Sneaky Bastards

Do you know that Babies R Us now offers a rewards program? I feel like they were hush hush about it for a while, but now it is pretty much out there. Sign up. Do you also know that I should have had $15 in rewards coming to me from BRU? Yeah. They should have been to my house by now via snail mail. Do you also know that my HUSBAND likes to throw away mail that looks like it might motivate me to spend more money? You know, like things that come from BRU, Target, Bed Bath & Beyond, etc? Looks like my $15 rewards are now mixed in with my dirty diaper bolster pillows at the landfill. I worked really hard to get those rewards, damnit! I have known his little coupon-pitching secret for a while now but chose to just play dumb wife and pretend like I had no clue. I told him he might have well just throw $15 in the trash BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HE DID.

Look who else is getting the SNEAKY BASTARD AWARD: Pampers!! Did you know that they also have a rewards program? You probably do, although I will file this in my "things that they forget to tell you when you have kids" folder. I had to find out for myself one day when I wondered what those damn green stickers were on the inside of my diaper packaging. I guess the big GIFTS TO GROW verbage on the FRONT of the package wasn't enough for me. Hmph.

Another sneaky bastard: The top left front tooth in Mason's mouth. That tooth is an asshole. It wakes Mason up every day at 6am and is all "Let's play! Talk to me and wake up your parents!" I want to be all, "STFU toooooth and come out and face your maker already."

I guess I will just have to SHOP at BRU for DIAPERS and ORAJEL to make up for my LOST REWARD DOLLARS.

You people upset me. Leave me alone.

Ridiculousismisosityism

Example 1:

His first Easter basket that the Easter bunny hid in our laundry room. It contained an Elmo book, which has become known as THE Elmo book, Mason's Bible, Thy Holiest Elmo Booketh. Once I get my ass in gear and upload the videos off of the video camera, I will have further proof to support my case for the love of the book.

Example 2:

Mason took the book with him to visit his grandma and grandpa.

Example 3:

This is where Mason receives his second Easter basket...errr plus present aka Christmas 2.0. Ballpopper funnnn! Mommy chase the balls because I do not crawl yet! Mommy why are you drinking the wine straight out of the bottle?

Example 4:

Mommy starts taking pictures of things that currently piss her off:

Seriously, can someone tell me when they started adding f'ing SCREWS to toy packages? What, were the impossible twisty-ties not enough to torture parents? Nooooo some dickhead at the toy company decided that babies were evolving and that the twisties weren't strong enough anymore to keep their chubby fingers from getting a hold of that bottle of bubble solution and drinking it down, with their SPECTACULAR coordination and all.

What's even more ridiculous? This post is not over. I have more to add from Easter, but allergies: I haz them. Floaty, disconnected, IMSOHIGH feeling from the allergy medication: I haz that as well and computer screen is giving me headache.

Zone of TERROR

Mason has what we like to call a "zone of terror". It's pretty much his wingspan (the zone) and the terror comes in when he starts swinging his arms around trying to grasp anything he can. So that he can put it in his mouth.

And destroy it.

So far, cell phones, computer mice, candles, lamps, toys, books, paper, blankets, cups and pens have succumb to his zone of terror.

There has to be some kind of explanation for the zone of terror. Here's mine: His teeeeef. They hurrrrrrt. WAHHHHHH I am going to make your life miserable WAHHHHH and eh eh EHEH EHEHEHEHE all.the.time. can't you hear me fake coughing? Don't you know how missssserabllllle the baaaayyyyybeeee isssss?

So now you can begin to understand why I haven't blogged in almost a week. I am exhausted. He sleeps fine at night, still going 11 straight hours. It's just the daytime that has become my own personal hell.

I am going to go shower now. While the monster child is sleeping.

