It’s true that children are simply an incubus of germs waiting to be transferred to the next readily available adult. I’m starting to think of Baby Jake as one of those drive-thru bank tubes, where mother nature, or whomever, places a virus inside of him, pushes a button, and shoots him straight to me.
Come to think of it…it’s not really Jake, it’s me. Somehow, I have managed to produce one of the weakest immune systems for a perfectly healthy individual. So much so that even my general practitioner is baffled and marvels at the number of times I come stumbling in begging for antibiotics (drugs) and other happy pills. Every time I have my blood work done, it comes back perfect. I believe my physician said something to the effect of “I usually expect to see some percentage of allergy or weakness in the immune system, and all of yours say zero percent.” That probably wasn’t an accurate quote, but it’s how accurately I remember it. Anyhow, I exercise, eat relatively well (skip to the next few paragraphs), take vitamins, and am in perfect health... (Actually, THAT’S what she said – no really, it’s what she said – that I am in “perfect health”)...yet somehow, I manage to ALWAYS be sick. I jest that if someone even mentions that they are coming down with something, I will be sure to contract whatever it is the next day, and I’m usually right!
What does this have to do with Jake? Well, for the last week I have been fighting something. It started with a headache, transitioned into low grade fevers, achiness, and then BAM, it hit me suddenly. Jake, in the meantime, has been spitting up, vomiting sporadically, and fought a fever, as well. We have been simultaneously fighting symptoms, however, when he fights his symptoms, he continues to plow through everything like a mini monster and manages to do it with a grin on his face. I, on the other hand, cannot get out of bed.
The last two days, I have experienced a horrific and disgusting bug that included (without getting too graphic) excessive vomiting and painful (yes, painful) fever, aches, and chills. The cherry on top was the massive migraine headache I had all night. For those who know me well, you know how much I detest the process of throwing up. My mind is constantly baffled by those who suffer bulimia. How do they do it?! In addition to being painful and disgusting, I, personally, become nothing short of a small child when it comes to this disgusting activity. I start shaking, crying, and begging for my mom…even at this age. The last time I experienced something so terrible was the day after Sabrina & JJ’s engagement party. I had a sinus infection, took antibiotics, and still managed to go wine tasting (hey, I didn’t drink anything that night!). The next day, (ask Audry), we had to pull over every 10 minutes on the way home from Napa to San Francisco so that I could experience the pain and anguish of, ew, throwing up bile on the side of CA-29, which oh by the way, is a 2-lane road, because it turns out I am allergic to that antibiotic, and wine tasting probably didn’t help. (I could continue about stories of being sick, and how I am constantly baffled at how quickly people, Sabrina, can bounce back, but that’s for another day.) Back to the present time, today I am operating at about 98%. I do manage to have my appetite back, and now brings us to the point of my even writing this entry.
Obviously, I am feeling REALLY inspired, because I haven’t made any entries in awhile, and as we all know (all 6 of you), when I have a PSA, I am impatient chicken and need to share with the world immediately.
I did not eat a single thing except two saltines and a cup of chicken broth the first day this extraordinary bug harpooned my system. Yesterday, I did manage to eat some healthy black bean chili and rice. Today, I was determined to have what my body was actually craving – a hamburger (no cheese) and strawberry shake. What better place to purchase such items than McDonald’s, because, after all, if you’re going to go, you might as well go big and get the fries, as well. Plus, I actually had it in my head that avoiding cheese might actually help (and yes, I’m aware the shake is dairy…leave me alone).
Well, yes, people, I have seen Supersize Me, and yes, I recall how sick Morgan Spurlock (Google) became after eating McDonald’s every day for 30 days. I was not planning on eating this every day (save for the time I was pregnant and DID, in fact, stop at McDonald’s for breakfast every day in the 1st and 2nd trimesters…ok…and most of the 3rd – wait – how did I gain 45 lbs.?). I thought to myself, “Self, one day ain’t gonna kill ya.” I actually thought that if I got the Quarter Pounder with no cheese, only ate half the large fries, and maybe downed 1/3 of the shake, I might be in good shape and still satisfy my craving. I did even better than that, people! I ate the Quarter Pounder with one bun, yes, had half the fries, and took MAYBE 5 sips of the shake (too sweet even for me) and trashed the rest.
