Working Out

You get biceps like this gal from holding your baby all day long. In fact, I look just like her, except you need to add some spit up on the right shoulder. Can you picture it now? OK.

I do hold Vivian almost all day...in fact she is snoozing in my lap as I blog. I enjoy most days because I'm a snuggly kinda person (I know thats hard to imagine if you only know my blog and somewhat foul language). Its true, I hold my babies while I can. This however is hard for men to accomplish successfully for long periods of time (i.e. more than 2 minutes). It always amazes me that men are in charge of so much. They make more money, get much more respect from car salesmen, rule most countries...the list goes on. But it takes a little baby to incapacitate them. They cant stomach the poo, the crying, the puking, the midnight feedings, and other tough things like holding them. Its all too much for the stronger sex.

My father comes to visit Vivian and he gags when Vivian poos. And he can hardly keep her wiggly-self in his lap while he watches TV. Grandkid #2 is here, and the whole interaction thing is lost to him still.

Dexter grabs her up in his arms as soon as he gets home but gives her back almost immediately because of the serious case of instantaneous bowel movements. He also cant seem to figure out how to hold her without getting baby-elbow.

Both of these men went to Georgia Tech and are very very intelligent, but leave it up to Vivian to make them seem a little less than manly men who cant take poopy diapers and extra long baby holding sessions. I hold this kid all day all while I do laundry, wash dishes, type emails, facebook, make calls, cook dinner and play cars--ONE HANDED. So since I am superior to men in this aspect I wanted to brag about my awesomeness.

I almost made it through a post without some positiveness--sorry to disappoint all you glass-half-empty moms out there. It happens every now and then--but trust me it only lasts till the kids wake from their naps :)

Squishy

Squishy is a funny little word, especially when it comes from the mouth of your three year old when he describes his family jewels. Motherhood is truly entertaining.

Flip got out of the shower and after toweling off he runs around "free" while I chase him and call him Naked Baby--to his giggled delight (I cannot wait to torture him later in life by threatening to tell this to a girlfriend).

And as always when young boys are "free" those little hands gotta grab something. For those of you who dont know, the family jewels are a built in toy for boys. I never knew this--which is how I got pregnant in the first place. No, not really, but I grew up with three sisters and so I never knew that boys found their body so fascinating at such a young age; and of course we all know that the fascination continues into adulthood (honestly, I thought that all started with puberty).

Back to the story...So Flip, aka Naked Baby, is running around and he stops next to me, spreads his legs like he is doing a jumping-jack and grabs himself. "Mom, why is this so squishy?" I was trying so hard not to bust out laughing, but I did manage to get out that he needed to ask his father. I always try to include Dexter in child rearing--its only fair.

So at the age of three the awkward questions begin.

Mute Button

All I want for Christmas is a mute button for Flip. He always picks the worst time to say things. A great example was a church tonight...

There was a Christmas performance this evening at church and the kids, including Flip, had 2 songs to sing. It was very cute. Afterwards the kids ran to find their parents and sat with us for the adult choir. Flip was getting antsy so I made him come with me to the ladies room.

I had to go, you know #2, and so I made Flip come in the stall because I still cant leave him unsupervised for that long. As I was going we discussed different things like what the handicap bars were for, why you cannot look under the partition into the other stall--you know, bathroom conversation.

We were alone so I was not self conscious about going #2 at all until I heard the door open. Someone else has to go too. Thats when the bathroom conversation went South (sorry couldnt help that). All the sudden Flip wants to talk poop. Really really really loudly Flip says, "Momma, why are you poopin?" "Momma why are you taking so long?" "Momma, I dont like it when you poop."

I know everyone poops, but I dont need that broadcasted to the entire ladies room. I wish at that moment that toddlers had a mute button.

sleep

Coffee is the only way I survive. Im told its not good for nursing moms to drink, but I think passing along a little caffeine is better than me screaming at everyone.

Flip sleeps in his own bed...till about 4 in the morning, then he heads to my bed. Its a king, but 2 adults, a baby and toddler really take away that spacious effect. I co-sleep and I dont care if you think thats weird or bad. It works for me. I sleep more that way, and trust me, a well rested Vicki is a nice Vicki.

I hear that I have to wait a decade from when the last kid is born till I can actually make it through the night uninterrupted, but by then I will probably have incontinence or something old ladies get. SHIT.

Harry Potter

Harry Potter is on and we are at the part where he gets his dad's invisibility cloak. Is it wrong that Im jealous of the cloak?

I cant believe I never told you!!!

Vivian is 4 months old and I never told you about the day she entered the world. Well, here it goes:

Water breaks
Ow
Labor
Ow ow ow
epidural
Ow ow ow ow
Why is the epidural not working?!?!?!?
Ow ow ow ow ow
Push
Ow ow ow ow ow ow - I hate you Dexter!
enter Vivian!

