Well, if that wasn’t a mic-dropping post followed by a week’s worth of silence, I don’t know what was.
Truth be told, even though I’m all sorts of preggers, life doesn’t slow down much around these parts. I still have a full load of school work, and I’m not one to pull the Pregnant Card at work, so I’m still working lots there, and as it turns out, the kids that are already out of the uterus want to eat and play all the time. So I apologize for not being here more – October is going to be a challenge for us to get through.
Not only that, but Bryan is designing (and hanging) lights for not one, but TWO shows right now, so he’s been busy and gone and stressed as well. Add to that continuing school issues with Jack and we’re all just spent. We are all looking blissfully toward a holiday of some kind. Any kind, really.
Since I don’t have a lot of exciting stuff going on right now, it’s time for random thoughts about this pregnancy.
This is not the same kid.
When we met the doctor for our first visit, he calmed me down with the worries I’d been having – the cramping is normal (“Your uterus is now expanding again, but your first pregnancy really wore out any muscles in there. So expect to be huge the second time.”)(To be fair, my doc is an electrical engineer by trade, and I rather adore his bedside manner. I find him extremely comforting.). Also, this is not the same pregnancy.
Boy, he was not just whistlin’ dixie, brother.
I really had very few symptoms of anything with Tony’s pregnancy. I had no sickness; I was tired, but not exhausted; the worst of the pregnancy was at the very, very late stage (especially since I went a week past my due date).
But this time: AM SICK ALL THE TIME. Not like, actually productive sick, but nauseous. All the time. And this from a girl who would have a cup of coffee at 5 am and then not eat until dinner at night. I am now having to learn how to do small meals every two or three hours to stave off the awfulness. I cannot imagine people who do this with every pregnancy; you are my heroes.
Also: already am third-trimester sore and tired. Parts of me that didn’t start throbbing until late last time are now already gung-ho about making my life miserable. Let’s not even talk about my boobs, but MAN, are they demanding to be noticed. (PAINFUL.) I’m already getting twinges in my hips. And this go-around, I have a newfound asthma issue to deal with.
Also, the last: WHY AM I ALREADY HUGE?
I pretty much hate everyone.
Okay, not you. I like you. But .. man. What little filter I had prior to the knocking up is now completely evaporated. I am .. kind of a horrible human being right now. And it’s not like I can even say that I’m possessed by hormones and I don’t know where it’s coming from.. it’s that I’m literally like Jim Carrey in Liar, Liar and when I think of something, I SAY IT. OUT LOUD. You’d think it would be freeing, but it’s happening at work, y’all, and I’m terrified that I will sass my way out of a job.
Maternity clothes. As in: I should get some.
Gah, I hate shopping for maternity clothes. First of all, there’s nowhere around here that sells them reasonably. Sure, we’ve got some upscale specialty boutiques that sell Seven for Mankind designer maternity jeans (?!), but um, NO.
But then yesterday, my already basketball sized child let me know in no uncertain terms that some elastic-band waists need to happen with a quickness.

Yes, this is how I wore my pants to work yesterday. I am not proud of this.
So last night, I was perusing maternity clothes online and reading reviews, because you really are just at the mercy of the manufacturer when you’re forced to only buy maternity clothes online. And I was looking at some Gap maternity jeans, because I like Gap jeans anyway, and I thought, Why not?
And these were some of the reviews.
These jeans are amazing! I’m six months pregnant and the size 2 fit me PERFECTLY. But I had to size down because I don’t want a frumpy butt!
These are the perfect maternity jeans! I’m five months along and just grew out of my pre-pregnancy jeans, so I decided to splurge on some of these and I’m so glad I did! I usually wear a Size 00, but the baby bump has brought me a to a Size 0. Hopefully I’ll make it back.. LOL!
Seriously. I’m eight weeks along and had to use a FREAKIN’ HAIR ELASTIC TO MAKE MY PRE-PREGNANCY FAT JEANS WORK FOR EIGHT HOURS. I wish these women acreage of stretch marks.
Food is Amazing.
Oddly enough, I’ve cooked almost every night. I’ve missed cooking; I love how soothing it is at the end of a chaotic day. And when I cook, I control what we eat! So if I have a craving – I COOK WHATEVER THAT CRAVING IS. It’s pretty damn awesome, if I do say so myself.
Also, since I now have to have small snacks all day, I’m reverting to my childhood loves.

Also: anything dipped in peanut butter. Also: olives of any and every kind.
BRAINSTORM: Peanut butter filled olives on Triscuits. YESSSSSS.
I am having some guilt issues.
Lemme tell you about this night I had the other night.
My first dream was that I had the baby and I was so excited to get back to non-pregnant life that I knowingly left the baby at the hospital. I had no emotional attachment to this baby whatsoever.
Like, have you seen Eraserhead? If you’re pregnant, DON’T. But .. that’s kind of how I saw this baby.
So the hospital calls and they’re like Don’t you want your baby girl? and I was all, “Wait, it’s a girl? I have to get a wreath for my door!” And I picked her up and she was overjoyed to see me, like full-on grinning, and I handed her over to Bryan, because I had better things to do.
OHMYGOD, RIGHT?!
So about this time, in real life, Tony comes barreling in to the living room (it was my night on the couch), yelling and screaming at me about “not turning off the powers”. I bluntly tell him to get back to bed NOW, and then I go back to sleep.
In my next dream, Tony and I are hurrying to get somewhere. Tony, per usual, is taking his sweet four-year-old time to dawdle behind me and generally not keeping up. “Stay with me,” I threatened, “or I may leave you here.”
AND I DID.
Y’ALL, I GOT IN MY MINIVAN AND DROVE OFF FROM MY CHILD, LEAVING HIM RUNNING BEHIND ME IN A PARKING LOT.
(I’m crying now, as I type this.)
Still in the dream, Jenni finds out what I’ve done and is livid, so she makes me go get him. I find him wandering in a neighborhood close to the parking lot, cut and bleeding and bits of trash in his hair. I barely acknowledge him while Jenni cleans him up.
And then – THE COUP D’ETAT – Lola jumps in the van. FREAKING LOLA. The cat that we gave away because she was continually attacking Tony in the eyes made a freaking guilt cameo in my dream.
Now, I know that pregnant dreams in general are weird and don’t follow logic of any type, but DAMN.
Brain, lighten up just a little.
No matter what: the Hot Apple Cider is back.
So I encourage us all to go get one.