So, Apollo Puppy REALLY stinks. He really needs a bath. However, our shower stall is tiny, imagine bathing a 120-pound dog in tiny-ass shower. Not a pretty thought - and may I even say possible....so we bring him to this self-serve doggie wash a few towns away and pay $20 to get him fresh and clean.
On another thought - we now have some clean laundry...about a week and a half worth of it. It's such a pain in the ass to do it, since we have to go to a laundrymat...ick. Then again, there are always loads of individuals to stare at because they just look like inbred morons that grew up too close to a nuclear power plant.
Exciting news, though! A former coworker of mine is also pregnant! I shall dub her, for blog purposes, NT. NT is a pretty cool chick, if I may say so myself. So, it's definitely great to go through pregnancy with someone I know! I'm excited for her...pretty neat.
Anyway, speaking of stinky...I really stink tonight. I wrote a letter to Gas, but it paid no mind to little ole me. Poor Mr. M...he's going to have plenty of bedtime stories to tell Baby M when he/she is old enough to appreciate some good fart jokes.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Facebook, anyone?
It's getting harder and harder to not say anything on Facebook lately. We're letting the news trickle out little by little - but waiting until 13w1day to post the big announcement on FB. And I'm racking my (almost non-existent) brain on the big HOW to do this. Should I have Mr. M take a better Baby Tummy pic and just post it? Or should we do an email, or what? I like one idea, then I'll think of something else!
A random thought for the moment: absolutely nothing. I forgot what I was going to say.
I'll post more tonight after we do laundry.
A random thought for the moment: absolutely nothing. I forgot what I was going to say.
I'll post more tonight after we do laundry.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Zits, quacks and baby stuff
I'm going to start off saying that whoever said pregnancy clears up your skin? Is full of shit. Really dark, stinky, sticky...dog-doo.
My skin has never broken out this bad. Boo.
So. To you guys who say your skin cleared up? Shut it. It's all bullshit.
On a second thought....here's a tummy pic...! Our very first tummy pic! I love this part - I can't wait to document how my tummy grows...it's amazing - I do feel as though my body was made for this. The angle is a bit odd, as Mr. M was lying down, and I was standing up - I was actually trying to suck in the belly! Something I can't do anymore...so yes, most of it is chubbies, but there is a teensy bit of baby bump!
Ooo...! Also...Mr. M's stepmom got us our first baby item. It's so cute. A little bunting that has a monkey on it. I loved it.
About a week or two later, Mr. M's sister went through the clothes I gave her for her baby (some Winnie the Pooh stuff), and basically gave them back to me. Then, his mom got us a little nightgown that has Winnie the Pooh on it. What can I say? I LOVE Winnie the Pooh. I also love monkeys.
I can completely understand the art of re-gifting, but for the sake of manners, why do people think it's ok to re-gift things to the person who originally gave them the item? In my humble opinion, it's definitely tacky.
On the other hand, my mother in law and I got into this argument this afternoon about alternative medicine versus medical medicine. She believes anything this guy she goes to says to her. I don't believe a single thing. Oh well. Our child..not hers. I simply like to do my own research and look all sides to the story. She only believes one story, and it's that of this guy she's been going to for over 20 years.
But? At the end of the day, I just let it go, because it's not worth it to start fights. And? Mr. M and I don't plan on doing anything without doing a lot of research into it - not listening to just one person.
My skin has never broken out this bad. Boo.
So. To you guys who say your skin cleared up? Shut it. It's all bullshit.
On a second thought....here's a tummy pic...! Our very first tummy pic! I love this part - I can't wait to document how my tummy grows...it's amazing - I do feel as though my body was made for this. The angle is a bit odd, as Mr. M was lying down, and I was standing up - I was actually trying to suck in the belly! Something I can't do anymore...so yes, most of it is chubbies, but there is a teensy bit of baby bump!
Ooo...! Also...Mr. M's stepmom got us our first baby item. It's so cute. A little bunting that has a monkey on it. I loved it.
About a week or two later, Mr. M's sister went through the clothes I gave her for her baby (some Winnie the Pooh stuff), and basically gave them back to me. Then, his mom got us a little nightgown that has Winnie the Pooh on it. What can I say? I LOVE Winnie the Pooh. I also love monkeys.
