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Random Saturday Night Rantings

By on December 15, 2012 in The Mommy, The Unexplainable

Let’s talk about how awesome pregnancy is, wanna?

….

Well. That was fun. Good talk, everybody!

Okay, it’s not all dire like that. In the grand scheme of things, anyway. But man. Man oh man oh man. Do I hate being pregnant. (Love LOVE love babies; just hate getting there.)

I’m just in that weird phase between Two-Blue-Lines-Joyful and Obviously-Carrying. Which basically means – as I enter my second trimester – I still have people coming up to me and saying, “Wait.. I just heard you’re pregnant?!” And all I can think is Oh, God – you’ve always thought I was THIS fat? The answer appears to be a resounding YES, and I also have people asking when I’m going to start showing. I thank them for their kindness, but mention that I’m clearly a whale. They always argue that No, I don’t see anything there.

Oh, okay. Guess this giant beer gut is hiding the kid.

Truth be told, I’m fine with putting on weight for the baby, but MAN, it flies in the face of every fat-girl-mentality I’ve tortured myself with for the past five years. And just before I got all knocked up, I had lost a good twelve pounds. I was starting to be proud of my body again. AND NOW I AM A WHALE.

People randomly stroke my belly. At first, I would kindly smile at them and pretend it wasn’t awkward, but now I kind of delight in saying calmly, “You enjoying feeling my chub there? No baby shield happening yet; you’re just groping my fat rolls. But what soft hands you have!” (For what it’s worth, I don’t mind people feeling the baby when I progress to the point that the baby shield is 95% up my stomach. But until then, STOP FEELING MY FAT, Y’ALL.)

We’re finding out the gender soon, and maybe that will spark some interest from me. Right now, I only feel pride or excitement when I hear the heartbeat; every other moment of every single day, I will forget I’m pregnant entirely. I will still crave my early Saturday morning runs, then be saddened I can’t go. I will still peruse the drink section at a restaurant, then resign myself to an unsweet tea instead. (I made the mistake of ordering a virgin daquiri the other day, and MY LORD, what a sad little drink.) I will longingly stare into the windows of a Talbots or a Coldwater Creek before remembering that Oh yeah – too fat now and just going to get fatter.

But maybe knowing a gender will help. Bryan has picked out a girl name and I’ve picked out a boy name, and the middle names are up for grabs. (We are okay with that, mostly because we had agreed on the names ahead of time.) I, obviously, am betting on a boy – the data historically is stacked against a girl, right? – but Bryan seems convinced that it’s a girl. (Or he just knows I enjoy competition.)(And also: I enjoy being RIGHT.) It was fun perusing the Most Unusual Names of 2012 and wondering if we should pick middle names from there. (Mowgli? Espn? Jagger? THE CHOICES, THEY ARE ENDLESS.)

Admittedly, there was a random night some weeks back where I felt flutters as we were falling asleep. That was pretty cool.

But then things like Newtown happen, and I coax Baby Ares to stay in there as long as he sees fit. Because on Friday, I wanted to stay in a fetal position in somewhere dark and warm, too. How do I bring a child into a world like this?

(The answer is: you bring the child in, and you raise him/her well. If everyone did that, maybe – just maybe, as I don’t know the whole story of the shooter’s life, nor do I need to – maybe things like this would happen less often, if not stop altogether.)

Random aside: we watch a lot of America’s Funniest Home Videos in our house – it’s a whole-family affair – and I figure that, if nothing else, at least I’m a better parent than the 50% of Americans who submit videos to this show. What kind of asshole keeps taping as their child half-drowns in a pool or gets continually rammed by a goat? So I’ve got going that for me, even if I am carrying a beer gut baby.

Comments { 5 }

Blah Blah Blah, pt. 574

By on November 7, 2012 in The Unexplainable

Boy, I had a banner week last week, right? Like, TWO posts? I feel my Voice of the Year nod coming in ANY day now.

