28 february 2006

Look at the haul I pulled in at the shower on Sunday!



Luckily there are a lot of people who love either me, Dave, or the baby (or a combination of the aforementioned!) and we do not need a thing for this child. The registries are just about cleared except for some things that can only be bought online and some baby toiletries and my house looks like Babies'R'Us threw up in there. As we get things set up, I'll be sure to take some pictures and share how despite my best attempts, my house is not my own anymore.

I will have more pictures from the shower soon. My battery died somewhere in the middle of the unwrapping and all the people pictures are on other people's cameras, waiting to be emailed to me. I'll probably post them on So Big! as they come in. Until then, here is one of me with the grandmothers and me with Aunt Lynn and Uncle Mikey. Doesn't calling them that make the four of them sound a bit older?


Can you believe that I actually look almost nine months pregnant in the one with my moms!? I'm so proud! Sure, it is really just due to the ballooning effect of maternity wear, but at least I can wear a real maternity shirt now!

Now begins what is clearly the sit and wait period of pregnancy. My "due month" starts in just two weeks, and will hopefully end naturally before the hospital will take the baby on April 18th. Turns out, that when the doctor takes the baby, he usually gives it right back. Clearly not the same as when your mother takes the baby and you get to go to the beach for the weekend. Dammit.

Jake and I had a pretty strange last couple days. He decided to turn himself around so he is now facing my left toward the front instead of my right. This gives my right kidney a well deserved break from his foot, but now new things are in peril, and sometimes both feet stick out of my belly at the same time. This was not a painless process, and hopefully he is comfortable now, because I need a break. I think he is still head down. If not, that sucks. Nothing like a breech baby to ruin your day. Without his back against my stomach, my belly feels softer than it did before, which is strange, but I'm sure he'll fill it right out again in a couple days. I guess he is getting ready to drop into the pelvis, which means that I will be making very frequent trips to the loo. We only have one bathroom at the house, not including the emergency utility sinks. This will be a fun month.
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The baby's growth is still going and many women notice a drop when the baby shifts into the pelvis. The baby almost always settles into the pelvis in a head down position. The baby's arms and legs are growing and getting longer.
Other changes that are happening:
A baby delivered now will lose weight because it has not fully developed its digestive system. It has, however, stored fat in the event of an early birth to survive the ordeal.
By weeks 36-40 your lungs capture 15-20% more oxygen.
Baby's Size and Weight this week:
Size: 13.25 inches (head to rump)
20.25 inches (head to toes)
Weight: 5.5 lbs

40 days and 40 nights left, give or take a few

Ever wonder why certain numbers seem to permeate our being? Oh come on, it can't just be me wondering why seven is so lucky, but it also causes a horrible itch in married couples. Is three really a magic number? Are eights really crazy? Why do cats have nine lives and a stitch in time saves nine, and yes, one is indeed the loneliest number at four o'clock in the morning when you are awake all by yourself thinking about these things.

The number forty is etched upon most of us. I figure this was all because Moses spent forty long ones on the mount and Jesus served forty in the desert. Please do not confuse this with the 40s that were served at the afterparty with a nice bucket of fried chicken and a side of slaw! Or maybe it was wine and fish and bread? Either way, that must have been one huge party. The desert is rough after 40 minutes, just ask a penguin .

After doing a little independent internet research, much to my enjoyment I found the number forty has been deeply ingrained in spirituality and science since the beginning of mathkind. Luckily there are other math and theory dorks out there who did most of the work for me, so this information was pretty easy to research, so here goes hours of useless research crammed into a few short sentences. Before the seven day week, twelve month calendar that we follow now, ancient astronomers and calendar makers based the passing of time on a forty day period and nine solar cycles based on the passing of four seasons. In fact, a nine year span of our Julian calendar can still be broken into these same 40 day periods, with respect to the leap years that occur every four years. Neat, huh? There are monuments that are dedicated to this 40/9 concept, including Stonehenge and ruins found in present day Mexico, Middle East, and Africa. No matter where you were in the ancient civilized world, the end of each forty day period was marked by a cleansing and rebirth. At the end of the nine year cycles, there is usually a period of larger rebirth or renewal, which is recorded in many religions and belief systems. Based on what I read online, it seems that most historians and religious scholars believe that most religious texts (the Koran, Bible, and Torah, to name just a few)as well as Celtic, Greek, and Norse mythology was written in accordance to this time keeping method, forever impressing these numbers and their factors into our Judeo Christian Greco Roman influenced culture.

