Twelve Days & I'm Officially Panicking.

Please standby for a nervous breakdown, in:

5. The nursery isn't ready.
4. My house looks like it vomited on itself.
3. Did I mention the nursery isn't ready?
2. My three year old is sensing imminent and huge changes in his up until now blissful and unchallenged princedom. It's not going well.
1. And yeah, the NURSERY IS NOT FREAKING EVEN STARTED.

So.

I'm kind of going back and forth between acceptance and HUGE, irritable 'I'm 38 and a handful of days pregnant and things aren't just the way I want them and someone MUST PAY' rage.

I know my body is ready to be done being pregnant. I hurt everywhere. I have heartburn so bad that it makes my ear canals burn when I belch (which is all the time). Clothes are uncomfortable and I may start wearing caftans. Mrs. Roper chic...it's the hotness.

Mentally, I'm not ready. For some reason, my surroundings - i.e. my house - have to be completely prepared before I will let myself accept we're bringing another baby home. Logically I know that she's coming home no matter what and will not care if all she has is a bassinet, clean diapers and a boob.

But I care. Mucho.

Tomorrow, I have my second to last OB appointment. Yes, folks, this baby is coming whether I'm ready or not. And the way I'm carrying? I have a sneaking suspicion she may come early. Hold on, little girl. I need you to stay put till May 9. Do not deviate from the plan.

Looky here...mommy and daughter already butting heads. Yikes. Hopefully not a sign of things to come...

Couponing. For Real.

The other day I ran to the grocery store to pick up a few ingredients for a birthday dessert for my husband. His favorite is chocolate mousse. Pretty simple: heavy cream, semisweet chocolate, butter, sugar, eggs.

So I head over to the dairy case and am about to grab a quart of heavy cream off the shelf. Then I looked at the price and nearly pooped myself.

Are you ready for it? EIGHT DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS. For heavy cream.

I audibly gasped as I put the quart back on the shelf and reached for the pint.

Seriously, groceries. What is going on?

Okay, so I'm married to an economics major, so I have an idea, but that doesn't make the sticker shock any less, erm, shocking. I mean, between food and gas, I feel like we are bleeding cash.

All I've been hearing about these days is couponing. The show on TLC baffles me. Those people walk out of the store with a thousand dollars worth of groceries for like, thirty bucks.

Part of me would love to try couponing and be successful at it but I have to point out a few things:

- Anyone else notice that these people fill their carts with a bunch of processed food? I spend most of our grocery budget on unprepared food.
- I feel like I'm watching a glorified version of Hoarders. Cause really, who needs 65 bottles of mustard?
- Couponing seems to be a full time job. Honestly, these people are making 5 hour shopping trips, on top of clipping newspapers and printing stuff online and sorting and organizing. Yuck.

So, I have to ask, is couponing a valid option for someone like me, who doesn't do a lot of processed food and is short on tome? Is it worth the effort?

I'm totally curious, but I also have a short attention span. I need to see results, asap.

Anybody have any luck? Advice? Success? Or is it a huge waste of time? Talk to me.

Stupid Things People Say #19029379003081209371987

People say the most idiotic things to you while you're pregnant, but I may have the one that takes the cake.

A little background...my son was born via emergency c-section. So this new baby will be delivered via planned c-section. And yes, we do have a date. May 9.

I thought about trying a VBAC (vaginal birth after C, for those not in the know)for about two seconds. Then I remembered how harrowing my first experience was. And I spoke to my doctor, who made me feel good about my decision to deliver via C. I know that some women like to try, but for me, I just feel better about safety, for both me and the babe, going with the C. I'm not too keen on my uterus bursting during a contraction.

So, in short, yay for people who want to give natural a try after C, but it's not for me, and it's my decision.

And with that I'll hop off of my soapbox.

So, back to the asinine things people say...

Back in December during a holiday gathering (and I can't believe I didn't think to write about this until now), I was talking to a family member and they asked when I was due. I told them the estimated date, but also that we'd pick the date for the C. He didn't know I'd had an emergency C with G.

