Because I'm pretty much a lazy slob today, my offering to you is an email I sent to a person who shall remain nameless because I'm not sure if she's actually told real people she's knocked up, and I don't want to be Jack Black to her Angelina Jolie. So there.
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We're well over here.
Find a protein you can eat and make sweet, sweet love to it until you aren't sick any more. Usually it's over by 13-16 weeks. The ginger beer from Target was very helpful. It's crazy strong flavoured, but it helps. And did I tell you about the South Beach Diet high-protein cereal bars? They are pretty good, and also at Target and the Wmart.
Clinics are great, because usually the people who work there really love what they do. And that makes a world of difference. I have heard great things about hypnosis in labour, btw. I think it's more of a hyper-focus, and not weird mysticism, but I'm not entirely sure. And I'm digging the idea of water birth. However, Jon has informed me that I'm not allowed to birth no baby in the brand new tub at the hospital. As if HE'S the one in charge of that. heh heh.
O does not have her ears pierced. I cannot even imagine her getting them pierced because it would HURT THE MOST OF ANYTHING EVER!!!!!! She's got no pain tolerance. I can't even comb her hair without a tantrum, for flip's sake.
Also, not that it has anything to do with anything, but we have a Dr. Seuss DVD that the boys are all cracked out on and it is making me want to do BAD BAD THINGS. They're in the kitchen bathroom right now being naughty and I'm pretending they're not. Not in the bathroom, and not being naughty. We'll see how that turns out.
It is my plan (ha! I have a plan) to go to JoAnn's saturday and spend some quality time with the patterns. I would do it online, but I really need to read them very carefully, and I can't do that online because I'm borderline retarded lately. I will make a list of patterns that a) look good and b) I can make and send the list to you and you can look at the pretty pictures online and let me know if you like any of them and if you don't then we'll go actual dress shopping.
Now the boys are pounding on the bathroom door hollering to be let out. This is me ignoring them. It's fun.
I made coffee this morning for the first time in ninety years and it is the nastiest, weakest, pissant coffee ever. They make better stuff at the Deli. But I'm too lazy to pitch it and start over. Yesterday I was too lazy to make coffee and actually went to Starbucks before my midwife appointment and got a latte. It wasn't really very tasty, either, but it served its purpose, and got me all jittery on the caffeine I haven't had in a while. I had a shitty time at the midwife, too, but it wasn't because of me and my baby, it was, well, read my post from yesterday. Unless you're crying already, or on the verge of crying, because it was S.A.D. Then just pretend I said nothing whatsoever about my trip to the midwife.
I'm thinking about copying this email to you and posting it to the blog. I'd call it emailing it in thursday. It would be a hit.
Damn, the boys figured out how to get out of the bathroom. You think you want to have smart kids, and then they go and prove you wrong. Also? We thought we wanted artistic children, but the littlest one has wrecked that idea for us by coloring with his crayons, pencils and markers on every flat surface in our home. Well, not the ceiling. But only because he can't reach it in most places. Although by the art center upstairs, the ceiling slopes down quite far, and I think he's tagged that one. Most of the ceilings are mark-free. Except for over the piano...but that was just me, burning tall, cheap, sooty candles from the stuff-mart. Damn stuff-mart and their cheap crap. I can't bear to make those two black polka-dotties go away. It is just funny. And also, they've been there for so long they will never go away.
Have I told you I'm addicted to plain yogurt with bananas? Well that and cake, but you knew about the cake issue already. I could seriously eat a quart of plain yogurt a day. I realize this is disgusting, but at least I'm not eating massive quantities of Doritos (any more). At my appointment yesterday the nice nurse told me I only gained one pound since last week. I was glad I decided to wait to drink my latte until after she weighed me. It was the largest size latte known to man, and if I'd had it first I probably would have gained three pounds. Ha! I showed her. Or not.
And how is it that, in the mind of the 2 year-old, three crackers is not a whole bunch? And how is it that one cannot possibly eat a cracker sandwich with only three crackers? Three stacked up gives you a top, a bottom and a middle, and that is a sandwich, is it not? At this moment, out of sheer defiance, the lad has broken his three crackers into pieces and scattered them on the floor. Ha! He showed me.
Anyway. This has reached epic proportions, and you're probably at work, and ought not read long, winding emails from crazy pregnant people.
Advice of the day: Don't barf.
You're welcome.
************
We're well over here.
Find a protein you can eat and make sweet, sweet love to it until you aren't sick any more. Usually it's over by 13-16 weeks. The ginger beer from Target was very helpful. It's crazy strong flavoured, but it helps. And did I tell you about the South Beach Diet high-protein cereal bars? They are pretty good, and also at Target and the Wmart.