Nerdy, I know, but I was really excited about all this. I love tying my world together through math and science. It makes me feel well rounded. And since I look pretty well rounded, it is a nice match. So, forty days from now when I will be cleansed of this child after nine months of carrying him, we can all look back on this lesson and smile.

You just been skoold.

21 february 2006

Six weeks from the latest of the due dates! I have given up on the whole due date thing entirely, but am using the latest one just so I don't get impatient when I pass the first two. A big congrats to Amy Jo, who had her little boy on Monday. Welcome to life Sam!

I'm still feeling pretty good, but the list of Foods I Can Tolerate is shrinking fast. Sweet is out again, as I get a horrible sugar rush that ends in sweating and nausea. Salt gives me a headache. Spicy or acidic brings the worst heartburn imaginable to man. This is actual stomach-acid-in-the-mouth burning, and spitting it out sears my lips. Foods that smell like eggs, fish, or feet should never be consumed by humans anyway- I truly believe in the primal theory that we are given a sense of smell to avoid putting stink in our mouths. Meat and I aren't great friends to begin with. Fried is over. Fruit is done. Veggies other than carrots and peas either smell funny to me or give me gas, which I will spare you a description of. Even my beloved peanut butter is a bearer of indigestion. I'm down to cereal, Carnation Instant Breakfast, mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, buttered noodles, and frozen peas'n'carrots. Good thing I'm not one of those hungry pregnant girls, or I'd be crying. Plus, who can complain when they are on a steady diet of things they truly love? Atkins be damned, pass the macaroni!

I still don't have any baby furniture, but I guess I'm not really expecting it until March 18th. I'm not too worried about it, since the baby will probably sleep in a bassinet for the first few weeks anyway. It would be nice to have a place to put the shower gifts next weekend, but that will have to wait.

I would like to apologize to those who seem a little irate that there are no toys or clothes or other cutesy baby junk on the registry, but I really don't want a bunch of crap all over my house. I'm having a baby, not a toddler, so I don't need eighty activity centers, potty chairs, or tons of stuffed animals. That is what birthdays are for. And this kid will be born in Spring- he will be living in sleepers and onesies until Fall, no need for itty bitty corduroys and button down shirts, unless they are not so itty or bitty, and sized for 6 mos to 1 yr. Plus, there is nothing worse than baby laundry piling up. There are two reasons it gets dirty 1)puke 2)poop. You don't want that stuff sitting around the house, and I know that if I have something clean to put this baby in, I'll have an excuse to put the laundry off. That is the reason why I only have ten days worth of socks and underwear. Because of the piling up, not because of puke or poop. Knock on wood.
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From this point on your baby has the level of development necessary to survive outside the womb. The baby's eyes are opening and closing in conjunction with its activity and resting periods. The eyes are nearly fully developed but will require a few weeks exposure to light to complete the pigmentation process. Over the final weeks of pregnancy, in anticipation of blood loss with the birthing process, your blood volume will add 2-4 pounds of weight to your body.
Other changes that are happening:
The baby is developing its own immune system to fight mild infections.
The baby's fingernails will reach the end of the finger tips this week.
Baby's Size and Weight this week:
Size: 12.75 inches (head to rump)
19.75 inches (head to toes)
Weight: 5 lbs

still incubating

Based on the number of calls and emails I have gotten this morning, I thought I would post and let you know that Jake is staying put, and the contractions are hours apart rather than minutes. They really slowed down Saturday, and now I only have about 3 or 4 a day. Perfectly normal.

I sat the boy down on Friday and gave him a long talking to about how much I have to do between now and at least St. Pat's Day, and I can't have him interfering with more than a good kick to the kidney now and then.

reason #3b to wear clean underwear

Not to be confused with #3a- in case of a car accident.

Remember when L&D stood for Lora and Dave? Not anymore! It stands for Labor and Delivery, where I got to spend almost three hours last night after a routine doctors appointment.

Since Tuesday I have been having some mild contractions about every 10 to 15 minutes. No big deal, I thought, and tried to cure them with water and walking, the panacea for pregnancy. Yesterday morning I noticed some blood coming out of the last place you want to see blood coming out of when you are pregnant. Then came what is known to the OBGYN labor sect as "loose stools" and a "thick silicone like discharge". Faantasstic.