***

I am kind of in a funk lately. There’s a manifold of reasons why, and not all of them are interesting. However, I have a blog with available bullets, so let me subject you to my minutiae:

  • You know that “blog conference” I go to? That was in New Orleans this year? That I look forward to every year? Yeah, not going. Timing just ended up being not good, and finances needed to be put in a different avenue, and a million other grown-up bummers. It’s just hit me today that I would be heading out tomorrow evening. Instead, I’m .. not.
  • I’m tired. Sure, it’s pregnancy-tired, but it’s also work-stress tired, and school-overload tired, we’re-still-dealing-with-ADHD-issues tired, and not-consistently-sleeping-in-a-bed tired.
  • My house – more specifically, my bedroom – is a wreck. I am one of those folks who is actually impacted by the condition of my environment, and my current disarray is reflective in my mental state. I was trying to change wardrobes from Summer to Winter when I realized I was expecting, so now I can’t wear any of it, really, and I’m living from piles of clothes in the floor. Clothes are EVERYWHERE. I don’t blame Bryan for hating me over this.

***

Hey, but this. This makes me laugh so hard I’ll pee a little.

Try not to realize that, um, they’re probably fighting to the death, though, okay? Total buzzkill.

***

So we actually – against our initial judgement – stayed glue to the tv last night as election coverage rolled in. This election was interesting for me, as a Democrat in Alabama. Because I think I’m not really a Democrat in the grand sense of the word. I actually lean more Libertarian than anything else, but in Alabama, my main core beliefs are simply not conservative, so I’m a Democrat.

Because I’m a Dem in a red state, I don’t often talk about politics at work. I think that stuff is for your kitchen table or maybe your church luncheon. In general, we can happily have peaceful discourse, but I’m not looking to be “converted” nor am I looking to convert. But folks aren’t always receptive to that, and sometimes, they look to pick a fight.

I am also the first to admit that the two candidates were both human .. i.e. – they have flaws.

I walked in this morning and someone asked me if I had watched the coverage. I said yes, and they asked me how I voted. While I would NEVER ask someone this question (it rubs me as if they had asked my weight), I answered honestly. His explosive response surprised me. (Mostly because this guy gets major respect from me and I genuinely like him.) And I got a lot of that all day. It was “[my] fault” and “[my] people did this” and they “hope [I] get what [I] deserve”. Um. Really?

You know what’s most awesome about our country? The diversity and how we designed it to have a million checks and balances along the way. Even though I support Obama, he admittedly was not as effective as I would like because of said checks and balances. So I firmly believe – and did even Tuesday afternoon, before the votes were tallied – that there is not enough room in the Presidential office to allow any one man to completely break our nation over the course of four years.

“Well, what about eight years?” they spat at me.

“Dubya sure tried his damndest, didn’t he?” I responded.

Can we please just cross the aisle and make this all work already? We have BCS rankings to argue about.

***

There is no silver lining to this post yet and it feels like such a downer and I apologize. You’re probably now filling your bathtub so you can take a soak with a toaster after reading it. Please blame me in your note.

***

Okay, I leave you with this. This will still make me do a spittake but it is .. explicit. Funny, but explicit.

Comments { 4 }

I’m So Sorry, Y’all.

By on September 26, 2012 in The Unexplainable

I couldn’t even REMEMBER what my last post was. Or when I’d written it. Life has been hopping lately. And not even in a bad way – although there have been plenty of times when I’d love to just have a serious sobfest, but WHO HAS THE TIME? – just in a ERMAGHERD WITH THE CHAOS! kind of way. Bryan was out of town the majority of last week, which initially made me think that I’d get serious, uninterrupted sleep. Instead, it meant I did classwork and work-work until midnight or later every night. This week, he’s home, but it hasn’t been a whole lot better.

Here are bullets because I cannot put a complete post together and I’M SO SORRY, Y’ALL.

