Family Visit

We just had a really great weekend, about which I'll talk about later when I have more time, but part of it was my mom and sister were here and I sort of needed a family recharge.  Being around them just makes everything happier.

The other fun part about them being here is that Adeline is IN LOVE with my sister.

 Like, she'll choose her over me any day.  Which I don't take personally because she only sees Becky a few times a year, and when Adeline turns 16 and I ship her off to California for the summer because she cut class and has a horrible tattooed boyfriend I want her to forget about she'll realize her Auntie Becky is a lot more strict than I am, and then she'll be all, "I love you more Mom," on the phone, because she's homesick and I'll be all, "Yeah I know," and then she'll get home and realize I'm her mean mom who gives her curfews and won't let her stupid boyfriend sleep over because she's only 16 and there's no way little missy, not in my house, at least not that I know about, and then she'll call her Auntie and be all, "Auntie Becky I love you more, can I come live with you?" and Becky will be all, "Uh, ask your mom," and Addie will be all, "Damn this revolving door!"

My point is, she loves her family a whole lot, and I love that she loves them because they love her YAY LOVE!

On A Serious Note Ending With Some Not So Serious Notes

Last post I mentioned that I was going to share more about the intimacies of being pregnant.

I was going to put a lot of physical things on there, like vericose veins, and stretch marks, and heart burn, and constipation, and peeing every five minutes, and boobs filling with colostrum 3 months before it's necessary, and weird rashes; but then I thought - who cares.

That's my general attitude right now. Not 'who cares' in a sad way, but 'who cares' in a 'I don't care' sort of a way.  Like, not as strong as 'Go f yourself' I don't care, but more like, 'I just don't care or have the energy to care, not that I'm mad about it I just don't have the energy to feel good or bad about it, I just sort of feel blah about it all' I don't care.

So, that sounds dramatic.  And really, it's not all the time.  I have ups and downs like a normal human, but it's just a little intensified because of the pregnancy hormones.

But everywhere I look and everything I hear is how wonderful, and joyful, and non-stressful everyone's pregnancies are and that made me even more upset because I felt like there was something wrong with me for not being thrilled every five seconds.  And then I realized, after watching a lot of Ellen, and that still not cheering me up, that no - it's not always easy.  And I don't have to be happy all the time, because shit is hard sometimes.

Is it amazing being pregnant, and am I totally grateful and thrilled about it?

Yes.

Absolutely.

No question.

But is it also really freaking hard sometimes?  Hell, yes.  And I wish I had known, I wish someone had said, "Hey sometimes you get depressed when you're pregnant, and have a toddler, and are trying to work full time, and it's the never ending winter of Montana, the winter they talk about coming on Game of Thrones, the winter that lasts seven years, and has weird zombie white walkers, and makes you want to stay in your sweats until the END OF TIME.  And you know what?  It's ok.  Let yourself be sad.  Let yourself feel whatever you're feeling.  Tell someone about it, and I'll bet they'll listen."  Because that might have helped me a little.  It might have been nice to hear someone else went through it too.

And I did tell someone about it. And then I also told my OB and she was so helpful, and so amazing, and she let me cry my stupid hormonal pregnant cry in her office even though she had other patients, and even though I didn't want to hear it, she told me about my options if I end up getting post-partum.

And I'm not there, I don't need it, it's not that bad.  But it's nice to know I have help if I need it.

So, I'm just putting it out there in case someone reading this knows someone who's pregnant, or is pregnant, or might get pregnant one day, or might get someone pregnant one day - don't feel bad if you don't feel spectacular all the time.  You're not alone.

And now I sound like a bad AA meeting from an episode of Magnum P.I. where Magnum is trying to save a rich lady from a stalker who happens to be in AA so he has to go in and pose as an alcoholic, all sexy-like with his mustache, and his face, just being all sexy, and he has to share a made-up story about how he almost ruined his life with the booze and he's so believable because, duh, he's Magnum P.I., his name is MAGNUM people, it doesn't get any more believable than that, and his mustache is all mustache-y and never has food in it, and I bet it doesn't even tickle when he kisses you, it probably makes the whole experience better if we're being honest here, and after he's done sharing his fake AA story the leader of the group says, "You're not alone Magnus," and then Magnum punches him in the face for getting his name wrong - Magnum does not use an alias - but it's such a gentle and discreet punch with his elbow that it doesn't make you angry with Magnum, it makes you want to go over and kiss is sore elbow, look into his dreamy . . .blue? . . . green? . . . brown eyes? who cares when he's got that heavenly 'stache poised and ready to rock your world, upstairs and down, and then suddenly you're making out next to the stale donuts and coffee and the other people are like, "Should we leave?" but they don't, I mean, would you leave if you saw Magnum kissing someone, no, you'd grab a chair and some popcorn, because homeboy has arms like some sort of Greek statue, and they're currently being used to hold himself and his lady friend up on a folding card table without any effort, as if they're just floating in a world of bad snacks and tile floor and lust.

