Friday, September 29, 2006

Farting to the rescue

When we were kids farts were funny. You told fart jokes, made fart noises with your armpits and the palms of your hands, and crowned the king of farts. As we grew older farts became the one way to guarantee your alienation from any and all social groups. If you were unlucky enough to have one creep out on you, you were destined to be teased and humliated for the whole of your adolecence. This of course applied to boys only, because as girls we don't fart. We're incapable of doing so, we don't even have the proper organs to do so. Even Gallagher showcased our lack of flatulance in one of his skits stating "Women don't fart...they bitch." As unflattering as that may sound, it's quite true. While men grow up and end up reverting back to childish high fives for an "awesome fart man!". Women have learned to release this pent up energy through our constant nagging and bitching. It become twice as bad during "that time of the month" when our gas production goes into overdrive. While we may have the occasional "slip" we'd never admit to it. We hide, blame it on our chairs, or look around aimlessly for the unknown source of said noise.

However, everything we have learned as girls goes right out the window when we become pregnant. Gas production is at it's peak. Everything we eat gives us uncontrollable gas. And not just little toots or silent ones. We're talking about the ones you can hear for blocks and their so noxious it could clear a room. Unfortunately we pregnant women must fart or die. The gas pressure can build up so bad that it feels as if your stomach will explode. So farting is a welcome release, in privacy of course. Now the husband in our three years of being together, has yet to hear me fart. He claims it's a myth, a fabrication of my imagination. He just can't believe I fart! So naturally he doubts me when I tell him I can't stop farting. And it has become his latest obsession. He gets mad when I don't fart around him, or if I fart and he's not there. He's tried sneaking up on me, sitting outside the bathroom door listening, and waking up in the middle of the night to listen. As he puts it "I just have to smell one of these doozies you keep talking about". And thus proves that within each of us lies the mind of a small child.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Twiggy

There is something to be said for shopping while pregnant. Not only does your mind not think rationally, nine wine goblets that match my china pattern for $150 what a steal! But everything makes you feel fatter than you really are. Now, I am in no way saying that I'm not carrying around a spare tire, or two. Both of which I can thank the lovely husband for convincing me that I'm beautiful just the way I am, and in my warped mind that means bring on the chocolate! But when you stand me next to a 15 yr old girl, who has barely hit puberty, weights a buck and a quarter soaking wet and is wearing the clothing equivalent to underwear while shopping it makes it a little hard not to be a little critical of one's own body. Both of her thighs together weren't near the size of one of mine, and my ass certainly required it's own zipcode in comparison. However, my saving grace, I had boobs! I had gobs of boobs. Hers were tiny little mosquito bites compared to my womanly breasts. So, instead of allowing this critical expose of our bodies send me into emotional over-drive running head long for the nearest ice cream shop, I sucked in my gas inflated protruding belly as best as possible, stuck out my chest, flipped my hair around and marched myself proudly out of the store. Proudly, of course, was short lived as I walked smack into the glass front doors. Stunned and a bit embarrassed I tried as best as possible to sneak out without any further humiliations. While I may have made and ass of myself at least I have front bumper pads to cushion my falls.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Too...exhausted...today...to...type...enjoy...someone...
else's...blog...until...tomorrow...

www.lookydaddy.com

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Ladies and Gentlemen I have an announcement:

I am wearing elastic waist pants, and they're comfortable! Now you may be throwing your hands up in fright and trying to stifle a scream of horror, but I understand. I too had flash backs to my mother in the 80's with her elastic waist jeans when I first laid eyes on them. However after my breakdown earlier this week and the official packing up of prepregnancy pants, I am left with pants that slightly resemble work out wear or elastic waist pants. Neither are really all that flattering on a professional 26 yr old but the choices are quite restrictive. While I may not have gained any weight (yet) or sport a joyous belly yet that buldges and screams "I am pregnant!" the transfer of my weight from my nether regions to my midsection have become obvious. This additional mass in my midsection has made my prepregnancy jeans fit similar to a woman who has obviously gone up a jean size or two, but refuses to accept her larger size and insists on wearing her smaller jeans. She is no longer able to comfortably pull them on and has resorted to lying down on the bed to get them to zip. The proverbial "muffin top" is also present and in the end I usually just unbuttoned them at my desk and enjoyed the bliss of additional space. So to this I will single handedly attempt to revive the elastic waist pant in an effort avoid looking like an idiot for my remaining 7 months of pregnancy. Join me in my efforts, purchase your own pair and rock on with your bad self!

