**disclaimer*** some of these things may have come out of my mouth...
-- "If we have a baby brother that would be AWESOME!!! A baby sister...meh." For the baby's sake I sure hope it is a boy...it will be a LONG life with 2 sisters not thrilled about your joining the family.
-- "No putting soap in your sister's butt crack!"
-- "Mom I think sometimes you just tell us that the news says to stay in the house because you don't want to take us out to play." Oh, they know me so well...I have done that in the past when it was too cold, snowy or just pure laziness on my part. But the ONE time I am telling the truth they call me out on it.
-- "Mom, does that guy want to go to jail?" "No, he doesn't." "Then why is he doing all these bad things?" That one I had no answer for...couldn't even make something up...
-- "Until you are able to wipe your own butt you are not allowed to eat blueberries."
-- "I thought you said corn poops were the worst? Does this mean I can't eat corn either?" (said in response to me muttering under my breath about how gross blueberry poops are).
-- "Mom, how big is the baby now?" I show her about the size of a small ball. "If the baby is so small why is your belly so big?"
-- I was in the dressing room at the maternity store. I tried on this floral, pastel shirt with "wings" attaching the sleeves to the waist...not a good look for me. The girls said they loved it and asked if I was getting it. I told them no. They asked why. I said because it made me look fat. Anna looked at me and said with the honestly and confusion that only a 3 year old can pull off, "but mommy, you ARE fat."
-- When I asked Anna why she doesn't ever wipe her own butt she said, "wiping butts is gross...I don't want to touch pee or poop...that is why I have you do it."
-- "Mom, when the new baby comes if it has a booger in it's nose I can pick it for them. I am good at picking noses."
Monday, April 22, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
What to REALLY Expect When Expecting...The 1st Trimester...
When I was pregnant with Sara, my first child, I read all the requisite pregnancy books. There were a few things that I found helpful; how to date a pregnancy...I never understood that whole extra 2 weeks thing, how the baby was developing week by week, a few basic things that were happening to my body but that was about it. There was so much more weird stuff happening not addressed in any book I read. It was if my body was going through a new science experiment everyday. I wasn't sure if it were normal or not and I didn't feel like I could ask anyone...What if they thought I was crazy? This being my third pregnancy I now know that it IS normal...so if I were to write a pregnancy book these are some chapters I might include. Keep in mind these are just a synopsis of the chapters but I think you will get the idea.
**********************************WARNING******************************************
If you have not yet been pregnant but intend to be someday STOP READING HERE!!! Pregnancy is AMAZING!!! It is all fairy dust and rainbows just like FIT Pregnancy, TLC and Gerber ads lead you to believe.
If you choose to continue reading keep in mind this probably contains way too much information and you will learn things about me you never wanted or needed to know. If you do read on please keep a few things in mind...1.) You can never unread this and 2.) You are forbidden from ever using this information against me. Continue at your own risk...you have been fairly warned...
**************************************************************************************
Chapter 1-- Do You Smell What I Smell?
Chuck has always said that my sense of smell is my super power...he jokes that I can smell a skunk all the way in New Hampshire. He is right, my baseline sense of smell is beyond that of a normal person. When I am pregnant it is something for the record books...I can smell things that a blood hound would pass by. I can smell food cooking in the neighbor's house, I can smell Anna's poop 2 hours before she goes, I swear to God I can smell the fish's pee in our fish tank. Yes, I am that sensitive. Now most super powers would be looked upon as a gift, mine is more of a curse. Nothing smells good to me these days. I saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers recently and it was so potent I was gagging and all I could think of was taking that beautiful bouquet and stomping the sh*t out of and destroying the scent. My house is the worst. We have 2 cats and a guinea pig...normally you can not smell these creatures when you come in our house. I make sure of that. Now I swear our house smells like a barn, but it is more the 2 legged creatures in our house that is causing me the most distress...Between Anna with her pooping herself and Sara with her GI issues I am constantly making a home made gas mask by pulling my shirt up over my nose. But that is not the worst of it my friends, oh no, it gets bad, really bad...you see Chuck is lactose intolerant and one night he KNOWINGLY ate Parmesan cheese!!! Was he looking to start a fight?... That is his kryptonite...we have a small house and he spread the "love" all through it. Not only could I not breathe from the overwhelming stench but I was seething that he would have a total disregard for my situation and actually eat dinner....he should suffer with me in solidarity and eat a bland diet for the next 9 months. We would be divorced right now (oh yeah, I was that mad) save for the fact that we have the worst cable/internet service in the world and when I went to print off divorce papers from Legal-zoom.com the internet was not working. He lucked out this time but he is on notice and he knows he is one yogurt away from being single.
Chapter 2--Morning, Noon and Night Sickness
I would be thrilled if I had morning sickness. It would be manageable. I have around the clock sickness. I do have a small window from about 11 p.m. until 3 a.m. that I can actually eat and keep it down. This pregnancy is different from the other 2...boy perhaps?! I constantly feel like I am on a waterbed. I am battling nausea all day long. If it were just the nausea it wouldn't be so bad. I am vomiting too...who we kidding? I am puking my guts out. The girls are sick of it. They lost their compassion (not that they had any anyway) long ago. When I puke they tell me to just keep my mouth shut and stop puking...or Anna had some advice when she walked into the bathroom as I was mid-hurl...she told me to flush the toilet...that I was gross. I have puked at work, in the car, in a store and outside. Nowhere is safe. I fortunately have made it to a proper waste receptacle all but twice. The first "miss" was the other day...I walked into the bathroom a few minutes after Chuck changed Anna's poop accident. As I walked in I was instantly taken over by the smell...as the first whiff hit the back of my nose it was like a reflex was triggered and my body was protecting me from the evil that must have been in my presence. How a small, sweet little girl could have smelled so bad is a mystery...Chuck hit the nail on the head when he said her crap smelled like black death....again, I fashioned myself a home made gas mask and cleaned the puke off the wall and floor.
The next day I was in the shower and I was blindsided by a vomiting episode it came on so fast and furious and was so violent my stomach revolted on me and purged right there in the shower. I called Chuck to get me some paper towels so I could clean it up...as I stood in ankle deep water with my breakfast swirling around me he told me not to worry he would take care of it. Now I am sure that it had something to do with the fact Sara had dance class and he wanted to make sure I was ready in time to take her or he would be stuck taking her...a fate worse than death...but either way I was grateful...now that folks is true love! Volunteering to clean someone else's half digested eggs out of the shower is the ultimate sign of commitment....he may have just redeemed himself for the Parmesan cheese incident.
Chapter 3--Are You Really Going to Eat That?
With all of my pregnancies I had some weird cravings. Sara it was white cake with white frosting and coconut. Anna it was cream cheese and olive sandwiches on hearty white bread...the package literally had to say "hearty white bread" or it wouldn't make the cut. With this baby it is potatoes. Any kind; mashed, boiled, french fries (dipped in a combo of mayo and minced garlic), potato omelets, cheese sandwiches with potato chips and my ultimate craving....drum roll please...canned potatoes. The girls keep asking why I am eating disgusting food...they don't get the concept of canned potatoes and I did have a brief love affair with my old standby of cream cheese and olive sandwiches. I don't really have an answer for them. I am a vegetarian and I eat a ton of fresh fruits and veggies everyday...the thought of eating anything green or relatively healthy literally turns my stomach and I have been avoiding it all costs. I did have 2 days at the beginning of the week where I wasn't nauseous and didn't vomit...I have been looking back on those days fondly since it came back with a vengeance...I think the fact that I made some homemade veggie soup...one of my favorites and ate 2 big bowls did me in. That is what I ate right before the whole black death poop from Anna. It wasn't as good coming back up and having to clean it off the wall really turned me off from veggies again. Oh well, it was a short lived run, but a glorious 2 days nonetheless. Oh for the record I had rice in the soup. EPIC FAIL!!! If you are nauseous during pregnancy avoid rice!! You will have grains of rice stuck in your mouth, throat and all the way down. Once you puke it up you spend the next hour trying to hack it up...much like a cat working on a hairball. On that note some other combos to avoid as they are not pleasant the second time around...
Orange juice and eggs.
Watermelon and garlic mashed potatoes.
Oranges and a granola bar.
Green bean casserole and deviled eggs (an Easter mistake).
Green bean casserole and anything really.
You're welcome.
Chapter 4--They Grew Back!
When I turned 30 I was single, no prospects on the horizon, not sure I would ever have kids so I did some self improvement work. I had a little plastic surgery. Yep, not ashamed to admit it. I had a breast reduction. I had a pound and a half taken off each side...They looked great! Then about 4 years later it all changed when I got pregnant. If you took a topless picture of me now, cut it out in the style of a paper doll and inserted it into a picture of a newly discovered tribe of pygmies or the like you would be hard pressed to find me. It would be like "Where's Waldo" Nat Geo style. My kids have left my body unrecognizable. After 3 pregnancies and breast feeding they are so misshapen and discolored that I seriously look like a character out of Futurama. It is a good thing Chuck loves me because if he ever left me there is not enough Spanx, duct tape or plastic surgery in the world to lure in an unsuspecting suitor. Now at 15 weeks into this pregnancy I have had to add a bra expander to my wardrobe. It is an extra 3 inches that hooks onto the back of your existing bra. At the rate I am expanding I am going to have to go down to the basement and dust off some bungee cords to hold things together...
In the meantime I have to go for a cardiac stress test next week. Nothing serious, because I have a cardiac issue I have to be closely monitored during my pregnancies. So what that means is I have to run on a treadmill for as fast and as long as I can. I am not sure but I thought cruel and unusual punishment is considered unconstitutional in our country. I believe that this qualifies. Making a pregnant lady with enormously huge, sore boobs run...that seems cruel and unusual to me. Nonetheless I have to have it done. I kind of want to go in, just sit down and outright declare that I fail. I am not sure that will fly. In my mind I imagine myself to run gracefully...kind of like one of the Bay Watch babes as they glide across the beach in slow motion. I am sure I will look more like Big Ang (google her) lumbering my way through hoping I don't through myself into a cardiac arrest...
