Thursday, October 28, 2010

Those damn two pink lines and uterine terrorists.

I felt pukey this morning, but didn't. I'm just WAITING for the puke to happen, last time it happened from week 9-26 as I recall and I threw up during labor while pushing. (Though, that could have been the strawberry lollipop my big step sis slid me after begging her for food). This is why they tell you not to eat all day on the day you push, because, YOU WILL THROW IT UP. I did.

I've been feeling fine, but wondering when I should let people know. I'm not one of those "YAY! I'm having a baby, everyone celebrate along with me!" Glowing cheeks etc... millions of women do this every day, I'm no different. I just hope for an eventless pregnancy that's all. SO knowing I don't want a big show or make a big deal, it's hard to tell people, especially at work. I'm also not worried about the first trimester rule, I'm a pretty open book (one of my many flaws in life) so if I go through a miscarriage, I don't want it to be some big secret or gossipy thing amongst anyone if I have to miss a few days of work. Hey, I'm preggo, seems like a good way to tell people and of course putting it on FACEBOOK, so the WORLD CAN KNOW. I don't like to give too many personal details on facebook, but this social network is the only reason some family members know Joseph is as cute as he is and Paul and I are still married. So facebook is a good way to get out the message, as uncouth as it may seem to me, to be.

I also haven't had my "second opinion", I mean, all that has confirmed that I AM pregnant is that First Response test and those damn two pink lines. I had my doctor appointment today, apparently since I had my last kid, where you call after your positive test result and the nurse says "congratulations, we'll see you in eight weeks" Isn't the case anymore, they want to see you right away to get you information, bill your insurance, make a profit and fund those bigger hospitals that will mostly likely still have hot water issues in their post partum units. Nothing makes a woman, who has just squeezed out a baby, more crazy, than a dreamy lustful hot shower (alone) after the whole labor and delivery process and then to find out hot water is not available.

At the doc's office today, I peed in a cup and FORGOT to write my name on the cup label BEFORE I peed (again) and must remember next time to write my name on my pee cup label before I put in my steaming sample, nothing is more awkward than trying to scrawl your name on a label whilst tenderly holding a cup that could spill over at any moment and I'd be dealing with, well, a mess of piss and no one wants that.

Write on the pee cup label BEFORE, you pee in it, yes before. Logged.

So they also took my blood and my doctor did a pelvic check, what a lunch break people! I showed up, got my weight checked, peed in a cup, they took my blood (and not in the cool sexy vampire way) and did a pelvic exam.. now if only I got a free drink with that combo meal, I might have felt like it was a good deal. But NO ONE told me I was pregnant. I mean, the doctor or the nurse never said "well, you were right, you are knocked up!" No one CONFIRMED it, so I sit here and wonder if I just missed my period because of all the stress at work and those two pink lines (that I took two times) are an indication of some scary cancer disease that produces the same hormone you produce when pregnant that gives you a positive result, and my news is not that I'm carrying my second offspring, but that I'm harboring a uterine terrorist.

A uterine terrorist that could be withholding information on WMDs. Then, my doc, (whom I totally love btw and my female visits are always filled with chuckles and jokes) says "you've put on weight since last I saw you"... I like to think of myself as pretty laid back about a lot of female issues (though my husband who watches me stare at myself every morning and grab my muffin top fat and say nasty things to myself as well as give myself the evil eye over all my cellulite and millions of imperfections, would disagree) I take my Doc's comment in stride and tell her I've been running a TON and when she hears that, she is slightly concerned that I'm not skinner than I am, and they are checking out my thyroid.

I explain that I continue to eat like total shit and am basically a garbage disposal for anything with strong family ties to chocolate, but still she wants to check my thyroid. So now I have:

1) A Uterine Terrorist, possibly hiding WMDs
2) A thyroid disorder that is keeping me fat.

When really:
1) I'm knocked up
2) I'm just a fatty. I've hit the big 3-0 and I no longer care. I'm married and like to drink and don't mind over-indulging at least twice a day.

Monday, October 25, 2010

There's junk in the trunk, if my ass was my front.

Knocked Up.
Bun in the oven.
Pea in the pod.
A bump in the front.
Up the duff.

However you say it, it means I get to stop sucking in my gut for at least 9 months and let whatever hang out, hang out. I have a legit excuse. Hopefully though, I won't "look" preggers until at least 5 months, I mean, two months along and people start asking? I should have re-thought that third boston creme donut from Dunkin' (and by third, I mean fifth).

I don't care how much you plan for a baby, it still comes as a "shock" or "surprise" when that test comes back with two lines instead of one. "Test results are visible after 3 minutes". Bullshit. They are visible right away, you can see that first little pink line start appearing as soon as you've run out of pee. How gross is that test? Of course I put the cap back on the stick part after I've peed on it, but that cap goes on and you can see the wet stick and the condensation on the cap, it is so gross. TMI I know, but these are the things that freak me out. C'mon.

