Woohoo! (Continued…)

I know you all have been waiting with bated breath for me to post the seven little tidbits about myself and never fear, I have emerged from the pee-a-thon that has been this entire weekend thus far, and will do so now! Hooray! I had a little trouble finding things to say about myself, as I am not really sure what is noteworthy, so if this sucks, well…it is five minutes of your life you will never get back. Sorry.

1. I never wanted kids. I think you probably know, if you have been reading this blog for any length of time, that I never wanted kids. It could be a little obvious by the title and tagline of this blog. It is no joke, dear readers. I am not a huge fan of kids. I have, however, happened to find one of the best, most beautiful, kind, amazing men on the planet and he, as I am sure you can imagine, has always wanted to procreate. And I have to say, despite the fact that it has never been an ambition of mine, I am quite flattered that he thinks highly enough of me to want to make little miniatures together. As much of a blow as this pregnancy has been to me, I am comforted every day at the idea of creating someone who will be half him. I can’t think of anyone better to make a person with. So day by day, I am coming around to the idea of raising a child. And not without the help of someone who means everything to me. (I am having a really sappy day. Pardon.)

2. I have another blog. And I am cheating on it. I have had my other blog since (I think) 2004 and, really, I had a lot of fun with it for the first few years and then realizing that (gasp!) I was growing up and no longer spent most of my time playing beer pong and watching people fall down (or stealing giant, stuffed tigers and running down busy streets in the middle of the night), it became sort of just a place to go to re-read all of my past adventures. I tried to continue it, but I think we have gone our seperate ways.

3. I was once in a car accident wherein I was hit by a dead guy. True story. I didn’t know he was dead at the time, and wasn’t, I guess, at the start of the whole thing, but in the end, as it turned out, he had shot himself in the head before hitting me with his (stolen) car. I wrote about it here. And yes, it is insane. And no, I couldn’t make it up if I tried. Turns out he was a murderer who had just gotten out of jail in New York, shot someone else, stolen a vehicle, driven to Florida and hit me on my way back from Starbucks. (This may or may not be a sign that Starbucks is the devil.)

4. I am sort of a real-life Scrooge. I don’t like Christmas. Like, at all. It is also my birthday and the anniversary of my Grandmother’s death. She was my favorite person in the world. Ever. That is all.

5. I hate Phil Collins. My SERIOUSLY quirky friend told me once, about 12 years ago, that I would think of Phil Collins every day for the rest of my life. I thought that there was no way that this could be true. But it is. Phil Collins is everywhere. Sometimes, if I forget to turn the TV off before I fall asleep, I will wake up in the middle of the night to see his giant head staring at me from the screen. Pure. Hatred.

6. I once had to actually “quit” gummy bears. I am really not sure what it is with me and gummy bears. I really just effing love them. I will eat them until I vomit. Which is disgusting. I once bought a giant bag at a grocery store before going to the movies to see “American Psycho” and ate the whole bag and then puked for ten minutes in the movie theater parking lot. (I am a classy broad.) That said, there is no reason for me to explain any further why “quitting” was necessary. I think that I have this under control.

7. I really want to become and extreme couponer. Yes, I am aware that these people might be a little…wel…insane. But I am also aware that if I could learn how to be this kind of insane, I may never have to work again. And this would leave me a lot more free time for hating Phil Collins and eating gummy bears. And, oh yeah, I guess raising this kid.

There you have it, you guys. That’s me! I have a 100 Things list over here, if you want to check it out. It is a little out of date but…you know…things change daily around here!



Woohoo! (Now With Added Ooomph.)

So, my lovely sister, *Fish Head informed me the other day that I had been honored with another blog award from my bloggie friend over at The Waiting! (I can’t tell you how much I love this news!)

I am truly honored that people like this blog as much as I have enjoyed writing here! Woohoo! Non-alcoholic drinks for everyone! (Ugggggghhhh…Someday, I will no longer be pregnant and there will be champagne. And delicious beers. And maybe some vodka. Because…well…I am sure I will be ready for some vodka by that time.)