I can completely understand the art of re-gifting, but for the sake of manners, why do people think it's ok to re-gift things to the person who originally gave them the item? In my humble opinion, it's definitely tacky.
On the other hand, my mother in law and I got into this argument this afternoon about alternative medicine versus medical medicine. She believes anything this guy she goes to says to her. I don't believe a single thing. Oh well. Our child..not hers. I simply like to do my own research and look all sides to the story. She only believes one story, and it's that of this guy she's been going to for over 20 years.
But? At the end of the day, I just let it go, because it's not worth it to start fights. And? Mr. M and I don't plan on doing anything without doing a lot of research into it - not listening to just one person.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Lethal Weapon, Part XIXIXIXI
To any of you who've been pregnant before, did you experience that horrid gas that I have been having?
I shit you not. It's BAD. Mr. M dies when I fart. I die when I fart. So far, the only living being in my home who doesn't mind wrath of my ass is Apollo Puppy. He likes to stick his nose right where the smell is. I know. Disgusting.
So, I have now dubbed myself "Lethal Weapon". Yup. I'm gross, I know.
I shit you not. It's BAD. Mr. M dies when I fart. I die when I fart. So far, the only living being in my home who doesn't mind wrath of my ass is Apollo Puppy. He likes to stick his nose right where the smell is. I know. Disgusting.
So, I have now dubbed myself "Lethal Weapon". Yup. I'm gross, I know.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Stubborn Baby M
This afternoon, Mr. M and I went to see our OB. I thought we were going to do the first trimestre testing (Nuchal Transulency), but apparently, were sent down for a quickie ultrasound instead. Later on, the OB asked us if we planned on doing the tests.
Oh. Oops. I forgot. Ok.
I forget a lot these days. I think I can safely and fairly say that pregnancy brain truly exists. I'll call someone, and by the time they pick up, I've forgotten who I'm calling. Or, there are times that I give Mr. M the fish eye and I don't remember why when he asks.
Yupper. It does exist, indeed.
Aannywayys. I left my office with about 15 minutes to get to the OB's office - as I'm pulling out of the driveway, Mr. M texted me to let him know he was there already! Ok. I got stuck behind 3 school buses that stopped EVERYWHERE. Had I gotten pulled over at the speed I was going, I think my ass would have been hauled to jail for a few hours. I make it to the OB's office about 10 minutes late, and we sit. And wait a little longer.
There was a billing issue that had to be taken care of prior to being seen by the doctor. Since my health insurance is a health savings account sort of plan, my deductible is $2,500.00 prior to anything being covered. It's not too bad, actually - the OB's office placed us on a payment plan which is affordable. Then again, we'll probably hit the deductible WAY before we have Baby M, and in an odd way, it's nice to see how much we get billed vs. how much we are allowed to pay per the insurance company.
Billing issue taken care of, we're called inside. Get to go pee. Yippee. We talked to the nurse for a little before she brought us into an examing room, where we waited for the doctor.
Fast forward a few minutes - Dr. comes in, ready with a little doppler machine so that we can hear the baby's heartbeat. Well - he tried looking for it for about 2 or 3 minutes and then sent us downstairs for a quickie ultrasound. I have to admit - I was worried sick that there would be no heartbeat! So off we go to the downstairs area for the ultrasound.
I think my heart actually stopped beating for a good 5 minutes until the ultrasound techie found Baby M and was able to detect the heartbeat, which came in a nice, beautiful, strong 174 beats per minute. And? The little bugger squirmed the entire time the techie was measuring the heartbeat! She had to repeat the measurements a few times.
So. Baby M, you are now called Stubborn Baby. Although Mr. M insists that the baby's already taking after its mommy. Pot, this is the kettle. You're black.
It was definitely exciting to see something so active in my tummy - but at the same time, now I know why the round ligament pain can be so fierce! Baby M apparently likes the left side of my uterus. Youch.
Oh. Oops. I forgot. Ok.
I forget a lot these days. I think I can safely and fairly say that pregnancy brain truly exists. I'll call someone, and by the time they pick up, I've forgotten who I'm calling. Or, there are times that I give Mr. M the fish eye and I don't remember why when he asks.
Yupper. It does exist, indeed.