I went to my regularly scheduled doctor's visit, asked him to see what the barn door looked like, and proceeded to pass out as I lay bleeding from my cancer-ridden decrepit cervix, which looks like this. (Go ahead and look, it is a joke, not a study in anatomy) Those of you who know me know that I am required to pass out at least on a quarterly basis, and it hasn't happened for several months. Probably since my last biopsy. I was due.

Twenty minutes later Dave has to cancel his much anticipated happy hour plans, and I find myself in the Perinatal Evaluation and Treatment Unit hooked up to a monitor, wearing an open hospital gown and underwear that has seen better days. As you can see in the picture below, my rear end hangs out of the bottom of anything I wear, my newly aquired upper-butt hangs out of the top (can anyone say ass-baby?), and everything else just sort of makes its way around the elastic. And these are underwear in which I am comfortable having a picture taken. You can imagine what my secret stash looks like. Luckily I'm not modest, but would have been nice to not be wearing raggety gran-pans in a garment that leaves nothing to the imagination as you walk away.


Long story longer, they sent me home with instructions to come back if the contractions get stronger or closer together (they were about 8 minutes apart at the hospital) or I started bleeding an alarming amount, as if this was advice I need from a doctor because I have no common sense. The nice thing is that there is no reason to worry at this stage of the game, I am officially half way through my eighth month. This baby is ready for the world. But is the world ready for this baby? I doubt it. His mother and father are hardly prepared.

14 february 2006

This last week actually went by quickly, which makes it the first fast week since July when time seems to have slowed to a crawl. To quote the Righeous Brothers, "time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much". In this case, time has done much to make me grow. I will put a picture up later this week, as this week marks the mid point of my eighth month. I don't know what genius doctor came up with the breakdown of 40 weeks into nine months of pregnancy, and why he thought to make some months 35 days and some only 28, but this is one of the long ones. And it is February. Go figure. The ninth month is only four weeks long though, I guess to make up for the fact that babies have a habit of coming late, sometimes well into the tenth month. Fabulous.

Speaking of fabulous, I have outgrown most of the clothes that I was hoping to stretch through the duration of pregnancy. I got to spend some quality time at Old Navy last weekend, buying more maternity clothes. I like to say the "L" on the tag stands for "Lora". The problem with Old Navy is that their sizes aren't consistent. A small could be huge and a large could be tiny. I think that they are making an attempt at vanity sizing, but they don't seem to get it. So, when you like a shirt, you need to grab at least two sizes, much to the chagrin of the guy in the fitting room who may eventually have to deal with your discards.
Before all this, I made my weekly pilgrimage to Target, where I bought a bag (yes, I buy them in bags) of underpants. They are ugly. They are huge. They are white. They have fruit on the waistband. They are made with cotton and what can only be described as reinforced elastic. They are never to be seen by Dave. They are... too small. I put them in the drawer full of post partum clothes, which are the smallest maternity clothes I own which I will wear again for a few weeks after birthing the boy.

Then, on top of all this, I come home to get the mail and what is awaiting me? A Lane Bryant coupon that is addressed to me and says, and I quote, "celebrate your new shape!". What pregnancy magazine had the gall to sell my name to Lane Bryant? I know I may need some expanded sizes for a little while, but I don't need a coupon that instructs me to revel in the fact while taking 15% off all regular priced merchandise. What a thing to do to a pregnant girl. And for those keeping track (I know who you are, and I completely understand) I am weighing in at 152, so I expect to top out at 160 or so. We'll see how the next five to nine weeks go.
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The baby continues to grow at an amazing rate of development. The baby may be sucking its fingers and thumbs, preparing for the process of breast feeding. Your baby is making its greatest demands for protein and fat in the later stages of pregnancy so your nutrition is, as always, very important to your pregnancy and the baby.
Other changes that are happening:
The volume of amniotic fluid has reached its maximum amount. You will have 2-6 cups of this fluid by the time the baby is born.
Your breasts may now be going through a great deal of change preparing for the newborn.
Baby's Size (head to rump) this week: 12 inches
19.5 inches (head to toes)
Weight: 4.5 lbs
The baby's size is the length of a ruler.

something fishy this way comes

It is widely known that pregnant girls have some of the most racy, bizarre dreams. What I didn't know until becoming pregnant and talking to other people who have been, is that many of these dreams involve fish and water. I remember the day after I told my mother I was pregnant, she dreamt that the yard across from her parent's house (the same house where I puked due to having long finger nails) turned into a stream and there were tons of fish swimming around in there, and she was excited to have her first "pregnancy dream" since my brother was in utero. I figured, as I have hundreds of thousands of times before that my mother is an absolute nut, and forgot about it for about five months, until my dreams were swimming with the fishes on a nightly basis.