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Deal or No Deal

Shopping and I are kindred souls; We belong together. Only so much time can pass in between our meetings before I start to twich and loose all control. And like all shopoholics we hide our obsession, we are experts at deception and covering up the signs of our obsession. Unless of course we got a fabulous deal then we feel the need to share this information with every person we meet on the street. Men however, don't understand this obsession, nor do they understand the excitement we feel when we get a great deal. Yesterday was one of those awesome days that fell flat on it's face. I'd had enough of my "normal" jeans being a little too tight and decided that it was time to buy my first pair of pregnancy pants. I'd heard that Old Navy had a decently priced selection of maternity pants. I was hoping to find something that would fit comfortably now and throughout my entire pregnancy but still look cute that I "might" be able to wear them post pregnancy. As I begin browsing Old Navy I noticed they had a lot of selection in the clearance sections, a lot of really NICE selections. And from there it snowballed. One great piece turned into two, which multiplied into four and before I knew it I'd headed over to the men's section where they were having 50% off clearance prices! It was like I'd died and gone to clearance heaven. I was breathing heavy and my heart was beating so fast. It was exhilarating. When it was all said and done I had a wonderful smile on my face, only a moderate dent in my pocketbook and 5 pairs of pants and 4 shirts to show for it. I couldn't wait to tell the husband.

me: "Hey there, guess what I just did."

husband: "Knowing you it could be anything."

me: "I was just over at Old Navy and they had tons of stuff on clearance!"

husband: "I told you, your not allowed in a clearance section without my supervision."

me: "But they had great stuff!"

husband: "How much did you spend?"

me: "Not that much, I got lots of good stuff. They had men's t-shirts for $2!"

husband: "That's nice honey."

me: "Your not excited."

husband: "Not really"

Bummed about the lack of support I was receiving, I decided to console myself with pizza, because pizza fixes everything!

Monday, September 18, 2006

I'm pregnant?!?

It's a rainy afternoon and despite the absence of my nausea (yippee!) I find my mind wandering and unable to focus on the task at hand. So the million dollar question today is: how do women go nine months and not realize they are pregnant!?! You know what I'm talking about, you've seen it in the headlines and they always have these crazy women on jerry Springer or Rikki lake. "I never knew I was pregnant", "Woman gives birth to son, didn't know she was pregnant", "Woman had head buried in the sand for nine months". Give me a break ladies. Your trying to tell me you didn't notice the absence of your aunt flow? You didn't know that your perfectly flat stomach now as a little unexplained pooch? You didn't experience even one ounce of morning sickness (and if you say yes, may god strike you down as a liar)? I find it completely hard to believe that within nine months, which by the way is now more like ten months when you actually take a look at a calendar and count 40 weeks, but I digress, there was an utter lack of an sign what so ever that you were pregnant. Is this even medically possible? The pregnancy bible lists at least a hundred perfectly common symptoms that will happen throughout the course of pregnancy:

Morning sickness (spawn of Satan)
Weepiness (husband thinks your possessed)
Increase appetite & Food aversions (these will happen simultaneously)
Increase sense of smell (I can smell pizza anywhere in a four block radius)
weight gain (no kidding)
swelling of extremities (say adios to shoes)
hemorrhoids (my fav!)
leaking (mutiple places)
Inability to walk past a child under the age of 5 and not start crying with joy

How do these seemingly normal woman not notice anything wrong with them. In my daydreamy state I've discovered the answer. These woman are all under age and couldn't find a good way in nine months to tell her parents that she is pregnant by her jobless boyfriend who has now run off on her with Bobbie sue. So instead of facing the music like an adult these "girls" take the easy road, and as gullible parents, as I'm sure I'll be one day, we believe them! They are miracles of modern medicine and they should be treated as one. Ack! It's brilliant, why didn't I think of that. Probably because I'm too concerned with trying to decide which color of blue paint goes best with the crib bedding I've picked out. Women! pfft....