Aannywayys. I left my office with about 15 minutes to get to the OB's office - as I'm pulling out of the driveway, Mr. M texted me to let him know he was there already! Ok. I got stuck behind 3 school buses that stopped EVERYWHERE. Had I gotten pulled over at the speed I was going, I think my ass would have been hauled to jail for a few hours. I make it to the OB's office about 10 minutes late, and we sit. And wait a little longer.
There was a billing issue that had to be taken care of prior to being seen by the doctor. Since my health insurance is a health savings account sort of plan, my deductible is $2,500.00 prior to anything being covered. It's not too bad, actually - the OB's office placed us on a payment plan which is affordable. Then again, we'll probably hit the deductible WAY before we have Baby M, and in an odd way, it's nice to see how much we get billed vs. how much we are allowed to pay per the insurance company.
Billing issue taken care of, we're called inside. Get to go pee. Yippee. We talked to the nurse for a little before she brought us into an examing room, where we waited for the doctor.
Fast forward a few minutes - Dr. comes in, ready with a little doppler machine so that we can hear the baby's heartbeat. Well - he tried looking for it for about 2 or 3 minutes and then sent us downstairs for a quickie ultrasound. I have to admit - I was worried sick that there would be no heartbeat! So off we go to the downstairs area for the ultrasound.
I think my heart actually stopped beating for a good 5 minutes until the ultrasound techie found Baby M and was able to detect the heartbeat, which came in a nice, beautiful, strong 174 beats per minute. And? The little bugger squirmed the entire time the techie was measuring the heartbeat! She had to repeat the measurements a few times.
So. Baby M, you are now called Stubborn Baby. Although Mr. M insists that the baby's already taking after its mommy. Pot, this is the kettle. You're black.
It was definitely exciting to see something so active in my tummy - but at the same time, now I know why the round ligament pain can be so fierce! Baby M apparently likes the left side of my uterus. Youch.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Blah, blah, blah
So I'm home sick today. I've felt like shit since yesterday morning...luckily, it seems like it's getting better. I've really only had the flu once in my life, and I'm no longer even sure this would be categorized as such.
But...the funny part is, I'm incapable of doing 'nothing'. So I swept the floor in the apartment. I put away the clean laundry. I took out ALL of Mr. M's drawers, and organized them FINALLY. They were a mess. I even rolled his socks for him.
Then I ate some Campbell's chicken noodle soup and now am curled up in bed again.
I think I'm going to take care of some registry stuff. For those of you who don't know me that well, I have a tendency to change my mind with regard to purchases. For now, we're registered at BuyBuyBaby and Babies R Us, but (A) I'm not a fan of Babies R Us, and (B) BuyBuyBaby's closest store is about an hour away from us. Grrr. And then, to make matters much more confusing for me, my friend Future Mrs. T mentioned yesterday that Amazon has a baby registry, too!
Ok...so I have a lot of research to do. I love consumer reports, and then Mrs. C also told me that I need to just read the individual user reviews on the stores' sites.
So I guess I have my afternoon cut out for me. I get to fix all the registry stuff.
Oh. Mr. M was peeking through the baby names book I borrowed from Mrs. C, and he goes "If it's a boy, I really like Dylan". Hmmm...me not so sure. He's going to have to convince me on that one. Then again, I really like the name Lucas and he doesn't...we're obviously still at the drawing board for names, but at some point, we'll have to agree on one, no?
But...the funny part is, I'm incapable of doing 'nothing'. So I swept the floor in the apartment. I put away the clean laundry. I took out ALL of Mr. M's drawers, and organized them FINALLY. They were a mess. I even rolled his socks for him.
Then I ate some Campbell's chicken noodle soup and now am curled up in bed again.
I think I'm going to take care of some registry stuff. For those of you who don't know me that well, I have a tendency to change my mind with regard to purchases. For now, we're registered at BuyBuyBaby and Babies R Us, but (A) I'm not a fan of Babies R Us, and (B) BuyBuyBaby's closest store is about an hour away from us. Grrr. And then, to make matters much more confusing for me, my friend Future Mrs. T mentioned yesterday that Amazon has a baby registry, too!
Ok...so I have a lot of research to do. I love consumer reports, and then Mrs. C also told me that I need to just read the individual user reviews on the stores' sites.
So I guess I have my afternoon cut out for me. I get to fix all the registry stuff.