I was so proud of myself for listening to my body.
Lo and behold, not even thirty minutes later, I heard the all too familiar rumblings in my tummy, and the food, quite literally, hit me like a ton of bricks. As I am furiously typing this tale, my stomach is writhing and feeling like Laila Ali is using my intestine as her personal punching bag. It has now been 4 hours, and I’m still unable to properly function.
Circling back to Mr. Jake. My aunt kept him over the weekend. She, her friend, my daughter, and my daughter’s friend all fought the funk this week, not to mention, my darling husband is feeling the effects of this nasty bug today. Maybe, if I were one of those moms who bathed in Lysol every 30 minutes, this would not have happened.
…and I wouldn’t have wasted $6.41 to make myself miserably sick again. Curses McDonald’s!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Up All Night, Up All Day
As if I don't need to sleep during the night....
Here is how my evening went:
10pm-ish - Celtics nearly give me heart failure during their game with the Spurs. Thank God they won even though they pretty much deserved to lose given their horrible display the last 3 minutes of the game.
10:30pm - Turn off TV to go to bed
10:40pm - Almost asleep, Shawn nearly chokes on his own saliva a la Jake style because his throat hurts and he doesn't want to swallow. (twss) Find out Rondo DID get a triple-double and go to sleep with a smile on my face. (Note to self: lookup triple-double record and see where Rondo falls into place)
10:50pm - Almost asleep...again, Shawn wakes up to look for a cough drop. I turn on the light to find one. Men really are babies when they are sick.
11:00pm - And again...almost asleep. Shawn wakes up and says "Was that him?!" meaning, Mr. Jake. I get up to check and make sure the monitor is working. Oh ya, it's working, and need I remind you that I wake up to the buzz before the alarm goes off because I'm a light sleeper? (read: I have sleep apnea)
1:00am - I wake up, hear Jake cry out. Wait anxiously to see if I need to pin his arms down to put him back to sleep. I don't. I go back to sleep.
3:00am - I wake up...just...because. I think about all the things I need to remember for today including but not limited to, my writing this blog post. I tell myself 6 times (because Kelli F. always said "6 times committed to memory") that I need to remind myself to send out the last 2 Baby Announcement/Holiday Cards rolled up into a New Years Card, because let's face it, I didn't have time (read: make time) to send out baby announcements or holiday cards, and besides, who wants to kill all those trees?! Anyhow, I remind myself to mail the last 2 cards to my sister-in-law and aunt. Then, I start to wonder when I'm going to write all of those Thank You notes to the generous people who sent me baby gifts (could be you). I mean, I figure it's like a wedding and I have one year to send them (right???). I also think, rather, hope, that I already written the thank yous to my co-workers who attended my shower in May and gave me gifts. Actually, I'm terrified I did NOT write them and I start to think about all the encounters I've had with my co-workers wondering if they think I am a sub-standard human being because I haven't written them a thank you card. I sweat it out and think about the fact that I need to give my friend Lauren a thank you card and include a photo of Jake with the super cute outfit she gave him that he wore for everyone on Thanksgiving.
I continue to think about other things, like why I haven't posted on my blog in awhile to satisfy all 3 followers and to heal myself since it's very therapeutic, and I hope I don't forget all the fantastic ideas I have to post (I did). I also anticipate Jake's somewhat standard 4am wake-up, and know that I have to get him because a) Shawn is sick and b) Shawn is traveling to New Orleans today and has to get up at 6am. I also think that I should take experts' advice and keep a notepad and pen next to my bed so I can write this stuff down and go back to sleep.
4am - Back to sleep.
5:45-ish am - Wake up. I hear Shawn wake up to go feed Mr. Jake.
6:15am - Wake up. Shawn brings Mr. Jake in to lay down and sleep in bed with me, my favorite part of the day.
6:30am - Wake up (did I ever fall back to sleep?) to kiss Shawn goodbye. I initially planned to get up but instead re-set my alarm for 7:30am.
7:15am - Jake wakes up (boo). I go to change his diaper and he pees all over the place, so I take him to the bathroom to bathe him. I leave dried peepee on the drapes and vow to wash or Lysol wipe them later this evening.
7:30am - Turn off alarm. Run around with my head cut off putting together Jake's diaper bag, put on Baby Einstein, feed the kitties, iron my skirt, frantically search for my one white button down shirt. I'm supposed to meet my sitter at work at 9.