He made some comment about how that sucks (he's REALLY articulate) and I agreed, but jokingly said, 'At least I don't have to go through labor again.' And let me just say, if I could, I would have my children naturally. I've beat myself up over it, and struggled with many feelings of failure after my first attempt.

And he looks at me, dead serious, and says 'Well, that's cheating.'

Most of the time, I'd take that kind of comment as a joke. But if you knew this guy, and that he has no capacity for sarcasm and that he probably thinks facetious has something to do with the temperament of a dog, I knew he was not at all joking.

Yeah, I pretty much wanted to kick him in his ignorant nuts.

Because he is married to someone who has NO tolerance for pain, got an epidural at 2 centimeters dilated and basically sneezed her children out.

Because he's telling me I'M CHEATING BY HAVING MAJOR ABDOMINAL SURGERY.

Seriously.

SERIOUSLY.

You can't make this stuff up.

We're only related by marriage. We're only related by marriage. My children do not have any of his genes.

And that is a huge relief.

I Love Sugar But This is Ridiculous.

I am sitting in the waiting room at the OB with three other pregnant women. We are watching the Ambush Makeover segment on The Today Show and all of us are crying.

In our defense, it's a really happy/sad story (they made over a woman suffering from MS who is wheelchair bound).

Oh, hormones.

So, I'm not just hanging out at the doc for fun. No, I'm here cause I flunked my first glucose screening. As of this moment, I am a little over halfway done with my three hour screening. What does this entail? Fast for twelve hours, get blood drawn, drink a God awful glucose drink, which I'm pretty sure is similar to what they put in hummingbird feeders, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, final blood draw.

Did I mention you can't eat? And that the Today show featured Paula Deen this morning?

Baby girl is going absolutely insane from all the sugar. It's a orange glucose drink fueled dance party in my uterus.

This test is to determine whether or not I have gestational diabetes. Fingers crossed I pass this test!

In the meantime, I am meticulously and obsessively planning what food I am going to hoover in exactly two hours...

Because Gestating is Not Enough...

To Do List Before #2 Arrives:

1) Play Musical Bedrooms. G's room will become the nursery. Our room will become G's room. The front guest bedroom/office will become our room. Did I mention I have to clean out all three rooms and purge all the junk? I've been chipping away at it, but I have no idea how we've accumulated so much crap in five years.

2) Decorate Said Rooms. Paint. I think that's about all I can handle. I've picked out the nursery theme after about two months of agonizing. I wanted something girly but not over the top. Mostly, I didn't want all pastel - and this is what I chose:

[Yes, it's Pottery Barn. I tried to go all indie, but PB kept pulling me back in. Don't judge.]

You see that tiny bit of aqua in the corner of the bumper? That's the wall color. I think. So yes, there's a little pink, but the red kind of toughens it up a bit. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

3) Convert the Garage into a Family Room. I'm actually laughing at myself as I type this, because I think the chances of this happening are comparable to winning the lottery. We need the space so bad. But I'm thinking this will stay firmly on the to do list.

4) Have Some Kind of Garage Sale. Or, in alternative, rent a Uhaul and make a trip to Goodwill. Or have a massive bonfire in the backyard. This last option may become more viable the more stressed and crazy I get.

5) Potty Train G. Just kidding. This is a pipe dream. I've read all the books. I've tried several methods including just putting underwear on him and watching him like a hawk. Inevitably, I turn my back for five seconds and there's an accident. Am I getting judgment? Yes. Mostly from older relatives who are like, JUST FORCE HIM. Yeah. That's a great idea. I love the idea of scarring my child for life so things can be more convenient for me. Plus? I'm guessing even if I got him 'trained' by the time baby arrives, he'll regress. So potty training goes on the back burner. I'll just keep telling myself that he won't go to Kindergarten in diapers.