For me, or rather us, (there was definitely two in this tango), this is our second and I feel more confident about what I'm in for this time. I had planned a summer baby for the second time around. Why? What is my logic in this seemingly planned and thought out..plan? I want to have a pool party for a birthday party and inflatables outside in the sun. Yes, my whole reason behind a summer baby, better parties. Go on, judge me, but I know you'd rather go to a pool party then get on your six layers and walk out in the snow to arrive at some enclosed gymnasium and enjoy some claustrophobic fun with ten 3 year olds in a crammed party facility. I would. Plus, who doesn't like the idea of pina coladas at a baby birthday party in the sunshine? NOT I.

I sit here, with all the world's thoughts streaming at warp speed through my mind, what was I thinking? How can we afford another one? What am I going to do with work? My first one is so awesome, how can the second one compare? I hope I havent' screwed it up by having another one..... Will my first one freak out? Do they have cute bathing suits for heavily pregnant women who don't want to look like houses in their 8th month? Am I going to get fatter than before? Am I really pregnant? Has it really only been a few weeks without a drink, how much longer again? My boobs hurt, how much bigger are they going to get? How long can I hide this at work before I have to start wearing a sign or an arrow pointed at my belly "I have the golden ticket". (Best white trash pregnancy top ever, thank you Britney Spears). When should I tell my boss? When should I tell my employees?

Most importantly, when does the puking start? I am anticipating this one, and not looking forward to the sleepless nights and hung over feeling at work, it leaves me with.

All of these are pretty lame worries I know, I do have more substantial worries and fears, but I usually override those with my immature brain and focus on where I can start a new registry and the quickest cheapest way to get deals and freebies for newly pregnant parents.

I wonder when I can pull the preggo card for the first time, knowing that I have at least a full hand of these cards, I don't want to hand them all out at once, but rather hold on to them for desperate moments, or in my case, exceptionally lazy moments when I'd rather not move in comparison to doing anything else.

Whatever we have it is going to be a surprise. Much to the dismayal of my friends and family, I don't want to find out, until it is OUT. Yes, we are screwed if we have a girl, but I can always buy clothes later. Joseph wants a baby brother and he is going to name him "Plex". Of course he is. I do find this very cool of him though, because he just LOVES Plex and anything that he would bestow that name upon or associate it with is coolness, so this to me means that Joseph is excited and has already decided that his baby brother is going to be cool. If it's a girl, I don't know what he'll say.

I look forward to blogging about all the weird and wonderful things that pregnancy and post pregnancy does to my brain and how I have a legit excuse for these crazy thoughts. Legit? Well, at least an excuse. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

3 weeks down, only 37 more to go. Go Team Baby P!

Monday, October 18, 2010

I like Kung Fu.

I like Kung Fu, I like it a lot more than anyone realizes. I used to have "Kung Fu Friday's" and watch Kung Fu movies (all of course in Mandarin Chinese with only English subtitles on). If you are going to be a good young grasshopper, to get the true meaning of Kung Fu movies one can only watch and listen in true Mandarin, but in turn, through training, you will hear the meaning. (Yes, that was my deepest Kung Fu Master impression..., you're welcome). The part in "Office Space" which is rather like a documentary than a movie, where Jennifer Aniston says she likes Kung Fu, I was pissed, because I LIKE KUNG FU. Nobody THAT cute likes Kung Fu, chicks about my average looks like Kung fu, don't ruin it for the rest of us, Brad dumped you, so don't get ahead of yourself there sweety.

I want to reinstate Kung Fu Fridays. I don't walk around with nunchucks or keep a ridiculously long sword above my mantle that I would have no idea how to use, unless my intention was to wield it mercilessly around the room while I destroyed everything within my wingspan. Nor do I have a Kimono (I know it's Japanese) or have a black belt in anything (other than kicking your mom's ass). But I like Kung Fu and I have skillz, but none that gangs want me for.

I LOVE fight scenes, especially lengthy, extended, multiple angle, slow mo fight scenes. I love things that go BOOM in the night, which probably explains my absolute giddy enjoyment at the thought of watching ANY of the "Die Hard" movies. But I like Kung Fu fight scenes. These are violent and lengthy, not ever a lot of blood, but a lot of kicking arse. It is over love, respect and honor. It's outcome is to learn a lesson in life and meaning, put perspective on what is important and to achieve a goal. Kung Fu movies are deep, but still kick a lot of arse.