Clinics are great, because usually the people who work there really love what they do. And that makes a world of difference. I have heard great things about hypnosis in labour, btw. I think it's more of a hyper-focus, and not weird mysticism, but I'm not entirely sure. And I'm digging the idea of water birth. However, Jon has informed me that I'm not allowed to birth no baby in the brand new tub at the hospital. As if HE'S the one in charge of that. heh heh.
O does not have her ears pierced. I cannot even imagine her getting them pierced because it would HURT THE MOST OF ANYTHING EVER!!!!!! She's got no pain tolerance. I can't even comb her hair without a tantrum, for flip's sake.
Also, not that it has anything to do with anything, but we have a Dr. Seuss DVD that the boys are all cracked out on and it is making me want to do BAD BAD THINGS. They're in the kitchen bathroom right now being naughty and I'm pretending they're not. Not in the bathroom, and not being naughty. We'll see how that turns out.
It is my plan (ha! I have a plan) to go to JoAnn's saturday and spend some quality time with the patterns. I would do it online, but I really need to read them very carefully, and I can't do that online because I'm borderline retarded lately. I will make a list of patterns that a) look good and b) I can make and send the list to you and you can look at the pretty pictures online and let me know if you like any of them and if you don't then we'll go actual dress shopping.
Now the boys are pounding on the bathroom door hollering to be let out. This is me ignoring them. It's fun.
I made coffee this morning for the first time in ninety years and it is the nastiest, weakest, pissant coffee ever. They make better stuff at the Deli. But I'm too lazy to pitch it and start over. Yesterday I was too lazy to make coffee and actually went to Starbucks before my midwife appointment and got a latte. It wasn't really very tasty, either, but it served its purpose, and got me all jittery on the caffeine I haven't had in a while. I had a shitty time at the midwife, too, but it wasn't because of me and my baby, it was, well, read my post from yesterday. Unless you're crying already, or on the verge of crying, because it was S.A.D. Then just pretend I said nothing whatsoever about my trip to the midwife.
I'm thinking about copying this email to you and posting it to the blog. I'd call it emailing it in thursday. It would be a hit.
Damn, the boys figured out how to get out of the bathroom. You think you want to have smart kids, and then they go and prove you wrong. Also? We thought we wanted artistic children, but the littlest one has wrecked that idea for us by coloring with his crayons, pencils and markers on every flat surface in our home. Well, not the ceiling. But only because he can't reach it in most places. Although by the art center upstairs, the ceiling slopes down quite far, and I think he's tagged that one. Most of the ceilings are mark-free. Except for over the piano...but that was just me, burning tall, cheap, sooty candles from the stuff-mart. Damn stuff-mart and their cheap crap. I can't bear to make those two black polka-dotties go away. It is just funny. And also, they've been there for so long they will never go away.
Have I told you I'm addicted to plain yogurt with bananas? Well that and cake, but you knew about the cake issue already. I could seriously eat a quart of plain yogurt a day. I realize this is disgusting, but at least I'm not eating massive quantities of Doritos (any more). At my appointment yesterday the nice nurse told me I only gained one pound since last week. I was glad I decided to wait to drink my latte until after she weighed me. It was the largest size latte known to man, and if I'd had it first I probably would have gained three pounds. Ha! I showed her. Or not.
And how is it that, in the mind of the 2 year-old, three crackers is not a whole bunch? And how is it that one cannot possibly eat a cracker sandwich with only three crackers? Three stacked up gives you a top, a bottom and a middle, and that is a sandwich, is it not? At this moment, out of sheer defiance, the lad has broken his three crackers into pieces and scattered them on the floor. Ha! He showed me.
Anyway. This has reached epic proportions, and you're probably at work, and ought not read long, winding emails from crazy pregnant people.
Advice of the day: Don't barf.
You're welcome.
Ooooooh, yum. Plain yogurt with bananas? Add a little bigtg of granola to it. Just a little!
ReplyDeleteLongest email. Ever. I can tell she's Canadian. She wrote "flavour" or something like that with an unecessary "u".
ReplyDeleteDid I win the pickles?
So can you email me on Thursdays too? Because Thursdays usually suck and this would make my whole day.
ReplyDeleteOr I could just make sure to read your blog.
Our ceiling is tagged. Thank Grandma for the bunk beds. Jamie's more into himself as an easel these days. He seems to be trying to draw on facial hair like Daddy's.