Over the past few months other people's mothers began asking if I have been dreaming about fish. Once I started to actually look pregnant, which was about three hours ago, random people started asking me if I was having the fish dreams, and I thought (and you can quote me on this)"my mom may not be completely wacked out". Wow.
My favorite part of all this, and the reason why I am sharing this with you is that people try to decipher these dreams. The explanations can be grouped into three general classes of nonsense:
1) Religious. The fish is God's symbol of how much he loves you, and he is teaching you to be flexible and strong, despite the upstream battle that lies ahead. Yada Yada Yada, pray more and seek the Lord.
2) Vulgar. The fish is often associated with female genitalia, and yours is in overdrive. And from an Italian lady at the supermarket, and yes, she sounded just like Fran Dresher, "Pesce is Italian for fish, and pesca is Italian for peach. And you know what a fuzzy little peach looks like". Yes, like your upper lip. Blah blah blah, fishy vagina.
3) Psychic transference. These aren't your dreams, they are the baby's. Because he is swimming like a fish and you can read his mind because you are connected. Crazy crazy crazy, my baby is a merman, who somehow has an idea of what fish are. (A variation on this is that Jake will be born early, under the sign of Pisces). There are some other ideas out there, but they are way out there.

A google search on the subject yields this and this and more, check it out if you are interested.

There is a fish in almost all of my dreams, from little baby goldfish to me actually being a fish, and the most boring of them all, when I was punished at a M family reunion and I had to leave the picnic and clean exactly one hundred mackeral. It was painstaking and boring, and I vividly remember each fish, from one to ninety four. Then my alarm went off, saving me from half a dozen fish that had been sitting in the sun for hours. Last night I dreamt that my mom and I went to see a band called Afterlife, and their promo posters had fish all over it. We expected a Christian band who somehow tolerated smoky dive bar venues, but it turned out that it was a bluegrass band who worshipped King Neptune, and believed that they would live under the sea after they died. I may be on to something here. L. Ron, David Koresh, and Marshall Applewhite, watch out.

a picture says one word- alienbaby

As you probably know by now, the 3D ultrasound picture of Jake is horrifying, and I have tucked it away so we can make fun of him with it in a few years. I would do the same for you if I had an ugly picture of you, so I don't want to hear any complaints, dear reader. So, for the masses who have been clamoring for a sneak peek of the baby, here is the next best thing.

Those who have seen Dave know that there is a real possibility of his offspring resembling a Monchichi. Those who have not seen him, please visit my other blog here.
And be patient, soon enough you can see the baby, and I'll even let you poke at him too. Although he probably won't make the same Pillsbury giggle that I make when you poke at him now.

jake's mom is such a dork

My cat Tyler loves the bathtub. When it is empty. Last night I was de-chlorinating myself after my aqua boot camp class and Tyler was sitting on the edge of the tub, peering through the shower curtain and marveling at how brave I was to be standing in running water. I could tell by her crying that she was equally distressed about my safety in such a hostile environment and about when I would be done so she could play in the tub and drink the left over water. To calm her and keep her entertained until it was her turn to get in, I sang her a rendition of the Chicken Dance Song, all in meows. Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow, Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow, and shake your rump, Meow Meow Meow Meow. You get the picture. About six or seven verses in, as the song got faster and faster and I was shaking my backside and bringing my fat self down to rub noses with Tyler by the time I sang the word rump, I realized I am going to be one of those moms, who do the dumbest things in front of the baby just to keep the tears from coming. And I will probably be doing these things in public. Wonderful.