  • So, school. Yeah, that’s happening. And I was fulfilling an assignment last week when I stopped and actually did an Academic Advising plan to get me through to graduation. And then I cried, because I’d have to take (at least) 12 hours in every semester (including summers) to graduate by FALL 2015. That’s three freakin’ years, y’all. AS A FULL TIME STUDENT. I .. am dubious.
  • So then I had this reality check with myself. Is taking 12 hours a semester really SO important that I need to kill myself for three years over it? Or can I just admit defeat and only take three classes a semester? Because, y’all. I am in the easy, core classes right now. Twelve hours is kicking my ass.
  • KIDS, GO TO COLLEGE WHEN YOU’RE YOUNG. THERE’S A REASON THEY RECRUIT YOU WHEN YOU’RE EIGHTEEN. YOU DON’T HAVE SHIT ELSE TO DO.
  • So, work. I suddenly long for the days when my biggest commitment was work. But it helps that I really do love my job, and I like the people I work with, and things could be WAY worse there. I just know I’ve hit a ceiling (ironically, due to my lack of education) that I can’t get past until I have a degree. Which is fueling my insane course-load.
  • After I posted last time about not having any time, my fabulous sister Gee offered to pick Tony up two afternoons a week. It should not make that much of a difference, but just being able to focus until 5:45 or later without feeling guilty about Tony made SUCH A WORLD OF DIFFERENCE. I studied, got caught up on work, and took a test.
  • One night last week, I was so exhausted and overwhelmed that I decided to take a night off. I wasn’t going to work or study or anything. I was going to sit and watch a movie. (Cabin in the Woods, which I OH SO HIGHLY RECOMMEND. Freaking amazing, that flick.) So I watched that movie, and enjoyed the hell out of myself, and then I went to bed. And woke up the next morning and realized I had missed the deadline on an assignment. BECAUSE I TOOK A BREAK. (I cried.)
  • I have a whole other post to write about exercise and weight. I KNOW, YOU’RE ON THE EDGE OF YOUR SEAT.
  • I got moved to a new office at work, which was for no other reason than to consolidate and maximize available space, but my new office has a window, and it’s SO FREAKING AMAZING.
  • My employer has a yearly incentive program that supplies us with a pedometer, and if we log so many steps every day for a month, we get a giftcard for new shoes. Check these babies out.

  • On Sunday, after I’d finished two hours of homework, and before I started another three hours of homework, we all went off to our local pumpkin patch. It was a gorgeous day and I needed the fresh air, and even though we got lost in a corn maze for ALMOST AN HOUR, it was totally the best part of my weekend.

  • I leave you with a completely unrelated picture of Mabel after she was groomed last week. Mabel is now thirteen years old, and they have never ever put a bow on her. Ever. I squeeeeed like a fangirl when I picked her up. (The bow lasted all of ten minutes, but when you only have boys.. you’ll take what you can get!)

Comments { 5 }

Health and Gunky Lungs

By on July 23, 2012 in The Unexplainable

I still have gunk in my lungs. I am tired of having gunky lungs. I woke up yesterday feeling a little better, but then I did a bit too much yesterday and I’m feeling like I have rocks in my head again today. I am ready to get out. I haven’t run in weeks due to this cold, but I’m not near ready yet. I feel like this is making me a fat ass.

Part of gunky lungs is that all I’m hungry for is really spicy or really sweet. I’ve had ice cream almost every night because it feels good on my throat. Oh, also, I crave really sour. I’m just not wanting anything solid or healthy or whatever.

My sick food is always coconut soup and curries, and I’ve been indulging a little bit in that. AndreAnna’s got a great recipe for coconut soup, but it looks too complex for my current stamina level, so it’s mostly just been me making Puss-n-Boots eyes at Bryan and begging him to go get some for me.

****

I’ve been trying to write meaningful posts in my head as I’ve been sick, but I had, like, actual writing deadlines for places other than this, and then my creativity is completely sapped when I get back here. I can tell you that I’m trying to put together my thoughts regarding the recent stories of Chick-Fil-A and the Boyscouts of America reaffirming their “traditional” stances.. but I’m not sure I truly have a complete theology around it yet. We are a houseful of boys, though, so I feel like I should be ready. Because it’s coming.

****

I’ve had three cans of this today. Because it’s tart and fizzy and it makes me feel better. I’m pretty sure it’s not as healthy as I want to believe it is, though.

****

My sister is getting married in two weeks. I haven’t mentioned it much here because it’s all kind of coming together last minute and to be honest, she doesn’t like having a fuss made over her. If it were up to her, we’d all just watch a YouTube video of them signing the papers at the courthouse and then leave her the hell alone so she could take a nap or something. (.. this, actually, sounds very nice to me too.)