In turn, I would like to go ahead and recognize some of the bloggers I enjoy for their awesomeness and share them with you. (It is of note that I was instructed to post 15 blogs that I like, but I am only going to do ten  five because I am pregnant and peeing is going to have to happen about 37 times during the time it takes me to write this. And 37 is my limit.) Anyway, here goes (in no particular order, and please know that if you are not on this list, it is because of my bladder, not because I don’t like you.)

1.  The Bloggess. Oh my GOD, you guys. I love this blog. I love this blog so much that I read it even though it makes me have to pee more. And harder. And with more intensity. And possibly ON MYSELF. Please read this post! It makes me happy. (You may want to wear a diaper, though.)

2. Painting Chef. This is a seriously smart, witty and adorable lady who cooks and paints and is obsessed with shoes. What’s not to like? And she’s super snarky! I dig it!

3. Hyperbole and a Half. Okay, so I totally ACCIDENTALLY stumbled upon this blog a while back and I laughed so hard at this post that I cried. Because spiders are terrifying and I can totally identify.

4. This Fish Needs a Bicycle. I have been reading this blog since I learned how to read blogs.

5. And Baby Makes Three. YAY! Another pregnant lady! In Germany!

Goodness. I had to cut that short because I have already peed 36 times and am dangerously close to the limit. Either way, part two of this post (wherein I will give you seven little known facts about yours truly) will follow! (Hopefully tomorrow. But this depends on whether or not I can break myself away from my bathroom for long enough to post again.)

* I call my sister Fish Head because of a little film called “Mermaids” starring Cher, Winona Ryder and Christina Ricci. And yes, she calls me Sergeant.


Just for the record, I feel bad that I did not add this blog to this list. I cannot let this slide. SHAME ON ME.  Go here. She is funnier than your grandma. I swear.


The Facebook announcement wasn’t as traumatic as I had expected. I did get a lot of support from my friends and family and it was welcomed and appreciated and I feel so much lighter. SO MUCH LIGHTER. Only one person from work, evidently, saw the post and responded and has mentioned it to me today. I am quite sure that there are others who know but have not said anything yet, which is annoying but sort of a relief. I just want to know that everyone knows and has gotten all the talk out of their systems so we can all move on. Many of my good friends (in fact, almost all of them) have kids already, so they have already proven to be a good resource for me. But I will tell you, I sort of feel, with the influx of all the advice, that my head might explode at any moment. How am I supposed to remember the names of all the contraptions that are a waste of money, or the ones that are baby must-haves? I could write these things down, I suppose, but I am so overwhelmed with the whole thing that I can’t manage to think fast enough to do that. And then, before I know it, I have forgotten and then find myself in a panic because I don’t know the name of that thing that does stuff that makes the kid sleep for HOURS and I NEED THAT THING. What IS it?!


Aside from my normal state of utter panic, I have been doing pretty well. I have managed to answer phone calls that I know will result in conversations about babies, which, two weeks ago, never would have happened. As it turns out, a good friend of mine is also pregnant right now and has not yet made the announcement, but is due two weeks after my due date. This is awesome for several reasons:

1. She will significantly reduce the amount of freaking out I have to do with regard to what to buy for this kid because she has a little one already and knows what is a necessity and what is a waste of too much money.

2. She will probably understand if I am a complete psychopath for the next few months and will probably still come with me to do a baby registry and stuff so I don’t drive my car off a bridge from the stress of it all.

3. I was really wishing that I had a pregnant friend who could hang out with me and NOT drink wine. And she loves wine as much as I do, so we can be bitter about it together. (I don’t think that she is as bitter as I am because she likes babies more than wine and I am still undecided and I believe that I will be until I hold this little alien and decide which is more rewarding: Pinot Grigio or “the baby smell”? Jury is still out.)

4. I desperately want someone to waddle with when the time comes. Waddling alone just sounds depressing.


I had been feeling little flutters from time to time, but nothing to write home about. In fact, I told My Beloved yesterday (and most days) that this baby needs to DO SOMETHING soon because I just feel fat. I feel hideous and obese and generally GROSS. I feel like all these changes are happening to my body, but so far, no real, hard evidence that it is for any good reason. And I am telling you, that is effing annoying. It has been really hard for me to accept all this extra discomfort (and belly mass) without being somehow rewarded.  But last night, or early this morning rather, I woke up for my 7th trip to the bathroom and returned to bed, half-asleep. I assumed my position, on my stomach, and started to actually feel something. And, this time, it wasn’t just that tiny little flit of something moving about, it was an honest-to-goodness, baby doing backflips kind of feeling and it went on for a good five minutes straight.