Chapter 5--The Gas We Pass
Yes my friends, I am going there. This is certainly something that was "conveniently" omitted from any pregnancy book I read. In the first trimester you will have gas. A LOT of gas. With all 3 pregnancies I was plagued by what I like to refer to as "Skeeball Farts". Yup, that skeeball...the arcade game where you take one ball from the rack and another one immediately comes down taking its place. I would have these "events" where I would fart and immediately another would be on deck and another and another. Fortunately for me, and society as a whole, they were silent and odorless, however, they were incredibly annoying. Pffft, pffft, pffft, I would turn around wholeheartedly expecting a ribbon of carnival tickets to be shooting out of my ass...you would think I should at least earn a little prize...something for my efforts...
That phase gave way to a very short lived phase (only about 2 days... thank God!!) of rather foul smelling gas. It would catch me off guard each time and I would immediately start gagging on my own stench...which in turn would lead to a puke fest. Try explaining that to very curious (and extremely judgmental) 3 and 5 year olds. Thankfully Anna figured it all out, "Mommy that baby growing in your belly sure has a lot of farts." Why yes, Anna it is the baby...not mommy. Sara was not quite on board with Anna's explanation but after a few little white lies from me she was a believer.
Chapter 6--Where There is Smoke There is Fire
And in the same vain one would imagine where there is gas there is poop. However, during pregnancy that is not always the case. I had my gallbladder out a month before I had Sara. Thankfully constipation was never an issue in that pregnancy or in my second. Unfortunately for me, that was not the case this go around. I had a brief back up for a few days. It was awful. Not only for me, but for my family as well. I would head into the bathroom, do battle for a while and have to come out and face my family who were lined up on the couch anxiously awaiting me to come out with my hand held high in triumph. On more than one occasion I would come out, sweat on my brow and have to dejectedly give them the thumbs down. The look of disappointment on their faces was haunting. Haunting I say. I felt like I had let them down. I feel I have a good appreciation for the fisherman aboard the Bounty Hunter (from the National Geographic Channel's Wicked Tuna). This crew has no luck. They are on the hunt for Giant Blue-fin Tuna. They know they are out there....they can see them on the fishfinder...but it can be days before they get one on the line. They battle the fish for hours, making progress little by little, finally the fish is in their sights and more often than not just as they are about to reel the giant tuna in the boat at the last second the line snaps and the tuna swims away. They have to head back to the dock, with their heads held in shame only to spend the next few days trying to hook another elusive tuna. Yeah, it is kind of like that. Again, thankfully things got back on track after a few days but I now have a deep respect for women that give birth vaginally. Strong work ladies...strong work!
Chapter 7--Tinkle, Tinkle, Little Star
It is a fact that pregnant ladies pee a lot. I always thought that happened towards the end when the baby is so big it presses on your bladder. Nope. It starts happening in the early weeks. Something to do with the shift in your internal fluids. For me the night is the worst. I seriously am up and down 20 times a night. To be completely honest there has been more than one occasion when I contemplated just peeing my bed. I mean both of my kids have peed in my bed...we are due for a new mattress anyway...but I couldn't bring myself to do it...the greatest reason being I know Chuck would have a field day with that and never let me live it down. While out shopping I have walked passed the adult diapers more than once but with my luck I would put them on and that would be the night we have a fire, the TV crews would show up and I would be caught live on TV wearing a diaper. Seriously, that is the thought I had as I eyed a package of Depends in Wal-Mart.
It is not just that I get up a ton to go, but when I do go I no sooner wipe, stand up, turn to flush and I have to go again. I have tried all the tricks (bending forward after I pee, twisting to the side...somehow I think if I squeeze my bladder like a sponge I will be able to get a few extra drops out)...but nothing seems to help. I actually came out of the bathroom the other day, walked into the kitchen and then it happened I may or may not have peed myself. Of course I blurt out, "I peed myself" and ears MaGee (aka Sara) hears me all the way from the other room, tells Anna and they both come running. They thought it was great. They asked if they could see it. No I tell them. Anna then comes to my defense and says, "I still love you even though you pee your pants." Thanks Anna, I can always count on you. Sara on the other hand has been asking me before we leave the house to promise not to pee myself in public that it would be embarrassing. Really? I so wanted to bring up all the times she peed and crapped herself in public...but I was the mature one and let it go...but it was hard to take the high road on that one...
Chapter 8--Is There a Hockey Player in Here?
When pregnant you might sweat. At night I sweat as if my life and the lives of all of those I care about depend on it. My clothes and sheets soak through, then because I am soaking wet I must get cold and wrap myself even tighter in the blankets. By the time I wake up I look as if I just stepped out of the shower and my bedroom smells like a men's locker room full of dirty hockey equipment where the heat has been left on high for a month. It is disgusting. Like I said, we are due to get a new mattress but Chuck wants to wait until I stop sweating...well after the pregnancy comes the baby and after I deliver I usually sweat like this for another couple of months. Add to that I am 40, so once I get through the post partum stage I am most likely going to start menopause and have to endure the night sweats that come with that....I guess we will go mattress shopping in 2018.
Chapter 9--Turkey Anyone?
So if you are a loyal reader of my blog you are well versed in my skin apron...the gross flap of skin that hangs down off of my belly. Lovingly named by my betrothed. Well when I am pregnant I get really big, really fast. My belly is protruding more and much of the skin apron has smoothed out much like a deflated balloon re-inflates as you add air. However, just like a balloon not fully inflated there is that flappy thing that hangs off the end. What is left of my skin apron has kind of morphed into more a turkey waddle. It is much smaller in size and just hangs out there. Weird...and yet intriguing at the same time...I am so curious to see what is going to happen to it next.
Like I said, pregnancy is like a daily science experiment. Most of the intimate ins and outs are not passed down generation to generation...it is like all the existing moms want the ladies without kids to join our club...but they fear if they know the truth they will stay far, far away. As something new and unusual pops up I am amazed that our species has not died out long ago...I mean who would willingly put this upon themselves? Oh wait...I have...3 times now. At least in an effort to inform my fellow women I am pulling back the curtain and letting you know What to REALLY Expect When Expecting!!!
I am a few weeks into my second trimester so most of this is dying down, but it is opening me up to the second round of pregnancy weirdness...stay tuned for what to expect in the 2nd trimester!!!
**********************************WARNING******************************************
If you have not yet been pregnant but intend to be someday STOP READING HERE!!! Pregnancy is AMAZING!!! It is all fairy dust and rainbows just like FIT Pregnancy, TLC and Gerber ads lead you to believe.
If you choose to continue reading keep in mind this probably contains way too much information and you will learn things about me you never wanted or needed to know. If you do read on please keep a few things in mind...1.) You can never unread this and 2.) You are forbidden from ever using this information against me. Continue at your own risk...you have been fairly warned...
**************************************************************************************
Chapter 1-- Do You Smell What I Smell?
Chuck has always said that my sense of smell is my super power...he jokes that I can smell a skunk all the way in New Hampshire. He is right, my baseline sense of smell is beyond that of a normal person. When I am pregnant it is something for the record books...I can smell things that a blood hound would pass by. I can smell food cooking in the neighbor's house, I can smell Anna's poop 2 hours before she goes, I swear to God I can smell the fish's pee in our fish tank. Yes, I am that sensitive. Now most super powers would be looked upon as a gift, mine is more of a curse. Nothing smells good to me these days. I saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers recently and it was so potent I was gagging and all I could think of was taking that beautiful bouquet and stomping the sh*t out of and destroying the scent. My house is the worst. We have 2 cats and a guinea pig...normally you can not smell these creatures when you come in our house. I make sure of that. Now I swear our house smells like a barn, but it is more the 2 legged creatures in our house that is causing me the most distress...Between Anna with her pooping herself and Sara with her GI issues I am constantly making a home made gas mask by pulling my shirt up over my nose. But that is not the worst of it my friends, oh no, it gets bad, really bad...you see Chuck is lactose intolerant and one night he KNOWINGLY ate Parmesan cheese!!! Was he looking to start a fight?... That is his kryptonite...we have a small house and he spread the "love" all through it. Not only could I not breathe from the overwhelming stench but I was seething that he would have a total disregard for my situation and actually eat dinner....he should suffer with me in solidarity and eat a bland diet for the next 9 months. We would be divorced right now (oh yeah, I was that mad) save for the fact that we have the worst cable/internet service in the world and when I went to print off divorce papers from Legal-zoom.com the internet was not working. He lucked out this time but he is on notice and he knows he is one yogurt away from being single.
Chapter 2--Morning, Noon and Night Sickness
I would be thrilled if I had morning sickness. It would be manageable. I have around the clock sickness. I do have a small window from about 11 p.m. until 3 a.m. that I can actually eat and keep it down. This pregnancy is different from the other 2...boy perhaps?! I constantly feel like I am on a waterbed. I am battling nausea all day long. If it were just the nausea it wouldn't be so bad. I am vomiting too...who we kidding? I am puking my guts out. The girls are sick of it. They lost their compassion (not that they had any anyway) long ago. When I puke they tell me to just keep my mouth shut and stop puking...or Anna had some advice when she walked into the bathroom as I was mid-hurl...she told me to flush the toilet...that I was gross. I have puked at work, in the car, in a store and outside. Nowhere is safe. I fortunately have made it to a proper waste receptacle all but twice. The first "miss" was the other day...I walked into the bathroom a few minutes after Chuck changed Anna's poop accident. As I walked in I was instantly taken over by the smell...as the first whiff hit the back of my nose it was like a reflex was triggered and my body was protecting me from the evil that must have been in my presence. How a small, sweet little girl could have smelled so bad is a mystery...Chuck hit the nail on the head when he said her crap smelled like black death....again, I fashioned myself a home made gas mask and cleaned the puke off the wall and floor.
