The past few days

I’ve been wishing we had cable- mainly because I’m on LONG waiting lists for the movies/television-series at the library and nothing has come in for a while. We’ve watched roughly 6 hours of birthing class videos and a Stages of Labor DVD. I just highjacked the Nova Miracle of Life special on DVD to watch tonight if we’re still this bored when I get home from work.  Anyways, I was thinking about maybe taking advantage of some sort of “free for 6 months deal” just for the remainder of my pregnancy and the first few months I’m stuck at home with a kid on my boob and nothing to stare at but the walls of my apartment.  G says no-way, no-how is he ever paying for cable, and I think that’s a good plan. I hate tv. But lately I’ve wanted it because of shows that TLC offers people like me. Apparently they’ve added a ton of reality-type shows about birthing, getting ready to birth, bringing home baby, all sorts of stuff that a person “in my condition**” would enjoy.  Heather Armstrong of says it best in this post….

G’s been having a tough time going through video-game withdrawal. Last night I found him in the basement trying to shut it off and drinking the LARGEST GLASS OF OLD SANGRIA (from last weekend’s party– it seriously smelled rancid) I’ve ever seen.  I could smell it from 5 feet away and said, “Um, got enough sangria?” He said, “Taste it.” So I tasted it…it seriously tasted like gasoline. He said, “I added more brandy.” Gag. I’m lucky the baby inside of me is still moving around because that sip alone probably could’ve killed him. Yuck. 

But I’m not saying anything to him, because everyone has vices. Everyone is (at some point or another) forced to give one up…or two, or like me…ALL OF THEM. The shitty thing about pregnancy is you can’t substitute one for another. You can’t stop smoking and pick up long-distance running when you’re pregnant. You just can’t. So I’m trying to be supportive as G kicks his World of Warcraft habit. In the meantime he has been quite crabby. I’m hoping to help him through it with chocolate, brownies, ice cream and today a package of rolos. The sweets tend to help his mood I think.

**The other day while G and I were sitting in the ultrasound room waiting on the doctor (for OVER AN HOUR), contemplating on sticking the internal ultrasound wand (looks like a dildo) in various orifices of G’s body just to get their damned attention and have someone GET TO US ALREADY- G said, “You know, that shirt you have on looks like it fits you, like it’s made for someone in your condition..” which was the closest thing to a compliment/feeling pretty I’ve had in a long long while. “Thanks honey, thanks,” I said.**


She’s only happy in the sun

So today is Friday, and I work on Saturday (tomorrow) so I had today off. Working in a library is weird- since we stay open on the weekends, our schedules get wonky. So that means I get Friday off and Sunday off– can’t really go anywhere or do anything (out of town) but you are instead forced to get all your errands ran in the one day of the week when everyone else is staring at a clock inside waiting for their two days off. So it’s a good thing and it’s a bad thing I guess. We don’t have to run errands on the weekend- but we also don’t have anyone to really hang out with on these Fridays either- because everyone else is at work.

Well today, my friend Kelly was in town from TN passing through on her way to a wedding in Mansfield, so I conned her into waking up early (9am is early for Kel) and going to First Watch with me for brunch. She and her other friend obliged, only instead of getting the typical breakfast fare I can normally rely on G indulging in with me, they both opted for granola, fruit and yogurt. I sighed. I couldn’t help but notice how tiny both of them appear in comparison to me (neither are pregnant) and remarked, “Well I guess it’s the time of year when you start watching what you eat because of swim suits and whatnot.” Dammit.

It was still nice to share some time with them. It made me miss my old life a little bit- wish that I could just drive up to a wedding with the windows down, barefoot with music blaring and a cigarette. I love summer. I love capri pants, tank tops and skirts, flip flops, gin and tonics, patios and front portches. I do not love cellulite on my arms (WTF?!) and blue veins that have appeared just under the surface of my skin. Anyways.

So I had to take these flip flops back for G. He’s needed new ones for a year now, and we’ve decided to jump on the Rainbow bandwagon that my brother Brett and Kristen have been on for several years now.  Apparently these shoes are durable, very comfortable (they “mold” to your feet) and have a lifetime warranty. So I splurged and bought some for G since he and I both hate buying shoes. I bought the wrong size yesterday, and had to go back up to the mall (gasp! I hate malls!) and exchange them for a larger size.  It was just better for me to guess and get the dirty work done for him. I think he’s happy with them.  While up there, I stopped in to Destination Maternity because my mom had attempted to purchase me some bras (due to my bitching and moaning about how none of mine fit anymore) for me, but she guessed the wrong size (as did I- I have no idea what size i am). So I had to take those back too.

