Love Juice and Snow Covered Mountains

Okay... This is my warning to all men who may be reading this blog. Go visit ESPN.com or something b/c this is way too much information and may actually scar you for life. But hey, I decided... if I'm going to do this thing, I'm going to do it 100% truthful. So, this is what today's events brought... or should I say, prevented.

I LOVE Spraytans! Can't get enough of 'em. In fact, I travel a good 25 minutes out of my way every week, just so I can stand in my skivvies (or should I say undies and pasties that no longer cover even half of my enlarged nipples) and get sprayed by a middle-aged hippie who talks to fast to understand (He's really a good guy, I must add... and a master of his craft). What can I say? It's totally worth it!! For 20 bucks I get about 50 extra self confidence points that lasts a good 4 days before I slump back down to my normal pregnancy lack of self confidence. So, I usually make this a Thursday, after-work ritual leaving me primed for the weekend, but today I learned an important lesson. I learned to always carry an extra pair of undies.... or you might end up having to skip the spray tan due to what I'm going to call... a pregnancy pit stain.... and I'm not talking about your ARM pits (Told ya boys... you don't want to read this). Why is it that so much stuff can come from something that is so small? and Where the hell is it all coming from?? I mean, don't we need to leave some up there as cushioning for the baby?? So, of course,... this isn't the first time during the pregnancy that this has happened.... in fact, it happens daily, but not usually to the extent it did today... leaving a wet spot that would've definitely been cause for a very awkward conversation.... "Hey... what's that on your underwear that looks like the shape of Florida??" "Oh... that's just the baby blowing his nose.." Yeeeeah... not something I wanted to go through... especially when there are positions you have to stand in while getting sprayed, that aren't the most flattering to begin with. I'm about to start wearing two layers of undies! Do they make something that can reduce the amount of spooge that comes out... ya know, like prescription anti-perspirant, but for your vagina?? I'd totally buy it! Oh.. and don't forget the lovely melvins you get as a result of the love juice being the consistency of superglue... causing your under garments to stick to whatever it touches... I'm getting nervous I'll look down one day and see my pants lodged up somewhere they don't belong leaving the infamous camel toe for all to see. Seriously.... the things we put up with! And don't forget the fact that "grooming" that area had become next to impossible. I mean, it's like a blind person trying to drive... but, this is where a good hubby will come in handy (ew... I know, but it's necessary) Your other option is, of course, to let in grow like the amazon.... now mix in the love juice, and you've got a Jersey Shore boy's hair do inside your underpants! Oh and it's only going to get better with time.. I mean, there's still pissing yourself to look forward too! God forbid you sneeze in public! No wonder it's so taboo to have a baby out of wed-lock.... b/c no man in their right minds would stick around for all this crap unless he was legally bound! Not exactly what I was picturing while I was making the baby.

Now... should I go into the nipple deformities and milky discharge?? Well, if you're still reading at this point, it's probably b/c you've experienced it all so why not...

Ya know what I can't stand?? I can't stand watching the victoria secret commercials where they advertise their latest "sexy" bra.... and put it on what I'm telling myself is a digitally composed women with intense air brushing (b/c I can't bare the thought that that woman actually walks this earth... b/c it's just not fair) while I look down at two mountains that can't even be recognized as "breasts" anymore b/c there are so many damn veins popping out like rivers on a topography map... and my nipples are so large that they look like discolored tops of snow covered mountains... and then there's the whole fact that they have crusties... like you get in the corner of your eye when you wake up, but much more disgusting b/c once you peel them away, watery milk drips out. Oh yeah.... I'm gonna go out and spend 50 bucks on a bra that holds one nipple put together so that I can soak it with my boob juice and those nasty blue veins and stretch marks can be lifted up that much closer to my eyes so that there's NO way I could miss them.... yeah. Or... it just reminds me that no amount of "sexy" in a bra will help the fact that when this is all said and done, my snow covered mountains with blue rivers will be come deflated parade balloons that hang closer to my belly button than my chin and eventually take the shape of bananas. Pushing them up won't do a thing when they're like watery jello... spilling out of all the wrong places and those cute little quarter sized nipples that once were pointing straight ahead, are now the remnants of an infant's chew toy that haven't seen the light of day b/c they point so far south. So... yeah... those commercials piss me off. Go have a baby and then walk around in your "sexy" bra. Oh who am I kidding??? Those computer composed, heavily airbrushed, fake women probably pop right back... Does anyone know how I can get some of that? Or,,.... is that what a boob job is for?

