The battles are increasing in our house. They are only compounded by my increasing nausea and need for sleep. LB, bright-eyed early riser, is all about getting up early to be with Mommy every. waking. minute. Today I finally begged Mr. Flinger to take her downstairs and give me ten minutes to shower without hearing, “Mommy Boobies! Mommy Boobies! Mommy Soap? Mommy potty?” because honestly, I like to talk about myself but that is a wee bit much, people.
She’s Little Miss Independence. She’s all grown up in her head and still crapping her pants. She’s kicking my pregnant ass.
Lately I’m walking around in my own sludge. I feel as if my nausea and exhaustion are physically weighted to me, or I’m walking through them like jello. LB is... Read more
If you don’t believe in evolution, I think you’ll still agree with me on this one. We as a society have continued to evolve and grow and have a population explosion despite our children’s best attempt at making us throw them out the car window going 70 miles an hour on the freeway.
toddler turned two, life has been… Interesting? No… um.. Wild? Yes, but.. Hell? YES! Hell.
She is coming in to her own. She MUST be the one to put on her shoes. She WILL be the one to not drink out of her straw, but rather open the lid and dump the precious expensive gold that is “Organic Valley Milk” on to her lap/carseat/books. She will refuse to walk when you ask her to,... Read more
I silently prayed that I would not spend my 31st birthday this weekend sitting in a dark corner bawling over a baby I lost. I prayed every day since I found out I’d be seen this week, that I did not want to hear bad news days before my birthday. Not that 31 means anything. Actually, it means pretty much nothing. Just another year in the bag, another day in the pot, an excuse for a pregnant lady to eat cheesecake, maybe, but over all just not much more than 24 hours and 31 years of life marked “finished.”
As fate would have it, I’ll be bawling any way.
I’ve been crying most of the past two weeks or so. This is very confusing for LB. “Mommy sad?” she’ll ask. “No. Mommy is happy, sweetie. See?” I cry when I... Read more
Talk about anxiety. I think I started building up the worst case scenarios in my head in the past 48 hours. What’s that? Right. I had them in my head three weeks ago. You’re right.
It’s amazing to me that a lab tech gal (with a very strong southern accent, by the way, y’all… Go Team South) will stick to complete protocol in the face of a very hormonal pregnant lady. “Will you tell me if there’s a heartbeat?” I begged. “Well, usually we give the results to the Doctor and they will talk to you…. (fill in awkward excuse and protocol here). “But.. um.. see, I had a miscarriage and… (fill in teary voice and begging very unbecoming of a woman dressed in a sheet with a wand up her hayhay).... Read more
We’re heading to the doctor today for my first checkup. I know I’m nauseated, I’m weak, I’m dizzy and weepy. These are all fantastic signs.
I just want to see a heart beat. Then I’ll be able to just be pregnant.
So if you see me doing some sort of sacrificial dance to the gods of all things baby heartbeats, you’ll know why. No need to panic. Just join in.Read more
Ready for another shocker? I have body image issues. HOLY CRAP! Shut up, I know that’s just another stop in the road to middle-class-america. Raise of hands of people who HAVE NOT had an eating disorder? Three of you? Well, you missed out. Trust me. (Don’t)
I’m guessing it’s no surprise I have issues about gaining weight when I’m pregnant. I actually stay up at night pondering how I can prevent the sixty pound weight gain (and only 55 pound weight loss) from last time around. But I’m up late, starving, eating (LIGHT) Laughing Cow Cheese and I know for a fact that if I don’t eat, I’ll hurl. And this time I’m not trying to.
There’s a video I’ve seen going around the Internet. It’s a good promotion... Read more
Googling “Laughing Cow Cheese Early Pregnancy” doesn’t produce the results one would hope. (Unless you’re looking for a lot of women talking about eating cheese and cows and laughing about it, or eating cheese feeling like a cow and laughing while growing three headed children from the soft cheese in early pregnancy. Then you’d be right on.)Read more
As you are probably not aware ( ::cough snort cough:: ) I’m a bit of a control freak. OH! Shocking isn’t it? Stop rolling your eyes. I promise not to talk about my hairy legs this time. But I am going to talk about the pregnancy. And my complete lack of control, whatsoever.
If there is any question that God has a sense of humor lemme tell you this: He does. She does. He/She is laughing his or her mighty ass off right now in pure joy and elation. It’s really funny if I think about it. How many times will I get knocked up because “I don’t think I’m ovulating” and “I don’t know my cycle” and “I think I’m getting the flu or something, I... Read more
Yesterday, LB officially turned two years old. Two years ago we made this movie. Two years ago I visited the ER. Twice. And got a uterine infection. Two years ago I became horribly depressed, crazy, and tired. But the thing is? It’s been a wonderful two years. Two years ago had you told me I’d WANT to be knocked up again, I’d laugh. Maniacly. Two years ago if you said she would be the joy of my world, I’d roll my eyes. Two years ago, if you told me how fast life goes, I’d say bad... Read more
I found my razor this afternoon. This is very good news since I haven’t shaved my legs since we packed up the bathroom in our old townhouse on Friday. If you count the days, that’s ... let’s do the math… five days. For those of you that don’t know, I’m a small step away from the ape woman. So five days for you, thin blonde chick that I’d hate but you’re too nice, might not be a big deal, but for me? Well. It is.
So, what with the peeing, the nausea, and the incessant hunger, I got up with my nighty bra-tank and panties and walked downstairs for some cocoa and graham crackers. Mr Flinger (god bless this man) says, “You should walk around in... Read more