Oh. Mr. M was peeking through the baby names book I borrowed from Mrs. C, and he goes "If it's a boy, I really like Dylan". Hmmm...me not so sure. He's going to have to convince me on that one. Then again, I really like the name Lucas and he doesn't...we're obviously still at the drawing board for names, but at some point, we'll have to agree on one, no?
Monday, March 22, 2010
A vent of sorts
At this point, I'm eleven (eeek! That's 11!!!) weeks pregnant...this means the following:
I'm almost out of the first trimestre;
Mr. M and I need to get our butts in gear making plans (all that fun financial stuff);
Mr. M and I can officially spread the news via whichever way we wish. I will most likely just send a link to this blog to everyone I know. I'm a bitch like that.
Seriously. We have life insurance to purchase, wills to write, guardians to appoint, and we also each have to make sure the other will be taken care of should something happen to one of us. Oooo, yes. Very grim thoughts indeed. But you should see what goes on inside my mind on a daily basis. Sometimes I wish death upon my neighbours for being loud. There are days when I will flip everyone on the road off simply because I'm in a bad mood.
And...oh. Yes. Yours truly does not wish to become a statistic and being a single mother being admitted into the hospital come her EDD. So...Mr. M will be tying the knot this summer...where, is beyond us, for we have to iron out the details, still - such as the date, which depends on WHEN my mum can come this summer, and maybe (hopefully), with the one brother I'm admitting to right now.
Asides from that, I feel great. I had diarrhea all day today, with severe stomach cramps.
There are days I feel like I have a certain 'glow' about me. There are days where I didn't get any sleep whatsoever, so I look like death just woke up.
My boobs have increased an entire cup size. Mr. M loves that.
I pee like a race horse every goddamn 10 minutes. I can barely make it to and from work without gritting my teeth to hold in pee.
My sex drive? If a few days go by without some good monkey sex, I start getting bitchy. Another thing that Mr. M loves.
Apparently, I've sprouted the natural human methane gas version of Old Faithful. I can kill an elephant with my gas, it's that lethal. Mr. M is complaining. His mom and sister say he's getting what he deserves. I tend to agree with them on that point. But...seriously? They're BAD.
My clothes don't fit anymore with the exception of two pairs of jeans, and those I must wear with a Bella Band to keep them up. My tummy popped out the other day, my work pants no longer fit.
I bought my first maternity clothes the other day - leggings. They are uber-comfy, I wish I could wear them everyday, but unfortunately, I don't have enough shirts that are long enough to last all week.
Anyway, Mr. M was sent grocery shopping tonight. I was afraid of having to run to the bathroom with explosive diarrhea at the store - disgusting.
I'm almost out of the first trimestre;
Mr. M and I need to get our butts in gear making plans (all that fun financial stuff);
Mr. M and I can officially spread the news via whichever way we wish. I will most likely just send a link to this blog to everyone I know. I'm a bitch like that.
Seriously. We have life insurance to purchase, wills to write, guardians to appoint, and we also each have to make sure the other will be taken care of should something happen to one of us. Oooo, yes. Very grim thoughts indeed. But you should see what goes on inside my mind on a daily basis. Sometimes I wish death upon my neighbours for being loud. There are days when I will flip everyone on the road off simply because I'm in a bad mood.
And...oh. Yes. Yours truly does not wish to become a statistic and being a single mother being admitted into the hospital come her EDD. So...Mr. M will be tying the knot this summer...where, is beyond us, for we have to iron out the details, still - such as the date, which depends on WHEN my mum can come this summer, and maybe (hopefully), with the one brother I'm admitting to right now.
Asides from that, I feel great. I had diarrhea all day today, with severe stomach cramps.
There are days I feel like I have a certain 'glow' about me. There are days where I didn't get any sleep whatsoever, so I look like death just woke up.
My boobs have increased an entire cup size. Mr. M loves that.
I pee like a race horse every goddamn 10 minutes. I can barely make it to and from work without gritting my teeth to hold in pee.
My sex drive? If a few days go by without some good monkey sex, I start getting bitchy. Another thing that Mr. M loves.
Apparently, I've sprouted the natural human methane gas version of Old Faithful. I can kill an elephant with my gas, it's that lethal. Mr. M is complaining. His mom and sister say he's getting what he deserves. I tend to agree with them on that point. But...seriously? They're BAD.
My clothes don't fit anymore with the exception of two pairs of jeans, and those I must wear with a Bella Band to keep them up. My tummy popped out the other day, my work pants no longer fit.
