I never looked forward to being pregnant. As a matter of fact, I lived in fear of it. But I knew I’d have to power through and recently, I (or we, I guess, if my husband gets credit, although for the last 7 month hasn’t done much to deserve it), pulled the trigger. I have just one question now that I’m 7 months along and literally counting the hours until this child pops herself right out:
WHERE THE HELL IS THE “PREGNANCY GLOW”?!??!
There is no such thing. I can assure you, it doesn’t exist. If by “glow” you mean first being plagued by acne and nausea, mixed in with some rapid weight gain and numbers you’ve never seen your scale hit, topped off with record-breaking gargantuan boobs…then, yes. I am glowing. Add that to being nailed in the bladder every 5 minutes and – lucky me – having a child who is literally ON TOP of my cervix, and you have months of fun and games.
There’s nothing pretty about this. I am thankful that I was able to conceive and am so lucky to be having this lovely little child – but the process getting there? Not cute.
To add insult to injury, pregnancy seems to give everyone and their mother the right to ask completely inappropriate questions and give fully unsolicited advice about everything under the sun. Some of my favorites:
Questions and comments:
- “How much weight have you gained?” – Really? You think I’m going to answer this? Would you ask me this in a normal, everyday scenario? No. No you would not.
- “Can I touch your belly?” – WTF? NO. Can I touch YOUR effing belly? Oh wait, you don’t want me feeling your fat? Well neither do I. Even worse – when they don’t even ask. They just go in for the kill. Lay off.
- “Do your shoes still fit?” – HUH?
- “Are you sure you’re not having twins”? – Really? Yes, I am aware I look huge. I do not need you confirming it by doubting the information my doctor gave me. GFY.
- “Are you sure it’s a girl? Those ultrasounds can be wrooonnnngg you know!” – Oh, sweet! Thanks for giving me one more thing to worry about.
- “It’s because you’re pregnant.” – It doesn’t matter what I say. Whether it’s “I’m hot” or “Yesterday I swear I saw a UFO land in my backyard”, the response is – “It’s because you’re pregnant”. They like to follow that up with “Just wait, it gets worse”. Listen, bitches. Sometimes a girl just sees a UFO. Or gets hot. Or can’t sleep. JUST BECAUSE. Not everything is attributed to my affliction. Also, thanks for the vote of confidence. Glad you’re looking forward to the time when I can be even more miserable!
- “It’s very important to not allow your child to watch TV until they are 3 years old. It’s not good for them”. – Oh, OK. Would you like to purchase my television then? The 60″ one I bought brand new last year? Are you going to keep me updated on the latest in entertainment, news and fashion since I won’t have the luxury of a television? Awesome.
- “Better enjoy your sleep now!” – Wow, thanks. I had NO CLUE babies don’t sleep! That is brand new information. This, along with a slew of all the other horrible things that will befall me once baby is born, enrage me. Why doesn’t anyone ever have something positive to say, like “you will adore having a baby. They are so fun”. No – I get “Your life is over”, “Go out and travel while you can” and “Kiss sleep goodbye”. Sweet, thanks for making an already uncomfortable situation worse.
I could go on forever, and I might, in a later post. I know it’s all worth it in the end (in spite of the above-mentioned misery that will befall me once baby arrives) but really? Time is standing still.
So yeah. I hate being pregnant.
I rarely write a post (REALLY rarely, it seems, since it’s been like, 9 months) about something I love. It’s just not in my nature. I am intrinsically cynical (Thanks Dad)…although I like to think in the best possible way. BUT…I couldn’t resist this post. Now, I get it. This doesn’t sound smart. In fact, it probably makes me sound like a complete airhead to say I love this. But I don’t care! I do. So bring on your comments (including the random who commented on an older post today with the email address email@example.com … classy). I can take it!
I love…love…LOVE the Kardashian sisters and their celebrity trash reality show…for the following reasons:
- They are effing hilarious. I just want to sit down and make prank calls or mock my/their mom with them. All in a loving manner of course. But really, hilarious.
- Brunette beauties – finally! I remember growing up I alllllways used to ask my mom who the pretty, famous brunette/middle eastern girls were. I mean, even my Barbie dolls were blonde…the brunette one was just undesirable. All she ever had for me was Paula Abdul (fail) or this random Victoria’s Secret model that no one knew. I was unconvinced that the “exotic” look of the middle eastern was appealing to americans. Thanks, Kim!