The next day I was in the shower and I was blindsided by a vomiting episode it came on so fast and furious and was so violent my stomach revolted on me and purged right there in the shower. I called Chuck to get me some paper towels so I could clean it up...as I stood in ankle deep water with my breakfast swirling around me he told me not to worry he would take care of it. Now I am sure that it had something to do with the fact Sara had dance class and he wanted to make sure I was ready in time to take her or he would be stuck taking her...a fate worse than death...but either way I was grateful...now that folks is true love! Volunteering to clean someone else's half digested eggs out of the shower is the ultimate sign of commitment....he may have just redeemed himself for the Parmesan cheese incident.
Chapter 3--Are You Really Going to Eat That?
With all of my pregnancies I had some weird cravings. Sara it was white cake with white frosting and coconut. Anna it was cream cheese and olive sandwiches on hearty white bread...the package literally had to say "hearty white bread" or it wouldn't make the cut. With this baby it is potatoes. Any kind; mashed, boiled, french fries (dipped in a combo of mayo and minced garlic), potato omelets, cheese sandwiches with potato chips and my ultimate craving....drum roll please...canned potatoes. The girls keep asking why I am eating disgusting food...they don't get the concept of canned potatoes and I did have a brief love affair with my old standby of cream cheese and olive sandwiches. I don't really have an answer for them. I am a vegetarian and I eat a ton of fresh fruits and veggies everyday...the thought of eating anything green or relatively healthy literally turns my stomach and I have been avoiding it all costs. I did have 2 days at the beginning of the week where I wasn't nauseous and didn't vomit...I have been looking back on those days fondly since it came back with a vengeance...I think the fact that I made some homemade veggie soup...one of my favorites and ate 2 big bowls did me in. That is what I ate right before the whole black death poop from Anna. It wasn't as good coming back up and having to clean it off the wall really turned me off from veggies again. Oh well, it was a short lived run, but a glorious 2 days nonetheless. Oh for the record I had rice in the soup. EPIC FAIL!!! If you are nauseous during pregnancy avoid rice!! You will have grains of rice stuck in your mouth, throat and all the way down. Once you puke it up you spend the next hour trying to hack it up...much like a cat working on a hairball. On that note some other combos to avoid as they are not pleasant the second time around...
Orange juice and eggs.
Watermelon and garlic mashed potatoes.
Oranges and a granola bar.
Green bean casserole and deviled eggs (an Easter mistake).
Green bean casserole and anything really.
You're welcome.
Chapter 4--They Grew Back!
When I turned 30 I was single, no prospects on the horizon, not sure I would ever have kids so I did some self improvement work. I had a little plastic surgery. Yep, not ashamed to admit it. I had a breast reduction. I had a pound and a half taken off each side...They looked great! Then about 4 years later it all changed when I got pregnant. If you took a topless picture of me now, cut it out in the style of a paper doll and inserted it into a picture of a newly discovered tribe of pygmies or the like you would be hard pressed to find me. It would be like "Where's Waldo" Nat Geo style. My kids have left my body unrecognizable. After 3 pregnancies and breast feeding they are so misshapen and discolored that I seriously look like a character out of Futurama. It is a good thing Chuck loves me because if he ever left me there is not enough Spanx, duct tape or plastic surgery in the world to lure in an unsuspecting suitor. Now at 15 weeks into this pregnancy I have had to add a bra expander to my wardrobe. It is an extra 3 inches that hooks onto the back of your existing bra. At the rate I am expanding I am going to have to go down to the basement and dust off some bungee cords to hold things together...
In the meantime I have to go for a cardiac stress test next week. Nothing serious, because I have a cardiac issue I have to be closely monitored during my pregnancies. So what that means is I have to run on a treadmill for as fast and as long as I can. I am not sure but I thought cruel and unusual punishment is considered unconstitutional in our country. I believe that this qualifies. Making a pregnant lady with enormously huge, sore boobs run...that seems cruel and unusual to me. Nonetheless I have to have it done. I kind of want to go in, just sit down and outright declare that I fail. I am not sure that will fly. In my mind I imagine myself to run gracefully...kind of like one of the Bay Watch babes as they glide across the beach in slow motion. I am sure I will look more like Big Ang (google her) lumbering my way through hoping I don't through myself into a cardiac arrest...
Chapter 5--The Gas We Pass
Yes my friends, I am going there. This is certainly something that was "conveniently" omitted from any pregnancy book I read. In the first trimester you will have gas. A LOT of gas. With all 3 pregnancies I was plagued by what I like to refer to as "Skeeball Farts". Yup, that skeeball...the arcade game where you take one ball from the rack and another one immediately comes down taking its place. I would have these "events" where I would fart and immediately another would be on deck and another and another. Fortunately for me, and society as a whole, they were silent and odorless, however, they were incredibly annoying. Pffft, pffft, pffft, I would turn around wholeheartedly expecting a ribbon of carnival tickets to be shooting out of my ass...you would think I should at least earn a little prize...something for my efforts...
That phase gave way to a very short lived phase (only about 2 days... thank God!!) of rather foul smelling gas. It would catch me off guard each time and I would immediately start gagging on my own stench...which in turn would lead to a puke fest. Try explaining that to very curious (and extremely judgmental) 3 and 5 year olds. Thankfully Anna figured it all out, "Mommy that baby growing in your belly sure has a lot of farts." Why yes, Anna it is the baby...not mommy. Sara was not quite on board with Anna's explanation but after a few little white lies from me she was a believer.
Chapter 6--Where There is Smoke There is Fire
And in the same vain one would imagine where there is gas there is poop. However, during pregnancy that is not always the case. I had my gallbladder out a month before I had Sara. Thankfully constipation was never an issue in that pregnancy or in my second. Unfortunately for me, that was not the case this go around. I had a brief back up for a few days. It was awful. Not only for me, but for my family as well. I would head into the bathroom, do battle for a while and have to come out and face my family who were lined up on the couch anxiously awaiting me to come out with my hand held high in triumph. On more than one occasion I would come out, sweat on my brow and have to dejectedly give them the thumbs down. The look of disappointment on their faces was haunting. Haunting I say. I felt like I had let them down. I feel I have a good appreciation for the fisherman aboard the Bounty Hunter (from the National Geographic Channel's Wicked Tuna). This crew has no luck. They are on the hunt for Giant Blue-fin Tuna. They know they are out there....they can see them on the fishfinder...but it can be days before they get one on the line. They battle the fish for hours, making progress little by little, finally the fish is in their sights and more often than not just as they are about to reel the giant tuna in the boat at the last second the line snaps and the tuna swims away. They have to head back to the dock, with their heads held in shame only to spend the next few days trying to hook another elusive tuna. Yeah, it is kind of like that. Again, thankfully things got back on track after a few days but I now have a deep respect for women that give birth vaginally. Strong work ladies...strong work!
Chapter 7--Tinkle, Tinkle, Little Star
It is a fact that pregnant ladies pee a lot. I always thought that happened towards the end when the baby is so big it presses on your bladder. Nope. It starts happening in the early weeks. Something to do with the shift in your internal fluids. For me the night is the worst. I seriously am up and down 20 times a night. To be completely honest there has been more than one occasion when I contemplated just peeing my bed. I mean both of my kids have peed in my bed...we are due for a new mattress anyway...but I couldn't bring myself to do it...the greatest reason being I know Chuck would have a field day with that and never let me live it down. While out shopping I have walked passed the adult diapers more than once but with my luck I would put them on and that would be the night we have a fire, the TV crews would show up and I would be caught live on TV wearing a diaper. Seriously, that is the thought I had as I eyed a package of Depends in Wal-Mart.
It is not just that I get up a ton to go, but when I do go I no sooner wipe, stand up, turn to flush and I have to go again. I have tried all the tricks (bending forward after I pee, twisting to the side...somehow I think if I squeeze my bladder like a sponge I will be able to get a few extra drops out)...but nothing seems to help. I actually came out of the bathroom the other day, walked into the kitchen and then it happened I may or may not have peed myself. Of course I blurt out, "I peed myself" and ears MaGee (aka Sara) hears me all the way from the other room, tells Anna and they both come running. They thought it was great. They asked if they could see it. No I tell them. Anna then comes to my defense and says, "I still love you even though you pee your pants." Thanks Anna, I can always count on you. Sara on the other hand has been asking me before we leave the house to promise not to pee myself in public that it would be embarrassing. Really? I so wanted to bring up all the times she peed and crapped herself in public...but I was the mature one and let it go...but it was hard to take the high road on that one...
Chapter 8--Is There a Hockey Player in Here?
When pregnant you might sweat. At night I sweat as if my life and the lives of all of those I care about depend on it. My clothes and sheets soak through, then because I am soaking wet I must get cold and wrap myself even tighter in the blankets. By the time I wake up I look as if I just stepped out of the shower and my bedroom smells like a men's locker room full of dirty hockey equipment where the heat has been left on high for a month. It is disgusting. Like I said, we are due to get a new mattress but Chuck wants to wait until I stop sweating...well after the pregnancy comes the baby and after I deliver I usually sweat like this for another couple of months. Add to that I am 40, so once I get through the post partum stage I am most likely going to start menopause and have to endure the night sweats that come with that....I guess we will go mattress shopping in 2018.
Chapter 9--Turkey Anyone?
So if you are a loyal reader of my blog you are well versed in my skin apron...the gross flap of skin that hangs down off of my belly. Lovingly named by my betrothed. Well when I am pregnant I get really big, really fast. My belly is protruding more and much of the skin apron has smoothed out much like a deflated balloon re-inflates as you add air. However, just like a balloon not fully inflated there is that flappy thing that hangs off the end. What is left of my skin apron has kind of morphed into more a turkey waddle. It is much smaller in size and just hangs out there. Weird...and yet intriguing at the same time...I am so curious to see what is going to happen to it next.
