, I can proclaim this weekend as “summer fun in the sun.” One highlight: meeting the Rileys (Allyson & Pat–friends of ours) @ Marge’s (best bar in Rochester). The beach access was dreamy, the ambiance was perfection, and my tonic water w/lime was refreshing. Speaking of tonic water w/lime, it bears a striking resemblance to a mixed drink.

(I have to pause for a moment–I’m now witnessing Ryan dancing in front of the television screen all because his brother-in-law bought a bluetooth headset & they can talk while playing Playstation. Cool.)

Ok, back to story. For those of you whom I haven’t seen recently–as in the past two weeks–my body is changing & it’s becoming more obvious that I’m prepping these child-bearing hips of mine to push out a newborn. No, it’s not protruding, but it’s a bump. And, in certain attire, it looks like every meal for me is Thanksgiving. So while drinking my tonic water, I wanted so badly to make an announcement to the fellow patrons. It would go something like this: “Hi there. No, my breakfast of choice is not a baker’s dozen of donuts. Turns out I’m pregnant. Thank you.” Then I’d recognize I had another point to make: “Oh, and this is not a gin & tonic or vodka tonic or vodka on the rocks. Nope, just tonic water. So, umm…cheers. Enjoy your evening.”

Although this announcement was never formally made, I forcefully made audible mentions of how great the tonic water is at Marge’s to quell any looks of suspicion.

Before I say “farewell,” I’d like to extend my Father’s Day greetings to all fathers & fathers-to-be (especially the handsome one prancing around my living room with a bluetooth in his ear). More personally, Happy Father’s Day, Senor Jeffe (soon to be Abuelo Jeffe and also known as my Dad—PS, Dad: I’m really jonesing to watch “Napoleon Dynamite”), Danny (my step-father), & Dennis (my father-in-law).

PS to you, the reader: Baby Teeter’s teeny ear bones are developing this week! Why the excitement? There’s a free Eddie Money concert on Thursday. Baby Teeter’s first concert that he/she will hear+ one of Mama Buroff-Teeter’s favorite singers = Yahtzee!


We’re moving!

Hi friends! I hope the sudden switch to wordpress for my blog’s host site will actually encourage you to continue following my (our) journey into motherhood. Although I enjoyed the aesthetics of the blogspot site, it didn’t have the capacity to enable me to insert photos and videos throughout my post (it would keep the photo at the top of the post). Perhaps I was unable to master blogspot & inserting photos throughout a post is possible–if so, tell me. So, yes, I’m particular with my blog’s format & yes, I hope you stick around.


Nearly two weeks have passed since my last post on blogspot. Not to fear–I’ll catch you up!

Last week, the sickness that plagued me circa week no. 6 returned. It failed to produce anything pretty. My psyche has begun to rebuild itself. Truthfully, continuously feeling rotten can bring you down to a low, dark, and sad lil’ existence. Yes, I’m overjoyed to know that Baby Teeter is developing his/her teeny body inside mine; however, feeling like the only friend you have is a bed or couch to rest upon reminds you of your new lack of self-control. I became hermit-esque in behavior whilst knowing a light had to be flickering somewhere yonder.

I think I’ve found the light. Or at least I’ve experienced the radiating warmth of the light because better days appear to be in store. This week, I’ve felt delightful. No sudden, random requests for classroom coverage so I can visit with the commode. Food is gradually regaining it’s lust-worthy appeal. So much so I ate two hamburgers last week. Whaaaat?

(FYI: I’ve tried to remain true to a vegetarian lifestyle since 2003. The occasional slip is courtesy of local restaurants who offer chicken wings and the hot dog vendor @ a sporting event. Eating red meat, though, is a rare event to witness.)

As a hamburger entered my sight on Wednesday, I insisted Ryan share it. The following evening, I ordered one at dinner. No contemplating necessary. Strangely enough, I found myself engrossed in Skinny Bitch: Bun in the Oven during a visit to Barnes & Noble last Saturday. Strange? Read on.    Continue reading