Big Boy Seat

Well, Mason outgrew his infant carrier/car seat. The straps got too tight, he screamed every time he was put in it, and I just couldn't carry him AND the carrier around. It just got too heavy. So, in a snow storm on Saturday, my mom and I traveled to Babies R Us and I purchased a new car seat for him. The decision was an easy one since my car is small and only ONE of the choices fit. Luckily, it was the one I was looking at anyways, or at least the brand that I was looking at. It is good up until he is 40 pounds, which will probably be at his 9 month appointment.

Did I mention that he weighs close to 17 pounds at 4.5 months?

He will get to try it out for the first time today. Lets hope this solves our car issues and he stops crying in the car/I am not forced to listen to Elmo's Greatest Hits anymore - whichever comes first. Of course, buying a new car seat introduced me to a new dilemma which is called "It is January in Ohio and -20 degrees right now and we just lost our BundleMe privileges". So, my goal today is to find Mason a heavy coat/snowsuit/whatever to keep him warm, in January, when ALL of the kiddie stores have started displaying their SPRING clothes and hanging flowers! and bumblebees! and sunshinesunshinesunshine! from the ceilings of their stores.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Um, thanks.

I am going to complain a little here. Surprise, surprise. Why do people constantly feel the need to comment on your parenting skills? Of course I knew this would happen since it was present during pregnancy as well (the comments, I mean). I cannot recall ever mentioning anything about perfect stranger's parenting skills to their face before in my entire life. Maybe it is something that people feel entitled to once they have raised/are raising children? I don't know.

For example, at the grocery store the other day a lady in the checkout line commented on "how proud she was of me that I put mittens on my baby". I know she was trying to be nice and all, but really? You're proud of me? You don't even know me. I could have lined those mittens with razor blades or doused them in whisky before I left my house. (I would NEVER do either, BTW, so move your hand away from the mouse and the 'comment' button and get a hold of yourself.)

Then, THEN, on the way out of the grocery store, an older gentleman tells me that I should have put the baby carrier in a cart and pushed him around instead of carrying him. I politely told him, "Eh, just picking up some gift cards, no need! Plus it builds my muscles this way! (har har)". He responded with, "It doesn't build muscles, it just makes you tired". Dude, let it go. As if waking up at 5am to feed my baby doesn't make me tired enough.

Mom-1 Mason-1

The game is tied. Mason may be mysteriously waking up during the night like he is 3 freaking weeks old again, but I am ruling the daytime nap game. For the past couple days (knock on wood) I have been getting the kid down in 2 minutes flat thanks to my 'oh you're getting sleepy' sixth sense. Of course he pays me back by fighting ruthlessly when it is his last nap of the day or in the middle of the night when his once-a-night-3am feeding has turned into (on Sunday night) 12am, 2am, 5am, up for the day at 6:30am. Or last night: 2:30am, 6am then back down until 8:15am. Seriously, child. WTF are you doing?

I am hoping that the two wakings last night versus the 3 the night before means that he is getting back on schedule. Like, tonight he will be back to his once-a-night feeding. But honestly, he weighs over 12 freaking pounds, you would think the kid has enough fat stores in his cheeks to get him through the night. Obviously not. The only things I can come up with at this point is that he is hitting his 3 month growth spurt a week early, or spending the night at grandma's on Saturday (OF COURSE he slept like an angel) royally f'd him up for a couple days. OR he is getting another cold, but I doubt it because there are no other signs.

This is how I spend my days: Analyzing why HIS HIGHNESS will not a.) go to sleep or b.) stay asleep. Everything else is fine and dandy.

Dairy Farm

In the beginning, breast feeding was definitely a challenge for me. There were numerous freak outs that first weekend and "oh my God Mason is going to DIE because my milk is not in yet". It took almost 5 days before my milk came in and I was able to avoid engorgement but dealt with some sore nipples, God bless Lanolin. Low and behold, he wasn't dying, not even close. He gained 3 ounces of his weight back in 4 days, so he was getting something.