Oh, my gosh.  I suddenly feel a whole lot better.

Yes, I'll take this call while I'm in the ocean.  Wearing my watch. This isn't even a cordless phone, it just works because I will it to.

Anyway, sorry to be so heavy, I just wanted to get it out there and be done with it.  Much like an exorcism of sorts.  I actually do feel better just writing it down.

You know what else always, always, always makes me smile and laugh and have a good day?

Naked baby butts!

And cute riders in the car telling me all about the balloon she's holding.  The balloon she'll soon her father with even though he's driving the car and should probably not be hit whilst driving.  Who cares when she's so adorable!?

You Know You're Pregnant When...

...the plate you were balancing on your (very handy) table-belly goes flying off onto the floor, spraying your (very healthy) nacho dinner all over the floor because the baby in there decided it didn't want to be used as a shelf and kicked the sucker right off.

Also, in unrelated news, Adeline has a new fun thing to do with me.  She always follows me into the bathroom, but apparently she just noticed certain parts because the last week or so she'll walk up to me while I'm sitting there and peer at me for a second before getting a scared look on her face and shaking her hand at my lady parts while saying, "Uh uh. No!"

Nothing boosts your self-esteem like your one and a half year old being afraid of your vagina!

I've tried to tell her she has one too, and they're ok!  Vaginas are good!  But she seems skeptical.

Anyway, she's doing much better now!  No more rash or fever, just back to being cute and causing trouble.

Learning her letters and numbers through osmosis.

Just as a side note, she sees her dad naked a lot too (we are not allowed to go to the bathroom or shower by ourselves), yet she is totally unfazed by his parts.  Again, my self-esteem is through the roof at this point.  Especially because weird things happen down there when you're pregnant.  I'm not gonna go into details but it rhymes with vericose veins ON PLACES IT SHOULDN'T BE thanks to the pressure of a baby.  

I thought about not mentioning that, but then I thought, "Jeeze, I wish people had been a little more honest on their blogs about what being pregnant was like so I didn't think it was all sunshine and daisies."  More on that tomorrow.

For now - here's some pictures of the lady being very Montana-y, and darling.

Cowboy boots on, ready to ride.

\

Early morning ride with her trusty steed, Rody.

Wearing an eagle mask as a hat.  Because real hats are for pansies.  She wears endangered birds!

This is not Addie.  This is a poodle at the winter fair dyed as a flamboyant police officer.

Sad

I don't know if you can tell, but someone is really sick in our house.

Sick and sad.

With a virus.

A virus called Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease.

Uh, WHAT NOW?!  

**cue me freaking out for a few seconds before the doctor can explain to me it's not the same as Hoof and Mouth disease which affects cattle**It's a good thing he stopped me because I was about to further freak out because I don't know what Hoof and Mouth is either but was fairly sure it was akin to Mad Cow Disease or AIDS**

All it means is she has a horrible rash all over her body, and a shitty fever.  And since it's a virus there's nothing to treat it, and I'm all, "Can we have some antibiotics anyway?  And perhaps some other prescription so I can feel good about leaving here?" Because seriously, your daughter has a crazy rash and feels like she's about to burst into flames and your doctor prescribes juice and A LOLLIPOP?  A lollipop?  What are you, Willy Wonka?! GIVE ME SOME DRUGS MAN!!!

But he didn't.  And he also told me to calm down.  So, that happened.

So, I'm too tired to write more about it, but basically a sick kid is the saddest thing ever.  

Sad on day one.

Sadder on day two.

(I look the saddest here because on top of being six months pregnant and having a horribly sick child, we also canceled our cable.  Goodbye fun!)