I bought my first maternity clothes the other day - leggings. They are uber-comfy, I wish I could wear them everyday, but unfortunately, I don't have enough shirts that are long enough to last all week.
Anyway, Mr. M was sent grocery shopping tonight. I was afraid of having to run to the bathroom with explosive diarrhea at the store - disgusting.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Babies and more babies
What's the difference between a baby and a babie?
Absolutely nothing, according to a recent poster on the website I frequent, The Bump. This girl, a child, made a post titled "Sex of Babie??".
Ummm....Ok, Mr. M DOES have a student by the name of Babie. However, I would hope that no other parents out there would willingly put their child through life having that kind of name.
If you click on this girl's profile, you can see her picture. A picture showing her belly...at EIGHT weeks, her tummy looks like she's TWENTY weeks. It's actually funny in its stupidity and obviousness that she was pushing her tummy out for the pic in her mirrow.
Ah. I did save the best for last: Her screenname...:::drum rolling:::
Her FULL name. Not her first (full) name. Her first name and surname.
You guessed it. She's 19. And yes, her spelling was atrocious.
Speaking of The Bump. There's this one Bumpie who'd I like to give some special thanks to. In honour of her privacy, I shall dub her the Future Mrs. T.
The Future Mrs. T is quite funny, and can keep me laughing all day long via instant messenger, with random comments that are just awesome. This Future Mrs. T is also the one who got me started on this blog thing - so...you guys really owe her the ability to read about Mr. M and me via this blog. Last night, I read her blog from start to finish, and this morning was sore from laughing so hard. She's fucking hilarious.
Mr. M is asking me to turn off the computer...I think he wants to have some good monkey sex with the pregnant woman sitting next to him.
G'night ya'll!
Absolutely nothing, according to a recent poster on the website I frequent, The Bump. This girl, a child, made a post titled "Sex of Babie??".
Ummm....Ok, Mr. M DOES have a student by the name of Babie. However, I would hope that no other parents out there would willingly put their child through life having that kind of name.
If you click on this girl's profile, you can see her picture. A picture showing her belly...at EIGHT weeks, her tummy looks like she's TWENTY weeks. It's actually funny in its stupidity and obviousness that she was pushing her tummy out for the pic in her mirrow.
Ah. I did save the best for last: Her screenname...:::drum rolling:::
Her FULL name. Not her first (full) name. Her first name and surname.
You guessed it. She's 19. And yes, her spelling was atrocious.
Speaking of The Bump. There's this one Bumpie who'd I like to give some special thanks to. In honour of her privacy, I shall dub her the Future Mrs. T.
The Future Mrs. T is quite funny, and can keep me laughing all day long via instant messenger, with random comments that are just awesome. This Future Mrs. T is also the one who got me started on this blog thing - so...you guys really owe her the ability to read about Mr. M and me via this blog. Last night, I read her blog from start to finish, and this morning was sore from laughing so hard. She's fucking hilarious.
Mr. M is asking me to turn off the computer...I think he wants to have some good monkey sex with the pregnant woman sitting next to him.
G'night ya'll!
Rollercoaster...
For some reason, my moods remind me of that Rollercoaster song...
On another matter, I love my best friend, Mrs. C. I don't think I could ask for a better friend. And her two little girls, whom we will call the Chicken and the Egg, are so awesome. I watched them this afternoon, and we had so much fun. The Chicken and I played with chalk in the driveway, with the Egg sitting in the stroller. We went for a nice walk. The Chicken played dress-up for me, and I took lots of pics to send to Mr. M, who loves her. The Egg is WAY too funny with her expressions, and her sounds...it sounds like she's trying to talk - but at 4 months, I don't think so! The best part about it? The Egg ate two whole bottles for me, and the Chicken ate her entire dinner for me...complete with veggies.
