Thursday, October 1, 2009

Weekend Update

I'm really too tired to even think about being funny right now. The Bean is having a growth spurt, I think, and for the last few days has been sucking all of the energy out of me. Pair that with the fact that in the last week, we went from 85 degree weather to 55 degree weather-- literally, it happened in a time span of two days-- and I had a serious case of the fall blahs.

However, lots of positive stuff has been happening. We went in for my 24-week checkup on Wednesday, and everything is right on track. Good weight gain, good measurements, no complications so far, knock on wood. So that day we also went and did our baby registries for the shower, which my mother is very generously throwing for us/ me/ Charlie Bean on the 28th of October.

(Dude. that's totally this month. Thanksgiving is next month. Christmas is the month after that. And then, a month after that, Charlie will be born. Insane.)

Speaking of registries, that was one of the most overwhelming experiences of my life. Registering for the wedding was fun; that was all just gadgets and toys and upgrades and stuff that we didn't really need, but was fun to have. Registering for a baby... well, one, it makes it even more real. But also, you realize how much stuff this little person needs.

"Well, we definitely want to register for a breast pump."
"But then we need accessories for the pump."
"And bottles! ...Ohmygosh there are literally seventeen different brands of bottles."
"and we need more than one size of nipple....hehheh, nipple." (That was me... I have the mind of a 12 year old boy lately).

Ten minutes later:

"Where the heck are the diaper pails?!?"
"uh, do we need a high chair?"
"DIAPERS! Must. get. LOTS. of. diapers."

Notice how I totally thought about the diaper pail before the diapers? Yeah. Pregnancy brain.

On a completely unrelated note, there is only one thing that is EVER appropriate to say to a pregnant woman when you are talking to her about the physical manifestations of her pregnancy: "you look great/ beautiful/ wonderful/ SODAMNGOOD!"

  • "Oh, you're hardly showing at all!" I'm 6 months pregnant. Don't freak me out about my baby not growing, please.
  • "Oh, you're really big for six months!" Oh, you're really chubby for someone eating lasagna. Shut up. ( I had guests say both of the above things to me tonight... two consecutive tables that I was serving. Do I make comments on your food choices or your obnoxious tipping habits? Well...not to your face. And DON'T TOUCH MY BELLY!)
  • "Are you sure you should be eating that?" That's between me, my doctor, and the parasite in my abdomen who is telling me that I must ABSOLUTELY have chocolate chips and garlic bread, along with a nice strip steak.
  • "When I was pregnant, I never got sick!" Aren't you the lucky duck. Excuse me, I have to go impersonate Linda Blair.

OK, so maybe I'm a little... assertive.... tonight. Blame it on the hormones. (Every time I say "blame it on the...." now, my brain goes, "Blame it on the vodka, blame it on the henny, blame it on the blue tap got you feeling dizzy, blame it on the ah-ah-ah-alcohol, blame it on the ah-ah ah-ah ah-al-co-hol..." Damn you, Jamie Foxx!)

Of course, all of this (except the part about Jamie Foxx) was said much better by the wonderfully hilarious Assertagirl over at Aiming Low. If you haven't checked out Aiming Low, you need to. It's a fantastic group of hysterical (in more ways than one) female bloggers. It is my crack.

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