8:30am - Still looking for my white shirt. I pick up Jake because he's crying, try to put in my contacts while holding him, drop my last contact. Curse myself for a) not ordering more contacts last week like I told myself to do and b) not sticking to the initial plan of getting up at 6:30am.
9am - I'm super late. Can't find my brown boot. Can't find an extra contact. Re-bathe Jake because he spit up and poo'd everywhere. Curse myself again for not getting up at 6:30am.
10am - Finally make it to work.
Now, nobody can curse me for not returning calls or writing on Facebook walls.
Here is how my evening went:
10pm-ish - Celtics nearly give me heart failure during their game with the Spurs. Thank God they won even though they pretty much deserved to lose given their horrible display the last 3 minutes of the game.
10:30pm - Turn off TV to go to bed
10:40pm - Almost asleep, Shawn nearly chokes on his own saliva a la Jake style because his throat hurts and he doesn't want to swallow. (twss) Find out Rondo DID get a triple-double and go to sleep with a smile on my face. (Note to self: lookup triple-double record and see where Rondo falls into place)
10:50pm - Almost asleep...again, Shawn wakes up to look for a cough drop. I turn on the light to find one. Men really are babies when they are sick.
11:00pm - And again...almost asleep. Shawn wakes up and says "Was that him?!" meaning, Mr. Jake. I get up to check and make sure the monitor is working. Oh ya, it's working, and need I remind you that I wake up to the buzz before the alarm goes off because I'm a light sleeper? (read: I have sleep apnea)
1:00am - I wake up, hear Jake cry out. Wait anxiously to see if I need to pin his arms down to put him back to sleep. I don't. I go back to sleep.
3:00am - I wake up...just...because. I think about all the things I need to remember for today including but not limited to, my writing this blog post. I tell myself 6 times (because Kelli F. always said "6 times committed to memory") that I need to remind myself to send out the last 2 Baby Announcement/Holiday Cards rolled up into a New Years Card, because let's face it, I didn't have time (read: make time) to send out baby announcements or holiday cards, and besides, who wants to kill all those trees?! Anyhow, I remind myself to mail the last 2 cards to my sister-in-law and aunt. Then, I start to wonder when I'm going to write all of those Thank You notes to the generous people who sent me baby gifts (could be you). I mean, I figure it's like a wedding and I have one year to send them (right???). I also think, rather, hope, that I already written the thank yous to my co-workers who attended my shower in May and gave me gifts. Actually, I'm terrified I did NOT write them and I start to think about all the encounters I've had with my co-workers wondering if they think I am a sub-standard human being because I haven't written them a thank you card. I sweat it out and think about the fact that I need to give my friend Lauren a thank you card and include a photo of Jake with the super cute outfit she gave him that he wore for everyone on Thanksgiving.
I continue to think about other things, like why I haven't posted on my blog in awhile to satisfy all 3 followers and to heal myself since it's very therapeutic, and I hope I don't forget all the fantastic ideas I have to post (I did). I also anticipate Jake's somewhat standard 4am wake-up, and know that I have to get him because a) Shawn is sick and b) Shawn is traveling to New Orleans today and has to get up at 6am. I also think that I should take experts' advice and keep a notepad and pen next to my bed so I can write this stuff down and go back to sleep.
4am - Back to sleep.
5:45-ish am - Wake up. I hear Shawn wake up to go feed Mr. Jake.
6:15am - Wake up. Shawn brings Mr. Jake in to lay down and sleep in bed with me, my favorite part of the day.
6:30am - Wake up (did I ever fall back to sleep?) to kiss Shawn goodbye. I initially planned to get up but instead re-set my alarm for 7:30am.
7:15am - Jake wakes up (boo). I go to change his diaper and he pees all over the place, so I take him to the bathroom to bathe him. I leave dried peepee on the drapes and vow to wash or Lysol wipe them later this evening.
7:30am - Turn off alarm. Run around with my head cut off putting together Jake's diaper bag, put on Baby Einstein, feed the kitties, iron my skirt, frantically search for my one white button down shirt. I'm supposed to meet my sitter at work at 9.
