Never Promise Crazy A Baby

Paying it forward

2010-08-19T11:34:00.000-07:00

Lately I have really been thinking about the concept of "pay it forward". It started when I went to eat at Ingrediant (mediocre BTW) and they asked that you not tip. Instead, they ask that you hold the door for someone, pet a dog, etc. That got me thinking about our sense of compensation as a society.

When someone buys me lunch, I feel obligated to pay the next time we go to lunch. When my neighbors let me have an egg so I can bake cupcakes (because I inevitably need something when I get the urge to bake) I always bring them some afterwards. I keep mental note of the things people do for me so that I can pay them back at some point. But what if instead of paying them back, I paid it forward? What if I donate Cash's swing (that he NEVER used) to his daycare instead of posting it on Craigslist? Or give my maternity clothes to one of my residents who just found out she is pregnant? What if I helped out someone else, someone who really needed it?

Would the person who bought me lunch feel snubbed? It would be rude of me to not do something to thank my neighbors for helping me out in a pinch. Should I pay it back AND forward? And can't we do things for people without there being some sort of scoreboard to see who is the nicer person?

Birth Story

2010-07-16T13:36:00.000-07:00

The night before, we read over the birth chapter of "What To Expect When You're Expecting". We talked about what would happen, and skipped over the csection part since we wouldn't be needing that. I have had two kids before, and my labors were 8 hours and 4 hours each. I was totally prepared to walk in, push out a baby, and leave!

So we woke up bright and early on Tuesday, March 9th. I hadn't slept much the night before, kind of like waiting for Christmas. So when the alarm went off at 5am, I was ready to go! Bags were packed, kids were at grandma's, we headed off to North Kansas City Hospital.

When we arrived, they asked what I was there for at the front desk. I told them "Baby extraction" :) and we headed up to the 7th floor. The nurses started the IV, asked all the questions, and turned on the pitocin. So we waited. and waited. and waited. My sister showed up, and so did my mother in law and sister in law. We watched old Seinfeld and Arrested Development episodes. A few hours later, they checked me. 100% effaced, 2 cm, -3 station. More waiting. And waiting. And waiting. I walked, I bounced on the birthing ball, I ate popsicles (not to help with labor, just cause I wanted to) and they cranked the pitocin. They checked me again around 5pm. 100% effaced, 3 cm, -3 station. They told me my options were to keep going, go home and come back in the am, or stay the night and try again in the am. Since I had not eaten for almost 20 hours and I was exhausted, I opted to turn off the pit, eat something, stay the night at the hospital, and try again the next morning. I was very disappointed, since we were hoping to meet our little boy that day! But hunger won over disappointment, and I got to eat delicious hospital food! I love hospital food!

March 10th, 2010. Day two, 6am: Second verse, same as the first! Started an IV, cranked the pit, waited. By 10am, there was virtually no change so they attempted to break my water. That did not work, but about 20 minutes I felt the familiar warm sensation like I was peeing and couldn't stop, and I knew my water had broken. I was excited! Once your water breaks, birth is emminent! My nurse, Lesa, was just awesome. She piled the pillows up in the bed so perfectly, I wanted to bring her home! She cheered me on, supported me, and was VERY experienced and knowledgable. I loved her!

The contractions started in pretty bad, but I was managing. We watched more Seinfeld, and I continued to have major contractions every 3 minutes. Around 4:30, they checked me and I was like 4-5cm and still -2!!! He was NOT dropping! They decided to do an epidural, with the hopes that if I relaxed he would come out, and also to prepare for the dreaded "C" Word. They didn't want me to go too long with my water broken, and I was terrified of him having a bowel movement inside of me. My friend Jen's baby had inhaled meconium, and had a rough few weeks at first. Natural childbirth was not worth the risk to my baby's health.

The epidural was weird. It made my leg feel like I had lightning bolts in it! But then it took affect, and it was AMAZING! I wondered why I hadn't had one with my other two kids! What was I thinking???

When they came to check me around 6pm, I was only dilated to a 6, and he really hadn't dropped much. It was time to make the decision. After 2 days of pitocin induced labor, we needed to get the baby out. We started to prep for a c-section.
Josh got dressed up in his blue scrubs, and they prepped the OR. I was a little nervous, I was having major surgery. Plus, this was my biggest fear! I was not prepared! We didn't read the chapter!