On another matter, I love my best friend, Mrs. C. I don't think I could ask for a better friend. And her two little girls, whom we will call the Chicken and the Egg, are so awesome. I watched them this afternoon, and we had so much fun. The Chicken and I played with chalk in the driveway, with the Egg sitting in the stroller. We went for a nice walk. The Chicken played dress-up for me, and I took lots of pics to send to Mr. M, who loves her. The Egg is WAY too funny with her expressions, and her sounds...it sounds like she's trying to talk - but at 4 months, I don't think so! The best part about it? The Egg ate two whole bottles for me, and the Chicken ate her entire dinner for me...complete with veggies.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
In Two Weeks
Mr. M and I will be [really] spreading the news...I happen to have a huge ass family that's spread out all over the damn place. Mr. M has a slightly smaller family, and apparently, there is a lot of bad blood in his dad's family over something that happend fifteen years ago. His mother's side of the family is pretty limited, too, and again - a lot of complaints to be heard about Mr. M's aunt and uncle - who I find to be pretty neat and interesting people.
My mum's family is from all over - specifically, I have family in Japan, Minnesotta, California, North Dakota, New York, Missouri, Washington D.C., etc. I've lost track of them all, and barely know half of it. My dad's family is a wee bit easier to manage; the majority are in Colombia. I have a cousin in Montana, an aunt in Canada with one of my cousins, and uncle who splits his time between Colombia and Italy. Oh...and a few cousins in Missouri. Funny. My dad and his oldest brother ended up marrying to different women from St. Louis - then again, they both went to the same Uni. Go figure. There's some bad blood in my dad's family, too...so I can't talk. I think this is where Mr. M would say to me "Pot, this is the kettle, you're black".
This thing is really hard to sit on - not sending a mass email to all friends and family...is kind of torturous. Mr. M feels as though he might offend some friends for not telling them first, or offend some for telling them last, etc. Eh - oh well. I've told - ummmm....three of my closest friends, and my immediate family excluding the crazy (and UBER-judgemental) grandmother. Oh - and I've also told my job.
Mr. M has told two of his closest friends and his family. Well, the family that he speaks to. I'm still reeling from his sister's reaction, which wasn't the nicest.
So far, Mr. M's stepmom is the person most excited over this pregnancy. She loves to feel my [gassy] tummy to see if there's any sign of something growing or festering in there. She also bought Mr. M and me our first baby item: a really cute snuggley outfit in fleece with a monkey on it. I love it. I think I was only about 6 weeks pregnant at that point. Or 7 - not sure. Cool thing? I think my tummy actually started to pop out the other day. It's pretty interesting to try to suck my tummy and realize that I can't! So I have an excuse now to have a tummy!
Ah. So...in two weeks, we'll be advising the whole world that my birth control fucked up, and now we're actually excitedly awaiting our first child. No more all night drinking binges for us - no more spending a shitload of money on music equipment, cellies, and definitely no more frivolous spending.
Mr. M and I think we're ready for this...and he's right - we do make a pretty good team. I yell at him, and he takes it in stride, and tries to figure out a solution to the reason behind the yelling. I love him for this. I love it that he hasn't a need to constantly talk; we're happy curled up in silence doing whatever (usually this involves two laptops being on...). I love him for his unending patience with my temper. And now that I have to pee again, I forgot what else I was going to say.
'night.
My mum's family is from all over - specifically, I have family in Japan, Minnesotta, California, North Dakota, New York, Missouri, Washington D.C., etc. I've lost track of them all, and barely know half of it. My dad's family is a wee bit easier to manage; the majority are in Colombia. I have a cousin in Montana, an aunt in Canada with one of my cousins, and uncle who splits his time between Colombia and Italy. Oh...and a few cousins in Missouri. Funny. My dad and his oldest brother ended up marrying to different women from St. Louis - then again, they both went to the same Uni. Go figure. There's some bad blood in my dad's family, too...so I can't talk. I think this is where Mr. M would say to me "Pot, this is the kettle, you're black".
This thing is really hard to sit on - not sending a mass email to all friends and family...is kind of torturous. Mr. M feels as though he might offend some friends for not telling them first, or offend some for telling them last, etc. Eh - oh well. I've told - ummmm....three of my closest friends, and my immediate family excluding the crazy (and UBER-judgemental) grandmother. Oh - and I've also told my job.
Mr. M has told two of his closest friends and his family. Well, the family that he speaks to. I'm still reeling from his sister's reaction, which wasn't the nicest.
So far, Mr. M's stepmom is the person most excited over this pregnancy. She loves to feel my [gassy] tummy to see if there's any sign of something growing or festering in there. She also bought Mr. M and me our first baby item: a really cute snuggley outfit in fleece with a monkey on it. I love it. I think I was only about 6 weeks pregnant at that point. Or 7 - not sure. Cool thing? I think my tummy actually started to pop out the other day. It's pretty interesting to try to suck my tummy and realize that I can't! So I have an excuse now to have a tummy!