8:30am - Still looking for my white shirt. I pick up Jake because he's crying, try to put in my contacts while holding him, drop my last contact. Curse myself for a) not ordering more contacts last week like I told myself to do and b) not sticking to the initial plan of getting up at 6:30am.
9am - I'm super late. Can't find my brown boot. Can't find an extra contact. Re-bathe Jake because he spit up and poo'd everywhere. Curse myself again for not getting up at 6:30am.
10am - Finally make it to work.
Now, nobody can curse me for not returning calls or writing on Facebook walls.
Read more!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Stop Pressuring Me
For some reason, I have Michael Jackson's "Stop Pressuring Me" floating through my head this morning. In fact, it's making me somewhat agitated and I might yell at someone today just for fun. The great thing about that is - I'm PREGNANT - so instead of blaming it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol, blame it on the hormones.
Anyhow, I was in such a hurry to post the other day...something...anything...(stop pressuring me!)...that I realized I completely skimmed over the fact that I should have addressed my very last post, months ago, when I swore I would wait until February to get pregnant.
It's amazing how timing is everything. In retrospect, if I were under complete control of my life, I actually would have waited after all. Who knew the crazy events that would follow. However, God's plan is in motion, and thanks be to God, I'm goin' with the flow, though sometimes, I don't understand the chain of events. That's neither here nor there. The world is a much better place under God's control than mine. I'm grateful, regardless.
I will stop talking in circles and get to the question everyone (all seven of you) have been waiting for and that is: Why did you decide to get pregnant earlier than later?
Well, see, what had happened was....
'Twas August 24, 2009. (My LMP was August 27th, and yes, I'm 100% sure. Every time I go to the doctor, they ask me the date and if I'm positive? YES I'M POSITIVE! Don't you people write things down?! The reason I'm positive, is because I had a gyno appointment on that day, and guess what, Aunt Flo arrived early, so I had to change my appointment. Again, please write this in my file!!!)
Sorry...so...it was on August 24th, I was at the gym working out with my fabulous trainer, Kara, and a few of my great friends, Rachel, Kristyn, & Laurie. I'm not sure if it was the squat thrusts, heavy breathing, or the fact that my belly was already bulging, but we got on the topic of pregnancy. As usual (and I hope this isn't TMI, but you know what you're getting into when you read my blog), I did not pick up my automatic BC pill refill at Walgreen's the day before. I'm pretty sure because I have it programmed in my brain that Walgreen's pharmacy closes at 6pm on Sundays, when in, in fact, they close at 5pm. Because of the efficient way our insurance companies work, if I pick up my prescription a minute before the actual 30-day mark, they charge me more. As a result, I have to wait to pick it up on Sundays, which, again, I never do because they are always closed.
Here we are on Monday evening after work, at the gym, dying over whatever crazy exercise Kara decided to make up on the spot to kill us, and somehow, we get on the topic of pregnancy. Of course, the focus goes to me, because I am the newlywed and in my 30's, (stop pressuring me!) and they demand to know - "When are you getting pregnant?" I casually mention the pill situation, and how I have to stop at Walgreen's to pick them up after the gym. Kara and Rachel, my lovely vocal friends, point out a few things like:
-When you are 35, you are considered high risk no matter what and the doctors watch you like a hawk
-What's the difference between now and February?
-What do you need to be different in order to start trying?
I pondered these thoughts, and I have to say, one of the biggest reasons is the first one. For those of you who really know me, you pretty much know that if you tell me what to do, I'm going to do the opposite. (stop pressuring me!) I don't quite know how everyone who interacts with me hasn't figured out that reverse psychology works wonders with me(there's your tip of the day), but the thought of doctors who don't know me constantly telling me what to do did not sit well at all.
I decided that I, in fact, would NOT make the trip to Walgreen's to pick up my pills. Done. I called Shawn on the way home and informed him of this. The conversation went something along the lines of:
Me: "Babe, I just want to let you know I'm coming straight home and I'm not going to Walgreen's to pick up my pills."
Shawn: "Ok. What do you mean?"
Me: "I was supposed to pick up my pills yesterday, and I never did, but I've decided I'm not going to pick them up."
Shawn: "So, you're just going to not take them?"
Me: "That's correct."
Shawn: "Ok, pm. Is this something we should talk about?"
Me: "We can talk about it, but I'm not picking them up."