I have mixed feelings about Destination Maternity. First off, all of the really cute stuff is super overpriced (ridiculous) and it’s located on one half of the store. Then on the other half of the store there’s mostly cute-enough stuff that will do, mixed in with some stuff that makes me ask– REALLY!? I mean, come on I wouldn’t wear this if I weren’t pregnant and my goal weight. Give me a break. One thing they DO offer- free water or orange juice for expectant moms (awesome) and also free bra fittings.

There was a time when Victoria’s Secret offered the same service (it’s been so long since I’ve been in VS that I don’t know if this still happens). When you walked into the store, a woman in a suit with a pink measuring tape draped around her neck like a fashionable scarf would ask you brightly, “Would you like a complimentary bra fitting????” And I would respond with, “Um no.” Because after all, I’ve been wearing the same bra size since I started wearing bras- 34B and our bodies/boobs/etc. don’t change at all between the ages 13 and 30, right???? Hahaha.

So I got “fitted” as a pregnant lady at 30 years old. Today I am a 34C or a 36B and I’ve been told, that within the next month or two I will go up another cup size. Um HELLO!? D’s?! WHAT?! I understand they’re mostly feed-bags but holy molyI already don’t know where to put the ones I have! They seem difficult to manage. The lady then brought me some (super fugly) nursing bras and a sleeping bra that she said “are doctor recommended”. What?

Un-pregnant, I avoided wearing bras at all costs. As soon as Old Navy came out with those shelf-tank tops 5 years ago, I might as well have thrown away all of my bras anyways. I just don’t like them. And now I have over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders. I have grown up boobs. Will they stay? Will they go? Will they work the way they’re supposed to when the child comes? Will my nipples end up “looking a little chewed up” as G says? Will I ever be able to go back to my shelf-tanks from Old Navy? These are the questions that pregnancy books don’t answer and even if they did it wouldn’t matter because of this wonderful little fact: Everyone is different. Blah. Anyways I ended up with a sleep bra, and two nursing bras. The nursing bras kind of look like stripper bras (you know- those harness like things minus the middle part) only they’re an ugly color of light brown and have big ugly straps- so come to think of it they don’t really look like stripper bras at all.  (P.S. Don’t Google “stripper bras” unless you want a bunch of dirty pop ups on your computer.)

My next dr. appointment is June 8th, where I’ll get another peek at Thumbkin, who I should now call ThumPkin- because that’s what he likes to do– thump into the walls of my stomach and I can see him bumping around in there like he’s trying to make more room for himself. Good luck buddy!

I believe that I’ve started getting those Braxton Hicks contractions things now- and they’re uncomfortabe..sometimes moreso than others. Yesterday at work I couldn’t seem to get my stomach to relax at all. They say to change your position (standing to sitting or vice versa) or eat or drink something…nothing worked. As soon as I sat down in my car, the muscles all relaxed and felt better. Go figure- work would stress me out enough to make my uterus contract up and feel like a bowling ball. When I told G, “I think work stresses me out and makes my gut all hard,” he looked at me like I was an idiot and said sarcastically, “Really!?”

Another letter to the boy:

Dear Thumbkin,

Hey baby. I’m sorry that you’re feeling more squished than ever. I’m not particularly comfortable these days either if it makes you feel any better. I’ve started getting really excited about you coming into the world- and sometimes I catch myself imagining us doing our errands together on my days off- someday when I feel confident enough to leave the house with you. I got some white clouds to hang up on the walls of your bedroom and they look great. Now one wall looks like a big blue sky and we can decorate it some more when you get here and tell me what you want to look at on the wall. I wonder if it will be a farm- or a fairy tale land, or if you’ll want to change it to space ships and constellations, or if you’ll want to just add an airplane and some birds and treetops to the blue sky on the wall. I know I have a long way to go, but I just can’t wait to find out what you like and dislike- how much like your Dad you’ll be and how much like me you’ll be…and how completely different from both of us you’ll be. (Though please discuss with us your reasoning before deciding to vote republican if you are going to be different from us. I can’t imagine that you would, but I’m not saying never.)

There are several things that aren’t done in your room and I’ve been doing my best to get it done before you come into the world. We still need a carpet on the floor (would you like a green one? like grass?) and to get all my clothes out of there and replaced with your own clothes…And I want to get you your very own cd player to put in the room so you can listen to the songs you like…we’ll get it done I promise.

If you’d like to try adjusting to my sleep schedule, that’d be great. I know doing the jitterbug in my belly at 3am is better than screaming in my ear, but if you would just sleep through 3 nights per week while you’re in there, maybe I can get caught up enough on sleep…I know, stop laughing.

