Wednesday, October 28, 2009


My sister is throwing me a shower next month. Traditionally, you have a shower 4-6 weeks before your due date. I know it is a bit early, but we decided to do it in November for multiple reasons.

1. I am historically very cranky the last month of my pregnancy. Being a petite woman, carrying an almost full-time baby is cumbersome and a little annoying for me. I will not be in a "party mood" in February.

2. January in KC is known for ice storms. January is also a "recovery month" for a lot of people financially. Christmas really does a number on people, and most of them will be less than thrilled to get out in the suck-ass weather to come to a shower.

3. December just sucks. Every weekend is another holiday thing to go to, for work, family, friends, etc. Plus the stress of buying gifts and baking pies and what-not. I don't want to do that to my friends and family, so December is out.

4. Since we are waiting until the shower to find out the sex, I don't want to wait too long!

5. November 15th is perfect! One of my BFFs who is moving out of state (tomorrow in fact) will be back in town that weekend anyway. I really want her to be at the shower since she has been there for me through the miscarriage and this pregnancy.

So we planned it for Sunday, November 15th. Josh has to work that day until 2:30, so we planned it for 3:30. My sister scoured venues, planned the menu, and had the most adorable invitations made that look like airplane tickets (we have a theme). Everything was going perfectly...

Then I received the information last Saturday that my sister-in-law wanted to have her twin boys' birthday party that day. Their birthday is earlier that week, and they don't want to have it Saturday because of- wait for it-college football. We obviously would be inviting most all the same people from Josh's side of the family. My sister had already sent out invites, so I assumed my SIL would change the date. WRONG! She promptly hand-delivered her invites so they would beat mine. She said that the family "would just have to choose" and refused to change her date. The time is even the same, across town, so family can't make it to both.


Sunday, October 25, 2009

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Yes, but are you sure there's a baby in there?

I still am not convinced that I am pregnant. I am 16 weeks, and have a very obvious baby bump. My breasts have grown to the size of large cantaloupes. I have heartburn so wicked everynight, that I keep a jumbo size bottle of TUMS on my nightstand. My ass is huge. (OK, that is not necessarily a pregnancy symptom. It was always pretty good sized) Just this morning I heard the heartbeat with my doppler. Still...

I totally don't feel pregnant. I am trying to remember my previous pregnancies, and the feelings I had. I remember being scared, and unsure. I remember being a little pissed that I couldn't smoke anymore. I know I couldn't wait to start showing. But I am sure that I felt pregnant.

Maybe it is a psychosomatic thing, where I am subconciously detaching from the pregnancy for fear of experiencing another loss. Maybe I have become more impatient as I have gotten older. I mean, I hate standing in lines or waiting in traffic, how did you think I would fare waiting 3/4 of a year for another human being? It irritates me to have to wait for my 10-year-old to tie his shoes before we leave for the store. This one is no doubt trying my patience by waiting 16 FREAKING WEEKS to even wiggle a toe.

Or maybe I am just exhausted. I'm not 21 anymore. I am admittedly a little nervous about starting all over again with a newborn. I may not remember much about my pregnancies, but I remember the exhaustion after they were born. The sleepless nights. The constant crying. The cracked and bleeding nipples. It was really, really hard. Really.

So hopefully once this little one starts to wiggle around, I will bond a little more with it. Maybe I will start to feel that mother connection that makes the lack of sleep and spit up stains worthwhile. I will fall in love with this child the way I did with my boys.

So get with it, punk. *pokes belly*

Monday, August 31, 2009

What's in a name?

The unfortunate thing about the 1st trimester is that you really don't have much to do babywise. You don't need to go maternity clothes shopping (even though I did), you don't need to rush out and buy a crib and car seat (which I did), and you shouldn't paint the baby's room until you know the sex (yep, you guessed it, I did that too). You don't know the sex, you can't feel any kicks yet, and chances are you read What To Expect When You're Expecting (and the 17 other baby books you bought) cover to cover by week 7. There is nothing left to do except wait. Oh, and one little other minor detail of, you know, deciding what to call the little rugrat for the rest of its life...

For some people, it is an easy task. Some people don't care about the popularity of a name and go with Ava and Aiden. Bam, done. Some people have important persons in their family to honor, so they go with James Michael Rockefeller III and Evelyn Rosa Maria. Bam, done. Some people have had them picked out since they were 7 (Tiffany Amber and Jason Kirk) or they simply pick a favorite TV show character (Callie, Addison, Emma, Eva) and Bam, done. A lot of people just jump on the celebrity naming bandwagon and go with Maddox and Violet. But most people spend a great deal of time agonizing over the name.

