First, my dad wanted me to let everyone know that he and my mom have been happily married for almost 30 years and that my previous post on Mel Gibson was not in any way related to my family. I think Mel Gibson is a tool, but not because anything similar happened to me!
Today was my last day at work before starting maternity leave. Officially I am off for twelve weeks. Unofficially, I don't know for sure what I'm going to do. I'm relieved to be finished with work; at this point I consider it a success if I have the energy to take a shower, let alone make myself presentable enough for an office.
Yesterday I was talking to some co-workers and one of them asked me if I was dying to know if the baby is a boy or girl. Of course I'm curious and I think about it, but really pondering the question made me realize I'm actually much more interested in something else. I'm really excited to see if the baby is bald or not. That's what I think about, if I'll have a little bald-headed baby. I sort of hope so, because I think bald babies are adorable.
Sorry this point is so disjointed but it's 10 PM which is well past my bedtime of immediately after work (I'm lots of fun these days). Kent is home on Monday so cross your fingers that I make it through the weekend without going into labor!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
O Mel
Dear Mel Gibson,
While reading my favorite gossip rag today I saw that allegedly your 39-year-old Russian girlfriend is expecting your eighth child. Wow! That's really something. I'm sure that your other seven kids are thrilled that you and their mother split up and they get to have a new baby brother or sister! I would sure be happy about that if I were one of them.
But I need some clarification on something. Forgive me for my confusion, but I also read that you and your wife are divorcing. Now my understanding is that Catholics aren't allowed to divorce. Strictly speaking, you have to get an annullment which means you were never married and now your seven other kids are (and excuse me for being indelicate) bastards. Maybe you're wondering why I care. Well frankly I guess I really don't. Mostly I'm just embarrassed for your ex-wife and kids. I know how I would feel if I split up for my husband and then saw him out and about with a pregnant girlfriend. And even moreso I can imagine how cruddy it would feel, as a grown woman, if my dad knocked up his much younger girlfriend. For heaven's sake, you're 53. Your oldest child is 28! Basically that means your oldest child could easily be this baby's parent.
I'd like to make a few suggestions. First of all, stop spouting about being Catholic. I'm pretty sure the Catholic church isn't very impressed with you at this point. Second, why don't you have a little respect for your family and keep it in your pants.
I hope you will consider my suggestions.
With absolutely no respect for you whatsoever (or any man that behaves the same way),
Maggie
While reading my favorite gossip rag today I saw that allegedly your 39-year-old Russian girlfriend is expecting your eighth child. Wow! That's really something. I'm sure that your other seven kids are thrilled that you and their mother split up and they get to have a new baby brother or sister! I would sure be happy about that if I were one of them.
But I need some clarification on something. Forgive me for my confusion, but I also read that you and your wife are divorcing. Now my understanding is that Catholics aren't allowed to divorce. Strictly speaking, you have to get an annullment which means you were never married and now your seven other kids are (and excuse me for being indelicate) bastards. Maybe you're wondering why I care. Well frankly I guess I really don't. Mostly I'm just embarrassed for your ex-wife and kids. I know how I would feel if I split up for my husband and then saw him out and about with a pregnant girlfriend. And even moreso I can imagine how cruddy it would feel, as a grown woman, if my dad knocked up his much younger girlfriend. For heaven's sake, you're 53. Your oldest child is 28! Basically that means your oldest child could easily be this baby's parent.
I'd like to make a few suggestions. First of all, stop spouting about being Catholic. I'm pretty sure the Catholic church isn't very impressed with you at this point. Second, why don't you have a little respect for your family and keep it in your pants.
I hope you will consider my suggestions.
With absolutely no respect for you whatsoever (or any man that behaves the same way),
Maggie
Monday, April 20, 2009
Today
Do you know where you were exactly ten years ago? Who you were with? What you were doing?
I do.
I do.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Candyland
We have a bowl of candy at the reception desk at work. We fill it with very good candy, if I do say so myself. Butterfingers, Reese's, M & Ms and other stuff. I rarely eat it myself since I don't have much of a sweet tooth. If I do take some I just take it, I don't think that the person at the front desk wants any explanation at all. I know when I'm working the front desk the last thing I want is a story about why you're eating candy. I'm not your mom. Pick something out and go away.
However, not everyone shares my feelings. Most people are pretty good about picking out something and going on their merry way. But one of my coworkers (co-irker?) wants to give me a treatise (not entirely an accurate word since it's oral not written...but cut me a break ok?) about why she's taking a piece of candy, how she needs a piece of candy, how she is DYING because she is so tired and needs the sugar. Some days it's all I can do to bite my tongue and not say, "How about this? I don't remotely give a shit."
Can you tell who was just up at the front desk with me?
However, not everyone shares my feelings. Most people are pretty good about picking out something and going on their merry way. But one of my coworkers (co-irker?) wants to give me a treatise (not entirely an accurate word since it's oral not written...but cut me a break ok?) about why she's taking a piece of candy, how she needs a piece of candy, how she is DYING because she is so tired and needs the sugar. Some days it's all I can do to bite my tongue and not say, "How about this? I don't remotely give a shit."
