Answers to Common Pregnancy Questions (It's not what you think)

1. Wow! It looks like you're about done with being pregnant! Are you? No, you freaking moron. I LOVE having a watermelon that kicks displacing all my internal organs for months on end. I especially love the handstands on my bladder and the fact that my hips have spread far enough apart to making walking through a doorway squarely a near thing. It's AWESOME! Five weeks is seriously an eternity at this point. Thanks for bringing it up. Now I'm going to spend the rest of the day moping. Good job. 
2. You know what causes that, right? Yes. Whipped cream and handcuffs. 
3. What are you having? Well, I'm a human and so is my spouse, so I'm going to go with "human baby". Have you had experiences that would lead you to believe I should be expecting something different? Although a Time Lord would be cool...
4. Is there anything I can do to help? Probably. But I'm going to say "No, I'm fine" because you haven't talked to me in almost a year/I barely know you/I think you're a moron/I have a hard time excepting help from others (pick one). However if you show up to take one or more of my other kids one day or drop by a healthy meal around 4 or 5pm, I might just dissolve into tears of gratitude. Delivering a cup of crushed ice would probably net similar results.
5. How many kids do you have? Two. Wow. I heard three is really the breaking point for so many people. I mean, you only have two arms. What are you going to do? Giving my crankiest child to you has crossed my mind. 

Poop, Pits, Presents, Parents, and Parties

1. Zsa Zsa calls Pinocchio "Dokey-Doke" which is just about as adorable as she gets, these days. Between the stained clothing, the food messes she makes on the carpet, and the poop accidents it's a pretty good thing she can come up with cuteness once in a while or she'd be cut from the family team. Plus, she's apparently the only one who loves me right now (see #4).
2. My arm pits are undergoing scientific experimentation. You see, one of the side effects of being a freaking hormonal train wreck is, in my case, itchy pits. Today I shaved one and the other is on day four of shaggnastyness. One pit is sporting Degree and the other is slathered in Tom's of Maine. This is after four days of no pit juice stopper at all so, you know, you're welcome for that. I seriously hope my underarms and I can come to some kind of understanding BEFORE the baby gets here, because it we don't I may seriously scratch them clean off. I wake up digging around in there, which is clearly not good for the 'ol manicure. 
3. The UPS guy came today. We call him the present man, because that's what I've been calling him since I was four. Today the box contained legs for our Sleep Number Bed. We've had this bed for just over three years. It didn't come with legs. Why a bed would come without legs is beyond me, but in any case, Sleep Number got an extra $98 out of us so I hope they're happy. I'm hoping the added elevation makes it easier to roll out of bed and into the bathroom. Time is of the essence, people. 
4. For the last week, The Boy has been lamenting the fact that he is not yet grown up. Today he came up with this little gem, "I super wish I didn't have parents anymore. Then I could do everything for myself!" Oh. I can SO make that happen, little dude. Tomorrow when you want me to turn on a show, I'm not gonna do it because you are all grown up and can do it on your own. I'm also not fixing you any food, taking you anywhere or cleaning anything. Rent is due at the first of the month.  Put that in your grown up pipe and smoke it, you ungrateful little turd.  I'm kinda over the whole being taken for granted thing, anyway. You can pay me for the time and effort I put into your well being. Plus, and I may have mentioned this, HoRmoNaL TrAiN wReCk. 
5. Number 4 is because SOMEONE let him watch Jimmy Neutron. Repeatedly. I know he's just parroting a show, but it seriously doesn't make it hurt any less. See above for details on why. Something about trains...
6. We are on the downward slope toward Zsa Zsa's third birthday. I have no idea what we are doing for it, but people have been invited, so clearly we will be doing something even if that something is sitting around staring at each other. Perhaps we can sit around the training potty and chant "poop, Zsa Zsa! Poop!" This could potentially solve part of the problem in #1. I'm working madly on her present; a felt playhouse that fits over the card table I bought especially for this purpose. How we managed 7 years of married life without a card table, I'll never know. 

The Post Wherein I Insult People of Nominal Intelligence and Large Bank Accounts

I'm kinda grumpy. It could just be the hormones, but I sort of want to punch Santa in the face for being at the mall before Thanksgiving has even had a chance to get here.
It feels like the stores are telling me to HURRY UP AND BUY CRAP!!!! FORGET ABOUT BEING THANKFUL!!!

Thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday. Partly because it's an excuse to eat as much pumpkin pie as I can possibly fit in my tummy-guilt free, and partly because it's not about STUFF; it's about being grateful. Easter is my favorite holiday for nearly the same reasons, except you can sub Cadbury mini eggs for pie. I also like that I have an entire day devoted to feeling grateful for my Savior. How cool is that? (Also, if someone can explain how colored eggs and a bunny fits in with the Resurrection, I'm all ears.)


Anyway, back to wanting to punch Santa in the face.

Today I read about this thing called a Baby Planner or Baby Consultant. Yes, these are real people. They apparently help you buy the best gear for your little Smurf or Smurfette. I'll admit my first thought upon hearing about this was, what is F-ing WRONG with people? My second thought was, how can I take advantage of these morons?" 


Seriously, if you have THAT much money, and no common sense, don't I have a moral obligation to relieve you of your excess Benjamins? Someone should and it may as well be me, since I actually know how to use money, unlike the flakes who hire a Baby Consultant.

Here's a little piece of free advice that includes all the things you MUST have to care for your new baby: baby carrier, diapers, wipes, some clothes, and if you want to obey the law-a car seat. If you're feeling particularly daring, might I suggest you go get a BRAIN as well?
Holy Toledo. If you need any more help, I'd be happy to consult for you. I won't even insult you (to your face). My fee starts at $500 an hour. Trust me, I'm VERY worth it. I'm so full of opinions, I needed a blog to spout them all.

PS Bill, this one was for you.

Chemical Romance? Or Not

I have this four year old, and it's really easy for me to forget how GOOD he is, compared to other kids his age. I guess I needed a reminder that really, he's fantastically behaved most of the time.

Cue creepy music


That is, until yesterday.
Our normal Sunday evening consists of going to Grandma and Grandpa's house for dinner. While there, The Boy always finds time to go to the barn and sit on the quads. He loves the quads. He loves imagining himself driving the quads. Everyone is fine with this arrangement. At least, we were until yesterday.

About 7pm a younger cousin comes in crying and waving his arms about. Cousin smells strongly of chemicals. Older cousins come in carrying a container of metal cutting fluid called Tap Magic. The eye wash makes an appearance and cousin gets his eyes rinsed and then gets thrown in the shower for an extended scrubbing.
About this time, The Boy wanders in. Oh my. He smells like Tap Magic. He has a chemical burn coming up on his face and the back of his neck.
After washing and some extensive questioning during which we promise no one will get in trouble, we just need to know EXACTLY what happened, we learn the following~
The Boy and Cousin actually found TWO bottles of Tap. They thought it would be fun to squirt them all over the barn, themselves, and each other. In the process, they also got the quads and the motorcycles.
Hubs and I went to the barn to investigate the damage. Who knew two six ounce cans could go so far?

We had an intense and prolonged conversation about NOT PLAYING WITH CHEMICALS EVER.

Fast forward to this morning. We woke up to The Boy in the upper reaches of the laundry room cupboards, spraying chemicals and a mysterious white power all over the entire room, my hall and himself.

In a bit I'm running to the store for zip ties. From now on, a certain little boy is getting cuffed to his bed at night to preempt his mama getting any more grey hairs. And Grandpa has promised to lock the barn for the next few weeks before The Boy comes to visit.

I am NOT in love with this behavior.

Note: after a visit with the doctor today, it turns out he's got an ear infection. That kind of explains the rash of nasty behavior he's been having. Acting out when he doesn't feel well is kinda par for the course with this kid, as is not actually TELLING us what's WRONG and expecting us to read minds. 

A Whole New Level of Crazy

So I woke up last Wednesday knowing my mama's birthday was a couple days away. I also knew all my sisters were going home to surprise her and I'd be the only one stuck in a different state singing "Happy Birthday" via Skype. So I did what any completely neurotic person would do: I looked up flights home.

Guess what?

I found one. For $35 each, round trip. Yeah. The only catch was, the plane left from Vegas at 8am the next day.

Here's the part where I prove I'm a neurotic pregnant person: I drove to the airport (to avoid online booking fees) waited in line for two and a half hours with my squirrelly kids, and BOUGHT THE TICKETS. 

Then I raced home to pack my family. We left at 4pm that same day. I did mention I'm completely neurotic right now, didn't I? OK, then. We stayed the night with my sister's husband's uncle and aunt. No, we've never met them before. Yes, they live in a castle. We had our own wing for the 6 hours we were there.