Ow.

Yes, Vivian came very fast. My epidural never fully kicked in, so, Yes, I felt it. And yes, it still hurts--but not nearly as bad as when Vivian came out.

half way there

A few hours after Vivian entered the world, Dexter leans over to say what I thought would be like "You are the awesomest woman ever" or "I love you, you did great." NO, he leans over and says "we are half way there."

Before I had actually gone through pregnancy and childbirth I had agreed with Dexter that 4 kids sounded just dandy. Just think of all the cute little outfits, the snuggles, artwork sent home from school, soccer games and baking cookies and Christmas--boy that would be fun.

So um, yeah, that whole pregnancy thing SUCKS and the labor thing really is a punishment from God. No person could think that up--here is a 9 lbs person with a big head...lets make it come out of that hole...well, you know how it all works. And then the kid comes home with you.

And so after going through labor times 2, the last thing a gal wants to hear is that her husband is fully expecting her to go through that 2 MORE times. Im pretty sure that I gave Dexter the same exact look I gave him while I was having a bad contraction.

Isnt there a class or something for guys on what to say and when? If you know of one, please contact me.

so much fun!

All the magazines, tv shows, commercials, and stories out there are paint the picture that motherhood is all sunshine and lollipops. We are always smiling with a nice button down shirt, khakis, and our hair and makeup look great. Life as a mom is great--so they say.

In reality its poopy diapers stinking up the constantly messy house. Its too much laundry but you cannot find that ONE black shirt that hides your baby pooch. Its "mamma, mamma, mamma" and "why, why, why." Its you just laid down for the night and the baby starts to cry. Its bypassing the cute pair of earrings at Target so you have enough money for diapers. Its never getting out the door fast--ever again. Its whining, complaining, crying, pitching fits and neediness. And its certainly not all about you.

I love my children, but they cost money--lots of it. Dexter now works a second job till my real estate business picks up--which it wont be till these toddlers stop demanding so much of my time. So I stay at home while he works long days and weekends. Its very trying. He is tired when he comes home and the kids take his last bit of energy. Mine is sapped by 6pm and so is my patience.

So no money, no hubby, lots of everything else. And to top it off, Flip decided he would retaliate from my discipline by pulling back and hitting me today...ahhh, motherhood is grand.

Poor little Flip

This is a continuation of my previous rant - I mean post. Flip really does get put on the back burner these days. And nothing breaks my heart more than seeing him passed by for the new baby. I know Vivian is cute and sweet and fun to hold but she wont remember a bit of the attention she gets...on the other hand, Flip does.

He is a boy, a guy's guy. He wants to run and chase, kick and throw, and most of all his little heart desires nothing more than to play cars. This fact no matter how well he verbalizes this, it is completely lost on anyone but me - yes, even on Dexter.

All he wants to do every waking moment is play cars. He works out his thoughts, problems, and many of the scenarios he encounters through his cars. Its absolutely adorable. He has the best little vocabulary and will love you forever if you just sit down with him to play.

Flip does not want to bake, watch you watch tv or play on the computer, talk to you on the phone, color (for longer than 3 minutes), or any of those other boring activities. He just wants to play cars. And if you want to be his favorite grandparent/aunt/uncle/friend then you know what you need to do...

I need some Vivian time

The phone rings and I rush to it hoping the kids will sleep through it (one of these days I will learn to silence it before I put them down for a nap). Its a grandparent on the other line claiming that they are in desperate need of Vivian time. Apparently poor Flip is now put on the back burner--he is no longer interesting to them b/c he requires attention and the baby can just be held.

So we arrange a meet up. That means I get to deliver my kids to them, which means I get to pack up half the house, bathe them, make sure they have on the outfits that the grandparent we are visiting bought for them and DRIVE to the grandparent's house. But before we get out of the neighborhood we have to go back to the house to get the item or two we inevitably forget. Then we are really on the road by the second attempt.

Driving is awful! Sweet little Vivian does not - I repeat - does not like car rides. She cries and squirms and cries so more. I jiggle her seat, reach back and keep her pacifier in her mouth, sing, hold her little hand...but she still hates it. And that makes me hate it.

So we get there and Flip is ignored so he begs me to to play with him. Vivian falls asleep and is ok till she gets poked too much by the grandparents wanting to see her hand/foot/lips. So she wakes up and cries. So I have to feed her, which means that Flip is now alone since everyone wants to hold a baby not REALLY pay attention to that other kid of mine.

Then I finally get Vivian asleep again and its time to go. Gosh, doesnt that just sound like awesome fun!! The great part is the drive home...Flips unspoken, but noticeable disappointment from being virtually, Vivian's crying, and the hour in the car sitting in Atlanta traffic. And they wonder why I dont want to do it every single weekend.

Where are all the Southern gentlemen?