They wheeled me into the OR, and started pumping me full of whatever the use to numb you. They tilted the bed right and left and back, and I could feel waves of numbness. Finally I was the appropriate amount of not feeling anything, and they brought Josh in and began. I felt pulling, pushing, pressure from beyond the blue curtain for what felt like forever, and finally, I heard the doctor say, "We have one cheek out! What fat cheeks!", then suctioning, and at last, my baby boy's first cries. 7:47pm. I could feel tears streaming down my face, and I told Josh to go with the baby and leave me. For what seemed like an eternity, I listened to them doing there things, and I wondered and wondered what he looked like.

"8 pounds, 6 ounces!" they called out.
That's big! I thought.
"20.5 inches long!"
That's good, right?
"14 and 3/4 inch head!"
HOLY CRAP! No wonder he wouldn't come out!!!

And finally, they brought him to me. Cash Aubrey Banks Mann. All bundled up in his blanket, with the little white hat. I couldn't hold him because my arms were strapped down, but Josh brought him up to my face and I kissed him and said hello. He was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Well, at least in a three way tie :)

The rest was a blur, them sewing me back up, tyin tubes, and wheeling me into recovery. I got the shakes really bad, and that sucked, and I was SO thirsty. They let me have ice chips here and there when I was good and wiggled my toes. Cash stayed in his isolet next to me, and they gave him to me to nurse. He nursed for like 40 minutes! I just kept looking at him and kissing him and telling him I loved it him. It was wonderful.

Last Day

2010-03-08T05:32:00.000-08:00

Well, Little Cash is 6 days late today. I have been hoping every day that "today would be the day", but alas, nothing. I am scheduled for induction tomorrow at 5am. I am a little sad, because we won't get to have that "OMG its time!" moment. I feel like my cervix is failing me by not dilating, and I'm nervous about bringing home a baby!

So today is officially my last day of being pregnant. I didn't think I would be sad since I have been so miserable this whole pregnancy, but I actually am a little. Not enough to do it again, or even cancel the induction, but enough that I am going to try to stop and smell the flowers (or donuts) today.

D-Day

2010-03-02T07:19:00.000-08:00

Well, today is the official due date. I swear everyone is looking at me like something magical is supposed to happen. A unicorn will appear, and declare it to be Cash's birthday, and then fireworks will come out of my vagina, and a dozen leprechauns will carry the dear child out on a bed of diamonds while fairies hand out ambrosia to everyone.

Or, I will sit here in misery from the heartburn and pee 1,289 times until my doctor's appointment at 4pm, where she will tell me my cervix is still closed up tighter than a clam and the baby is still not engaged and maybe we should look into induction next week.

Nothing magical about that.

Can you be addicted to Tums?

2010-02-25T09:29:00.000-08:00

I was throwing out yet another empty bottle of Tums this morning, and I looked in the (overflowing) trashcan. I noticed that it was the THIRD bottle in the trash. So either I haven't taken the trash in our bedroom out in a really long time, or I have a problem.

Change for Cash

2010-02-23T10:15:00.000-08:00

So, I'm not sure if this is because I am a) crazy b) extremely pregnant or c)totally justified, but I have been changing my mind A LOT lately.

The first thing was about the baby's name. For some reason, I thought about the name Archer, and I fell in love with it. Archer Mann. Holy shit, that's a cool name! I asked Josh, and he agreed it was a pretty friggin cool name. Aw crap! I've been calling this kid Cash, and now I might change my mind with a week to go???

Then I changed my mind about when I want to have him. (*sounds of God laughing that I think I have any say in the matter*) A week ago, I was ready to have him. Get him out, anyway possible. I was taking black cohosh, bouncing on a birth ball, begging Josh for sex, whatever it would take to evict the 7 pound parasite that was making it next to impossible for me to climb a flight of stairs without wheezing like an asthmatic. Now I want him to stay in until March! I don't want a February baby! And I keep postponing it, like March 1st would be ok, but the 3rd would be even better, or the 4th, and the 5th is ideal. I'm actually hoping to go over my due date. WTH is wrong with me?

I have been waivering on all of my decisions. Should I really use cloth diapers? Am I sure I don't want an epidural? Do I cut my hair or grow it out? Should I watch HGTV or Food Network?

Maybe I am just getting overwhelmed at the thought of having another child. I am sure this is totally normal and most pregnant women experience it to some extent. But we have to remember that I am, admittedly, crazy. My mind is always racing right now. Everytime I go to the bathroom, I wait for my water to break. And I have mixed emotions when it doesn't "Whew! Thank God it didn't break!" and "Dammit! When is it going to break???"