Like I said, pregnancy is like a daily science experiment. Most of the intimate ins and outs are not passed down generation to generation...it is like all the existing moms want the ladies without kids to join our club...but they fear if they know the truth they will stay far, far away. As something new and unusual pops up I am amazed that our species has not died out long ago...I mean who would willingly put this upon themselves? Oh wait...I have...3 times now. At least in an effort to inform my fellow women I am pulling back the curtain and letting you know What to REALLY Expect When Expecting!!!
I am a few weeks into my second trimester so most of this is dying down, but it is opening me up to the second round of pregnancy weirdness...stay tuned for what to expect in the 2nd trimester!!!
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Breaking My Silence....the Next Chapter...
So it has been a while since I have written anything on my blog. I apologize, but I have been sick, really sick. No worries though...it is all for a good reason...I am having another BABY!!! I am almost certain that many of my faithful readers just let out a collective "ooops!"...that this must have been a complete surprise....but that is so far from the truth. Believe it or not, but Chuck and I have wanted another child for a couple of years now and we are so happy to announce that we are just over 14 weeks pregnant!!!
I have been laying low for a while now because I have been SO sick. I have literally been doing nothing around the house. The girls and I usually do "play, chores, play" each morning...it is exactly what it sounds like, a little playing, some chores and back to playing (thanks for the great idea Dawn G.!)...so that way I am able to keep on top of the housework. Yeah, I can honestly say I have not done any chores in a good 9 weeks. Chuck will gladly vouch for me on that one and if you saw my house you would know that I was being truthful. I have stopped grocery shopping too. I am going through Market Basket withdrawals...I miss my weekly dose of crazy but I am really taking it easy with this pregnancy (I am 40 years old now...something that was totally thrown in my face when I was required to meet with a genetic counselor a few weeks back due to my "advanced maternal age"...that was an interesting experience that I will share in another post)...Chuck has been handling the grocery shopping and pretty much everything else that needs to get done. Thanks Babe!! The blog took a backseat too..for one I haven't been able to focus on the computer without puking and two, I was nervous I would let the news slip.
So back to the sickness...I have been nauseous around the clock since about week 4. I take that back...I get a break every night from about 11 p.m. to 3 a.m. That is the only time I get a break...that is the only time I am able to eat and keep anything down. The caveat is the whole family is asleep at that time so I can't really cook anything so my choices overnight are not the healthiest...Chuck loves getting up in the morning, walking in the kitchen and seeing the carnage left over...cups everywhere, plates, food wrappers etc., etc.
I always thought I was raising my girls to care about the world and people around them...I have failed as their mother. Turns out they are the LEAST compassionate people on the planet. In addition to the constant nausea I have been vomiting... A LOT!! The fist couple of times they were curious as to what was happening with me. I told them I had the stomach bug. Then the compassion fatigue set in..."Mom, just keep your mouth closed and stop puking!"...while I was mid puke in the bathroom Anna walks in and disgustedly says, "flush the toilet! That's gross!"...really? How about you not walk in the bathroom and actually give me a minute to myself. I find it fascinating that she is grossed out by me. This is the same girl that earlier in the morning that said no as she wiped a huge booger on her shirt right after I asked her if she needed a tissue. And she finds me offensive?
I believe in not announcing my pregnancies until after 12 weeks. Everyone is different but that is what I am comfortable with. There is one problem with that. At about 6-7 weeks along I start to show. A Lot. Remember back to a previous post when I said that while pregnant I look like a VW Bug tipped upright? Yeah, I wasn't kidding. I get huge...epically so. I stayed away from family and friends until I was able to safely announce my news. I did however need to go to work. I did everything under the sun to get the attention off of my belly...I went heavy on the make-up doing a smokey eye that Olivia and Tracy from Jerseylicious would be proud of. One day I wore red lipstick to draw attention off of my midsection...I wore a diamond necklace to work one day for the same reason...that day one of the girls I work with commented on how great I looked after my weight loss. Thank-you....I have been working hard. It was so hard to say that with a straight face because at that point I had already put 12 pounds back on. I think the sparkly necklace had a hypnotic quality..."you don't see my belly....you don't see my belly..." I was running out of distractions...Chuck proposed I start dressing "Goth"...thankfully I made it to the 2nd trimester and I am able to finally share my news!! No need for black lipstick now.
I have started to feel slightly more human the past 2 days so I decided to break my silence. For those of you that have been pregnant before knows that everyday is like a science experiment...and of course I am no different. I think I may write my own pregnancy book, "What to REALLY Expect When Expecting." Or at least write a blog entry along those lines...stay tuned!!
I have been laying low for a while now because I have been SO sick. I have literally been doing nothing around the house. The girls and I usually do "play, chores, play" each morning...it is exactly what it sounds like, a little playing, some chores and back to playing (thanks for the great idea Dawn G.!)...so that way I am able to keep on top of the housework. Yeah, I can honestly say I have not done any chores in a good 9 weeks. Chuck will gladly vouch for me on that one and if you saw my house you would know that I was being truthful. I have stopped grocery shopping too. I am going through Market Basket withdrawals...I miss my weekly dose of crazy but I am really taking it easy with this pregnancy (I am 40 years old now...something that was totally thrown in my face when I was required to meet with a genetic counselor a few weeks back due to my "advanced maternal age"...that was an interesting experience that I will share in another post)...Chuck has been handling the grocery shopping and pretty much everything else that needs to get done. Thanks Babe!! The blog took a backseat too..for one I haven't been able to focus on the computer without puking and two, I was nervous I would let the news slip.
So back to the sickness...I have been nauseous around the clock since about week 4. I take that back...I get a break every night from about 11 p.m. to 3 a.m. That is the only time I get a break...that is the only time I am able to eat and keep anything down. The caveat is the whole family is asleep at that time so I can't really cook anything so my choices overnight are not the healthiest...Chuck loves getting up in the morning, walking in the kitchen and seeing the carnage left over...cups everywhere, plates, food wrappers etc., etc.
I always thought I was raising my girls to care about the world and people around them...I have failed as their mother. Turns out they are the LEAST compassionate people on the planet. In addition to the constant nausea I have been vomiting... A LOT!! The fist couple of times they were curious as to what was happening with me. I told them I had the stomach bug. Then the compassion fatigue set in..."Mom, just keep your mouth closed and stop puking!"...while I was mid puke in the bathroom Anna walks in and disgustedly says, "flush the toilet! That's gross!"...really? How about you not walk in the bathroom and actually give me a minute to myself. I find it fascinating that she is grossed out by me. This is the same girl that earlier in the morning that said no as she wiped a huge booger on her shirt right after I asked her if she needed a tissue. And she finds me offensive?
I believe in not announcing my pregnancies until after 12 weeks. Everyone is different but that is what I am comfortable with. There is one problem with that. At about 6-7 weeks along I start to show. A Lot. Remember back to a previous post when I said that while pregnant I look like a VW Bug tipped upright? Yeah, I wasn't kidding. I get huge...epically so. I stayed away from family and friends until I was able to safely announce my news. I did however need to go to work. I did everything under the sun to get the attention off of my belly...I went heavy on the make-up doing a smokey eye that Olivia and Tracy from Jerseylicious would be proud of. One day I wore red lipstick to draw attention off of my midsection...I wore a diamond necklace to work one day for the same reason...that day one of the girls I work with commented on how great I looked after my weight loss. Thank-you....I have been working hard. It was so hard to say that with a straight face because at that point I had already put 12 pounds back on. I think the sparkly necklace had a hypnotic quality..."you don't see my belly....you don't see my belly..." I was running out of distractions...Chuck proposed I start dressing "Goth"...thankfully I made it to the 2nd trimester and I am able to finally share my news!! No need for black lipstick now.
I have started to feel slightly more human the past 2 days so I decided to break my silence. For those of you that have been pregnant before knows that everyday is like a science experiment...and of course I am no different. I think I may write my own pregnancy book, "What to REALLY Expect When Expecting." Or at least write a blog entry along those lines...stay tuned!!
Monday, February 18, 2013
I don't have enough bones for that...
So my blog has been MIA for a few weeks. I could say it was because I have been busy with the kids...we did have a ton of dentist, doctor and school appointments, throw in a blizzard that included a two snow days, a few migraines, and just no real time to set aside to go online...because that is all true. But there was another issue...a more serious one....our computer got a virus and needed to be reformatted. Not a huge deal, however, after it was reformatted the first time you signed into a website you needed to enter your password. I am not proud of this and I am just gonna out it out there...I could not remember the password for my blog. Yup...it's true. When I created the password I came up with something cute and easy to remember. Or so I thought. So after about 2 weeks and a 57,000 variations on what I thought the password was I got it!!
So there really is not much new to write about but I will catch you up on some not so exciting things...