Poor hubby... random thoughts from a pregnant mind

I don't really have a specific topic to write about, so I'm just going to see where this goes. Last night while typing about nesting with my intermittent views of my eyelids, I had so many good things to write... and I thought to myself, "I'll totally remember them... I can just do it tomorrow." Um.... yeeeah. I'm sure you can tell that didn't happen.

Which brings me to random thought # 1) I now share an attention span with my 18 month old daughter, Ali. I'm sure, if evaluated, I would clearly be medicated for severe ADHD. Forget watching a movie... I'm concentrating on finishing conversations. My favorite is when I get distracted by.... oh, I don't know... a floating dust bunny,... and forget what it was I was talking about mid-sentence. That happened to me today while trying to discuss the current economic state with one of my very knowledgeable and distinguished male package store owners. I paused.... tried to pick up where I left off, and ended up repeating the same word 3 times while using it incorrectly in my non-sentence. He just looked at me and smiled.... but I know he was thinking I was a total ding bat. Serves me right for trying to talk about the economy... which I only know 2 facts about as it is.

Random thought # 2) My poor hubby... He gets run over by the hormonal roller coaster daily. Like,... last night, I was eating M&M's out of a large candy jar (jar filled 3/4 of the way). There was clearly enough for an entire soccer team in there, but yet when my hubby asked me to put the jar between us (as opposed to on my left, where he couldn't reach it), I got annoyed. Then... as if I were a starving dog protecting it's last 3 kibbles, I got annoyed whenever he actually stuck his hand in the jar to get some M&Ms... and not just b/c he was depleting my scarce supply...... But more so because I had to wait the 1 and a half seconds it took for him to take a handful. I actually got annoyed b/c I had to wait for him to get his hand out of the jar before I could shove the next handful in my mouth.... and i wasn't even done chewing what I had!! As hard as I try NOT to have these crazy thoughts... they just come barreling on through my brain like a tsunami... and of course, at this point, I've lost all control of my "emotional filter"... you know, that thing that prevents your brow from furrowing and your eyes from turning into daggers every time you have a bad flow of emotion.... yeah, that's gone, so of course.... my brow furrowed and my eyes turned into Hattori Hanzo swords at the mere sight of his big hand going anywhere NEAR that jar of M&M's.... poor guy... he had no idea what he did, and of course,... there's not rational way to explain this, so I just grunted, said nothing and let him look at me with confusion.... which also, annoyed me. Then five minutes later I made him rub my back (insert big cheese smile). He's so good though... he never complains. Were the roles reversed... he'd be on the street!

Random thought # 3) Speaking of the hubby.... he is totally, absolutely, never allowed to FART EVER AGAIN! They stink and it makes me want to puke and for whatever reason they have the staying power of super glue! (I just have to mention that I had a totally different thing in mind to write down and I got distracted by a horrific noise coming from my hubby's ass followed by the worst smell you could ever imagine and of course..... I forgot.) Which leads me to think.... he really isn't allowed to do any normal, bodily function... in fact... I'm pretty sure I expect him to turn them all off until this baby is born. No farting, NO NO NO pooping, no burping, no falling asleep before me, no eating anything unless I want to eat it, no eating anything I want to eat, no kissing me or touching me unless I tell him to (and by tell him, I mean telepathically), no watching TV/movies that I don't pick, no hanging up the phone until I'm done with the conversation (no matter what work matter comes up), no calling me when I'm busy (again.. he should know that by my telepathic vibes) and OH... ABSOLUTELY NO SNORING (snoring is cause for possible spousal abuse)! Pregnancy hormones make me a little, um...... well, crazy. Okay.... most of these things are just thoughts, but like I said,... the filter is gone, so I'm sure he picks up on it. So... how does he do it? And still manage to do nice things for me like... turn on the burner when I think I'm boiling water, but really have no idea that it's not turned on (yeah,... I would've waited a while before figuring out, that's just where I'm at right now)... or plug in my cell phone when I let it die in my purse.... or how about just not slug me back when I smack him in the face for snoring (because.... he's totally doing it on purpose!) He's a helluva guy, I tell ya.... but he knows that... I tell him all the time (telepathically, of course).