I never intended to breast feed for very long, maybe 2 months. I am just not one of those women that you see nursing their children until preschool (no offense). Call me selfish if you will, but I just never saw myself nursing for an extended period of time. Now that I am at 5 weeks and counting of nursing during the day (he gets formula at night to help him sleep longer) and thinking/starting to wean slowly, I am questioning myself. Nursing has gotten considerably easier, especially since the gremlin has become quite efficient and is no longer pulling marathon nursing sessions. Plus, and this is MAJOR, I am saving a shit-ton of money by not exclusively using formula. Also, feeding Mason via boob is something that no one else shares with us. It is our little special time and I feel so close to him when he nurses knowing that I am the only one that can provide that for him.

That is also a HUGE negative for me- I am the only one that can nurse him. Yes, I pump so Paul/anyone else can feed him but pumping takes up twice the amount of time and needs to be timed correctly = hassle. I am going to slowly wean him off of breastfeeding, I am actually down to nursing him only 3-4 times a day now since he is going 4 hours in between meals. I will say that it is very discouraging out there for mothers who choose to stop nursing or mothers who choose to never nurse at all. People will really make you feel like crap! I started reading all of these articles in attempt to learn how to properly wean and ended up almost in tears because I felt like I was a horrible mother for GASP! wanting to start giving my overly-hungry son a bottle. What ever happened to supporting everyone's decisions?

Ass licker.

36w 5d

Remember that oh-so-cute alarm clock I mentioned a few posts back? You know the one. He has fur, is kind of chunky, meows, WAS purring ever so lightly to wake me up in the morning?

Well, I changed my mind on loving the alarm clock features, for now he has switched to the "Wake up oh uncomfortable pregnant one - here I will lick my ass ever so loudly for you! Gooood Morning!"

I am working on a sweet surprise for you Internet. Stay tuned.

Your weekly update.

33w 6d

I am starting to think that maybe I should have had a little better foresight when I scheduled my prenatal massage appointments. I have my last session tonight (boo) and of course this week has been hell on my back. Sitting at work is no longer fun, my tailbone feels like it might poke through my skin, and my lower back is just an annoyance at this point. Boy must be getting big.

On the flip side, if I would have scheduled later appointments then laying on the table might have been such a hassle that the massages probably would have been less-than-enjoyable. Not that the massages have been completely relaxing with a ninja-baby inside of me. What's that mom? You're going to lay on your side and relax now? PERFECT timing to practice my round-house kicks.

The feet are back to normal, which only means one thing since the weather has been pretty consistent: Ninja baby was laying on something, pinching something off and loving it. I am no longer forced to make every outfit match with the Croc sandals, as comfortable as they are, they are HUGE on my normally-petite feet.

What else, what else. OH, while glancing into my bra cup this morning I noticed a small round circle of what at one time was probably some leakage. I am not sure when this occurred (sometime since the weekend) so now I am all paranoid that I will begin squirting at inappropriate times. Lovely. And I dreamed about Agent Orange last night and woke up in another almost-crying fit. That's all I am giving you this time. It is getting too ridiculous to write about.

Smooth Criminal?

33w 5d

Last week my mom and I met up at Babies R Us (BRU) so I could take back/exchange some items I received at my showers. What a fun time that was. I had everything contained to one large gift bag that my mom and I wheeled into the store and straight to the returns counter. The cashier watched us walk in with the bag. Keep that in mind.

I had receipts for almost everything, and everything was off of my registry anyways. All of the returns were going smoothly, and the cashier was just putting the amount on a gift card for me until we got to the last 2 items. My mother-in-law had bought me a small blue swaddle blanket (I had already received two) and some blue sheets (the blues in the nursery weren't matching up). She had given me the receipt which listed these two items as well as maybe 10 other items she had given me. Again, everything was from my registry.