* I recently had an appointment in an inner city hospital...I will call it "the Friendly's"...that is a silly little joke that only the locals of a certain age would get...however, over the years I found a secret valet parking spot a block away from the regular valet that is always jammed no matter the time of day or night. It is my sweet, little slice of heaven where my car is delivered in a reasonable time and I don't have to wait 45 minutes with the dregs of society suffering from God only knows what communicable disease. So the girls and I are waiting for the car...listening to a volunteer tinker away on a baby grand piano...see, I told you this parking area was the best kept secret in town. All of the sudden 2 armed police officers come in with a prisoner...he is sitting down in a wheelchair but he is cuffed and shackled. Whatever...he apparently broke some type of law to land himself in that situation but sure, lets get him treated at one of the world's best hospitals. But I digress...so he is being wheeled by us and looks right at the girls and says, "stay in school"...like I said in my Facebook post that day...I did appreciate his sentiment but I would have rathered teach the girls the value of an education on my own terms...not with an audience of strangers. Everyone was looking and listening for my response. Sara of course asked right away why she needed to stay in school. I explained that if you learned everything you were supposed to and paid attention to your teachers you would be able to be whatever you wanted, get a good job and have a nice life. To which she responded, "or else I will have to go to the hospital?"...guess the cuffs and shackles escaped her. I just said "yeah". In a way I was grateful to the prisoner because he distracted my kids from the site I really wanted to shelter them from...and oh boy was it a doozy...Now I know people come in all shapes, sizes and body configuration... I don't hide that from my children..however, the site that was walking through the door was beyond my skill set in explaining things to children...something that I typically pride myself on. So let me try to paint this picture for you and trust me any description I give CAN NOT give you the full effect. A normal looking man came walking in the door, well, at least his top half was normal. The bottom half was a completely different story. He had these black sweat pants on. At least I think they were pants...maybe tights? His legs were normal appearing but he had this thing hanging down in front of him. Hanging down almost to the floor. At first I thought it was a front bum, or skin apron. If you have been following my blog you understand that I know a thing or two about front bums. This was not a front bum. Then it hit me. Those were his testicles, or balls if you will dangling precariously close to the floor. I have NEVER seen anything like that before..and I am a HUGE fan of Discovery Health...it was as if he had 4 legs. It was so disturbing, yet I could not look away. I was frantically trying to figure out the logistics of what the hell was happening inside of those black tights. At the same time I was terrified for him that with one slight squat in his step his balls would drag across the sidewalk, get a slight run in the tights and the weight of whatever he was holding back would blow those tights apart and my girls would be learning a life lesson they were WAY to young to comprehend. Thankfully that crisis was averted and in some strange way I will forever be grateful to the jailbird that saved my girls from seeing low (and I mean LOW) hanging balls.
* I have also spent some time catching up on my quality DVR shows. Catfish is one of them. I have loved this story since the beginning. I know that Manti Teo would disagree but he has brought my beloved Nev to the masses in all of his self indulgent glory. This show fascinates me on so many levels. First, I can understand how someone would fall for a catfish...they usually have suffered a trauma, have low self esteem or are just dying to fit in...they meet someone online that makes them feel good about themselves and they want to believe it is real. I get it. What I find so intriguing are the people that are the catfishes. The ones that are deceiving their prey...sometimes for years on end. I just don't understand why they would do that to another human being. I find them to be much sadder and pathetic than the victim. Then for them to both agree to be on the show and have it air publicly takes it to another level I just don't get. But what makes this show so amazingly good is Nev. He is so self indulgent in the way he uses the camera angles, in the "deep" analysis he does of the people involved and how every episode they show him sleeping and waking up without a shirt on. It is overly self serving but in such a deliciously, guilty pleasure kind of way. If you haven't yet you should check it out.
*In dealing with a recent bout of insomnia I came across something hysterical on late night TV. It was a commercial for a dating site. At first I thought it had to be a Saturday Night Live skit...but quickly realized it was not Saturday night and it was a different network. Now I am a huge fan of online dating. That is how my marriage started. There are sites for all walks of life...seniors, Jewish people, Christians, etc. etc. There is a new site for a cultural group that I never would have thought would need their own site. Farmers. Yup. Farmers. It is called Farmersonly.com. Their tag line I sh*t you not is "because city folk just don't get it". Go ahead, Google it. You will not be disappointed. Did you check it out? You're welcome.
* I have also spent way too much time stewing over the fact that Kim Kar-douche-ian and her Jackass of a boyfriend Kanye are having a baby. Yes, I feel completely comfortable in calling him a jackass. Why, you ask? Because our Commander in Chief did. Yup, Obama and I don't agree on much but I am completely on board with his description of Kanye as a jackass. So why am I so upset? Because I know so many people that desperately want a baby. They would be awesome parents too. They want to parent for parenting sake...not simply for procreation's sake and certainly not to extend their 15 minutes of fame and make money of the birth of an innocent child. She has no real talent....she is famous for having sex on tape. That is it. Let me just state I think she is disgusting. If I were to strip naked, lather up in the slobber from a Newfoundland dog's mouth (with all due respect to Newfies), roll around on the bathroom floor of the Salem, MA Market Basket on payday, on the eve of a blizzard then have a swab taken I can say with absolutely no scientific certainty I would have less communicable diseases than a swab of Kim K's vagina. To announce the impending birth of their child Kanye introduces her as his baby mamma. That is real classy Kanye...with a capital K. My beloved TMZ always makes fun of Kim's husband Kris Humphries (yes...they are still married) as being dumb as rocks. I think he is smarter than people give him credit for. He made him out to be an idiot just so she could cash in on a wedding special. I say you hang on with both hands Kris and make her life miserable. If they are still legally married when the baby is born he is the presumed father in their state. Kris, I would insist on visitation and make her pay YOU child support. She made a mockery of you I say fight fire with fire my friend. That is all I have to say on the subject.
* In recent weeks I found out that one of my CNN man crushes, no, not The Silver Fox my beloved Anderson Cooper, but the other slice of yumminess... Dr. Sanjay Gupta is only 43 (just 3 years older than me). That made me feel like such a slacker, he is married with 3 children, an Emmy award winner for various CNN specials, hosts his own CNN program, is the Executive Producer on a new dramatic Series on TNN (Monday Mornings which the one episode I saw was pretty good) oh and he is a flippin neurosurgeon!! Time to get crackin Erin. Maybe I will take a course or something....
* Anna has this cute new thing...if she is being lazy she will say, "I can't clean my toys...I am too little I don't have enough bones to do that." "I can't eat a healthy snack, I don't have enough bones to do that." On the other hand if it is something she wants to do she suddenly has enough bones. I thought you had a set number of bones that carry you through your lifespan...apparently Anna is the medical outlier on that one.
* When did the number sign (#) switch to the pound sign and then morph into something called a hashtag? I am still old school and it will always be the number sign to me.
*I posted a picture of me in the infamous skinny jeans on my facebook page. I am glad I did. The skinny jeans are out of commission for the next couple of weeks. Chuck has been doing the grocery shopping lately. Mysteriously the ratio of ding dongs and Doritoes to fruits and veggies is heavily in the junk food column. The skinny jeans now need to be coupled with a pair of Spanx...they were tight enough and hot enough as they were...spanx takes it to a new level. It is a not so secret fact that I believe that one day I will fall victim to spontaneous human combustion...the jeans with the spanxs made me so hot that it felt as if I sat down the friction from bending my legs would act like a match striking against the matchbook. If I move too quickly I WILL engulf in flames. Cue the new Alicia Keys song...That girl is on fire!! Therefore, in an effort to extend the length of my life the skinny jeans are back in the closet. It takes forever to lose the weight but a few weeks of hedonism and it comes piling back on....time to get back on track!!
*Last, but certainly not least...it has take 5 years and 4 months but drum roll please....I have been validated as a mother!!! At night after story time the girls need to do "tinkle and teeth"...pee and brush their teeth before bed. This is a set rule I do not waver on. EVERY night Sara argues and ends up slamming the bathroom door while yelling "FINE!" The other night she flat out refused and went to bed. I didn't fight. The next morning she came out and sheepishly said, "I should have listened to you last night....I peed my bed." I so wanted to jump up and down and sing I told you so! I told you so! and lecture her on why I have certain rules. But I didn't I just silently went into her room, climbed up the bunk bed ladder and stripped her pee soaked sheets with the biggest, self satisfying smile on my face. Life lesson learned...and the win goes to...MOMMY!!! Yeah right. Later that night the door slamming went on...business as usual. But I am going to relive that moment over and over...knowing for at least 10 seconds Sara acknowledged my wisdom as her mother.
So there really is not much new to write about but I will catch you up on some not so exciting things...
* I recently had an appointment in an inner city hospital...I will call it "the Friendly's"...that is a silly little joke that only the locals of a certain age would get...however, over the years I found a secret valet parking spot a block away from the regular valet that is always jammed no matter the time of day or night. It is my sweet, little slice of heaven where my car is delivered in a reasonable time and I don't have to wait 45 minutes with the dregs of society suffering from God only knows what communicable disease. So the girls and I are waiting for the car...listening to a volunteer tinker away on a baby grand piano...see, I told you this parking area was the best kept secret in town. All of the sudden 2 armed police officers come in with a prisoner...he is sitting down in a wheelchair but he is cuffed and shackled. Whatever...he apparently broke some type of law to land himself in that situation but sure, lets get him treated at one of the world's best hospitals. But I digress...so he is being wheeled by us and looks right at the girls and says, "stay in school"...like I said in my Facebook post that day...I did appreciate his sentiment but I would have rathered teach the girls the value of an education on my own terms...not with an audience of strangers. Everyone was looking and listening for my response. Sara of course asked right away why she needed to stay in school. I explained that if you learned everything you were supposed to and paid attention to your teachers you would be able to be whatever you wanted, get a good job and have a nice life. To which she responded, "or else I will have to go to the hospital?"...guess the cuffs and shackles escaped her. I just said "yeah". In a way I was grateful to the prisoner because he distracted my kids from the site I really wanted to shelter them from...and oh boy was it a doozy...Now I know people come in all shapes, sizes and body configuration... I don't hide that from my children..however, the site that was walking through the door was beyond my skill set in explaining things to children...something that I typically pride myself on. So let me try to paint this picture for you and trust me any description I give CAN NOT give you the full effect. A normal looking man came walking in the door, well, at least his top half was normal. The bottom half was a completely different story. He had these black sweat pants on. At least I think they were pants...maybe tights? His legs were normal appearing but he had this thing hanging down in front of him. Hanging down almost to the floor. At first I thought it was a front bum, or skin apron. If you have been following my blog you understand that I know a thing or two about front bums. This was not a front bum. Then it hit me. Those were his testicles, or balls if you will dangling precariously close to the floor. I have NEVER seen anything like that before..and I am a HUGE fan of Discovery Health...it was as if he had 4 legs. It was so disturbing, yet I could not look away. I was frantically trying to figure out the logistics of what the hell was happening inside of those black tights. At the same time I was terrified for him that with one slight squat in his step his balls would drag across the sidewalk, get a slight run in the tights and the weight of whatever he was holding back would blow those tights apart and my girls would be learning a life lesson they were WAY to young to comprehend. Thankfully that crisis was averted and in some strange way I will forever be grateful to the jailbird that saved my girls from seeing low (and I mean LOW) hanging balls.