We got up at 5am to catch our flight, managed it (just) and arrived in gloriously cool Idaho right before lunch. My sister picked me up and dropped me at the school where my mom works. Here's the video of her being totally surprised by my children. :D

I spent the ENTIRE weekend recovering from getting there. Seriously. I didn't even have the energy to make my mom a real birthday dinner two days later. We bought pizza.

Sunday my son comes into my room absolutely BEGGING to stay at Grandma's for "a real long long long time". I'd have said yes in a heartbeat but as it was, our car was sitting in the Vegas Airport Economy lot accruing fees at a staggering rate for some place called 'economy' and if we didn't go back and free it soon, we'd never be able to afford to. Honestly, parking cost more than one of the tickets. It was obscene.

The flight home was delayed, which just made the six hour drive home in the rain that much more enjoyable. Luckily I'd packed some Preparation H for the drive home (oh, the things nobody tells you about pregnancy...)

It's been cool and glorious since we've gotten home, but I haven't been able to rest because Recipe Club is at my house today. It turns out when you decide to travel, and then leave the same day, your housekeeping suffers. I've spent the last day and a half just putting things back together. I have no idea how (clean) kid underwear ended up in the fruit drawer of the fridge.
I'm super glad our plane didn't crash because then people (my in laws) would have seen my house like this, and they might actually think it was NORMAL for us. Gah! The embarrassment!

In other news, you shouldn't let your kids pack any part of their own luggage without at least checking it over first. I asked The Boy to get his Sunday shoes and put them in the bag. It wasn't until church on Sunday that we found he'd packed a non-matching pair. At least there was a left and right shoe...

I'd be a super crappy wife if I didn't mention that Husband was incredibly nice to let me haul my family across the country last minute. While he didn't enjoy the getting there, he did have a fun time surprising my mom. The weekend was kind of hectic for him, as he was moving all his software to different servers for work and had to stay up most of Saturday night with the rest of the Geeks from work to get it done. Luckily, he could do it from anywhere. Plus, it was cold enough in Idaho to warrant hot chocolate, and that always makes him happy.

Mad, in a Completely Irrational Way

So last night we visited some relatives, because isn't Halloween like, a relative holiday or something?
Seriously. It's Christmas-Light.
While there, I was accosted YET AGAIN by a relative who knows only that I'm not exactly going to have my baby in a hospital. Probably. Whatever. Like it's any of their business what I do with my va-jay-jay, or where I take it, right? Personal autonomy means NOTHING when you are pregnant with progeny, apparently.
(I'm thinking of getting a shirt that says, "Don't Mind Me, I'm Just the Incubator".)
So I shrug off the encounter which included the relative telling me that I was discussed with ANOTHER relative who's a pediatrician. And they both think I'm a raging lunatic. Never mind the fact that that relative hasn't ever MET me.

Sweet.

(At some point I'm going to have to explain why I have trust issues with doctors. When you've worked with them as closely as I have, and seen their personnel files/law suits/incident reports the rose colored glasses tend to come off.)

Granted, I probably didn't handle the entire conversation with any sort of grace or tact, but I super felt bombarded. If I'm going to have the kind of conversation that includes someone essentially calling me a moron, I'd at least like to come to it prepared with relevant statistics or a baseball bat.

Anyway, I tried to maintain my "bubble of peace" but I woke up steaming mad at 1am. Here's the thing, I was MOST upset with my husband. Isn't he supposed to protect me from this kind of crap? No matter that he wasn't even in the room when it occurred. (That's the irrational part of this.) I tried to go back to sleep, but ended up yelling at The Hubs via email instead. THEN I went back to sleep. (Don't worry, I apologized in the email AND in the AM for being completely neurotic.)

So in the end I wished that I had the kind of yap that could stay shut and keep my business to my self, but deep down I'm super insecure and need lots of people to tell me what a great idea all my plans are and how awesome everything sounds. Or at the very least, to have them just nod and smile. I'm really quite needy.

This kind of situation is exactly why we didn't tell anyone we were pregnant for like, ever. (That, and because I have this irrational fear that a blog stalker will find out where I live and steal my baby out of my belly. Pregnancy turns me into a crazy person.) But at this point it's getting a little hard to disguise the bowling ball the proceeds me everywhere I go.

So until the baby comes I'm seriously considering avoiding all family gatherings. It seems safer.
What would you do?