Well I’m off to eat some zuchini bread and get you all hyped up on a sugar rush again. I can’t wait to see your little face on the monitor in another week and a half.




I don’t really have the time to be posting, and I’m flustered- moreso than normal. I feel like my blood pressure is raging and my brain is about to burst with thinking about just too much at once. Today was my Monday, only worse because it’s Tuesday- Tuesdays are the worst days of the week where I work, and it was even worse for me this week because I only had one full day off this weekend…hardly enough to recover from that many consecutive hours of librarying and librarianing.

Anyways, the short of it is:

  • I cry just about every time I leave the library where I used to work. I practically cry when I pull in the parking lot. I almost wish I never had to go there, ever and remind myself how much I love that place and all the people there. Ignorance is bliss I think.
  • I am down another pair of maternity pants, leaving me with four that fit, and about 10 that do not. This is because my ass and legs are widening. This does not make for a good morning or start to the week. 
  • We’ve put out hand sanitizer and Clorox wipes at work for the disinfecting of people’s hands and public workstations- in the hopes of getting rid of any potential “flus” that are out there. WHY THIS HASN”T BEEN GOING ON FOREVER IS BEYOND ME. However, today- I’ve noticed more people wiping their snotty noses and then using our computers/self-checks/pens/staplers/tape/etc. Than ever before.  I’m not afraid of the swine flu as much as the common cold or whatever other cooties these snot-nosed kids have.
  • It occurred to me today that I need to have a discussion with G about use of the words “gay” and “retard” because I’m concerned that our child may pick up on the hate speech and repeat him someday. I’m not looking forward to this conversation with G.
  • It’s taco night- but mostly because we can only afford the $2.49 taco kit and I have frozen turkey meat available…thank goodness we both like tacoes. I hate the second week of the pay period.
  • I feel like my belly has been getting harder or stretched out more or something. It’s probably true. I suppose there’s no way to stop it at this point.
  • I still crave a cigarette every. single. day.
  • I am looking forward to date-nights with Thumbkin once he is born. Meaning, I’ll be taking my son out on dates. What of it?
  • I saw two people today who were pregnant within the last year and both of them look fantastic- maybe even thinner than pre-pregnancy. I also heard a story of a size 6/8 girl who is now a size 14 and she’s just “living with it.” I am terrified that I will end up like that.

I am now officially off. Maybe I’ll be more coherent in a bit.


So tonight we went to Lowe’s. Again. We needed different screws to finish putting up our borrowed pot-rack in the kitchen.

I’ve had a bad couple of days. I think G picked up on this last night when I couldn’t sleep and tonight when I got home he wasn’t playing video games. Instead he was making suggestions on things we could do. Here were my options for entertainment tonight:

“We could hang up the pot-rack, I’ll need your help with that.”

“We could warm up that leftover pizza and make ravioli.”

“Or we could go out to eat, but we do have leftovers.”

“Or we could watch the rest of that movie and then watch another movie that we have here…”

So I said, “Sure- because my other options are sleeping and….staring.”

So we heated up pizza. He made ravioli. We started to hang the pot rack and the screws didn’t work. So we went to Lowe’s. And as we’re walking up and down the aisles at Lowe’s looking for more heavy duty screws, I hear the song
“You are the Sunshine of my Life” and start to cry because dammit, this is a depressing way to live. No wonder people don’t want to hang out with us. There used to be a million fun things to do on any given night. And now I’m at Lowe’s in my pajama pants feeling like the skin on my stomach is stretching so far it will never, ever bounce back without some sort of surgical help eventually. I can’t really explain this to G or my mom or anyone because people don’t quite get it. Or, I just want to start crying and would rather not end up blubbering so it’s just easier not to talk about it.

I just honestly can’t believe that this is it. This cannot be “it” for me. People who don’t own homes shouldn’t spend this much time at Lowe’s. Sad part? I was excited just to get out of the house.

Anyways, I’m no fun to be around. I wish I could sleep until August.

And all day today I wanted a cigarette today as badly as I did on the first day I quit. I think cigarettes might have been my actual friends before. At least there were 20 of them per pack. At least if I was bored then I could say, “I’m smoking” even if I was sitting and staring.


Well I was just telling G yesterday, “I can’t wait for the baby to come- just so I have someone to hang out with.”

I have great friends it’s just that their either inconveniently located (geographically speaking), or right now don’t really have much in common with me.  I miss being around people- Happy Hours and going out to bars and stuff. I think people don’t ask me to do that because either: A) I suck and am incredibly boring to talk to now that I’m pregnant or B) they don’t want to be the person walking into the bar with the pregnant person. I don’t know. I miss going out so much. I know it would be hard for me to do anyways because nothing really fits me or looks right (clothing-wise) but I would love to just sit and talk to people like I used to.