* I have also spent some time catching up on my quality DVR shows. Catfish is one of them. I have loved this story since the beginning. I know that Manti Teo would disagree but he has brought my beloved Nev to the masses in all of his self indulgent glory. This show fascinates me on so many levels. First, I can understand how someone would fall for a catfish...they usually have suffered a trauma, have low self esteem or are just dying to fit in...they meet someone online that makes them feel good about themselves and they want to believe it is real. I get it. What I find so intriguing are the people that are the catfishes. The ones that are deceiving their prey...sometimes for years on end. I just don't understand why they would do that to another human being. I find them to be much sadder and pathetic than the victim. Then for them to both agree to be on the show and have it air publicly takes it to another level I just don't get. But what makes this show so amazingly good is Nev. He is so self indulgent in the way he uses the camera angles, in the "deep" analysis he does of the people involved and how every episode they show him sleeping and waking up without a shirt on. It is overly self serving but in such a deliciously, guilty pleasure kind of way. If you haven't yet you should check it out.
*In dealing with a recent bout of insomnia I came across something hysterical on late night TV. It was a commercial for a dating site. At first I thought it had to be a Saturday Night Live skit...but quickly realized it was not Saturday night and it was a different network. Now I am a huge fan of online dating. That is how my marriage started. There are sites for all walks of life...seniors, Jewish people, Christians, etc. etc. There is a new site for a cultural group that I never would have thought would need their own site. Farmers. Yup. Farmers. It is called Farmersonly.com. Their tag line I sh*t you not is "because city folk just don't get it". Go ahead, Google it. You will not be disappointed. Did you check it out? You're welcome.
* I have also spent way too much time stewing over the fact that Kim Kar-douche-ian and her Jackass of a boyfriend Kanye are having a baby. Yes, I feel completely comfortable in calling him a jackass. Why, you ask? Because our Commander in Chief did. Yup, Obama and I don't agree on much but I am completely on board with his description of Kanye as a jackass. So why am I so upset? Because I know so many people that desperately want a baby. They would be awesome parents too. They want to parent for parenting sake...not simply for procreation's sake and certainly not to extend their 15 minutes of fame and make money of the birth of an innocent child. She has no real talent....she is famous for having sex on tape. That is it. Let me just state I think she is disgusting. If I were to strip naked, lather up in the slobber from a Newfoundland dog's mouth (with all due respect to Newfies), roll around on the bathroom floor of the Salem, MA Market Basket on payday, on the eve of a blizzard then have a swab taken I can say with absolutely no scientific certainty I would have less communicable diseases than a swab of Kim K's vagina. To announce the impending birth of their child Kanye introduces her as his baby mamma. That is real classy Kanye...with a capital K. My beloved TMZ always makes fun of Kim's husband Kris Humphries (yes...they are still married) as being dumb as rocks. I think he is smarter than people give him credit for. He made him out to be an idiot just so she could cash in on a wedding special. I say you hang on with both hands Kris and make her life miserable. If they are still legally married when the baby is born he is the presumed father in their state. Kris, I would insist on visitation and make her pay YOU child support. She made a mockery of you I say fight fire with fire my friend. That is all I have to say on the subject.
* In recent weeks I found out that one of my CNN man crushes, no, not The Silver Fox my beloved Anderson Cooper, but the other slice of yumminess... Dr. Sanjay Gupta is only 43 (just 3 years older than me). That made me feel like such a slacker, he is married with 3 children, an Emmy award winner for various CNN specials, hosts his own CNN program, is the Executive Producer on a new dramatic Series on TNN (Monday Mornings which the one episode I saw was pretty good) oh and he is a flippin neurosurgeon!! Time to get crackin Erin. Maybe I will take a course or something....
* Anna has this cute new thing...if she is being lazy she will say, "I can't clean my toys...I am too little I don't have enough bones to do that." "I can't eat a healthy snack, I don't have enough bones to do that." On the other hand if it is something she wants to do she suddenly has enough bones. I thought you had a set number of bones that carry you through your lifespan...apparently Anna is the medical outlier on that one.
* When did the number sign (#) switch to the pound sign and then morph into something called a hashtag? I am still old school and it will always be the number sign to me.
*I posted a picture of me in the infamous skinny jeans on my facebook page. I am glad I did. The skinny jeans are out of commission for the next couple of weeks. Chuck has been doing the grocery shopping lately. Mysteriously the ratio of ding dongs and Doritoes to fruits and veggies is heavily in the junk food column. The skinny jeans now need to be coupled with a pair of Spanx...they were tight enough and hot enough as they were...spanx takes it to a new level. It is a not so secret fact that I believe that one day I will fall victim to spontaneous human combustion...the jeans with the spanxs made me so hot that it felt as if I sat down the friction from bending my legs would act like a match striking against the matchbook. If I move too quickly I WILL engulf in flames. Cue the new Alicia Keys song...That girl is on fire!! Therefore, in an effort to extend the length of my life the skinny jeans are back in the closet. It takes forever to lose the weight but a few weeks of hedonism and it comes piling back on....time to get back on track!!
*Last, but certainly not least...it has take 5 years and 4 months but drum roll please....I have been validated as a mother!!! At night after story time the girls need to do "tinkle and teeth"...pee and brush their teeth before bed. This is a set rule I do not waver on. EVERY night Sara argues and ends up slamming the bathroom door while yelling "FINE!" The other night she flat out refused and went to bed. I didn't fight. The next morning she came out and sheepishly said, "I should have listened to you last night....I peed my bed." I so wanted to jump up and down and sing I told you so! I told you so! and lecture her on why I have certain rules. But I didn't I just silently went into her room, climbed up the bunk bed ladder and stripped her pee soaked sheets with the biggest, self satisfying smile on my face. Life lesson learned...and the win goes to...MOMMY!!! Yeah right. Later that night the door slamming went on...business as usual. But I am going to relive that moment over and over...knowing for at least 10 seconds Sara acknowledged my wisdom as her mother.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
481 months....
I think I may have waited a little too long to have my kids. Why you ask? Because lately I am feeling like a crabby old lady. Little things have been bugging the crap out of me!! Here are a few examples...
** Counting a child's age in months past 18 months. Once you hit 18 months you are a year and a half old...going forward you are either a numbered year or a numbered year "and a half". For example; a year and a half, 2 years old, 2 and a half years old...you can follow the pattern. On top of that there comes a certain age that you drop the "and a half". I was reading an ad for a local story time and it was geared for children "birth to 54 months". Seriously! It said that. I had to think for a moment...secret's out...I suck at math. It took a bit for it to register they meant birth to 4 and a half. Why couldn't they just put that? Maybe I am in the wrong here. Maybe when filling out paperwork I am really supposed to be putting down 481 months instead of 40 years old. Maybe that is the new thing to do. I might try it and see the reaction I get. It may seem like a small insignificant issue to most but it is like flippin nails on a chalkboard to me.
** Technology. Ok, that is nothing new...it is well documented that I am not a fan of technology, but technology and children, more specifically my children really is annoying. We recently got an ipad and an ipod touch. If it were up to me I would not have spent the money on them, but we got them none the less. I am pretty strict in limiting the kids use of them. I want them to be able to "play". Just play with their toys, learn how to share and take turns and learn all the important life skills that come along with playing. That and I have no idea how to use either device. Well, the other day I said something about the "little ipad" and Anna corrects me saying that it is called and ipod, not ipad. To which I respond, "that is a shame at 3 you know the difference...that means we are failing as your parents." I know people argue that the kids need these skills. Really? The only skill I can discern is the ability to swipe your finger across a germ infested piece of glass. You can learn the same stuff by playing the game Memory, playing with a toy kitchen set, blocks, play-doh etc. If we are being honest here, yeah, it is a great distraction for them, is fun and it helps parents get a few minutes to themselves but in terms of skills they "need"...I am not convinced a 3 and 5 year old "need" technology.
** The idea that a child's feelings should be spared at every turn. All the kid's TV shows always talk about how everyone is special. I do agree with that...I am not that crabby, but, why is it that so many parents cushion every blow so their children never need to face adversity? Sorry, not real life!! You are not going to be invited to every birthday party or play date, you are not going to win every round of Candy Land, and just because you are awake and alert does not mean you deserve a sticker on your sticker chart. The other day Sara won a running race and Anna said she was the second winner. I am not proud of this but it just came out...."you know what the second winner is? Yup, the first loser." Yikes it may sound harsh...but it is true. You can't to win em all. Like with this blog post...I am sure most of you will not like it but hey...like I said...you can't win em all.
To end on a light note here are some of Anna's best quotes this week.
-- I asked her if she had gone pee before bedtime stories. She told me she did and asked if I heard it. I told her no, what did it sound like...she answered, "like rainbows sprinkling down."
-- She comes walking out of the bathroom, sans pants of course. She has her hand behind her back and says to Chuck in a sing song voice, "I bet you can't find my finger." Chuck gets up and peeks behind her back and sure enough he couldn't find it because it was buried in her ass crack! Good one Anna! You tricked Daddy!
** Counting a child's age in months past 18 months. Once you hit 18 months you are a year and a half old...going forward you are either a numbered year or a numbered year "and a half". For example; a year and a half, 2 years old, 2 and a half years old...you can follow the pattern. On top of that there comes a certain age that you drop the "and a half". I was reading an ad for a local story time and it was geared for children "birth to 54 months". Seriously! It said that. I had to think for a moment...secret's out...I suck at math. It took a bit for it to register they meant birth to 4 and a half. Why couldn't they just put that? Maybe I am in the wrong here. Maybe when filling out paperwork I am really supposed to be putting down 481 months instead of 40 years old. Maybe that is the new thing to do. I might try it and see the reaction I get. It may seem like a small insignificant issue to most but it is like flippin nails on a chalkboard to me.