What I don't understand is the major significance of the middle name and how it "flows". How many times in your life do you use your middle name? I think the most recent time I used mine was on Date #3 with my husband. Over chinese food he turned to me and said, "What's your middle name?" I replied, through a mouthful of Spicy Garlic Chicken, "Alysia." Seriously. That was the last time I even pondered my middle name.

People also get all bent out of shape over the initials. They don't want it to spell or signify anything.

"You can't name the middle name that, the initials will be PMS! Do you want her to go through life with the initials PMS??"

Are there a lot of people walking around with their initials embroidered on their jacket? When was the last time you got monogrammed towels? Do you care that much what your initials are? I have been blessed with the initials CAB for the past 31 years, and I have never lost a wink of sleep.

Even if you throw caution to the wind on these two points, you still have to come up with the "perfect" name. One that is cute, but they can still use as an adult. One that does not offer up any unpleasant nicknames. One that is meaningful. And then you find a name you like, look it up online, and find that it is #33 on the most popular names list. Well crap, I don't want my child to be like all the Jennifers and Jasons of my generation and have to use the first letter of their last name on everything. Scrap that one! But I also don't want something weird and made up sounding, or worse, something spelled "creatively" so that they have to spell it everytime they introduce themselves.

GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *bangs head on desk*

Right now, I got Iris. I also like Lydia. Please don't ask me anything else about the name.

Friday, August 21, 2009

The longest 3 months of my life

I'm 12 weeks! Supposedly I can relax and not worry now. That is probably easier to do when you are not completely insane (please reference the title of the blog). I had a mini freak out yesterday and raced home to my doppler. It took me 10 minutes to find the little bugger. The whole time, awful thoughts raced through my head. When did I become so paranoid?

I babysat my 4-year-old niece last night. This sweet little only child is a home-schooled vegan adopted from Guatemala and being raised by her lesbian mommies. She has one mom who is a doctor, and one mom who stays at home with her. She is not...spoiled...but she is definitely used to being the center of the universe.

Watching her made me freak out about having another child. I am used to my Thursday nights spent with my 10-year-old, relaxing and eating Bacon Cheeseburger pizza while watching old Seinfeld or Arrested Development episodes, NOT eating Boca chicken fingers and watching Backyardigans. I like my Thursday nights, I like my alone time. I won't have anymore of those things come March.

My niece also has no sense of urgency, as my sister generally does not have a need to be anywhere at any specific time. Going anywhere with this child was an act of Congress. She insisted on doing everything herself, which took 10 minutes for each activity as simple as getting out of the car. She walked at a snail's pace, and stopped every 3 feet to look at something on the ground, in the sky, on display, etc. When I politely requested that she put a little hustle into it, she asked "Whyyyyyy?"

The little darling has a problem with anyone as an authority figure who is not her mommy or mama. As we checked out of the store, she spotted some gummy worms. She said she wanted them, and I said "Not today". She looked at me firmly and said, "My mommy lets me have them!", to which I replied sweetly, "Well I'm not your mommy." Still insistent on those gummy worms, my niece yells out "That's not fair!"

I turned to her (while the cashier watched with a slight smile on her lips) and snapped, "Yeah, well the fair only comes to town once a year, kiddo."

That shut her up.

I am hoping my lack of patience has more to do with my hormones than with my disinterest in starting over as a parent.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

My cravings don't have a season!

Last night I was still dreaming of Pumpkin and Goat Cheese Croquettes, so I decided to make them at home. I found a recipe online, and headed out to HyVee to gather up the necessary ingrediants.

Fresh Sage. Check.

Fresh Thyme. Check.

Goat Cheese. Check.

Bread Crumbs. Check.

Eggs. Check.

Pumpkin....pumpkin...pumpkin...WHERE THE HELL IS THE PUMPKIN?!?

I asked an associate, who gave me a blank look as if to say, "Lady, it ain't Thanksgiving yet". Why is Thanksgiving the only acceptable time to buy canned pumpkin? Who decided that pumpkin shall only be used for pie, and that shall only be eaten in late November? Not a pregnant lady, that's for sure. My cravings don't know what month it is, they are like the T1000! They have one mission, and will destroy anyone who gets in the way of said mission!