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Wendy's


I have a confession....I have eaten at Wendy's three times in two days. Unfortunately I wouldn't have to confess this if I hadn't been caught red handed by the drive thru lady! Their ham and cheese sandwiches are the only thing that don't make me nauseous, so I eat what's safe. You may ask yourself why don't you just make them yourself? Good question, however when you don't feel good and the husband is out of town going to the grocery store is out of the question. I've also determined that as a pregnant woman when I get hungry you'd better feed me like NOW, not in ten minutes, not after you get finished with something, I mean right NOW!. So time is of the essence when hunger is involved. In my hasty quest for sustenance I decided on eating the same thing twice in one day, Wendy's. Now one would think that there would be no fear of recognition in patronizing an establishment twice in one day. Common sense tells you that there are two different meal shifts; a lunch shift and a dinner shift. With two different people working the drive thru,,I am not so lucky. The same lady working the lunch shift yesterday was the same woman also working the dinner shift. Now again, she probably sees a hundred people each day, how could she possibly remember me, right? Wrong, and here's why. Number one, I have a very distinctive credit card. Number two, their credit card machine thought they were trying to re-run my credit card number. Which, in theory, is really a great safety measure, however in this application, quiet embarrassing. As the card machine declined my card she paused a moment, gazed at my card, took a side glance at me gave her braids a toss and laughed. BUSTED!

her:"I thought I recognized you"

me(sheepishly): "hehehe, ya"

she continued to giggle as she shuffled off to find her manager. Lesson learned. Do not attempt to eat lunch AND dinner from the same restaurant in the same town in the same day. At least have the forethought to drive across town and patronize that Wendy's. Mental note made.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

So much to eat and so little time

As a pregnant woman, it's amazing what you feel like eating when your not nauseated or vomiting. I had a laundry list of things I wanted to eat by 9 am this morning. None of which were in my desk drawer sadly. Here's a sampling:

- Half a watermelon
- a baked potato
- a ham and cheese sandwich
- jolly ranchers
- chewy chocolate granola bar
- fruit snacks
- bits 'n pieces milk shake from steak & shake
- key lime pie
- 3 musketters bar

by 11 am I could no longer wait for lunch to come to me. So I went to lunch, early. Based on practicality, I decided a half a watermelon wasn't conducive to the work environment, nor was a key lime pie and the nearest steak & shake was a 15 min drive. So I hit up my nearest Krogers and Wendy's to check off all the remaining items on my list. After setting a world record for shortest time to consume a baked potato and a ham and cheese sandwich, I'm slightly gassy but pleasantly full none the less. I also have a fully stocked desk drawer that will no longer disappoint me. That is until tomorrow, when I come up with a new list of cravings.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Stock tip for the month:




Invest heavily in Gas-x. Their profits will sky rocket as I single handedly pad their bottom line from my own pocketbook. I will drain their inventory and force their employees to work overtime to keep up with my demand. My co-workers will praise the product as it relieves them of their misery of working in confinded spaces with me for 9 hours a day. The pregnancy bible What to expect when you are expecting says this is "normal" that this is very common throughout pregnancy. Yipee, my coworkers have eight more months of this! I can't wait for the husband to get home tonight, we'll play a little game of dutch oven :)

Friday, September 08, 2006

It's all your fault!

I try to remind myself that this is suppose to be a happy time. I should be joyous and glowing. However I can't seem to focus on much past the fact that I have been nauseated for four days. Everything makes it worse, nothing makes it better. I couple this with an overwhelming feeling of uselessness. I can't cook, the smell of everything makes me puke. I can't clean, the idea of bending over the very place in which I am trying so hard to avoid just to remove the "under the rim" dirt isn't comforting. I can't do the smallest task to help achieve a "neat" home. Taking a long early evening nap is the only thing that sounds appealing. Laying down anywhere at this point and not moving sounds blissful. In a episode of pure hormonal breakdown, I call the husband.

(sobbing)

me: "Are you mad at me?"

husband: "Why would I be mad at you?"

(still sobbing, and a little sniffling)

me: "Because I'm sick and can't do anything productive so you have to do everything"

husband: "Honey you can't help that your pregnant, it's not your fault"

(light bulb goes off)

me: "You right this is all your fault"

Feeling considerably better in light of my condition, I hang up the phone and order a pizza.