** Technology. Ok, that is nothing new...it is well documented that I am not a fan of technology, but technology and children, more specifically my children really is annoying. We recently got an ipad and an ipod touch. If it were up to me I would not have spent the money on them, but we got them none the less. I am pretty strict in limiting the kids use of them. I want them to be able to "play". Just play with their toys, learn how to share and take turns and learn all the important life skills that come along with playing. That and I have no idea how to use either device. Well, the other day I said something about the "little ipad" and Anna corrects me saying that it is called and ipod, not ipad. To which I respond, "that is a shame at 3 you know the difference...that means we are failing as your parents." I know people argue that the kids need these skills. Really? The only skill I can discern is the ability to swipe your finger across a germ infested piece of glass. You can learn the same stuff by playing the game Memory, playing with a toy kitchen set, blocks, play-doh etc. If we are being honest here, yeah, it is a great distraction for them, is fun and it helps parents get a few minutes to themselves but in terms of skills they "need"...I am not convinced a 3 and 5 year old "need" technology.
** The idea that a child's feelings should be spared at every turn. All the kid's TV shows always talk about how everyone is special. I do agree with that...I am not that crabby, but, why is it that so many parents cushion every blow so their children never need to face adversity? Sorry, not real life!! You are not going to be invited to every birthday party or play date, you are not going to win every round of Candy Land, and just because you are awake and alert does not mean you deserve a sticker on your sticker chart. The other day Sara won a running race and Anna said she was the second winner. I am not proud of this but it just came out...."you know what the second winner is? Yup, the first loser." Yikes it may sound harsh...but it is true. You can't to win em all. Like with this blog post...I am sure most of you will not like it but hey...like I said...you can't win em all.
To end on a light note here are some of Anna's best quotes this week.
-- I asked her if she had gone pee before bedtime stories. She told me she did and asked if I heard it. I told her no, what did it sound like...she answered, "like rainbows sprinkling down."
-- She comes walking out of the bathroom, sans pants of course. She has her hand behind her back and says to Chuck in a sing song voice, "I bet you can't find my finger." Chuck gets up and peeks behind her back and sure enough he couldn't find it because it was buried in her ass crack! Good one Anna! You tricked Daddy!
Monday, January 14, 2013
Mining for gems
Here are a few gems heard and seen around our house this past week...
* Sara is back into her rhyming. She rhymes everything including people's names. My husband's name is Chuck. That rhymes with several things. I will let you sit with that for a moment............................OK then....
* Last night I was getting CLEAN pajamas out of the drawer. I took said CLEAN jammies and laid them on the couch. That is when I felt something sticky on my finger. I looked and it was a HUGE booger. For the record my hand/fingers were no where near my nose all day. Someone really went out of their way to hide the evidence. Hmmm, here is a thought; it would have been much more convenient and quicker to just get a tissue. I guess that is what I get for encouraging my kids to be creative in their problem solving.
* At the lunch table the other day Sara said Anna smelled bad. She then announced that Anna made her smell her butt. I would have paid money to hear how that conversation went down. Just thinking out loud hear.... can anyone really make you do something you don't want to?
* The girls were outside at my in-laws. They had a giant pumpkin outside. It was really soft and squishy...the kids were having a blast playing with it. I guess at one point Sara told Chuck that it reminded her of my belly. Man, was he chomping at the bit when I got home...I think it gave him great pleasure to relay that story to me. Sara told me too, but she added that although she likes playing with my squishy belly the pumpkin was better because you could poke holes in it with a stick. Not sure if I should be happy or sad that I was beat out by a pumpkin on the fun scale.
* Chuck recently got an ipod touch. Anna loves playing with it. The other day she was taking pictures with it. She found some feature that has a little cartoon character guy on the screen and you take a picture of him with a real background. She was scrolling through pictures she had taken, describing them to me, "look there is the guy on our couch"..."he is in the toy bin"..."he is on our table"..."look mom, here is a picture of the guy on my vagina". She took a picture of her crotch and the little cartoon guy was just hanging out there smiling. Thankfully she had her pants on, but it took all my might to not burst out laughing. Not sure what I should be reading between the lines here...is she on track to be an amazing photographer or a porn star? I will, again, let you just sit with that for a moment.
* I was in my room and overheard this exchange...Chuck found a little piece of hardened poop in Anna's bathroom (also known as the space next to the couch in our living room). He asked if anyone knew about it. One of them very quickly threw Ms. Amerigold (our guinea pig) under the bus. Chuck did not believe them. And here is why...follow me for a minute... A wine expert is a "sommelier", a cheese expert, and yes they exist...I found that out at the super shi-shi restaurant we went to for my birthday, is called an "affineur", you're welcome. Well, apparently Chuck is a "crapineur " because he said, "that is not what her poop smells like, her poop smells different". For some reason, and I am not entirely sure I want to know why, he can distinguish the distinct subtleties of our household poop aromas.
And there you have it...our week in words.
* Sara is back into her rhyming. She rhymes everything including people's names. My husband's name is Chuck. That rhymes with several things. I will let you sit with that for a moment............................OK then....
* Last night I was getting CLEAN pajamas out of the drawer. I took said CLEAN jammies and laid them on the couch. That is when I felt something sticky on my finger. I looked and it was a HUGE booger. For the record my hand/fingers were no where near my nose all day. Someone really went out of their way to hide the evidence. Hmmm, here is a thought; it would have been much more convenient and quicker to just get a tissue. I guess that is what I get for encouraging my kids to be creative in their problem solving.
* At the lunch table the other day Sara said Anna smelled bad. She then announced that Anna made her smell her butt. I would have paid money to hear how that conversation went down. Just thinking out loud hear.... can anyone really make you do something you don't want to?
* The girls were outside at my in-laws. They had a giant pumpkin outside. It was really soft and squishy...the kids were having a blast playing with it. I guess at one point Sara told Chuck that it reminded her of my belly. Man, was he chomping at the bit when I got home...I think it gave him great pleasure to relay that story to me. Sara told me too, but she added that although she likes playing with my squishy belly the pumpkin was better because you could poke holes in it with a stick. Not sure if I should be happy or sad that I was beat out by a pumpkin on the fun scale.
* Chuck recently got an ipod touch. Anna loves playing with it. The other day she was taking pictures with it. She found some feature that has a little cartoon character guy on the screen and you take a picture of him with a real background. She was scrolling through pictures she had taken, describing them to me, "look there is the guy on our couch"..."he is in the toy bin"..."he is on our table"..."look mom, here is a picture of the guy on my vagina". She took a picture of her crotch and the little cartoon guy was just hanging out there smiling. Thankfully she had her pants on, but it took all my might to not burst out laughing. Not sure what I should be reading between the lines here...is she on track to be an amazing photographer or a porn star? I will, again, let you just sit with that for a moment.
* I was in my room and overheard this exchange...Chuck found a little piece of hardened poop in Anna's bathroom (also known as the space next to the couch in our living room). He asked if anyone knew about it. One of them very quickly threw Ms. Amerigold (our guinea pig) under the bus. Chuck did not believe them. And here is why...follow me for a minute... A wine expert is a "sommelier", a cheese expert, and yes they exist...I found that out at the super shi-shi restaurant we went to for my birthday, is called an "affineur", you're welcome. Well, apparently Chuck is a "crapineur " because he said, "that is not what her poop smells like, her poop smells different". For some reason, and I am not entirely sure I want to know why, he can distinguish the distinct subtleties of our household poop aromas.
And there you have it...our week in words.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Life is short...wear skinny jeans?
So I went out the other night. Without my children. Without my husband. Yup, I know right? That almost NEVER happens. But it did. I was invited out and I accepted. I knew that it would take some finagling on my part; switch my hours at work, find a sitter for the girls, get ready at work and then drive 75 miles each way, but I am trying to have a new attitude so I threw caution to the wind and went for it! In the past 6 months several people close to me have been diagnosed with some pretty sh*tty stuff. Stuff that really makes you stop and smell the roses. So, not sure if any of you know this or not but I turned 40 a month ago...I may have mentioned it once or twice.. I know, I still throw up in my mouth a little bit each time I hear it too. So like I have said before; IF I live until 80 I am now half done with my life, if I don't quite make it until 80 then my life is MORE than half over. I want to make the most of it. So I decided that I am going to accept as many invitations and participate in as many life events that I can reasonably accommodate. That being said; my boss let me shift my schedule on Friday night...Chuck came home from work a bit early so I could get to work early (he even went to the ATM for me, filled up the car and let me take his car so I wouldn't look like a total nerd pulling up in the mini-van...what a nice guy!) I colored the gray roots in my hair, did 2 nights of my Neutrogena build a tan and plucked the grays out of my eyebrows. I was ready. But wait...I had nothing cool to wear. I was meeting up with some of the people I used to work with. Most of them I hadn't seen in 3 years. We were just going to a bar/restaurant but I wanted to look as if I belonged out in society. Not like a mom that had thrown in the towel. I looked through my closets and the only presentable things I have are my work clothes. Meh. I didn't want to go to the bar looking like a social worker. Not that I am a social worker it is just that Child Life Specialists, for the most part, dress like social workers...layered cardigans and dress pants are the unofficial uniform of the Child Life Community. Fine for going to Panera for lunch but I was going to a bar. I wanted to somewhat fit in with the crowd...not have all the revelers think I am working for the ABCC coming to crack down on fake ID's. What to wear? What to wear?