Okay... to be continued... I'm looking at my eyelids again.

Psycho Nesting

Well, here I am... officially in the last trimester of this lovely adventure called pregnancy. I am just about 30 weeks (rounding up, of course) and I no longer can form anything except simple sentences, I'm farting like a frat guy (or Alpha girl hah), and there are only two things on my mind at all times: Eating and cleaning. If I'm eating.... which there's a good chance I am, then I'm thinking about cleaning... and if I'm cleaning, well, I'm usually eating at the same time. The eating, I'm telling myself, is completely fine.... it's not ME with the insatiable appetite for sugar coated sugar, it's the baby, and the cleaning is just part of the amazing phenomenon called, "nesting." Anyone who has had the pleasure of living with a woman in her third trimester of pregnancy knows that the nesting instinct is both a blessing and a curse. All of the sudden, you have this uncontrollable urge to clean, disinfect, and organize all at the same time and often times, this urge takes priority over everything.... including your basic needs, like sleep (not so much the eating, tnough). At first, you're cleaning normal things and your spouse might think... "hey, this is great!" The dishes are always done, there's no clutter on the kitchen table, the laundry is neatly folded... but slowly (or very abruptly) the urge takes on a life of it's own and you start to clean between the tiles on the bathroom floor with a q-tip or the air vent at the bottom of the refrigerator. You skip movie nights with your hubby to clean and disinfect every cabinet knob in the house and even an opportunity for a foot rub won't make you stop wiping the base boards. Organization also becomes an obsession and simply neatly stacking the towels in the linen closet will no longer do... oh, no no no.... they must now be folded EXACTLY the same way with the same edge on each towel facing out and be color coordinated, of course. Every project or craft that you have ever started or thought about must now be finished... for me it included printing out 500+ digital photos and organizing them, chronologically, in albums sorted by event or finishing Ali's baby book which I let sit on the shelf for the last 18 months. Also on my list is to paint a scene on Ali's wall... a design on the bathroom door, and refinish a table.

Now, I'm wondering how linen closet organization and refrigerator vent cleaning made it through evolution to our modern day genetic make-up..... because, I'm pretty sure that neither of those things will improve the life of my future child. I get that you're supposed to be "building your nest" in preparation for the baby's arrival, so that everything is all set and you can dedicate 100% of your attention to the baby and not anything else, but it seems to me that somewhere along the line, there must have been a genetic mutation and this nesting instinct got a little out of control. If I don't normally clean the air vent at the bottom of the fridge, then why are my instincts forcing me to do it now?? It gets a little ridiculous when you can't even drive down the road without thinking about cleaning out the bathroom drain. Now, if only I could bottle up the chemical inside my head that makes me the psycho cleaner and sell it on the street to lazy people and maid services,..... I'd be rich! Also, I wouldn't mind it in smaller doses... like, when I just need to get the laundry put away, I could take one dose and when I need to clean the entire house, I could take 2 or 3 doses.

It's pretty amazing the things our body is preprogrammed to do...things that we never learned or even knew about. It's pretty funny to see the way these things are expressed in modern day life. I'm sure that nesting had a whole different way of expressing itself in the cave women. But who knows, maybe they were thinking the same thing while they cleaned obsessively.... except instead of the refrigerator vent it was the crevices in the cave walls.

Okay, the eyes are shutting... off to dream of M&M's for dinner and clorox disinfecting wipes. Happy cleaning, pregos!