What a difference a year makes.
Before having a child, I would be out shopping and I'd see someone with their screaming child and quietly think to myself, "geez, they really have to get a hold of that kid." Now it's a mixture of "I'm glad I'm not there yet" and "more power to ya sista" (of course, meant for the mom inevitably struggling to maintain her sanity in public and not pull out an oozie to threaten her child into submission--not that that would actually work for little Billy since he's seen that trick and knows she won't actually pull the trigger).
Friday, March 31, 2006
Comments
Check this out, THREE entries in one day. That's right, I'm working through lunch.
Anyhow, just realized that people have posted comments. Thanks.... didn't ever realize that was there. So sorry for not responding :)
And to The Girl, I can't believe I'm pregant AGAIN!!
Anyhow, just realized that people have posted comments. Thanks.... didn't ever realize that was there. So sorry for not responding :)
And to The Girl, I can't believe I'm pregant AGAIN!!
Batman
So I've been thinking about finances with this new baby coming. I'm wondering if it's really worth going to cloth diapers. Does it really save that much? I don't know. We buy generic diapers so we're already saving some money. I talked to Dave about it and I'm not sure he'll go for it. He says if we want to save money, we shouldn't go out to eat so much. Fucker. Deprive a pregnant lady of her McD's and he'll find a poopy diaper in between his side of the sheets. *evil grin* Anyway. I know he's right. My habit of eating out is way more costly than the diapers. So as a little backlash for being irritatingly right, I informed him, in complete honesty that I had sex with Batman in my dreams last night. Ha. Beat that. Of course he had to be all "male" about it and ask if it was on the hood of the Batmobile. But still, I win. I did it with a superhero :)
Apologies for offense
Ok, so I was posting my in-case-it-might-offend things elsewhere but I decided that if you're offended, stop reading. This is my blog and if you don't like it or if I say something mean about you, I'm sorry. Consider this like Harriet's diary. Read at your own risk.
So, someone asked me how everyone is reacting to our news about our expected addition. My family seems very excited—taking a it's-their-life-but-at-least-they-are-finding-out-the-sex-this-time-so-we-can-buy-pink-or-blue-stuff approach. Dave's family seems to have said as little as possible. I'm pretty sure they don't approve. I think the actual words from his mom were "so you're a glutton for punishment huh?" Thanks, how supportive. The truth of the matter is that we had figured that once Rhianna was a year old, we wouldn't do anything to prevent getting pregnant again. We'd talked about it and wanted babies close together. Of course, we weren't expecting them THIS close, but in retrospect, I'm not sure I could get pregnant again on purpose anyway. I guess we should have realized that since I wasn't interested in sex for 6 months after having Rhianna and then suddenly was a rabid animal, Mother Nature was telling me something. Regardless, Pregnancy Blows. I can't imagine doing this to my body intentionally. Don't get me wrong, motherhood has it's neato-parts that make up for the smeared-poop and projectile vomit. But pregnancy, for me, is a hormonal roller-coaster marked with vomit, gas and heartburn. I didn't know that the first time, but now I know what I'm in for. Mother nature's best. If Earth actually gave birth, this last year of hurricanes (morning-sickness), volcanos (heartburn), and tsunamis (ridiculous-need-to-poop-at-work) would have been her first trimester.
Nonetheless, getting back on track, no one has said anything judgemental to my face (yet). We'll see what happens when I'm carrying my year-old baby with an obvious baby-belly. We have gotten a lot of the "on purpose?" question and "maybe you'll have a boy so you can be done." To which I like to reply, "uh, or maybe I'll have a girl and be done, or maybe I'll have whatever and NOT be done." That's probaby snobby of me, but I find it presumptuous that having (insert "other" gender here) will signify then end of the procreating processes. Equally offensive is the assumption that we would "keep trying" for a boy? A couple of things, first, we will continue to try for mutual orgasm—that's worth the effort, but there has been no trying-for-baby in our bedroom since September '05. Second, have I mentioned my fear of baby penises? Creating a being with a penis will not, for me, mark any final right of passage or tick-off one of those must-do-before-I-die accomplishments. Sure, I want to run another race before I die (the 3K was great), I also want to not-be-pregnant-for-more-than-8-months, but birthing something with a penis is not a necessary accomplishment for me.