SKINNY JEANS!!! Of course, that is what all the cool kids are wearing!! Sara has 2 pairs for Christ' s sake. She is 5 and trendier than me. I have lost a decent amount of weight this past year (31.6 pounds if you are curious...YAY me!!) and my friend was just telling me it was time to buy new pants. She was sick of seeing my underwear hang out of my jeans. I tried to tell her that jeans halfway down your ass were all the rage but then she reminded me that I am not an adolescent boy and that the trend also included colorful boxers and not flowery Hanes her Way undies. Point taken...off I went to get some new jeans. How hard could this be? Ha- Ha...it took me 3 stores and about 12 pairs of skinny jeans until I found the pair I bought. I ended up in the dressing room at Old Navy surrounded by all kinds of skinny jeans "the Diva", "the Flirt", "the Sweetheart"... these were the actual names of the jeans. I did have 2 very helpful teenagers helping me...oh and Sara. So the 3 girls get together and decide on a pair for me. They are called...are you ready for this?..."rock star super skinny jeans"...I sh*t you not...that is even embroidered on the inside of the jeans...lest you forget you are a rock star. I, for the record, am not a rock star but again, I threw caution to the wind and bought them. I think the Old Navy girls play a little game amongst themselves when a woman of a particular age comes in and wants to buy something cool...the salesperson that convinces them to buy the most ridiculous, age IN-appropriate piece of clothing wins. And the winner is...Ashley. She had me at, "anyone can wear skinny jeans...they make everybody look good...and they are so in style right now"...SOLD!!
I come home and try them on...it is the first time Chuck is speechless. Is that a good speechless like his wife is such a super hot rock star that he has no words? Or is a bad speechless like Oh My God his wife looks ridiculous and he doesn't know how to convey that in a delicate way without crushing his wife's self esteem? All he did finally manage to say was he wasn't used to seeing me in such tight pants. Hmm...not sure how to take that but I forged on with my plan. Skinny jeans are all the rage. Society can't be wrong. Right?
So Friday night comes and I get changed at work. I have the jeans on, a black turtle neck with a chunky necklace and of course some black boots. I dug out my super cute and ridiculously uncomfortable black boots which I may have mentioned in an earlier post. You can not wear skinny jeans without boots, at least that is what the Old Navy teens told me.
I am driving the hour and a half to the bar and I am all excited to be out on a Friday night. I am singing along with the radio...I am really getting into it...it was like I was putting on a live concert for the imaginary people in the car. Then it hits me. I have been singing along to a CD I made years ago. The updated version of a mix tape if you will. Sadly, the mix includes Chicago, James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt...Linda effing Ronstadt!! Oh My GOD!!! I am not fighting the good fight! I am a middle aged woman trying to relive a little bit of her glory days!! It was 5:30 in the evening and I was drinking a coffee to give myself a little extra "pep". WTF? I just said "pep" old people say that!! Am I am going to be the old lady at the bar trying a little too hard to fit in all the while drinking a glass of Chardonnay? I remember seeing her back in my fake ID days...back at the Spaghetti Club in Cambridge. Am I her? I turn the radio down and take stock of the situation. OK, for the record I don't look 40. At least I don't think I do. The pants were a bit tight and hot...kind of felt like I had old fashioned long johns on. But damn it...I think I look OK. I am not her! 40 is the new 20. Screw that! I am going to walk into that bar with my head held high.
I get to the bar and meet up with the old crew. Since I had a long drive back I was not drinking alcohol. So for better or worse I had all my faculties in place all night. I think it may have been for worse. As the night went on the music was getting louder and annoying as all hell. I literally had to yell to have a conversation with the girl right next to me. As my friend said everyone in there was about 6 years old. OK, MAYBE 21. The bar was in a college town so I am pretty confident in saying many of them were there with their fake ID's. So in all likelihood I was at least 20 years older than the majority of the crowd. But man I was rocking the skinny jeans (in my head anyway). In reality they were way too tight and man they were hot! They did make my legs look tiny but every time I sat on the bar stool I could feel them slip down, fear not though, my mommy undies were half way up my back so thankfully I was not rocking the plumber's crack. Speaking of my ass...I really don't have one to speak of... at least not in the right place. If you have been following my blog from the beginning you may remember that I have a "skin apron" or a front bum. If I could have spun my lower half around like you can a Barbie doll I would have worn the sh*t out of those jeans. You see, my real backside is flat, but the skinny jeans compacted my front bum into this nice, tight rounded sphere....if, like I said my bottom half could have been in reverse I would have been the suburban mom's answer to Kim Khardasian...minus the sex tape, sham marriage and total lack of morals.
I do think skinny jeans will have a positive impact on society as a whole...I think they will help cut down on unwanted pregnancies, curb STD rates and decrease the incidence of one night stands...and here is why; while they may look sexy, they are friggin impossible to get off!! You have to literally peel them off of your body and not in a sexy, come hither kind of way. More like peeling off wet jeans while trying to keep your balance, contorting into weird positions as every belly and back roll is exposed only to get the jeans stuck around your ankles as you trip over them. Not sexy.
So, while I did have a great time with my friends that night, the skinny jeans were an epic fail. I did feel like I was trying too hard to look like a younger, hipper version of myself. So I will still keep accepting the invites but I think I am going to stick with my boot cut jeans...
SKINNY JEANS!!! Of course, that is what all the cool kids are wearing!! Sara has 2 pairs for Christ' s sake. She is 5 and trendier than me. I have lost a decent amount of weight this past year (31.6 pounds if you are curious...YAY me!!) and my friend was just telling me it was time to buy new pants. She was sick of seeing my underwear hang out of my jeans. I tried to tell her that jeans halfway down your ass were all the rage but then she reminded me that I am not an adolescent boy and that the trend also included colorful boxers and not flowery Hanes her Way undies. Point taken...off I went to get some new jeans. How hard could this be? Ha- Ha...it took me 3 stores and about 12 pairs of skinny jeans until I found the pair I bought. I ended up in the dressing room at Old Navy surrounded by all kinds of skinny jeans "the Diva", "the Flirt", "the Sweetheart"... these were the actual names of the jeans. I did have 2 very helpful teenagers helping me...oh and Sara. So the 3 girls get together and decide on a pair for me. They are called...are you ready for this?..."rock star super skinny jeans"...I sh*t you not...that is even embroidered on the inside of the jeans...lest you forget you are a rock star. I, for the record, am not a rock star but again, I threw caution to the wind and bought them. I think the Old Navy girls play a little game amongst themselves when a woman of a particular age comes in and wants to buy something cool...the salesperson that convinces them to buy the most ridiculous, age IN-appropriate piece of clothing wins. And the winner is...Ashley. She had me at, "anyone can wear skinny jeans...they make everybody look good...and they are so in style right now"...SOLD!!
I come home and try them on...it is the first time Chuck is speechless. Is that a good speechless like his wife is such a super hot rock star that he has no words? Or is a bad speechless like Oh My God his wife looks ridiculous and he doesn't know how to convey that in a delicate way without crushing his wife's self esteem? All he did finally manage to say was he wasn't used to seeing me in such tight pants. Hmm...not sure how to take that but I forged on with my plan. Skinny jeans are all the rage. Society can't be wrong. Right?
So Friday night comes and I get changed at work. I have the jeans on, a black turtle neck with a chunky necklace and of course some black boots. I dug out my super cute and ridiculously uncomfortable black boots which I may have mentioned in an earlier post. You can not wear skinny jeans without boots, at least that is what the Old Navy teens told me.
I am driving the hour and a half to the bar and I am all excited to be out on a Friday night. I am singing along with the radio...I am really getting into it...it was like I was putting on a live concert for the imaginary people in the car. Then it hits me. I have been singing along to a CD I made years ago. The updated version of a mix tape if you will. Sadly, the mix includes Chicago, James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt...Linda effing Ronstadt!! Oh My GOD!!! I am not fighting the good fight! I am a middle aged woman trying to relive a little bit of her glory days!! It was 5:30 in the evening and I was drinking a coffee to give myself a little extra "pep". WTF? I just said "pep" old people say that!! Am I am going to be the old lady at the bar trying a little too hard to fit in all the while drinking a glass of Chardonnay? I remember seeing her back in my fake ID days...back at the Spaghetti Club in Cambridge. Am I her? I turn the radio down and take stock of the situation. OK, for the record I don't look 40. At least I don't think I do. The pants were a bit tight and hot...kind of felt like I had old fashioned long johns on. But damn it...I think I look OK. I am not her! 40 is the new 20. Screw that! I am going to walk into that bar with my head held high.
I get to the bar and meet up with the old crew. Since I had a long drive back I was not drinking alcohol. So for better or worse I had all my faculties in place all night. I think it may have been for worse. As the night went on the music was getting louder and annoying as all hell. I literally had to yell to have a conversation with the girl right next to me. As my friend said everyone in there was about 6 years old. OK, MAYBE 21. The bar was in a college town so I am pretty confident in saying many of them were there with their fake ID's. So in all likelihood I was at least 20 years older than the majority of the crowd. But man I was rocking the skinny jeans (in my head anyway). In reality they were way too tight and man they were hot! They did make my legs look tiny but every time I sat on the bar stool I could feel them slip down, fear not though, my mommy undies were half way up my back so thankfully I was not rocking the plumber's crack. Speaking of my ass...I really don't have one to speak of... at least not in the right place. If you have been following my blog from the beginning you may remember that I have a "skin apron" or a front bum. If I could have spun my lower half around like you can a Barbie doll I would have worn the sh*t out of those jeans. You see, my real backside is flat, but the skinny jeans compacted my front bum into this nice, tight rounded sphere....if, like I said my bottom half could have been in reverse I would have been the suburban mom's answer to Kim Khardasian...minus the sex tape, sham marriage and total lack of morals.
I do think skinny jeans will have a positive impact on society as a whole...I think they will help cut down on unwanted pregnancies, curb STD rates and decrease the incidence of one night stands...and here is why; while they may look sexy, they are friggin impossible to get off!! You have to literally peel them off of your body and not in a sexy, come hither kind of way. More like peeling off wet jeans while trying to keep your balance, contorting into weird positions as every belly and back roll is exposed only to get the jeans stuck around your ankles as you trip over them. Not sexy.
So, while I did have a great time with my friends that night, the skinny jeans were an epic fail. I did feel like I was trying too hard to look like a younger, hipper version of myself. So I will still keep accepting the invites but I think I am going to stick with my boot cut jeans...
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