Cashier: There is a problem. The computer is showing that all of these items have been returned.
Me: Impossible, since I just now returning them and everything else on the receipt is in my nursery at home.
Cashier: It is showing the items were bought at one location, then returned at another.
Me: Nope.
Cashier: Let me call the manager.
Manager: Did you return all of these items? Did your mother-in-law?
Me: Um, no. All of these items, except for the swaddle blanket and sheets are at home. They were a gift.
Manager: We have a new return policy that goes into effect August 8th. To make a return or exchange, you MUST have either a gift receipt, or the items must be from your registry.
Me: :blink, blink: Well, I DO have a receipt and these items ARE from my registry.
Manager: Can I have your driver's license? I need to go make a call.

What?! Was she calling the cops? What the hell? I am sure she was checking returns against my driver's license, but still. She took it back in to a back office like I was some sort of criminal. Yep, lady make sure you check for warrants. I am sure there are plenty out against me for trying to finagle BRU out of $20 of merchandise that was purchased off of my registry!

While the manager was off calling about my rap sheet, the cashier actually looks up and says, "Well, sometimes people will try to bring a receipt in twice and then go into the store and find an item on the shelf and return it for store credit." Really, lady? Did you not just watch us walk in here and come STRAIGHT to your counter?

The manager returns with my HOT license and exclaims, "Well, since the new policy isn't in effect yet, we will give you store credit this ONE time." Gee, thanks. She then went over the new policy again with me because since I am pregnant, I probably had already forgotten it since she read it to me 10 minutes earlier, OH and we can't read.

I found out the next day from my sister-in-law that my mother-in-law had indeed purchased everything at one location, then returned it all for a price adjustment somewhere else since she found a coupon. She had just given me the wrong receipt. I actually considered writing a letter to BRU's corporate office to tell them about the lovely employees at the location I was at, but I am too tired. Maybe they will read this. HA!

I guess it's not as bad as Target's return policy and practices, but I have now become a receipt whore. I hoard them all in a folder at home and will probably shake like a leaf after 5 years when I go to shred them because OMG I might need to return that toilet paper that I used 2 years ago and what if I don't have the receipt, holy shit they will throw me in jail!

Keep it comin'!

29w 4d STILL.

I swear. I always say that bad things happen in 3's. AND THEY ALWAYS DO.
1. I am diagnosed with gestational diabetes.
2. My health insurance denies the claim for the nice nurse to come to my house and teach me how to make myself bleed 4 times daily. I now have to go to the hospital and meet with a nurse that hacked up a lung while I was on the phone with her. She thinks I am funny though, I am sure we'll get along fine.
3. Are you ready for this? I don't think you are. You might want to get that popcorn out again...my pharmacy just called to tell me that when they ran my insurance info, it came up as "policy terminated".

Carry on.

Turn, turn we almost become dizzy.

29w 4d

It's amazing where support will come from. Some people you never imagine will support you, do. Some people you would think would be considerate and supportive, aren't. Then there are always the people you KNOW will offer support and always come through for you. The reliable ones. Thank you. This weekend was difficult for me to say the least. The tiniest things were setting my frustration off. I blamed myself a lot, even though I know this isn't my fault. I wanted to scream at people, but I refrained. I cried, of course. Last night I woke up thinking about an Oreo Blizzard from DQ. Of course the cravings come now. When I can't have them. Do you know how many Oreo Blizzards I have had since I have been pregnant? ONE. Oh the irony.

"Would you like dessert tonight? Strawberry cheesecake? Double fudge volcano explosion?"
Me: "No."
What I really wanted to say: "NO. Normally I don't get dessert. Only on rare occasions. But since you asked, NO. I can't have those. Even if I wanted to. My body hates me right now. Do you have any celery I could nibble on?!"

"Oh this cake is soooo good..."
Me: "Is it?"
What I really wanted to say: "F you. How dare you throw that in my face. I can't have cake. I hope you choke on it. I don't even like cake anyways. But you know what? You always want what you can't have, right?"