6) Pick Baby's Middle Name. Okay, I don't usually put my older child's name in this blog, but I'll this one time tell you (or maybe when she's born too) baby girl's name: we're calling her Charlotte. This has been our girl name for long before G was born. So now we need a middle name. I have a few in my head, but usually my ideas are poo-pooed immediately. I'm thinking maybe I won't bring it up at all and just use the one I pick when I fill out her birth certificate info? Cunning, I know. But I'm open to suggestions. I grew up with a super vanilla middle (and, let's face it, first) name, so unusual is good. Just no crazy spellings. That drives me nuts.

7) Stock the Freezer. I did a pretty good job of preparing and freezing meals before G was born and it was a life saver. I need to do the same this time, but I need some ideas. I usually do turkey chili, spaghetti sauce and a bunch of soups. If anybody has any easily freezable recipes, sent them to me...please! I'll love you forever. Not that I don't love you already...

I know there's much more I need to tackle. Those are the biggies.

Oh. I forgot something.

8) Try Not to Lose My Mind. It might be too late...

Blame The Social Network

This is one of those posts where I have a million things going through my head but can't settle on one to write about.

My brain won't stop. It started about an hour ago, this unsettled feeling. I don't know why. What happened. Today was a really good day. Only a few meltdowns (from toddler), a birthday party for one of my dearest friend's son. Overall, laid-back busy. If that makes any sense.

After my son went to bed, my husband and I actually watched a movie together, which is super rare. We picked The Social Network - which was fantastic. (And I'm sure they took a lot of artistic license, but has Mark Zuckerberg been officially diagnosed with Aspergers or what?)

When the movie was over, the husband cut out to play World of Warcraft (I'm not even going to start on this...I'm such a WOW widow) and I got REALLY antsy. As in, it's 11:30 and I really should go to bed, but I need to clean the kitchen and put away laundry and start another load and, and, and...

All the while, I'm having a conversation with myself and it's going something like this:

"Wow, that kid is a billionaire and he's like 26 or something.You will be 33 in May. What have you accomplished.No seriously. What?"

And I'm beating myself up in my head while scrubbing the hell out of the kitchen counter.

Listen, it's not like I feel the need to be a billionaire. Not at all. Even though not having to worry about money would be a welcome change.

It's more the principal of the thing. Let's just say the dreams I had for myself when I was fresh out of college have very much gone by the wayside. So much so, I honestly can't remember what they were.

Yes, part of my plans included having a family. But I've never been one of those people that was like 'all I want in life is to be a mom.' It's just not me. I can't pretend that I'm okay with just dissolving into my family, becoming nonexistent.

I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning. I really hate when I get into these funks and start questioning everything. I think about jobs. I think about getting laid off. I think about choosing the wrong college. The wrong major (cause honestly, an English degree without a teaching certificate is really doing me NO good).

Then I tell myself I did one thing right. I picked my husband. That was good. And that wouldn't have happened if I'd gone to another college.

I guess it boils down to the feeling of being purpose-less. Okay, semi-purpose-less (how many hyphens can I fit into one word). I know that my main purpose is being a wife and a mom. And I love that. But then what?

You know, I completely blame The Social Network for tonight's insomnia. Next time I'm totally picking something that will make me feel like a winner.

In fact, I'm putting Joe Dirt on RIGHT NOW.

Purge 2011 aka I'm Crazy Pregnant

In a little over three months, I will have a newborn. Scratch that...I will have a willful, 'busy' three year old (whom I adore) AND a new baby.

What was I thinking? Panic is setting in.

How do I deal with panic? Apparently, this time around it's manic organizing. Like today. Today I went through my spice cabinet. Chucked a ton of stuff. Things I never use (whole coriander seeds?) that I'm not sure I even bought, maybe they came with the house? Spices that didn't smell liken anything anymore. That can't be good.

Then I got really crazy. I pulled out my giant box of photos from high school, and purged it by half. Yes, I tossed photographs. Which is generally against everything I believe. But I've got the pregnancy crazies, and by God, I do not need 30 out of focus photos of my sophomore prom date.