I was both excited and terrified about this. At first, I wasn’t sure that I had even felt it at all, or if I had been dreaming the whole thing.

But in the end, I guess the baby heard my request and decided to DO SOMETHING. And I am quite certain that this is an idication that he/she is both obedient and a genius. Oh, and possibly a gymnast.


Now I will await the first kicks, which I am sure will totally freak me out. I might need therapy. Or to call my fellow preggo friend (THANK HEAVENS!!!)


P.S. Speaking of kicks and whatnot, for future reading on the subject, go here!


Unicorns? Gumdrops?

I am just days away from entering my second trimester. Everyone says that once you enter the second trimester of your pregnancy you are all filled with happiness and pure glee at the idea of having a baby because you can finally eat food without barfing five seconds later or falling asleep in your plate of spaghetti (which also, may or may not be covered with chocolate sauce. Just sayin’.) Needless to say, I was super excited to get through the first part of this experience and on to the good part where it is all unicorns and gumdrops and stuff. I desperately wanted to be able to stay awake past 7:30pm and watch an episode of “The Walking Dead” without vomiting on My Beloved. And I desperately wanted to eat something doused in tomato sauce without feeling, only minutes later, as though I had swallowed a fireball.

And I will tell you, I have definitely noticed some changes. I definitely can stay up past 7:30 now. In fact, I will stay up until 10:30. And then I will sleep for 4 hours until my bladder is on the verge of explosion (which is evidently, common) and I wake suddenly just before I get to that part in the “pee dream” where I am actually ON the toilet and starting to go, saving MB from, yet another example of how my body betrays me (and essentially, him) on a daily basis. After I have relieved my bladder, I will return to bed, where my 27 lb cat will insist on sleeping ON.MY.FACE. Because, he has decided, it appears, that he now has to be by my side (or on my face) every waking second of every day. (I think he does not trust me to gestate.) I will, for an hour, try to avoid eating my cat’s tail or being elbowed in the face by my beloved for one hour at which time, I will leave the bedroom and assume my position on the couch. Watching re-runs of “Three’s Company” at 3 in the morning. I will not fall back to sleep before work because I will be starving and making lists of things I will devour tomorrow as soon as it is an acceptable time to start devouring things. I will “wake up” at 5:30 and report to work. Where it is unacceptable to devour things. And where I will be miserable and full of hate for ten straight hours. I will accept that pregnancy takes you from normal to narcolepsy to insomnia in a matter of days and I will contemplate homicide.

I miss sleeping, internet. Does this get better again?

As for the eating. I noticed that, during the first trimester, there weren’t a whole lot of ridiculous cravings or anything. I did not eat peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, as my grandmother did. I did, however, find that McDonald’s McDoubles are the stuff that dreams are made of. (Dreams not of the pee-dream variety, mind you.) I did not, but could have easily eaten several McDoubles, several times a day and felt fine about it. Because I wouldn’t have had to kill anyone. (Note to significant others of pregnant ladies, If the lady says McDouble, FIND A McDOUBLE. For the love of GOD.) I wanted chocolate sometimes, which is unusual but, I guess not too unusual for most people. And if I said, “Sandwich!”…well, MB knew what to do. But mainly, the urgency was because being hungry is very painful when you have a parasite sucking the nutrients out of all of your meals. Seriously. This shit hurts.

Things haven’t yet changed too much. The only real difference that I am starting to notice is that I can eat things that are a little more acidey and I think I might even be able to do the hot sauce thing. I haven’t tried yet, because, I rather like to feel as though I have a normal, content esophagus, but I am gonna do it soon. I just may need a pep-talk.

In the meantime, is it weird that I feel that I might actually need to eat a bratwurst? Like, immediately?