Angry? A little. Frustrated? Completely. Rational? Probably not, as exhibited above. I know these people mean no harm. I know the waitress was only doing her job. I know the cake person was only making small talk. I know I am not being fair, but you know what? I can't help it. I know there are people out there who deal with this their entire life. I have 10 weeks. Maybe I am just being a baby. This would not surprise me since there is one in my abdomen.

In other news, HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAUL!! We love you! Plus, did anyone notice that we are under 75 days now? Also, this blog has reached over 10,000 hits! Thank you all for reading! Now start doing a better job of commenting! Email me if you need help figuring out how. Have a wonderful Monday!

"Dark clouds may hang on me sometimes but I work it out Then I, Look up at the sky My mouth is open wide, lick and taste What's the use in worrying, what's the use in hurrying Turn, turn we almost become dizzy" -DMB

Birds and Cheese

23w 6d

Damn birds. Every morning. The chirping and the singing, "la la la chirp chirp chirp, it's Spring! Wake up assholes!" Okay, they don't say that, but I could have sworn I heard one of them yell that this morning at 5 a.m. Don't they have some worms to eat? Anything better to do? I am tired. I am so, so, tired. I just want one day where I can lay on the couch (because it's the only place I am comfortable) and SLEEP. No cooking, no cleaning, no entertaining. Our weeknights, weekends, LIVES are so insanely busy right now. I know that it is not going to get better, EVER, but I feel like if I just had one day to sleep I would feel ten thousand times better. I guess I should be thankful that we are in such high demand and so loved, but honestly people.

And the cheese. Stay with me here. I am slightly obsessed with stinky cheese. Blue, goat, brie, if it stinks, I want it. Of course a lot of the cheeses I want to eat are big no-no's when pregnant. I am especially obsessed with goat cheese right now. I'm talking looking-up-menu's obsessed. There is this wonderful pizza place in Cincinnati called Dewey's and they have an equally wonderful salad consisting of field greens, dried cranberries, toasted pine nuts and GOAT CHEESE all smothered in a balsamic vinaigrette. Are you salivating yet? I am. I actually dreamt about goat cheese last night.

The issue here is whether or not the cheese was made using pasteurized milk. Of course it is pretty difficult in the US to find a cheese that is not, but they are out there. In my grocery store there is a section of artisan cheeses if you will. Most of them are made using unpasteurized milk and therefor strictly prohibited by the pregnancy food police for risk of listeria. But you can pretty much bet the house that I will be asking my doctor about goat cheese on Friday.

Can you see now why I am so tired? All I do is think about goat cheese all day and night while the birds sing to me and the phone rings for get-togethers. Constant struggles.

Exactly what I am talking about.

16w 5d

Remember the genius radio host that was talking about his pregnant wife and push presents? Well, this morning he was discussing with his co-hosts that he believes his wife (now 37 weeks) should be able to park in the handicapped parking spots. Do you also remember my little list last week? There was one point that went a lil something like this:

• People will think you are handicapped because you are pregnant.
• You will witness other pregnant women who actually believe they are handicapped.

Remember now? This guy is out of his freaking mind. Can you imagine the uproar? Some stores do have the Expectant mother/New mom parking spots but I think they should only be used for the latter. If you are lugging around a baby carrier, diaper bag, etc. etc. then by all means park there. I don't get why some pregnant women, even those at 37 weeks feel the need to a.)not have their husband drop them at the door, b.)not want to get a little exercise. I mean you can go any day now. Walking is sometimes recommended to get labor progressing.

I know, I know. I haven't reached 37 weeks yet and blah blah blah. But guess what? I will be damned if I am dragging my huge ass to Target in 95 degree heat. That's just not safe. Did you read that - I won't even go out in it. And if I do, I will just have someone drop me at the door. What does he think women did thousands or even hundreds of years ago? What is so damn important at Target that she HAS to venture out by herself before the hour of 11am? Even if she has to go to the doctor, most of them maybe have a grand total of 20 parking spots to choose from. I highly doubt they are position 5 miles from the office front door.
Come on now. Save the spots for people who truly do have a disability. Wouldn't you feel horrible if you came skipping out of the grocery store to your handicapped spot only to see granny hobbling along from the last spot in the joint because you were lazy?