Shawn: "Ok, pm."(he says this often)
Not really all that rattled, I thought, "why not?!" We were going to start trying in February anyway, and I couldn't ward him off any longer. Shawn has been ready whenever, and pretty much left it up to me. Besides, I'm going to be 34 (at that time) and for all we know, it could take us months, so what's the difference (as the girls pointed out)?
Shawn and I talked for a few minutes, and there you go, we decided we were going to start trying! I pointed out that I did NOT want to be one of these crazy preconception people who had the calendar in front of them at all times and anticipating the ovulation dates. (stop pressuring me!) I also did not want to tell anyone, because I didn't want people to be concerned (read: annoying) and constantly asking me "Are you pregnant yet?!" I know they mean well, but people just truly do not understand how annoying and intrusive they can actually be.
Well...guess what...I couldn't stop telling people, and I was actually looking forward to my birthday, because I was scheduled to ovulate between September 6th-10th. Perfect! I couldn't stop talking about it, and in fact, I kept saying "Let's just DO this already!!!" Impatient chicken at it's finest. Shawn pointed out how romantic I was (not) being. I couldn't help it! Once I took the plunge it felt so liberating, that all I wanted was to hurry up and get pregnant.
Three weeks later...I was pregnant. Go figure. People kept saying it's because I'm Hispanic. Not sure how to take that, but made me chuckle nonetheless. Shawn pointed out the strength and determination of his parts. I would say that both of us were pretty proud of ourselves for being in our (ahem) mid-30's and gettin' the job done. We are, after all, pretty competitive. Boom goes the dynamite!
There you have it. That is pretty much how it all went down. I didn't wait until February, but have any of you ever really known me to wait patiently for ANYTHING?!
Anyhow, I was in such a hurry to post the other day...something...anything...(stop pressuring me!)...that I realized I completely skimmed over the fact that I should have addressed my very last post, months ago, when I swore I would wait until February to get pregnant.
It's amazing how timing is everything. In retrospect, if I were under complete control of my life, I actually would have waited after all. Who knew the crazy events that would follow. However, God's plan is in motion, and thanks be to God, I'm goin' with the flow, though sometimes, I don't understand the chain of events. That's neither here nor there. The world is a much better place under God's control than mine. I'm grateful, regardless.
I will stop talking in circles and get to the question everyone (all seven of you) have been waiting for and that is: Why did you decide to get pregnant earlier than later?
Well, see, what had happened was....
'Twas August 24, 2009. (My LMP was August 27th, and yes, I'm 100% sure. Every time I go to the doctor, they ask me the date and if I'm positive? YES I'M POSITIVE! Don't you people write things down?! The reason I'm positive, is because I had a gyno appointment on that day, and guess what, Aunt Flo arrived early, so I had to change my appointment. Again, please write this in my file!!!)
Sorry...so...it was on August 24th, I was at the gym working out with my fabulous trainer, Kara, and a few of my great friends, Rachel, Kristyn, & Laurie. I'm not sure if it was the squat thrusts, heavy breathing, or the fact that my belly was already bulging, but we got on the topic of pregnancy. As usual (and I hope this isn't TMI, but you know what you're getting into when you read my blog), I did not pick up my automatic BC pill refill at Walgreen's the day before. I'm pretty sure because I have it programmed in my brain that Walgreen's pharmacy closes at 6pm on Sundays, when in, in fact, they close at 5pm. Because of the efficient way our insurance companies work, if I pick up my prescription a minute before the actual 30-day mark, they charge me more. As a result, I have to wait to pick it up on Sundays, which, again, I never do because they are always closed.
Here we are on Monday evening after work, at the gym, dying over whatever crazy exercise Kara decided to make up on the spot to kill us, and somehow, we get on the topic of pregnancy. Of course, the focus goes to me, because I am the newlywed and in my 30's, (stop pressuring me!) and they demand to know - "When are you getting pregnant?" I casually mention the pill situation, and how I have to stop at Walgreen's to pick them up after the gym. Kara and Rachel, my lovely vocal friends, point out a few things like:
-When you are 35, you are considered high risk no matter what and the doctors watch you like a hawk
-What's the difference between now and February?
-What do you need to be different in order to start trying?