A side note, I found a receipt from The Gap in that box from 1994, for a pair of jeans. Guess how much they cost?

$34. I kid you not.

Anyway, I'm kind of scaring myself. I'm worried I'll end up throwing something important out in one of my fits. Then again, it would probably be wise to just roll with this newfound ability to shed unnecessary crap. Since in real life, I'm a few boxes of twist ties away from Hoarders.

Mother of the Year

Ugh.

I can't believe I let my little man's birthday pass with out a post!

Don't worry, at least we celebrated in real life. Which I guess is the important thing.

So, a few days late, Happy Birthday, G-Rex!


I love everything about you. I love that you're 'busy'. How you are so sensitive and always asking how I'm feeling.

How you say 'grayby' for gravy and 'eyegrows' for eyebrows.

How you will pick fruit and vegetables over junk food every day of the week.

That you love Wall-E and seem to understand it better than a three year old should.

That you watch ESPN with Daddy and know who Kornheiser and Wilbon are.

And your obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine? Oh.My.Goodness.

I just love you, kiddo. You've made me a better person. It is absolutely my privilege to be your mama.

I just can't wait to see you as a big brother and watch you grow.

Late Breaking News: Va Jay Jay Wand Works!

So I'm reading the title to this post and it sounds a lot like I'm writing about a sex toy. But I'm leaving it, cause I want people to be all disappointed when they come here to perv out and I'm talking about the gender of my unborn child.

You all are sick. Sick, I say!

Anyhow, I'm very late getting here to report that we are, to the relief of many family members, having a girl child. And don't get me wrong, I'm beyond thrilled. Over the moon (gag). But I have to be honest...all the boy hate had me a little up in arms and indignant.

Moving on, though. Moving on. I'm a little over halfway through this pregnancy. I don't know if it's the extra girl fetus estrogen, but I have to admit, I've been a weepy mess. Yeah, I know pregnant ladies are emotional, but I can barely even turn the television on these days without getting verklempt. Have you seen those 'Foundation for a Better Life' spots? Brutal. BRUTAL.

My little G has been sick since Sunday. There is nothing worse than the look of terror on a little kid's face when they throw up. I think he's on the upswing. Now here's to hoping I don't get sick. Where's the Purell?

This little post is going to be, well, little. Cause little dude is waking up from a nap and I've got to resume coaxing him to eat. Next up?Popsicles. For him too.

It's Almost Christmas and I Haven't Kicked Anyone (Yet)

Something very strange is happening to me this year.

I'm enjoying the holidays.

Maybe it's because I actually feel pretty prepared this year. I don't think I am actually more prepared than usual, I just decided to give myself a break this year.

It probably has more to do with my son actually getting excited over Christmas this year. He loves the tree and is showing it by letting it remain upright, rather than pushing it over and removing the ornaments. We read 'The Night Before Christmas' every night, and he has it memorized. He plays constantly with his nativity scene. We went and saw Santa and he was SO excited he actually behaved.

It is so cliche, but so true. Reliving Christmas through your children can somehow smother the Grinch.

Admittedly, I'm still dreading some family functions, but honestly? There are relatives I dread seeing no matter what time of year. Like the one who eyeballs me in horror and wonders out loud how I've gained so much weight (uh, I'm pregnant?). Or the one who compares my son to her grandchild who is three months younger and potty trained and why isn't G potty trained and you really need to get him potty trained before the new baby arrives.

I would like to add that that particular relative will bombard me with this 'advice', then in the same breath add that her daycare potty trained her child because she couldn't handle it.

And then, we have the numerous family members who are obsessed with me having a girl this time round. Not even joking, I think they will be literally angry with me if I have a boy.

I'll see what I can do. Monday is the 'big' ultrasound, so maybe I can wave my magic wand and guarantee a vagina.

If not, I'm seriously considering calling in sick to a few upcoming functions.