Tuesday, April 30, 2013

How do you feel?

"How do you feel?"

Man, do I hate that question.  I'm 38 weeks pregnant.  I've been accused of having twins on a number of occasions (by complete strangers).  I've been told I've "dropped" by everyone with eyes, and EVERYONE asks me how I'm feeling. the fuck do I look like I'm feeling?  These bags under my eyes are not a fashion statement.  Yes, I know you can see the belly band of my maternity pants.  That's because my shirt doesn't cover it anymore.  No, I'm not going to buy new shirts.  You're lucky I'm even wearing pants today.  Fuck off please?
Why yes, I am still pregnant.  You're quite observant.

Mostly....I feel like a walrus.

Picture Stolen from Alphamom
(Side Note:  That is by far the awsomest pregnancy calendar ever.)
(Ok, except maybe this one..... )

I'm done with people asking me questions.  Am I holding a baby?  No?  Then I haven't popped yet.  Thanks for reminding me that I'm still pregnant.  I kinda forgot.  Guess I should stop snorting lines of coke then, eh?  Since I'm still pregnant.  Unless you want to hear about my mucous plug....back off.

I've been having pretend contractions for 2 weeks now.  Which, in my opinion, is just bullshit.  They don't quite hurt exactly.  But they sure as hell aren't comfortable.  Last night they got a little bit stronger. 

The day they started, it took me most of the day to realize what was going on.  I thought I was just having cramps.  I've had cramps for most of this pregnancy, so that wasn't shocking at all.  Just another thing for me to get all pissy about.

Sometime after lunch I realized that these cramps were coming and going.  Getting stronger and then subsiding.

"Holy shit, I'm having contractions."

Then comes the best game ever.  Do I call my midwife or not?  Do I risk being that girl who calls the doc every time anything happens?  I called them the week before because my feet suddenly swelled up like giant, foot shaped balloons.  The week before I showed up for an appointment I didn't actually have.  Did I want to show up for nothing again?

So I decided that I wouldn't call until 2pm.  If it was still going on at 2:00 I would call.  I had an appointment the next day anyway.  So of course, it stopped.

Also of course, the next day I got reamed out for not calling.  Everything was fine, but I got the whole "if you're concerned, you call us" talk.  Ok, Ok....sorry...jeeze.

Anyway.....last night these contractions got a little bit stronger.  I text my friend, who just had a baby last week:

Me:  "At the risk of ringing the false alarm bell.....I think these contractions are starting to suck a little more."
Her:  "How far apart are they?"
Me:  "No idea. I just realized they were hurting more."
Her:  "Well time them, asshole."

This is about the same thing I said to her last week when she actually went into labor.  No fake contractions for her.  Nope, those are all mine.

The thing is....I can't really time them.  They don't seem to go away.  They come on.....and then they just sort of stay.  I try to note when they get noticably stronger, but either I'm having 15 minute contractions....(ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)....or I'm just actually crampy with some contracting thrown in for good measure.

I'd talk about my mucous plug....but one wants to know.

In any case, maybe I'll have a baby later.  Wish me luck.

Monday, April 22, 2013


So I'm due to have a baby sometime between now and 3 weeks from now.  I'm partly like "This CANNOT happen soon enough" and partly like "Just let me get these couple of things done first".

Every day there's some project that needs completing.  My baby shower was on Saturday (Thanks everyone!!), so of course on Sunday I had to go to the baby store and buy all the baby crap that I didn't get yet.

Side Note:  Everyone buys cute crap for baby showers.  Little outfit, socks, baby bath robes......I got very limited practical crap.  My two pregnant friends (both due in May also, both having boys also....and we're all blondes.  We're obviously making a small version of Village of the Damned) got me a big bag of all the little crap you NEED.  Diaper rash cream, thermometer, first aid kit, nursing pads....etc.  Otherwise, I have tons of little just oh-so-adorable outfits.

I'm not complaining.  I love outfits.  But I had a lot to buy. 

I got almost all of it, without spending a ton of money (depending on who you ask.  My husband is amazed at how much crap a little baby needs, and I didn't get anything that I deem stupid.  Like a wipe warmer.). 

So then I had to take off all the tags and wrappings and such, put away everything that wasn't fabric, and wash ALL of the clothes and blankets and towels and crap.

I put together the changing table and this little bench thing and the bouncer (with much needed and appreciated help from my daughter).

That was after super cleaning my bedroom on Saturday because the baby is going to sleep in there for the first few months and "look at this dust", and "should I wash the curtains?", and "when is the last time we cleaned the ceiling fan?"

My mom says to me "oh, someone is nesting".

I wanted to punch her in the throat. 

No, I'm not fucking nesting.  I'm not overcome with a huge urge to do all these things.  They have to get done.  How do I change the baby if the changing table is in a box? I have to wash all the clothes and blankets because they smell like chemicals.  I have to clean the ceiling fan because it is caked with inches of dust and if I need to turn it on dust is going to fly everywhere all over my baby.