I pondered these thoughts, and I have to say, one of the biggest reasons is the first one. For those of you who really know me, you pretty much know that if you tell me what to do, I'm going to do the opposite. (stop pressuring me!) I don't quite know how everyone who interacts with me hasn't figured out that reverse psychology works wonders with me(there's your tip of the day), but the thought of doctors who don't know me constantly telling me what to do did not sit well at all.
I decided that I, in fact, would NOT make the trip to Walgreen's to pick up my pills. Done. I called Shawn on the way home and informed him of this. The conversation went something along the lines of:
Me: "Babe, I just want to let you know I'm coming straight home and I'm not going to Walgreen's to pick up my pills."
Shawn: "Ok. What do you mean?"
Me: "I was supposed to pick up my pills yesterday, and I never did, but I've decided I'm not going to pick them up."
Shawn: "So, you're just going to not take them?"
Me: "That's correct."
Shawn: "Ok, pm. Is this something we should talk about?"
Me: "We can talk about it, but I'm not picking them up."
Shawn: "Ok, pm."(he says this often)
Not really all that rattled, I thought, "why not?!" We were going to start trying in February anyway, and I couldn't ward him off any longer. Shawn has been ready whenever, and pretty much left it up to me. Besides, I'm going to be 34 (at that time) and for all we know, it could take us months, so what's the difference (as the girls pointed out)?
Shawn and I talked for a few minutes, and there you go, we decided we were going to start trying! I pointed out that I did NOT want to be one of these crazy preconception people who had the calendar in front of them at all times and anticipating the ovulation dates. (stop pressuring me!) I also did not want to tell anyone, because I didn't want people to be concerned (read: annoying) and constantly asking me "Are you pregnant yet?!" I know they mean well, but people just truly do not understand how annoying and intrusive they can actually be.
Well...guess what...I couldn't stop telling people, and I was actually looking forward to my birthday, because I was scheduled to ovulate between September 6th-10th. Perfect! I couldn't stop talking about it, and in fact, I kept saying "Let's just DO this already!!!" Impatient chicken at it's finest. Shawn pointed out how romantic I was (not) being. I couldn't help it! Once I took the plunge it felt so liberating, that all I wanted was to hurry up and get pregnant.
Three weeks later...I was pregnant. Go figure. People kept saying it's because I'm Hispanic. Not sure how to take that, but made me chuckle nonetheless. Shawn pointed out the strength and determination of his parts. I would say that both of us were pretty proud of ourselves for being in our (ahem) mid-30's and gettin' the job done. We are, after all, pretty competitive. Boom goes the dynamite!
There you have it. That is pretty much how it all went down. I didn't wait until February, but have any of you ever really known me to wait patiently for ANYTHING?!
Read more!
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Back in the Saddle
Seriously? I haven't written an entry since June?! What is wrong with me?!?! I have SO many random thoughts to share with all 7 of you that occasionally read this thing. Fortunately, I'm great at taking notes on my handy iPhone using the "Notes" application. I use this for meetings at work sometimes, and I have to announce it to everyone or they'll think I'm being rude by texting or typing emails. Get with the now people. Technology and the iPhone notes app was invented for a reason. Who needs a paper and pen anymore?
Anyway, like I said, I have so many random thoughts to share. I guess my excuse for not writing is that I got a new sales boss and then football season, and oh ya, I got pregnant...which...was not awesome for the first trimester, and now I fully understand why women drop off the face of the earth for the entire time. Not that I did, but never will I ever judge them again. The kid's not even here yet!
So, I've been taking all these notes and looking back at them now, I have absolutely no idea what on earth they mean. For example, the first one states "Alison Mikki Moore and guys with hair". Huh?! Who is Alison? Iraheta? I guess I was still on an AI kick?
Since none of that will make sense to anyone, I will go on a rant about Tiger Woods, even though I don't believe that he deserves any of my time, yet, I can't seem to escape the ridiculous statement he made yesterday and join the ranks by giving my (what I believe is valuable) two cents. Here's a statement Tiger "I'm an undeserving a-hole." Seriously? We need ALL this coverage to talk about Tiger and the fact that he likes to - ahem - "have infidelities" (read: bang) with "other women" (read: money-grubbing slutty porn stars) and the like? (I'm about to be a mother, I should stop talking like that, doubtful.) He better be glad he's not married to me. God bless Elin. I hope she's having lots of affairs with multiple cabana boys. Tiger - please go back to your fantasy sex world and leave us regular humans alone! I'm hoping that this was his kryptonite, and suddenly, his magical golf powers will disappear and then prove all of those annoying analysts like Rick Reilly that he in fact will NOT come back strong, lose it, and fall off the face of the earth.