The associate hailed down a manager, who promptly told me the past two seasons have been wet, which apparently is not conducive to the growth of pumpkins, so there is a "pumpkin shortage". She said Libby's has decided to hold all of their pumpkin until the holiday season.

"If you can find pumpkin anywhere in the city, I'll be surprised."

My head starts reeling. A pumpkin shortage? How many pumpkins did we carve last year? Three? That would have made at least 5 cans of Libby's puree! Every house on my block had at least two pumpkins sitting outside, spooky faces carved and candles burning inside. They sat there until the faces became saggy and wilted like an old man and were thrown in the garbage, or until the neighborhood teenagers smashed them on the pavement. All that beautiful orange fruit (veggie?) sprayed all over the sidewalk! Wasted! What kind of society do we live in where we take precious food that is in short supply, carve it up for decoration, and then smash it all over the place? No wonder the rest of the world hates America.

So I am still on a hunt for canned pumpkin. These damn T1000 cravings.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Mmmmm...that sounds good....

All I can think about is food. I am seriously pricing plane tickets to New York because at this one restaurant, Casa Mono, I fell in love with their Pumpkin and goat cheese croquettes. And their foie gras is to die for.

There was also this little french bistro downtown where I had an assortment of breads and cheeses, many of which I am no longer allowed to indulge in.

One time, I went to SoHo and had some of the best pizza I have ever had in my life. It was drizzled with white truffle oil. Real white truffle oil, not the fake stuff they try to pass off in KC.

The next morning, we went to the Village to have La Quiche de Espinardes at another french restaurant. It was absolute heaven. So good, in fact, that I didn't mind being squeezed in between the coat rack and the door that opened every 30 seconds, allowing a gust of January breeze in.

There is also this tiny place right down from Washington Square Park called Snack. They have some soup, I don't know what it is, but I tasted lemon and chicken, and I still dream of it. I also had this carp roe dip called taramosalata, on little toasted crusty bread. Yum...

And don't even get me started on the lobster ceviche at Sushi Samba...

I know that I am a Kansas City girl. I am NOT a fancy NYC diva. I don't wear Cartier jewelry, I don't own anything from Prada. And my theory on handbags? I should not spend more on a purse than I am able to actually put in it at any given time. But I really think when it comes to my palate, I belong in New York. They have all the best restaurants, and you could eat out every night for 3 years and not eat teh same thing twice.

If I win the lottery, I will be the person who blows $20 million on dining out.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

What to Expect When You're Crazy

Anyone else think it is bullshit how they scare the crap out of pregnant women? I mean, as if we don't obsess and analyze every little pain or cramp as it is! It used to just be that damn What To Expect When You're Expecting book that told us every tiny little thing that could go wrong. Now we have an internet database full of shit that could go wrong when you're pregnant. I constantly look up symptoms to see if they are related to miscarriage, cancer, death, etc.

Dizziness, feeling light-headed. A common symptom during pregnancy. Could also be a sign of low iron or anemia. See also low-lying placenta. See also placental abruption. See also ectopic pregnancy.

So it could be normal, or I could be dying. Whichever.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Holy hCG numbers, Batman!

I had my 2nd blood draw yesterday morning, and I got the results back today. 780, woohoo! My first was 93, so I am progessing. More to come later, at my sons t-ball game now!

Monday, June 29, 2009

Guess what? You got knocked up

It's official. I'm knocked up. Again.

Does everyone have that image of how you think things will happen when you get pregnant? The excitement of getting the call from your doctor, figuring out a creative way to tell your husband, your mom sharing tears of joy with you, lovingly decorating the nursery in the gender neutral, lambs and bunnies theme from page twenty-seven of the Pottery Barn Kids catalog...yeah, none of that ever happened to me.

The first time I ever peed on a stick, I was 17 and a senior in high school. I was sitting on the can in the Osco bathroom, praying that there was only one pink line. They don't show that image in the EPT commercials. They always show the happy couple embracing after they wait the allotted 3 minutes before walking into the bathroom and finding two perfect little lines. There is no sobbing teenager bargaining with God that she will be more careful if he will just make her NOT pregnant. No dejected 31-year-old angrily throwing the pee stick across the bathroom after getting ANOTHER negative. No couple examining the results window with a magnifying glass trying to decipher a second line.

This blog is dedicated to those stories. The less-than-perfect pregnancy and parenting moments that will never make it onto the pages of Parents magazine. Messy, gross, crass, and completely hilarious.

Welcome to my world.