There (thankfully for you) isn't a lot more to SAY about Kung Fu movies, they are a different breed of cinematic entertainment and I miss my Friday's that involved them. What have I been doing on Friday's where I haven't had time to watch a Kung Fu movie? Who knows, I'm not even sure what I had for lunch today... But like any young grasshopper that has lost her way, she will return to her master and redeem herself in his eyes and bow down before the century old techniques that once led her to the wise and elegant ways of Kung Fu, young grasshopper will redeem her family's honor and return to Kung Fu movies on Friday's.

"Like many things - I am nothing" - Li Mu Bai.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Deep Thoughts by Rebecca L. Price... while running.

What in the hell do runners think about while running? Especially those long runs? I often credit myself with not liking to let my thoughts run wild because I am not sure where they will lead me, but even as I try to distract my mind with the occasional Lady Ga Ga and some ACDC I still find myself drifting away in thought, whilst simultaneously trying to push myself to keep going.

Here is what I think about whilst running, again, Deep Thoughts by Rebecca L. Price:

1) Hills eternally suck. I'm told by people "they get better with time and practice" I don't care, I could be a satisfied running never having to run at any kind of inclining angle ever again.

2) The sky is beautiful. It was pink and purple the other night, it was quite brilliant and usually is, even if it is raining on me, the sky is magnificient. I also wonder, how in the hell people once thought the world is flat? It definitely CURVES at the horizon. Maybe it's just because I KNOW that now though.

3) If you're going to spit, do it in people's "bonus yard". That's the yard that is closest to the curb, separated by usually the sidewalk. The bonus yard is the part of the yard that homeowners begrudgingly keep mowed because of homeowners association, but do nothing other than hold trash cans once a week and provide permanent placment for mailboxes. I've found that homeowners give you less of a shirty look if you spit or hock a loogey in that direction, versus the direction of their prized 30 year mortgage payment or carefully manicured yard.

4) Running is NOT for the self conscious. I look my worst when running, I'm sure, my face winces in pain as I climb that hill in micro stride all bent over, the sweat makes my hair curl up around my face, the sweat, all the bugs that stick to my neck and chest as I run... And there's nothing like looking at your shadow and seeing your thighs flap in the wind. Fashionistas say black makes you look skinnier, considering my shadow is ALL BLACK, couldn't my shadow at least pretend?!?!?

5) Kids laugh at you. Wondering why the hell you are running and all sweaty, adults are so weird. Don't worry little child, let me know how almost 30 is treating you in twenty years, maybe you've just entirely let yourself go watching another spin off of Tyler Brown's something or other and his cross dressing phenomenon.

6) Am I going to make it? Every. Single. Run. I think this. Twenty times.

7) Smile at people on your runs, especially when on foreign turf in another city. When you've finally met your demise as you have long suspected in your head and this run "does finally kill me", you want the elderly passer bys to come back across your cold dead body and feel sympathy and immediately help you as the "friendly young girl who ran passed me and smiled not too long ago" maybe they'll call 911 quicker.

8) ANYONE smoking a cigarette whilst walking outdoors makes me want to vomit whenI run through it. I've just run probably about 6 miles and am on my way home and I run through a cloud of smoke, no I will not turn to vomit in the bonus yard, I will turn to vomit ON YOU.

9) When I see no one around and "Shoot to Thrill" or "back in Black" comes on, I want to just slam on the brakes and break out in air guitar, heavy rock star style, while no one is watching, in the middle of my trail. Then innocently return to my run. No one saw that right?

10) I'm jealous of runners that have a dog as their partner. I'm lucky I MAKE time to fit in a run, how did they get time to train a well behaved dog that doesn't want to constantly cross your path and make you fall on your face? They also probably live in a bigger house. Bastards.

11) The guy that seemlessly passed me at warp speed on my run has probably just started. He isn't on his 7th mile, he's obviously on his first. riiight.

12) ACDC is great to listen to while running.

13) Sports bras are so wonderful.

14) Am I going to make it?

15) The smell of grilling burgers on an afternoon run is just brutal. Totally brutal.

16) How close to I get to passing this person before I look at them and nod my head in acknowledgment? 5 yards? 20 feet? Avoid eye contact until the last minute, you don't want to stare at them like a weirdo, put on your focused runner face and nod and smile just as you pass arms. There, that should do it. Way to bring your social awkwardness into a run. Way to go.

17) Thank god "Bust a Move" just came on, I needed that extra push. Young M.C. you are a godsend.

18) Why did FOX cancel Firefly?

19) I do not want to get up tomorrow and go to work.

20) Am I hungry or is that a cramp? Oh god I hope it isn't a cramp. I'm hungry, no wait... when did I eat last? I should't have had three milky ways from the vending machine. again.

Deep thoughts. Not very.