Don't even get me started on the people who abuse the handicapped signs that aren't even theirs.

Push Presents?

11w 5d

Good morning all. I want to first apologize for the lack of good descriptions on the ultrasounds last night. I was actually going to draw on them to make the features more obvious, but I was suffering from a debilitating migraine from about noon yesterday through about 4 a.m. this morning. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep last night. Second, something I forgot to mention yesterday was that it was a day that was long coming. I took out the belly button ring I have had for over 10 years. My stomach looks so strange now and has this funny hole. I wanted to scream THERE GOES MY YOUTH! when I took it out, but I didn't.

On to today's topic: Push Presents. On the way to the doctor yesterday, Paul and I were listening to a local radio personality who is also expecting (but who isn't, right?), talk about his wife wanting a push present. If you have no clue what I am talking about, let me fill you in. Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, (think America) women about to give birth, in all their hormonal craziness, decided that they were entitled to a present once they pushed the sucker out. Where this came from, I have no clue. I have no desire to research this insane and completely ridiculous idea. Usually, the present is pretty significant, such as diamonds. This was the case for our lovely radio personality, as his clue was two words: Cushion Cut.

Now, no offense to the crazies out there who think this is perfectly acceptable (I don't want them coming after me, they scare me), but honestly? The baby isn't present enough for you? Seeing a child that you have been growing and loving for 9 long LONG months isn't good enough for you? Eh. Maybe I am the crazy one. I am never one to think or beg (maybe sometimes JOKINGLY) that I am entitled to any present for ANYTHING. Valentines Day? Pish. I don't need one day for the card companies to tell me that my husband should buy me something, or that I should be extra affectionate with him that night. I love him every night, every day, and news flash people, but you can buy chocolate ANY DAY OF THE YEAR! No really! Check your grocer's check out lane! Sweetest Day, Birthdays, MLK Day, Columbus Day! No, no no! Women have been giving birth to babies for as long as I can remember and probably longer! Do you think that 500 years ago women who just gave birth in the woods on a dirt floor look up at their husbands afterwards and say, "Now go dive in the ocean and fetch me a pearl!". NO. Wake up people, presents are way more fun and appreciated if you don't know they are coming.

But there is one present you will know is coming, and it may be the greatest gift you every receive. No diamond, pearl or SUV can top it. It's called your child.

Good Baby

10w 1d

So I guess the baby listened and had a little talk with my immune system since the sore throat is gone. Now it has moved to my sinuses and hormones. I don't know whats worse. I just want to crawl in a hole. Today will be a success if I get through the day without hurting someone. I am not in the mood.

Happy Friday!

Thought this was pretty funny

8w5d

Someone posted this on the Nest. Too funny.

Dear Non-Pregnant Person,

I hope you find these guidelines helpful in your interactions with pregnant women as failing to follow them may result in serious physical harm. If you are thinking, surely she doesn't mean me- then you should probably read this twice.

1) The appropriate response to a couple telling you they are having a baby is "Congratulations!" with enthusiasm. Any other response makes you an asshole.

2) Through the wonders of science, we now know that babies are made ONLY by the mother and father- not grandparents. Unless the baby is in your uterus or you are the man that helped put it there, you may not ever use the phrase "my baby".

3) On the same note, unless you made the baby as defined in #2, the pregnancy, birth and raising of the child are not about you. You do not have input. No one wants to hear your opinion unless they ask for it.

4) The body of a pregnant women should be treated the same as any other body. You would not randomly touch someone's stomach if they were not pregnant, nor would you inquire into the condition of their uterus, cervix or how they plan to use their breasts. Pregnancy does not remove all traces of privacy from a woman.