- They don’t care. I mean, seriously…they just don’t care. Sex tapes, obscene jokes, marriages a week after meeting their husband, babies out of wedlock…you name it. They just don’t care…in fact they own it. Bring it!
- Fashion. Gorgeous or ugly, you can’t say they don’t show us some pretty outrageous fashion, hair and makeup. Never a dull moment.
I have a feeling S. and I would fight over the chance to hang out with these ladies. Too bad S. recently blatantly stole my celebrity BFF…Tina Fey. You can have her! I’m taking…all three of these girls! Love it.
This past weekend I took a long weekend trip down to LA. It was a blast and I have never really toured around LA like I did even though I am a SoCal native. I guess it is because I am from San Diego and LA is “a million miles away.” We explored the area (Malibu, Venice Beach, Muscle Beach, Hollywood, Westwood, Bel Air, Beverly Hills, Melrose, etc), went to a professional tennis tournament, stayed at the Standard Hotel and ate the most amazing food! One of my favorite spots was recommended by L! She told me to go to Urth Caffe. It.Was.A.MAZE!!! The smoothie tasted like actual fresh fruit blended. It was not artificial at all. The honey vanilla latte was better than anything I have ever tasted from Starbucks and it didn’t make me have a sugar high/crash. It tasted healthy, real and delicious! I didn’t eat any food items, but everything I saw being served made me salivate. In fact, just writing about this is making me hungry. I HIGHLY recommend it if you’re in the LA area! Thanks, L!
Lately I have been living with a constant headache. This headache is not caused by any physical ailments or illnesses, and it’s not caused from the stress of a job or family drama. This killer headache is caused by the incompetent customer service representatives that keep ruining my day.
Customer “service” – ha! Having just moved into a new home and a new state, I have found myself on the phone with a customer service person almost every day for the past two months. Whether it’s the Massachusetts RMV, which is the most frustrating organization on the face of the planet, or folks at my local utility company, I am amazed at how consistently UNhelpful these individuals are.
In fact, on the RARE occasion I do come across a helpful person, I am overly thankful and I feel like I should do cartwheels around the room.
So, dear customer service people of the world, please be nice to us folks calling for your help. If we are taking the time out of our day to call you, it is because we have a problem. You are paid to help people like me because you are an expert at what you do. So, please stop giving me a constant headache and be nice!
Do you ever use song lyrics to get you out of a funk? to work through something? to celebrate something?
I do this all the time. I love listening to lyrics that speak to my own life and I love this new song Bulletproof by La Roux!
I won’t let you in again,
The messages I’ve tried to send,
My information’s just not going in.
Burning bridges, shore to shore,
I break away from something more,
I’m not to, not to love until it’s cheap.
Been there, done that, messed around
I’m having fun, don’t put me down
I’ll never let you sweep me off my feet.
This time baby I’ll be Bulletproof
I won’t let you turn around,
And tell me now, I’m much too proud
To walk away from something when it’s dead.
Do do do your dirty words
Come out to play when you are hurt?
There’s certain things that should be left unsaid.
Tick tick tick tick on the watch now,
Life’s too short for me to stop –
Oh baby, your time is running out.
I won’t let you turn around,
I’ll tell you now, I’m much too proud,
All you do is fill me up with doubt.
This time baby I’ll be bulletproof.
What do you think? Which lyrics speak to you?
Oh no! I turned on my TV this morning, clicked into my faithful DVR menu and saw TWO, just TWO shows. This was traumatizing as my DVR queue usually never has less than 10 shows waiting for me. I guess it must be time for summer.
Well, the only saving grace in the moment was when I noticed that one of the shows was Real Housewives of New Jersey. I LOVE THIS SHOW. I can’t help it. I am not certain that all of their drama is real, but I still can’t get enough of it. The cat fights, the over the top houses and clothes, and the accents (Oh, how I heart the accents).
I especially love the traditional Italian-isms throughout the show. Nothing was as classic as when Theresa wouldn’t let her friend make their annual tomato sauce if she had her period as to not spoil the food. Gross, yes. Reflective of my childhood, absolutely!
So, while I say g’bye to LOST and Fringe and all the other shows I love and will miss. I am happy that at least on a Monday night I will have my Jersey girls.