I got out of the car at work this morning feeling kind of squirrelly. The…. D’s? Are we the D’s? If Mike is MQD and the baby is Baby D, does that make us the Ds?
That makes it sound like only my tits took a trip to IKEA if I say “The Ds went to Ikea.” And who are we kidding? The DD’s went to Ikea (we are reaching maximum capacity here in PregnantBoobTown. ) Continue reading
Tagged Chuck Taylor's, Converse, Ikea, Pregnancy, Pregnant, Skateboard
It was 6:51 when Fisher’s tail started thwap-thwap-thwap at the end of the bed, the sound that a dog’s tail makes when he is excitedly wagging his tail against the bed from the prone position. “Mom! Did I sleep in? I think I slept in!”
It was about a quarter after seven last night when I felt my eyes get heavy. It didn’t seem fair that I pass out during Friday night movie night, I had picked the movie, Lily Tomlin’s The Incredible Shrinking Woman. But there was no fighting it. MQD woke me a little after eight and I climbed in to bed. Continue reading
We hit a snag on the closing on our house. It happens. We had planned to close several weeks before we needed to move just in case.
My computer at work fried. That happens, too. I had my data backed up because it is always a possibility.
Jer’s grandfather had an emergency surgery yesterday, he pulled through like a champ, but it was quite a scare.
I think there was something else that had me blue. How quickly one forgets… I had a tantrum because MQD “doesn’t like me.” All in all, I had a shit day. Nothing permanent. All things that I had either prepared for, could have predicted or that turned out okay in the end. Continue reading
I was reading back through some of my gloomiest posts and it is interesting (perhaps only to me) to note that even though I am pregnant it seems I am down and blue damn near once ever 28 days. And if my “woe is me” can be tied to some kind of hormonal cycle than so can the rest of my hormone inspired thoughts and desires, right? Consequently making them a product of my chemical make up, fair game for discussion.
I am a firm believer that a romantic relationship with the person who is truly in your heart of hearts your best friend is a good idea. But you have to do the work to make sure that your romantic partner is equal parts best friend and lover, or you slide in to that scary territory of living with a roommate. There are lots of ways to accomplish this, I think. Lots of complicated, time consuming ways. Sexy posing on the bed in the “good” nightgown, not the 15 year old band t-shirt. Try not to bitch and moan about finances and cook a decent meal. Don’t change in to sweatpants as soon as you walk in the door. Shower with the door closed and shave your legs in private and maintain some kind of… what do they call that? mystery? Make an effort to make absolutely zero jokes related to bodily functions. But all of these ways rely on another party noticing you sending out these signals. Continue reading
Fear seems to be a reoccurring theme with me. I’m not sure if the pregnancy induced insomnia makes me crazy on the inside or if it’s just that I have the time to dwell on the crazy I have already got. No reason to spend hours dissecting that question, which came first the insomnia or the worrying. Either way, I don’t sleep lately. I just worry. Continue reading
Excitement on the side 