5) Likewise, no women wants to hear comments on her weight- ever. A pregnant woman does not find it flattering that you think she is about is pop, must be having twins, looks swollen or has gained weight in her face. Telling her she looks too small only makes her worry that she is somehow starving her baby. Making such comments invite her to critique your physical appearance and you may not act offended. The only acceptable comment on appearance is "You look fabulous!".

6) By the time we are 20-30 years old, most of us have picked up on the fact that the summer is hot. We are hot every summer when we are not pregnant. We don't need you to point out that we will be miserably hot before the baby comes.

7) There is a reason that tickets to L&D are not yet sold on Ticketmaster. Childbirth is actually not a public event. It may sound crazy, but some women really do not relish the idea of their mother, MIL or a host of other family members seeing their bare butt and genitals. Also, some people simply feel like the birth of their child is a private and emotional moment to be shared only by the parents.

8) Like everything else is life, unless you receive an invitation, you are NOT invited. This includes doctor appointments, ultrasounds, labor, delivery, the hospital and the parents home. You do not decide if you will be there for the birth or if you will move in with the new parents to "help out". If your assistance is desired, rest assured that you will be asked for it.

9) If you are asked to help after the birth, this means you should clean up the house, help with cooking meals, and generally stay out of the way. Holding the baby more than the parents, interfering with breastfeeding and sleeping schedules and making a woman who is still leaking fluid from multiple locations lift a finger in housework is not helping.

10) The only people entitled to time with the baby are the parents. Whether they choose to have you at the hospital for the birth or ask for you to wait three weeks to visit, appreciate that you are are being given the privilege of seeing their child. Complaining or showing disappointment only encourages the parents to include you less.

I hope this helps- it sure makes me feel better.

Tank

7w5d
First of all - welcome to Nestie people who caught my link posting the other day when I hijacked The Next Nine Month's post (sorry about that). Second, there was a question from Jodi about posting tickers. Here's what I did - When I went to Lilypie, I created the new "Expecting Baby Mini" ticker. Then I just posted the HTML in the box on here on the right panel (where the ticker is). I hope you get it to work!

Now down to business. I just want to gush about what a tank of a car I have. The roads were pretty messy with snow today and I must say that my little front wheel drive Jetta is a TANK! Screw you people and your big expensive SUV's and trucks! You are usually the people I see spun out on the side of the road! Granted, I do have traction control, and yes I do own an SUV (if that's what you want to call it) for the next 6 days, but I am so happy I am turning that thing back in. The Jetta is so much better in the snow (and on the wallet)! All hail German engineering (did that make you happy husband?)!

I have noticed that my angry-driver road habits (I do not refer to it as rage, I don't take roids) are getting pretty funny with my pregnancy hormones going into full swing. There is this stretch of road on the way home from work that I have figured out the secret to. You must stay in the right lane. There are no left turning lanes, therefore if you get stuck behind someone in the left lane, you could be sitting there for a while.
So when I see Mr. I-Drive-This-Sweet-Souped-Up-Mustang-To-Make-Up-For-Smaller-Things fly by me one second only to get stopped behind the minivan turning left, is it bad that I laugh and point as I drive by? I swear it's like I am in the Daytona 500, and it's fun!
















My "tank race car".

Aversions (not only food)

1. Salmon. Or anything that smells fishy for that matter. I usually love seafood but lately I feel like if I am within 100 feet of something fishy I will sniff it out and likely gag.

2. The words "prego" or "preggers". I am not a jar of spaghetti sauce. I don't care if you spelled it with 2 g's. I am also not 5, or a high school student therefore I am also not "preggers" ::giggle giggle:: I am pregnant. Writing out preggers does not save your fingers any less typing. Same amount of letters.

3. My jeans. I think I am allergic. Every time I put them on I think to myself, "Will I ever fit into these again? Perhaps in a couple weeks when the bloat goes down?"
No?
Okay then.