Disengaged

2010-02-17T14:23:00.001-08:00

Had my 38 week check up today, and the baby is "not engaged". He apparently is not interested in what is going on out here in the real world, or he is not committed. Either way, it means I'm probably going to be fat, miserable and bitchy for at least 2 more weeks.

Oh shit...

2010-02-12T09:50:00.000-08:00

Last night I started having some more painful contractions. They were irregular, but more painful than Braxton Hicks contractions. I blame myself, since I have been doing pelvic exercises on a birth ball and chasing evening primrose oil with red raspberry tea, laced with black cohosh. Josh was his usual disinterested self at first, but as I started making more, "Ow ow ow ow" sounds, he became slightly concerned and asked if we needed to go to the hospital.

I think that was the exact moment that it finally sank it that I was GOING TO HAVE A BABY. Not someday, not eventually, not some far off intangible time, but REALLY FUCKING SOON!!! I was going to have to go to the hospital, go through hours of unbearable pain, shove a bloody screaming mess of a human out of my vagina, and then take it home and turn it into a responsible member of society.

OH. SHIT.

I'm not ready for this. I mean, yes the nursery is all complete and waiting for a tiny child to make it usable, the car seat is installed, all of the bottles are washed and put away, and everything at work is ready for me to go on maternity leave. But I am not ready. I just got my shit together! Now it's going to be all...untogether, for a good 3 years!!! WTF HAVE I DONE?!?

So ya know what I did? I didn't color my hair. I was going to color my hair last night as the final preparation for birth. It's all I really have left to do, and I figured the little shit was waiting on that to make his grand entrance. So I didn;t do it. As long as I don't color my hair, he can't come out, right?

This makes sense in my pregnant brain.

This baby is going to be born in prison...

2010-02-03T10:17:00.001-08:00

...because I am close to killing someone.

It may be one of the dozens of people who approach me daily and ask the same 5 questions about my baby. Cause of death: In Wal-Mart, with a shopping cart.

It may be my husband, who does not seem to understand that I am a) hormonal and b) exhausted. I am not interested in having an argument over whether or not to have stuffing for dinner. In the study, beaten to death with the XBox he plays incessantly.

Could be my employees, who's brains seem to have fallen right out of their heads and they have forgotten how to do EVERYTHING. So of course, I have to do it, along with all of my crap, while I am a miserable 9 months pregnant. In my office, with a stapler.

Could be my OB, for telling me that I am 36 weeks, not dilated, not effaced, baby's head is high, and he is still posterior. Technically, not the OB's fault, but someone has to pay the price.

No one is safe...

*DISCLAIMER* This is a joke. I am just extremely irritable, and the next 4 weeks are going to be LOOOOONG!

Cash's Room!

2010-01-27T20:00:00.001-08:00

So this is now officially our favorite room in the house! Sometimes we just sit in there and talk!

Ready Freddy

2010-01-26T04:00:00.000-08:00

I am 35 weeks today, but I feel like I'm 40 weeks! I'm ready to meet this little guy! We have had our shower, which was wonderful, and his room is all ready. Everything is bought, washed, painted, installed, and waiting. I am exhausted, can't breathe, my shoes don't fit anymore, and I am just plain ready! I know that he is still probably not ready for at least a couple weeks though.

I started drinking red raspberry leaf tea, and taking evening primrose oil. This is one of those crazy myths that supposedly helps soften your cervix in preparation for birth. We shall see.

Seriously?

2009-10-28T10:14:00.000-07:00

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.

Seriously?

2009-10-25T19:32:00.000-07:00

see more Funny Graphs

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

2009-09-15T08:46:00.000-07:00

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*

What's in a name?

2009-08-31T10:37:00.000-07:00

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.

The longest 3 months of my life

2009-08-21T09:12:00.000-07:00

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.

My cravings don't have a season!

2009-08-04T07:35:00.001-07:00

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.

Mmmmm...that sounds good....

2009-08-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

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.

What to Expect When You're Crazy

2009-07-02T14:11:00.000-07:00

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.

Holy hCG numbers, Batman!

2009-06-30T16:10:00.001-07:00

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!

Guess what? You got knocked up

2009-06-29T11:36:00.000-07:00

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.