My fear of baby penises has reached a new level as I saw one the other day at daycare. Don't get me wrong, I love little boys—they are just as cute as girls and I can't get enough of those little courduroy outfits that seem to be prolific in the baby-boy wardrobe. But seriously. Are all baby penises that small? There's the giant-baby-scrotum and, I swear, what looked like an "innie" belly-button for a penis. Sure, it'd be easier to clean than a giant baby shlong, but if my baby's got an innie, it better have clitoris as well. Not to mention, this just adds to the likely-to-get-unrine-in-my-mouth fear since the belly-button penis is perfectly tilted so that if anything were to come out, the arc-o-urine would be aimed directly at the face of the diaper-changer.
I say all this and would be equally thrilled to have a boy as a girl. And I'd try not to pass judgement if he has an innie-penis. That said, there's no question that Dave will change all post-circumcision diapers until said proceedure heals. Baby penis is scary enough without adding a raspberry-color to it.
So, someone asked me how everyone is reacting to our news about our expected addition. My family seems very excited—taking a it's-their-life-but-at-least-they-are-finding-out-the-sex-this-time-so-we-can-buy-pink-or-blue-stuff approach. Dave's family seems to have said as little as possible. I'm pretty sure they don't approve. I think the actual words from his mom were "so you're a glutton for punishment huh?" Thanks, how supportive. The truth of the matter is that we had figured that once Rhianna was a year old, we wouldn't do anything to prevent getting pregnant again. We'd talked about it and wanted babies close together. Of course, we weren't expecting them THIS close, but in retrospect, I'm not sure I could get pregnant again on purpose anyway. I guess we should have realized that since I wasn't interested in sex for 6 months after having Rhianna and then suddenly was a rabid animal, Mother Nature was telling me something. Regardless, Pregnancy Blows. I can't imagine doing this to my body intentionally. Don't get me wrong, motherhood has it's neato-parts that make up for the smeared-poop and projectile vomit. But pregnancy, for me, is a hormonal roller-coaster marked with vomit, gas and heartburn. I didn't know that the first time, but now I know what I'm in for. Mother nature's best. If Earth actually gave birth, this last year of hurricanes (morning-sickness), volcanos (heartburn), and tsunamis (ridiculous-need-to-poop-at-work) would have been her first trimester.
Nonetheless, getting back on track, no one has said anything judgemental to my face (yet). We'll see what happens when I'm carrying my year-old baby with an obvious baby-belly. We have gotten a lot of the "on purpose?" question and "maybe you'll have a boy so you can be done." To which I like to reply, "uh, or maybe I'll have a girl and be done, or maybe I'll have whatever and NOT be done." That's probaby snobby of me, but I find it presumptuous that having (insert "other" gender here) will signify then end of the procreating processes. Equally offensive is the assumption that we would "keep trying" for a boy? A couple of things, first, we will continue to try for mutual orgasm—that's worth the effort, but there has been no trying-for-baby in our bedroom since September '05. Second, have I mentioned my fear of baby penises? Creating a being with a penis will not, for me, mark any final right of passage or tick-off one of those must-do-before-I-die accomplishments. Sure, I want to run another race before I die (the 3K was great), I also want to not-be-pregnant-for-more-than-8-months, but birthing something with a penis is not a necessary accomplishment for me.
My fear of baby penises has reached a new level as I saw one the other day at daycare. Don't get me wrong, I love little boys—they are just as cute as girls and I can't get enough of those little courduroy outfits that seem to be prolific in the baby-boy wardrobe. But seriously. Are all baby penises that small? There's the giant-baby-scrotum and, I swear, what looked like an "innie" belly-button for a penis. Sure, it'd be easier to clean than a giant baby shlong, but if my baby's got an innie, it better have clitoris as well. Not to mention, this just adds to the likely-to-get-unrine-in-my-mouth fear since the belly-button penis is perfectly tilted so that if anything were to come out, the arc-o-urine would be aimed directly at the face of the diaper-changer.
I say all this and would be equally thrilled to have a boy as a girl. And I'd try not to pass judgement if he has an innie-penis. That said, there's no question that Dave will change all post-circumcision diapers until said proceedure heals. Baby penis is scary enough without adding a raspberry-color to it.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
I'm getting bitter
Ok. New maternity complaint. Looked at the swimsuits at Target because I refuse to let the reality that I will be fat keep me from taking my then-darling-toddler to the pool :) Anyway, so not only are the mostly in a "I'm 300 years old and wear a hair net to the pool" floral granny print, but, once I got past that, ALL of them have a giant "sexy" hole in between the boobs. Just my luck, my not-so-sexy, post-nursing boob would end up IN the sexy between-the-boob hole and Rhianna would point out, in her very cute toddler voice, "Momma, Titty!!!"
I don't think so. I'll settle for going to the pool in a moomoo, thanks :)
I don't think so. I'll settle for going to the pool in a moomoo, thanks :)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)