Ah. So...in two weeks, we'll be advising the whole world that my birth control fucked up, and now we're actually excitedly awaiting our first child. No more all night drinking binges for us - no more spending a shitload of money on music equipment, cellies, and definitely no more frivolous spending.
Mr. M and I think we're ready for this...and he's right - we do make a pretty good team. I yell at him, and he takes it in stride, and tries to figure out a solution to the reason behind the yelling. I love him for this. I love it that he hasn't a need to constantly talk; we're happy curled up in silence doing whatever (usually this involves two laptops being on...). I love him for his unending patience with my temper. And now that I have to pee again, I forgot what else I was going to say.
'night.
Friday, March 19, 2010
The Great Debate...and other things
Apparently, we are NOT finding out the sex of Baby M (BM). It was Mr.M's idea. He's the one who wants the surprise - go figure, he's not the one who has to deal with registries and decorating the nursery, since he's completely and 100% delegated these jobs to me...as the women in the household. Nice, eh?
Also, he wants to marry me. Not now, but like the day after BM is born. I personally don't really wanna go into the hospital and be categorized as a single mother. Who the fuck wants to be a statistic? Definitely not me, thankyouverymuch.
In the middle of this talk we were having about when to do the deed, Keith's eyes started watering, and he said something to the extent of "I know we can do this together, there's nobody else in the world I want to do this with other than you. We make a great team."
This, my friends, obviously made me cry hysterically.
So, the idea will be to do the deed sometime in the summertime, in his dad's backyard. Just the way Mr. M's sister did it last year. So let's hear it for the second shotgun wedding for his family, with the klassy bride sporting a natural-made baby bump.
We were talking a lot about my work status - will I go back to work full time or part time? Will we be able to afford me not working for 12 weeks? Maybe we can - some ducks have to be shot out of the sky in order for this to happen, but I'm pretty confident in taking care of those fuckers.
I'm crying really easily these days. I'm also laughing at the dumbest things. Like at the comedian who's line is basically the "Hot Pockets" song. I used to find him so moronic, and now he's actually making me laugh. My 69 year-old [male] boss was walking around the office today singing Lady Gaga's Bad Romance. I almost died of laughter.
But...on my way to work this morning, a song I haven't heard in ages began playing on my iPod: All For Love by Bryan Adams with Sting and Rod Stewart. You know, the one in The Three Musketeers? I loved that movie when I was younger. I PINED for D'artagnan...played by the best goody-two-shoes ever: Chris O'Donnell - LOVED him. Anyways. I started crying so hard, I had to pull over to the side of the road to avoid getting into an accident. And I sat there for a good ten minutes.
What the hell? I am not normally this emotional. Songs don't normally make me cry. Ok. Maybe I get really upset at the Humane Society commercial that VH1 keeps on airing (everyone knows this one: the one that shows the mistreated kitties, puppies and horsies). I die a violent, painful and horrific death every time I see that damn commercial.
Speaking of the devil, Apollo Puppy has been a true Mamma's Boy lately. We think he knows, and he's hogging me before he has to renounce his mommy rights for a while. And he really smells to me. He's not dirty - it's only been 2 weeks since his last bath - just smelly to me. So I don't let him give me his wet, slobbery kisses.
Back to awesome matters. Baby stuff included. Since "we" have decided not to find out the sex, we are now officially Team Green. This means that nobody can give me anything pink. YAY! Or does it? Please just let me think that way...I truly hate the colour pink. Seriously...I was looking at Winnie the Pooh stuff online today (yup...while at work), and most of it has a lot of pink! Grr...so maybe we'll do animals or monkeys for our nursery motif. Not sure yet. But it's cute to look at this stuff.
When did having a baby get so complicated? From what I remember when I was little, nurseries were not this huge to-do of complicated mobiles, bumpers for the cradle (which, according to Consumer Reports and some other entity, now pose as a suffocation hazard), expensive 'glider' chairs when a simple rocking chair will do, diaper genies (the rubbish bin, anybody?), covers for your crib, video monitors (HUGE waste of money if you live in a TINY 600 square foot apartment), among other things that a new mum must get - unless she wants to be vilified as World's Most Horrible Mummie.