Giving up alcohol wasn’t that bad- it’s not tempting at all for me to be around it. I’ve sipped G’s beer and it doesn’t taste good- just like I gave up coffee- I see absolutely no point in indulging in either kind of beverage if you’re not going to smoke a cigarette with it.  Hopefully I’ll be able to figure something out after the baby’s born and enjoy at least wine and liquor again but I have a feeling I may never truly enjoy a real cup of coffee or a good beer in my lifetime if it’s not coupled with a smoke. Maybe I’m wrong but whatever…I’ve been off the nicotine for about four months now- I can handle being around other people who do it- I WANT To be around other people who are still living their lives the same way.

I guess what I’m saying is that there are some really shitty emotional things to deal with while going through this pregnancy.  I miss my friends- particularly the ones that I will soon have nearly nothing in common with anymore. It’s hard knowing that it’s only going to get worse, not better. I try to think of ways to lure them over to my house (food and even beer). Once a baby’s here it’s going to be even harder to find time and things to talk about with my friends.

I realize that I’m not ever going to be bored again, for the rest of my life, once Thumbkin is born. I’m okay with that and I’m trying to spin the boredom/loneliness I’m experiencing into a whole: “Oh-appreciate-the-quiet-time” mantra, but it’s just not working. I’ve cleaned the house, I’m maxed out on fridge space, I’ve treated myself to pedicures, I’ve watched the movies I have and don’t care to give Blockbuster anymore money, I have window shopped even though I don’t have any money to spend; I’ve gone on a walk. I’ve made a cake. I’m trying to be creative and keep myself busy but not much takes the place of relaxing and talking with a friend or five. I used to do it all the time.

I don’t know. I guess I’m saying I need to put together some sort of personal ad for friends- not for new friends to replace the old, but for friends that have a thing or two in common with me. I’ll think about how that would go and maybe post it later. Or I might just go sit and wistfully look out the window eating peanut butter m&ms. We’ll see.

bathroom massacre

I remembered some things I wanted to blog about last night when I was brushing my teeth:  blood comes out of my face and mouth now that I’m pregnant. Everytime I blow my nose there’s blood in the Kleenex, and NO I’m not normally someone who performs snot/booger analysis after each blow. Also: after I brush my teeth it looks like I’ve attempted murder in the sink. It’s disturbing, even though the books and websites warn you about it. And yes, I should probably go to the dentist but I’ll be damned if I’m going to a dentist without the benefit of drugs or at least nitrous oxide gas. I’m less afraid of childbirth, than of another root canal.

Also- am I EVER going to NOT want a cigarette!?!?!?!?!?!?? I mean, I can smell them from a mile away and I stare at people smoking. I hope they don’t think that I am judging them- I’m not. I’m just glaring at them because I wish the smoke didn’t smell so appealing. I wish I didn’t want one. I’m probably the only pregnant person in the world who’s craved vodka and cigarettes right along with hamburgers and ice cream. (I normally don’t even like vodka! That IS weird for me.) Don’t worry, I’m continuing to abstain from alcohol and cigarettes- and I keep reading about these tax hikes on smokes and feeling sorry for those smokers who will continue to smoke and just have to switch to crappier brands like Dorals or something. Yea “they” SAY this will make smokers quit. But it will only make the smokers who were planning to quit sometime anyways quit more quickly. The other smokers? The ones who spend most of their social security checks on cigarettes, malt liquor and maybe a couple runs to the Mickey D’s drive thru? Those people will continue to smoke until you force them to rob the stores or just jump people on the street who smell like cigarettes, demanding they hand them over. You’ll never get those people to quit. Never. Quitting is HARD, and it makes me so pissed off when the media gets all didactic and preachy about how raising the prices should make people quit.  Those people have no idea how much easier life is (for smokers) if they smoke, versus how hard it is when they don’t (i.e. attempt to quit).  How much does heroin cost? Crack? Coke? I think people are still using those things, regardless of the cost AND the fact that they’re illegal.

And I still want a cigarette….

I think the baby doesn’t like the pants I have on. They are low-rise maternity jeans and they’re hitting my belly right where the baby is. I think it’s making him uncomfortable because I can feel weird things going on. It’s distracting!

It’s not often that you read about cigarettes and babies in the same blog posting.

We get the keys to the apartment tonight!!!! Hooray! Might not hear from me for a few days- I’ll be sure to follow up and give you details and/or pictures- assuming that G hasn’t killed me before the end of our moving extravaganza…