In the background I have Anna Lynne McCord talking about eating Taco Bell. With sour cream. Questionable. Being pregnant is awesome.
Today, I am off to a baby shower. Now that I'm having one, I'm actually excited about it. As much as I hate to be one of those "wait until you have a baby" people, I really am one of them now. They suck you in with their tractor beams and force you to become one of them! I actually had fun picking out Johnson's Baby Magic products and deciding which washcloths would be the best for my friend's new baby boy. Yes, I'm even looking forward to the games. What has happened to me?! Mind you, none of this occurred before pregnancy. I've always been one to absolutely dread baby showers. As much as I love my friends and their babies, how is it fun for someone who isn't pregnant or never had a baby to sit for 3-4 hours, play silly games, and watch someone open foreign gifts all the while thinking about the million other things they have to get done or could do with a Saturday? How painful! The least they can do is serve some good champagne. I don't blame y'all for dreading it, as I did, and still sometimes do, but just have mercy on these poor souls. Pregnancy does a number on you. Just try to be mindful that it is only temporary. (That's what I tell Shawn every day)
Anyway, like I said, I have so many random thoughts to share. I guess my excuse for not writing is that I got a new sales boss and then football season, and oh ya, I got pregnant...which...was not awesome for the first trimester, and now I fully understand why women drop off the face of the earth for the entire time. Not that I did, but never will I ever judge them again. The kid's not even here yet!
So, I've been taking all these notes and looking back at them now, I have absolutely no idea what on earth they mean. For example, the first one states "Alison Mikki Moore and guys with hair". Huh?! Who is Alison? Iraheta? I guess I was still on an AI kick?
Since none of that will make sense to anyone, I will go on a rant about Tiger Woods, even though I don't believe that he deserves any of my time, yet, I can't seem to escape the ridiculous statement he made yesterday and join the ranks by giving my (what I believe is valuable) two cents. Here's a statement Tiger "I'm an undeserving a-hole." Seriously? We need ALL this coverage to talk about Tiger and the fact that he likes to - ahem - "have infidelities" (read: bang) with "other women" (read: money-grubbing slutty porn stars) and the like? (I'm about to be a mother, I should stop talking like that, doubtful.) He better be glad he's not married to me. God bless Elin. I hope she's having lots of affairs with multiple cabana boys. Tiger - please go back to your fantasy sex world and leave us regular humans alone! I'm hoping that this was his kryptonite, and suddenly, his magical golf powers will disappear and then prove all of those annoying analysts like Rick Reilly that he in fact will NOT come back strong, lose it, and fall off the face of the earth.
In the background I have Anna Lynne McCord talking about eating Taco Bell. With sour cream. Questionable. Being pregnant is awesome.
Today, I am off to a baby shower. Now that I'm having one, I'm actually excited about it. As much as I hate to be one of those "wait until you have a baby" people, I really am one of them now. They suck you in with their tractor beams and force you to become one of them! I actually had fun picking out Johnson's Baby Magic products and deciding which washcloths would be the best for my friend's new baby boy. Yes, I'm even looking forward to the games. What has happened to me?! Mind you, none of this occurred before pregnancy. I've always been one to absolutely dread baby showers. As much as I love my friends and their babies, how is it fun for someone who isn't pregnant or never had a baby to sit for 3-4 hours, play silly games, and watch someone open foreign gifts all the while thinking about the million other things they have to get done or could do with a Saturday? How painful! The least they can do is serve some good champagne. I don't blame y'all for dreading it, as I did, and still sometimes do, but just have mercy on these poor souls. Pregnancy does a number on you. Just try to be mindful that it is only temporary. (That's what I tell Shawn every day)
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Tuesday, June 2, 2009
35 is the new mommy
I still haven't fully recovered from the sting of Kris Allen actually winning this past season of American Idol. The fact that someone can win based not based on talent really kills me. That, coupled with a nasty sinus infection has rendered me useless for a few weeks.
