Sunday, March 28, 2010

If Whales Could Talk....

I have decided that being pregnant is the most fun thing I've ever done.

It's so cool...I can push on my tummy, and my little son pushes back. Last night the hubby ran a flashlight along my belly, and he kept kicking at it whenever it stopped.

I'm never alone anymore, and that's kind of comforting. And most of all, I'm loving the curves.
I don't have to worry about "does this top make me look fat" or "do these jeans make my butt look big" cos, frankly, yeah, I am fat and my butt is big....what of it?! How cool is THIS??!!!

Ah, but really, I can't disguise that the real reason I'm so happy is cos I'm just uber excited to have a kid. I've always wanted kids. They poop and throw up on you, they throw tantrums and are a real pain in the butt sometimes. But I've always wanted one of my very own.

Come this summer I may wanna give him back just for a good night's sleep....but meh, truthfully I'm looking forward to it. They grow so fast, and get all....grown up and cranky. I'm looking forward to the teeny tiny, drooly whiney newborn.

Which, may or may not be worth being fat in the dead of summer. I haven't decided yet. ;-)

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

So far, delightfully unproductive.

Well, the better half and I are on vacation this week. Spring break in our neck of the woods, which means he doesn't have school and it was a perfect time to spend an entire week getting so much of each other we'll be sick of each other and ready to go back to work.

Eh. Or maybe we'll find out we actually like each other way more than we originally thought. Who's to say.

I woke up dreadfully early this morning, dreadfully early considering it's now quarter-past 3 in the afternoon and I still have heaps to do and I'm still in my pajamas.

I have, however, successfully: Driven to Starbucks and had a half-decaf americano, made, ate, and cleaned up breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, straightened up the living room, started bread dough for a late lunch, and now re-formatted my blog. Oh, oh, and I answered the door when the Fed-X lady showed up. She was kind of rude. But I wouldn't want her job, so I guess I don't blame her.

I think I'm gonna go shower and try to do something clean my fridge....or clean out a cupboard or two (under my sink in particular is quite a tornado zone). I won't push it though....seeing as now I can successfully add to my 'done list' the fact I have now, wether worthwhile or not, updated my not-so-daily blog.

ahem. And there you go. Toodaloo, my friends.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

A Grain of Salt, or a Truckload.

I often have to wonder how the miracle of pushing a baby through your hoo-hoo can suddenly transform any normal woman into a registered expert on the subject of childhood.

Now, don't get me wrong, when I say this I'm not trying to imply that some women who have parented children and had remarkably fulfilling experiences don't deserve the right to spread a thinly applied layer of useful advice to other somewhat eager-to-learn mothers. No, in fact many of these women who have somehow miraculously flitter through mommyhood without a hitch, we're downright tempted to get down on our hands and knees and beg her for a mere tidbit of a clue to what she may have done so 'right'.

I am instead referring to the Hey-Let-Me-Interject-My-Personal-Views-and-Parenting-Ideas-on-You-Poor-Defenseless-Parent- kind of crazyass mother.

Yes, we've all met one. The people who, frankly, usually did a semi-unimpressive job of keeping their filthy brats in one piece and , and yet feel that they are worthy of instructing you on the proper way to get your bouncing baby to suckle more efficiently at the breast. It's ridiculous.
Infuriating. And sometimes downright tiring, forcing yourself to pleasantly accept the way they speak to you.

To speak in general terms, since the day I got two lines on my pregnancy test, I have been hearing oppressive (and admittedly sometimes helpful interjections) on how to get my kids to vegetables, to sleep through the night, and to keep their clothes on during the 'naked-stage'.

To speak specifically, I had the pleasure of meeting one such a gem of a veteran mother while at work the other day. She informed me, not only of what a few 'good names' were for my unborn child, (yes, she really gave me her daughter's name and what she wish she had named her son....???!)but also berated me on the importance of raising a child in religion and frequent habitual reading.

Well, why didn't she remind me to change their diapers intermittently and to feed them when they cry?

ugh. Some people. My favorite of all, was the intensity with which she finished her ramble....she (and I quote!) "No matter what, don't let anyone at this job ever tell you that you need to come back to work. There is no greater job than a mother can do in her life than raise her children. No matter what they pay you, no job can pay you enough to give up that life at home with your child. It isn't worth it. "

Heh. Now, this is right about the time I wanted to chuck my stapler at the witch's head.
You'll be pleased to know (or perhaps disappointed) that instead, I smiled, tilted my head and waited until she left the office before rolling my eyes and thanking God that my very own dear mother raised me to respect my elders and to live in patience.

And that, might I add, is a little well received advice.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Should I stay or should I go now.....

Ah, so I lost an hour of my day today, which I shouldn't be particularly bummed about considering all I really did was miss out on an extra hour of housework- but meh, just the same I had to whine a bit.

What I really want to whine about is my newest addiction. Starbucks.
How I can justify a 20oz, calorie packed, sugar bomb that only costs me $4 is beyond me....maybe it's the fact I'm pregnant and I get what I want, or it's the fact that I don't smoke, don't drink, and don't do nearly anything remotely resembling my past life - so why NOT curl up with a creamy decaf treat once in a while.

The real problem is that I am sitting here in my pajamas, pondering on whether it's worth it to run around the corner and get said javariffic decadence. I mean....I have to put on shoes....I have to pause the DVR....I have to put on a bra......But my breadmaker is being far too slow with my cranberry lemon bread, and I don't even have a coffeemaker since last fall....and I don't want juice...and I really need to shower but no one will see me go through the drive through, right?

*sigh* I hate time change.