Ok.  I'm nesting.  Also, it sucks!  I don't want to do this.  I want to lay down.  But everywhere I look is something that really needs to get done before I pop out a kid.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Pony Drama

OK, so for anyone that didn't know, I have horses.  I have my old mare whom I just take out on trail rides and my daughter has a pony.  My mother keeps her horses at my house.  She has 2 horses and a little, useless pony.  Also at my house is another horse that belongs to a friend of mine.
There used to be two little, useless ponies.  They were old ponies, that we adopted back when my daughter was little, and they had to go together.
Well one of them passed away this fall.  It was very sad....
Anyway.....every summer we moved both ponies from my house around the corner to my mother's house to eat the grass in their field all summer long.  This saved money and effort because they could live off just the grass and needed nothing else until October-ish.
So this year we have found ourselves with an obstacle in the way of our usual plan.  The pony that's left can't go to my mother's house by herself.  She will be lonely, and make a ruckus and such.
So I have a brilliant idea. 
Me:  "Let's get a mini horse."
Mom:  "For what?"
Me:  "To keep the pony company.  They don't eat much."
Mom:  "I don't want anything else that I have to feed or pay the bills for.  No mini horse."

OK fine.....

Fast forward to last night...
Mom:  "I got that mini horse."

I'm sorry, what?  It was a terrible idea 2 weeks ago, when it was my idea (This is how my mother rolls.  Her ideas are excellent.  Mine are always terrible.)  Now you just have a mini horse. 

For those who aren't horse savvy, a mini horse is just that.  A miniature.  A pony is a different thing all together.  There's a difference.  (Though based on this one's measurements, it's probably a mini-pony....but I'm getting off topic.)

Apparently a friend of ours had one she was looking to be rid of because she's moving.  So I called my friend and asked her about the horse. 
J:  "She's really sweet.  My daughter rides her.  She picks up her feet nicely.  She is really quiet."

So apparently we are the proud new owners of a mini mare, or a female.

So I put her in the field with the pony last night to let them get acquainted.  There is the typical squealing, and kicking, and establishing of the pecking order.  This happens most of the time when you introduce two horses.  They'll get over it.

Now on to this morning.  I'm driving down the driveway toward the bus stop, my daughter in the back seat.  The mini and the pony are in the field, scratching each others necks.  This is a sign of affection (and super cute) and means they're friends now.

Me:  "Oh good, I guess they're friends now."
Kid:  "Um....why is the new pony jumping up on her like that?"
Me:  (At the mini) "Hey stupid, you know you're a girl right?"

Well the mini jumps up on the pony....from behind. (Anyone know where this is going?)  Then I see it....the mini's very pronounced penis.  She had a dick.  Not only were they friends....they were excellent friends.

So I get my kid on the bus just in time and drive back to the barn, dialing the friend that gave us the mini."

Me:  "So, I was under the impression that this mini was a mare."
J:  "She is...."
Me:  "All except for the dick maybe."
J:  ".........What?"
Me:  "Yeah, she has a penis.  She is a he.  Now I have to go see if he has balls before I go to work."

Again, for those less horse don't spay a female horse.  It's probably ridiculously expensive, if it can be done.  Instead you geld, aka neuter, the males.  If they are intact, it's a stallion.  If they have been clipped, you call it a gelding. 

So, if this boy has his beans, then he technically could have knocked up our aged pony over night.  That's what I need....a baby freaking pony.  Cute and all, but not a good thing.

So the short version of the end of this story finds me calling my dad to ask him to come hold a mini horse while I check him for cojones.  (Ha! Spell check doesn't like the word cojones.)

He comes over and holds the mini while I lift up the tail.....nothing to be seen, but I have never actually checked for nuts before.  So I look underneath....(have I mentioned that I'm very fat with baby, and this guy's belly is only maybe 24" from the ground.....this wasn't comfortable) nothing to be seen behind the penis where you'd expect them to be.  Sigh......So I reach under there and grope him.  Empty. 

So the good news is that I do not have a potentially pregnant pony.

The bad news is that my day began with sodomizing a horse.  This isn't how I expected my Monday to start.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013


Ok.  That's it.  I just want to whine now. 

I don't want to do this anymore.  Can I get a court order for eviction of my unborn child?  You! Get out!

Enough all ready. 

I just want all of the following:

-to tie my shoes without a sharp pain in my crotch when I bend over.

-to not have constriction marks on my ankles from my socks because my feet are too swollen.

-to not snore like a lumberjack (sorry, if you happen to be a lumberjack)

-to be able to roll over in bed without a hoist and pulley system

-to shave my own unmentionable area (thank you honey, but you're terrible at this)

-to sleep for more than 1 hour straight

-to sit for more than 20 minutes without feeling like I've been sitting on a battle axe

-a fucking glass of wine

-no more hot flashes

-to stay up past 9pm like a big girl

-for gas to just pass through my bowels without getting stuck and causing pain in the region of 8 out of 10

-to put my rings back on

-to not lose feeling in my hands if I forget to hold them in just the right position for a couple of minutes

For everything to just suck less I guess. 
I'm sure all pregnant women go through this stage, where they just want it to be over. 
Yes, I know that whining about it won't make it go any quicker.
Makes me feel a little better though....
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Shouldn't You Be Working by Bethany Davenport is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.