Anyway, I just returned from my annual exam with the lady doctor, and I'm really ticked. She asked me if I was TTC (trying to conceive) any time soon, as I had indicated last year that I might start trying right away. When I told her that Shawn and I wanted to wait a few months - like - our first anniversary - she suggested that I "should really think about trying sooner." After all, she droned on, I AM going to be THIRTY-FIVE next year, and if I wait until next year, by the time I give birth I will be THIRTY-FIVE.
...the emphasis on 35 is no accident.
Wait a minute...
You mean I'm going to be 35 next year? Really? Are you sure? Positive? Absolutely positive? Because, quite honestly, I had absolutely zero idea that next year I would be 35, so please, let me completely redo my life plan based on the fact that my gyno reminded me I will be 35.
Here's the thing...
I KNOW I'm going to be 35. I'm fully aware of it. Yes, I am aware and cautious of the risks involved in TTC or giving birth at 35. My question is this: You mean to tell me the minute I turn 35, my chromosomal make-up completely changes thus resulting in a higher risk pregnancy? Like, what if I give birth when I'm 35 and 3 weeks? What if I give birth when I'm 34 years 9 months 2 weeks 5 days and 57 minutes? Does that mean I'm still safe?
I can't help it if all her clients at USF (University of South Florida) are fresh out of Gainesville, at 23, already married, and wantin' to have youngin's. I can't help it if we are living in what is considered the Deep South where Confederate flags still fly and being barefoot, pregnant, and not even getting the car insurance discount because you're not 25 yet is the norm 'round these parts.
...but I'm not bitter.
The fact of the matter is, there are always risks involved, no matter what age, ethnicity, social or financial situation, health matters, etc. Yes, I have studied, and yes, I do know plenty of amazing women who have had successful experiences TTC and having a baby after 35. I know to expect difficulties and that there are no guarantees, but are there really any guarantees in life? No.
I'm still waiting until Feb. 7, 2010.
...and another thing! Why is there a University of South Florida in Tampa, when Tampa is NOT South Florida?! I'm baffled! Please explain!!!
Also, can anyone believe that the Magic are in the NBA Finals? Again...not bitter. Yoga breathing.
Anyway, I just returned from my annual exam with the lady doctor, and I'm really ticked. She asked me if I was TTC (trying to conceive) any time soon, as I had indicated last year that I might start trying right away. When I told her that Shawn and I wanted to wait a few months - like - our first anniversary - she suggested that I "should really think about trying sooner." After all, she droned on, I AM going to be THIRTY-FIVE next year, and if I wait until next year, by the time I give birth I will be THIRTY-FIVE.
...the emphasis on 35 is no accident.
Wait a minute...
You mean I'm going to be 35 next year? Really? Are you sure? Positive? Absolutely positive? Because, quite honestly, I had absolutely zero idea that next year I would be 35, so please, let me completely redo my life plan based on the fact that my gyno reminded me I will be 35.
Here's the thing...
I KNOW I'm going to be 35. I'm fully aware of it. Yes, I am aware and cautious of the risks involved in TTC or giving birth at 35. My question is this: You mean to tell me the minute I turn 35, my chromosomal make-up completely changes thus resulting in a higher risk pregnancy? Like, what if I give birth when I'm 35 and 3 weeks? What if I give birth when I'm 34 years 9 months 2 weeks 5 days and 57 minutes? Does that mean I'm still safe?
I can't help it if all her clients at USF (University of South Florida) are fresh out of Gainesville, at 23, already married, and wantin' to have youngin's. I can't help it if we are living in what is considered the Deep South where Confederate flags still fly and being barefoot, pregnant, and not even getting the car insurance discount because you're not 25 yet is the norm 'round these parts.
...but I'm not bitter.
The fact of the matter is, there are always risks involved, no matter what age, ethnicity, social or financial situation, health matters, etc. Yes, I have studied, and yes, I do know plenty of amazing women who have had successful experiences TTC and having a baby after 35. I know to expect difficulties and that there are no guarantees, but are there really any guarantees in life? No.
I'm still waiting until Feb. 7, 2010.
...and another thing! Why is there a University of South Florida in Tampa, when Tampa is NOT South Florida?! I'm baffled! Please explain!!!
Also, can anyone believe that the Magic are in the NBA Finals? Again...not bitter. Yoga breathing.
Read more!
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