Three Nine

About three years ago now I packed up my things and moved to Montana of all places.  Before I first came out here all I knew of it was that Andie MacDowell lived here and that she once got a tick stuck in her head.  That was enough to make me never ever want to get near the state.  Like, I didn't even want to visit a state that bordered it in case I'd be attacked my a tick, or Andie MacDowell for that matter.  I like them just about the same.

But I visited, and I fell in love (double entendre!), and I moved here.

Not so much for the state, though it is gorgeous, but more for a particular person.  A person who makes me laugh, and makes me happy, and makes me take walks in horrible weather, and makes me really good chicken, and makes me hope, and makes me watch way too much Pardon the Interruption, and makes me feel good about myself, and makes me laugh some more, and has changed my life forever with the most amazing daughter I could have ever imagined.

And today is his birthday.

So, I just wanted to take a moment to say Happy Birthday, Love.

I will not ask you to turn the TV down today.

You're welcome.

You Know You're Pregnant When...

... you're sitting in front of your computer watching a Christmas episode of Ellen on crazed repeat, even though it's February, where Blake Shelton and Christina Aguilera are singing a song together, and sobbing your eyes out while trying to draw a new wall hanging for your baby, but you can't see because you're crying too hard so the trunk of the elephant you're drawing keeps looking like very inappropriate baby art involving a very curvy dildo attached to a hippo.  Then you start crying more because you do not want to put bad porn-art on your baby's wall, you want cute baby art, but then the song ends and you have to replay it to fill your soul, and suddenly you're crying again, and AGAIN the elephant does not look like an elephant, so you stick a bunch of chocolate Dove caramels in your mouth and repeat the whole process, lip syncing along with with Christina and Blake with a mouth full of chocolate and tears.

*sigh*

What's that?

You want to see the video?  Well, I certainly am not going to deprive you of the joy/heartbreak!







You know how else you know you're pregnant?

When you look like this:

27 Weeks!

Oh yeah, I cut my hair.  Because that's what I do when I'm pregnant.  I cut off all of my hair and then I feel awkward for a year until it grows out.  I don't know what I do that.  It's like self-medicating with  a haircut to ensure I won't feel sexy for a long time, and thus will wait before having another child for a while.  Hair control.

Also, my mom or Josh (I get them confused) thinks it's very weird/possibly unhealthy that I listen to so many sad songs while I'm pregnant.  With Adeline I had Adele and Mumford and Sons on repeat.  With this one I have Adele and Mumford and Sons and Christina Aguilera on repeat.  So at least she's getting a little more variety.

Adeline came out extremely happy, so I am not worried.  Plus happy songs make me feel enraged, whereas melancholy songs make me feel good.  There are some synapses off up on here.

Oh yeah, did I mention it's another girl!!!  I don't think I did!  I've been too busy crying at Youtube!  Baby Girl #2!  

Oh the hormones this house will have!

CAR!

So, I don't know if other moms have this problem, but now that Adeline can walk and thinks she's Miss Independent she REFUSES to ride in the cart at the grocery store.  Like screaming, kicking, makes her body go stiff then limp refuses.  So, basically I end up letting her run around the grocery store yelling "Mama!" and "COOKIE!" until someone brings her back to me.

That's not true, though she does yell those things and people do bring her to me even though I'm always five feet away.  But it makes shopping a reeeeeeally slow process, because while I just wanna get my butter and get out of there, Adeline would like to inspect each and every item, take it off the shelf and then go back a few minutes later to make sure it's still there.

Until I discovered these:

Girlfriend is so in love with the shopping cart car she asks for it all day and all night, and when we pull up to the grocery store her yell of "CAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!" is so deafening I'm pretty sure the baby in my belly is covering her ears.

Same goes for the quarter operated car things at the mall.

And any seat that is different and forward facing, but attached to a cart.

 Real car rides?  Not as thrilling.

Getting her out of the car on the other hand?  That's back to kicking, screaming, I-hate-life kind of tantrums, but at least she's happy during the shopping trip.  I'm tempted to steal one and use it as her stroller because she's starting to put the kibosh on that thing too.  Can you picture it?  Hugely preggo me pushing a clanking, noisy grocery cart down icy roads, collecting things in my cart just because I can?

Well, I can.  I think that might be something for my next post.