Can you tell who was just up at the front desk with me?
I guess I shouldn't feel so self-concious
See, two posts in two days. The new blog layout is already making a difference. On Wednesday I went to my midwife for my bi-weekly check up. She asked me standard questions about Braxton-Hicks contractions, how I'm sleeping and if I'm experiencing any swelling in my hands and feet.
Me: Yeah, I have a little swelling in my hands and feet. Nothing terrible but bad enough that it's a little uncomfortable to wear my rings. I take them off at work but put them on when I go anywhere so I don't look like a shameless hussy.
Jules: Oh don't feel bad, I think about 75% of our clients could be put into that category. Today I had an 18 year old that was on the phone with her boyfriend during her exam. I asked what he was doing and why he wasn't with her and she told me that he couldn't make it because he was in prison.
Me: ::Long pause:: So, did she mention why?
Jules: No. But I really wanted to ask.
And then I laughed. Because if it were me, I'm not so sure I'd be very forthcoming about that information. Luckily for me I'll never be in that situation because I'm completely confident that Kent's never going to prison. Also, I will wear my rings even if my finger turns purple and falls off (that would really solve the problem).
Me: Yeah, I have a little swelling in my hands and feet. Nothing terrible but bad enough that it's a little uncomfortable to wear my rings. I take them off at work but put them on when I go anywhere so I don't look like a shameless hussy.
Jules: Oh don't feel bad, I think about 75% of our clients could be put into that category. Today I had an 18 year old that was on the phone with her boyfriend during her exam. I asked what he was doing and why he wasn't with her and she told me that he couldn't make it because he was in prison.
Me: ::Long pause:: So, did she mention why?
Jules: No. But I really wanted to ask.
And then I laughed. Because if it were me, I'm not so sure I'd be very forthcoming about that information. Luckily for me I'll never be in that situation because I'm completely confident that Kent's never going to prison. Also, I will wear my rings even if my finger turns purple and falls off (that would really solve the problem).
Thursday, April 9, 2009
***
So brace yourself. This is going to be a long one and it's going to be a lot of baby stuff. Consider yourself warned.
First, here I am at 32 weeks:
First, here I am at 32 weeks:
No, I don't know if it's a boy or girl. Yes, I'm sure it's only one. No, I'm not ready for it to be born yet. (Those are the same questions I get over and over. I really love when people ask if I'm having twins. Seriously, I'm big but I'm not THAT big.)
Yesterday I went to the doctor and I've gained 24 pounds. Honestly I was hoping that would be the total I would gain but given that I've eaten pretty much whatever I want and I haven't done more than walk to back and forth to my car I guess that's not bad. I started the pregnancy with fatigue that never really went away. I felt a little more energetic in my second trimester, just like all the baby books promised, but only in comparison to how I felt in my first trimester. Now I'm tired all the time again. Oh well, it could be worse.
Today I was watching "A Baby Story" at lunch. Normally I detest this show but it was preferable to watching Kathie Lee and Hoda play some stupid Easter game. Anyway, the woman was having a ten-pound baby and was measuring 51 inches around. Since I have no life I thought it would be interesting to see what I measure. I'm at 39 inches. Of course, I had to congratulate myself on not being 51 inches and ALSO on not having any stretch marks. Then, because I think I was getting too smug, I went to the bathroom and saw what look to be baby stretch marks on my hips. Damn.
I have one final piece of baby news and then maybe I can start posting funny stuff again (maybe, no promises). My due date is May 30 and the baby will be here no later then June 1 or June 2. Here's the story. Kent is taking leave on May 25 and has to be back at work on June 6. He also gets 10 days of paternity leave but he won't be able to take that until July probably. Since I have a very understand midwife she's agreed I can be induced right after my due date even though the practice prefer to not induce before 41 weeks, 6 days. It's really a bummer, I SO do not want to have to be induced but even more I want Kent here when the baby comes. Maybe you can all send me positive energy for the baby to be born sometime between May 26 and May 30. Any earlier and Kent might miss it.
You might notice that I changed my blog layout. For some reason my blogging dropped precipitously right after I changed my template so changing it again might mean more blogging. Anyway, it can't hurt.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The baby stole my funny
There is an old wive's tale that baby girls will steal their mothers' beauty while in utero. I don't think I'm any less pretty but I do think the baby has stole my wit, humor and intelligence, leaving me basically stupid. I thought pregnancy brain was just an excuse to act like a dingbat but I am beginning to think it may actually be true. For example: I drive a black Prius. My parents have covered parking at their house but it's all reserved. Their neighbor moved and I routinely parked in her empty spot. One day I drove into their parking lot and prepared to take my normal space. I was confused to see a Prius already parked there. I couldn't figure out how my car was already there. It took several seconds before I realized that I was in my car and that there was apparently another Prius driver somewhere in the world. It would be slightly (ever so slightly) less embarrassing if that Prius was black too, but in fact it was dark gray. I certainly felt very stupid and am happy to now share this story with you for your amusement.
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