7 february 2006

Remember last week when I said that this pregnancy wasn't so bad physically? Well, I think I got blindsided by a truck sometime between then and now. I am still getting around well, and able to fight the dreaded waddle, but I feel it coming on. My hips are starting to come loose again, and I feel the way I did in my fourth month- like an awkward teenager. All gawky and pimply. I can't get used to the way my legs work, and sometimes they work better moving front to back, and sometimes side to side (hence the waddle). Luckily the pimples are hidden from the world on my back. Sometimes Jake kicks me so hard it brings tears. I have a foot sticking out of my right side every ten minutes, and other people can see it through my shirt. Creepy baby. Getting off the couch is the hardest thing I do each day. And sometimes I oink when I move. Every morning between 8:50 and 9:30 I have a case of morning ICKness- where I feel just plain crappy. Tons of Braxton-Hicks contractions, which make you feel the need to pee. Immediately. Hot flashes and dizziness again, but this time my heartrate doesn't go out of control, which is an improvement. And like clockwork at 9:31 it stops and I am back to freezing cold. It is 9:32 now and I am considering using my scarf as a blanket. By the time I get home after work or the gym, I'm ready to crash. It is a lot of fun, but there are only eight weeks left. Or seven. Or six. Or ten. Depending what date you want to use. All I know for sure is that if this baby isn't out by 4/18, I will be induced. I am excited to get this baby out, but I have to admit, at the end of the day I actually like being pregnant and it will be a little sad after it is over. Don't tell anyone I just came clean with that. No one.

I don't think I mentioned it, but we got the carpet installed last week. With the new ceiling and the carpet, Jake has the nicest room in the house. There are great floors downstairs, but also a 100 year old plaster ceiling that doesn't look a day over 85. Our kitchen has a nice ceiling, but the floor is made of stickers. The pelican room has an awesome beadboard ceiling and slate floors, but it isn't called the pelican room for nothing. The bathroom, as green as the tile is, has a nice floor and a nice ceiling, but you know what goes on in there. This kid is really lucking out. Hopefully there will be furniture in there in a few weeks.

Thanks to my dad and Kathy, Dave and I are total techies now. We have a camcorder, which rocks. I can't wait to make movies once the baby is born. I will be like Sophia Coppola without the legacy and backyard winery, and thankfully without the requirement to see Nicholas Cage during the holidays. I'll be Ron Howard without the red hair, childhood fame, adult success, and complete geekiness. I'll be just like Roman Polanski without the the unfortunate ties to the holocaust, Manson Family, Rosemary's Baby, and of course the criminal charges. The M's are so high tech that I am considering his and her Palm Pilots. We'll see. And also in the world of scientific advancement, you will notice that there is now a guestbook listed under my profile in the upper left hand corner of the page. Sign in! Let me know who you are and where you are from. I am eager to see just how far reaching this blog is.

Speaking of seeing, here is a peek at what Jake is up to. Not much other than growing is going on. Through the magic of science and radiology, I got to see the baby this afternoon at an ultrasound. He is measuring right in the 50th percentile for his age, which means he is pretty much a poster child for the 32nd week of pregnancy. The ultrasound tech gave us a 3D ultrasound, which I am very much against because they are icky. Jake's hand is squished up around the left side of his face, which I knew from the infernal digging in my nethers, and it smushed his nose up so he kind of resembles Jamie Farr. He has Dave's eyes, mouth, and nose, and my forehead, which is unfortunate because it is really a fivehead. Huge. Hopefully he inherited Dave's hairline to cover some of that flesh.
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The baby is now able to register information from all five of its senses, but certain senses, like smell, will not be used until outside of the womb when air is breathed. The baby's brain has also increased dramatically in size but is folding in on itself now as part of the development process.
Other changes that are happening:
The baby's pupils are opening and closing now in response to the amount of light.
The baby's toenails will be completely formed by the end of this week.
Baby's Size (head to rump) this week: 11.5 inches
19 inches (head to toes)
Weight: 4 lbs
{Jake is three pounds, 14 ounces of pure brat. The first part according to the radiologist, the second part according to his mother}