But because we are Italian, something must be done. At the very least, a meal with alcohol. This time, we are working to NOT intoxicate the children because we learn from our mistakes.

We spent a .. goodly amount of time yesterday “crafting” for the wedding, which basically means we were stealing ideas from Pinterest and only following them sort of as we slapdashed our way through it. The best part of this wedding is that we purposefully chose a “rustic” theme, which is code for, “No, it’ssupposed to look like a drunk hillbilly made it”.

If nothing else turns out well, I am just excited because Jenni and I are having hair and makeup done. We are not the type to splurge on stuff like that, so this is extra special fancy. I might even get an updo, y’all.

****

On a very polarizing topic – health care in America – my big corporate company is making two large changes in insurance this coming year. 1) we now have to make paycheck contributions (I know; we are INSANELY fortunate that until now, the insurance that covers my entire family has been $0 out of my pocket) and 2) they are mandating that we have health screenings.

Now, there are folks who feel that the health screenings are bad, and are meant to prevent folks with pre-existing conditions from getting good coverage. But our screenings are administered by a third-party and are homogenized into one big ole “here’s the health of your employees” pie chart or whatever, so I don’t mind them. Also, I am healthy, so there’s that.

We had a blood draw to determine our cholesterols and glucoses and whatever, and dude, I ROCKED THOSE NUMBERS. I mean, I was OFF THE CHARTS GOOD. Even my glucose – which I was worried about, since I’d had OJ prior to the test even though I was supposed to fast – was really really good. But my BMI? Was in the obese category.

THIS MAKES ME CRAZY. I run three times a week. I am really very good with my diet. I cook for my family using coconut oil and fresh vegetables and organic meats. I drink a LOT of water.  I am not as small as I have been pre-kids, but I am strong.*

But because there’s this stupid indicator of BMI that calls me obese, I will be called three times a week by some health coach who wants to help me “improve my health”. Dude, I’m okay. I’ve got this. (Now, if you’re THAT concerned, you may pony up or at least cover through insurance the funds to have lipo peformed all over my body. That’d be fine too.)

* All of these things are true when I am not sick. When I am sick – aka RIGHT NOW – all bets are off.

****

Tony decided to create a portrait of me.

Y’all, I think he nailed it.

Comments { 3 }

Not Quite a Man Cold.

By on July 18, 2012 in The Unexplainable

So I went to the doctor yesterday and SHAZAM, I’m not having a Man Cold. In fact, I’m having a very-real-why-didn’t-you-come-sooner? cold, equating to a double ear infection and bronchitis. Huh.

Since my case was already so advanced (OVERACHIEVER!), I was granted a couple of options, and of course, I took D: All of the Above. So I graciously dropped my pants for a steroid shot there in office, along with a round of antibiotics and a cough syrup laced with codeine.

(If I wasn’t on a list for buying iffy medication before this visit, I must be now.)

(Side note: I hate having to sign out buying cold meds SO MUCH that I purposefully pick up a gallon of bleach to check out each time. EACH TIME.)

Anyway, it’s been so long since I’ve been this sick (I’ve probably gotten three steroid shots in my life), that I had forgotten what meds like this do to my body.

Post-Doctor Visit

Hour 1: zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Hour 2: Huh. I feel a little better.

Hour 3: I think I might go take an easy, 20-mile jog real quick.

Hour 4: OH MY GOD, I’M HAVING THE CHANGE. WHY IS IT SO HOT IN HERE?

Hour 5: Bryan, does Tony look like a glazed ham to you too? Also, don’t you think that furniture would be delicious with salt on it?

Hour 6: It’s probably time to take my cough meds.

Hour 7: IS NO SARAH. ONLY ZUUL.

Hour 8: zzzzzzz

Hour 2 a.m.: HEY LET’S GO TRY TO RUN A MARATHON, WANNA? HAVEN’T YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO RUN A MARATHON?

Today, I’m having good spells and bad spells. During the good spells, I want to do jumping jacks and handstands. The bad spells leave me unbearably dizzy and wanting to nap. But the good news is: DIAGNOSIS and it’s not Ebola or the plague. HOORAY!

Comments { 6 }
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