Seriously. I love monkeys. I also love Winnie the Pooh. But I also love plain....and simple - it's kind of nice.
Maybe I'll look for an old rocking chair that I can outfit with a nice cushion...combine with a Boppy Pillow, and I think we're in business. Oh yes. I will try to breast-feed. Let's hope Baby M isn't born with colic, an immature digestive tract, or just plain and simple CRABBINESS.
As I've told Mr. M, if this kid comes out like that, I'm leaving him/her at the nearest grocery store.
Actually, I'd never do that - I'd hire Super Nanny to come to the rescue.
Also, he wants to marry me. Not now, but like the day after BM is born. I personally don't really wanna go into the hospital and be categorized as a single mother. Who the fuck wants to be a statistic? Definitely not me, thankyouverymuch.
In the middle of this talk we were having about when to do the deed, Keith's eyes started watering, and he said something to the extent of "I know we can do this together, there's nobody else in the world I want to do this with other than you. We make a great team."
This, my friends, obviously made me cry hysterically.
So, the idea will be to do the deed sometime in the summertime, in his dad's backyard. Just the way Mr. M's sister did it last year. So let's hear it for the second shotgun wedding for his family, with the klassy bride sporting a natural-made baby bump.
We were talking a lot about my work status - will I go back to work full time or part time? Will we be able to afford me not working for 12 weeks? Maybe we can - some ducks have to be shot out of the sky in order for this to happen, but I'm pretty confident in taking care of those fuckers.
I'm crying really easily these days. I'm also laughing at the dumbest things. Like at the comedian who's line is basically the "Hot Pockets" song. I used to find him so moronic, and now he's actually making me laugh. My 69 year-old [male] boss was walking around the office today singing Lady Gaga's Bad Romance. I almost died of laughter.
But...on my way to work this morning, a song I haven't heard in ages began playing on my iPod: All For Love by Bryan Adams with Sting and Rod Stewart. You know, the one in The Three Musketeers? I loved that movie when I was younger. I PINED for D'artagnan...played by the best goody-two-shoes ever: Chris O'Donnell - LOVED him. Anyways. I started crying so hard, I had to pull over to the side of the road to avoid getting into an accident. And I sat there for a good ten minutes.
What the hell? I am not normally this emotional. Songs don't normally make me cry. Ok. Maybe I get really upset at the Humane Society commercial that VH1 keeps on airing (everyone knows this one: the one that shows the mistreated kitties, puppies and horsies). I die a violent, painful and horrific death every time I see that damn commercial.
Speaking of the devil, Apollo Puppy has been a true Mamma's Boy lately. We think he knows, and he's hogging me before he has to renounce his mommy rights for a while. And he really smells to me. He's not dirty - it's only been 2 weeks since his last bath - just smelly to me. So I don't let him give me his wet, slobbery kisses.
Back to awesome matters. Baby stuff included. Since "we" have decided not to find out the sex, we are now officially Team Green. This means that nobody can give me anything pink. YAY! Or does it? Please just let me think that way...I truly hate the colour pink. Seriously...I was looking at Winnie the Pooh stuff online today (yup...while at work), and most of it has a lot of pink! Grr...so maybe we'll do animals or monkeys for our nursery motif. Not sure yet. But it's cute to look at this stuff.
When did having a baby get so complicated? From what I remember when I was little, nurseries were not this huge to-do of complicated mobiles, bumpers for the cradle (which, according to Consumer Reports and some other entity, now pose as a suffocation hazard), expensive 'glider' chairs when a simple rocking chair will do, diaper genies (the rubbish bin, anybody?), covers for your crib, video monitors (HUGE waste of money if you live in a TINY 600 square foot apartment), among other things that a new mum must get - unless she wants to be vilified as World's Most Horrible Mummie.
Seriously. I love monkeys. I also love Winnie the Pooh. But I also love plain....and simple - it's kind of nice.
Maybe I'll look for an old rocking chair that I can outfit with a nice cushion...combine with a Boppy Pillow, and I think we're in business. Oh yes. I will try to breast-feed. Let's hope Baby M isn't born with colic, an immature digestive tract, or just plain and simple CRABBINESS.
As I've told Mr. M, if this kid comes out like that, I'm leaving him/her at the nearest grocery store.
Actually, I'd never do that - I'd hire Super Nanny to come to the rescue.
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