i could use a drink or six

I am reduced to the point that walking is exercise. Officially, as of today. Thankfully I live in one of the few American walking cities, and it isn't weird or creepy to wander aimlessly. When it is nice outside, I walk home from work now that the sun doesn't set until 5:30 or so. When it is too cold, I go to the gym, and use an eliptical machine or stationary bike on the days that I am not in the pool. It makes me feel geriatric, but better.
As much as I love my gym, I am faced with a moral quandry whether to remain a member. I joined because of the convenience, amenities (there aren't many pools in Philadelphia), and its ties to and the support it provides within the gay community- a group of people whose rights I am an avid advocate for. Plus, it is nice to go to work out in a place where men don't want to "spot" you and make sure you have a daddy for your baby. It has just been made public that Rob Guzzardi, one of the owners of the gym, has donated several thousand dollars to Rick Santorum's campaign. What?? Any one who has read the Left Behind series should recognize this man as the AntiChrist. Rickolae Carpathia is more like it. It is spelled out for you in the series, people- why is it that the biggest Conservative supporters seem to be the biggest Left Behind fans but no one can see it?! My original theory was that George Bush is really Nicolae, but I think that he is merely the Keymaster, and any day now he will turn into a dog. Just like Louis Tully in Ghostbusters. Don't be surprised if you someday hear the following during a State of the Union Address: "I am waiting for a sign from Gozer the Traveler.~~pause~~ He will come in one of the pre-chosen forms.~~pause and look around~~ During the rectification of the Vuldrini, the traveler came as a large and moving Torg! Then, during the third reconciliation of the last of the McKetrick supplicants, they chose a new form for him: that of a giant Slor! Many Shuvs and Zuuls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of the Slor that day, I can tell you!~~heh, heh!!~~". I mean come on, you can totally picture him saying that! Think of his eyes scrunching up on the words in italics! But, I had a point here before I completely geeked out for a second... Mr. Guzzardi's reasoning for contributing is reportedly because of Santorum's support of Israel. Dead cause. Sorry. Either come up with something better or you lose my $28 per month.

Anywho, whether at the gym or walking home it is nice to have some alone time after work to ponder life's questions, like "is a soccermom born that way or did she evolve into the little beasty that she is?" I was actually thinking that once this baby is old enough to join a team, I hope I am only working part time so I can pick him up at practice and watch his games, and have plenty of time to put some Little Hugs on ice in a big red Coleman and to cut and bag seedless oranges. If I start wearing Keds with capri pants, give me a good shake. If I am wearing a headband, tear it from my head, hard, so I associate pain with headbands. If I have any article of clothing tied around my neck, tie it tighter.

When I got home today from my after work walk, I was going through the weekly advertisements and I saw that it was Baby Week at Walmart. I thought, "I wonder what is on sale?" OH MY GOD. Talk about a breech of morals! This place is the Door to Hell, assuring damnation for all who pass through. At least one person dies violently at the hands of another there on Black Friday each and every year in this country. Gunshots rain freely in the parking lots all over America. McDonald's is INSIDE of this store. Do you know what goes on in upper level management at this company? Do you know what trickles down to the worker bees who can't afford to lose this job because they don't qualify for anything else? They are the ConAgra of the retail world, and they try to hide it by refusing to sell music containing swear words and pushing the sales of Nascar gear, Shania Twain, and firearms. And a clothing line by the Olsen Twins. If that doesn't scare you, I admire the very large size of your sack. And the very small size of your soul.

What am I becoming? The monster within is making me a monster without- if left unchecked it could be one that knows what Rollback means when the word is coupled with a yellow smiley face, one that wants to learn how to play croquet and have a yard in which to set it up, one that may want more than a compact car and a garage to put it in. It hurts my heart. And Dave's wallet.

and a disclaimer- these issues, i understand they should be kept within the confines of a nice, dirty bar, not bouncing around in my head and certainly not on my blog. but, i promised you an unadulterated account of pregnancy, and sometimes quiet alone time isn't so silent. the voices inside are so loud... and so is the theme song for the olympics. or is it the national anthem of canada? is it just me, or are they roughly the same song?
this madness is the reason God created happy hour and beer. lots and lots of beer. which can be bought very cheaply on a thursday night in this town. i would be there now if i wasn't in a family way. in fact, less than one year ago, i would not have even thought about rick moranis, or headbands, or hugs, and definitely not marykate and ashley. i would have been having a beer. at a bar. with my friends. eating something fried. sorry if i drove you to drink by conjuring up horrid images of satan and walmart, lawn games and SUVs.

today i feel american

It has happened. Hell hath frozen over. Again. Remember the first time it happened when I got pregnant? That was bizarre, but this is incredulous. The M's have a television in their bedroom. Thanks to the illustrious Jeff Curry (no that's not him, but the resemblance is uncanny if not a bit far fetched), who took the co-habitation plunge. He had an extra tv, we now have media in the boudoir. And it is colossal. The tv didn't fit in our living room entertainment center, landing the largest electrical appliance this side of our enormous fridge about 15 feet away from the bed.
Now I don't dread what the old timers refer to as confinement after the baby is born. That is when you struggle to stay awake to make sure that the baby is breathing and eating and clean, all while you wait for your chassis to heal. Ahh the joys of child birth. Luckily the hospital sends you home with accoutrements of recovery including, but not limited to, ice packs and prescription pain relievers. I can't wait to get wasted and tend to my newborn son with MTV blaring in the background.