Vivian is growing by leaps and bounds. She has chubby little legs and and arms--its wonderful. But that also means my little butterball is heavy! She is pushing 15lbs and add the weight of the car seat I haul around everywhere and I get a little workout all day long.

Now what Im wondering is why the hell does no other person not see how obviously heavy this child + car seat is and open the DAMN door for me. Huh? Or Im I just more observant and courteous that holding open a door after I pass through is just second nature.

The other day Im dropping off the weed eater at the shop to get serviced and I ended up having to park on the hill just outside the shop. The guy inside watches me try to keep the door open while getting Vivian and the car seat out of the car, then we head around to the back, open the trunk and get an equally heavy weed eater, then we trudge up the rest of the hill to enter the shop. Guess who finally got up off his stool to talk to me. I thought I might have to go pick him up too. I sure hope he was entertained.

Does no one see what is wrong in this little story?

Diamonds

I made a deal with Dex when we talked about having kids. I said I better get a big thank you in the form of something sparkly for pushing out kids. To be specific, I said a carat a kid.

So all I have to ask is has anyone see my diamond hoop earrings? No? Hmmm, maybe Dexter left them at the jewelers. I better go ask (again)...

WTF#3

There is a black hole in which all socks go. I cannot locate it, but its here in my house. It destroys only socks, never trash, never dirty laundry. Just all the socks. Someone or something is out to get me.

WTF#2

I hate football! I hate it, hate it, hate it. During the Fall I see very little of Dexter (which means I see a lot of my little ones). He coaches soccer along with working a regular 9 to 5 for extra mullah, but its because he insists on me having all these kids. Diapers aint free!

So besides leaving at the crack of dawn to do an office job, he coaches 2 nights a week and then 2-4 games a weekend. It takes a lot of his time, but I never complain about him working so hard. What I can and do complain about is the additional time he takes to watch football. College ball, pro ball, soccer--you know what, if it has a ball in the game he is watching it. Thats what guys do b/c the two they were born with just isnt enough. Oh, ONE MORE--the tour de France. So sports season starts in July and ends in January of the following year.

Dexter is practically glued to the TV during the "season" and he watches intently as his team (which is any team playing no matter what college or city they are based in) plays. The bad thing is that he records them. So he can pause them to play with the kids, but strangely he still says "One more minute" quite frequently. This is a disturbing trend because he told me the reason we pay extra for the DVR is so he can pause it or watch it later in order to spend more time with us--you know, his family.

I hate sports. And never ever believe the lie about getting the DVR to spend more time with you. No, its to record two games playing at the same time. DVR is evil--pure evil.

Long time, no post

Well, my adoring fans thats what happens when you have kids. Eating and sleeping come before blogging. But fear not--I have lots to bitch about...

I think I will title my next series of rants "WTF."

WTF 1:
Apparently holding a baby causes instantaneous bowel movements in Dexter. Seriously, within mere minutes of relieving me of the little Vivian I get called back. I have held that (sweet, adorable) child ALL DAY LONG and you cant let me have 5 minutes to myself.

Come on! When are moms supposed to shower, eat, relax our arm, or go to the potty ourselves. FRICK, its annoying. I even called Dexter out on it and he doesnt believe me. I told him to do "that" at work. I swear men just dont get it. And its not the baby, everyday I love my little girl more and more, but a little help from #1 dad (or should I say #2 dad) would be welcome.

He works all day to pay the bills, but he doesnt get what I have termed Vivian-elbow. Its like a tennis elbow, but comes from holding a heavy baby for long periods of time. So now its like a running joke at our house...Dexter just approaches me smiling. He knows Im right. He heads to the head and I get to cuddle a little more.

If this happens to you, just remember to NOT let them take the phone with them--too many games.

How I feel today

This about sums it up...

thank you notes & lame gifts

Nothing pisses me off more (today) than having to write thank you notes. Im not an ungrateful person, but I think that gift giving should be just that, not gift giving then expect a thank you note. I think that is tacky--as tacky as not writing a note.

Seriously, think about it. I have a newborn and a crazy 3 yr old. Do you think I have time for notes? I mean I just have to constantly monitor, feed, and clean up after these kids. Then there is lunch to be made, laundry to be done and a house to straighten up. I like sleep too and lets not forget I also try to make money doing my real estate job. Please dont add another activity to my list.

However, I am a good Southern girl and my momma taught me to write notes, so I do. I can still be annoyed at the folks that expect one though.

Next I need to vent on the topic of lame gifts. So a friend comes to visit bearing a nicely wrapped gift. Im keeping my fingers crossed for diapers, wipes or some expensive church outfit that I want but am too cheap to buy. As I take out the $5 worth of tissue paper another piggy bank is revealed. Oh good, I can add that to the piggy bank collection that now is at a grand total of 8. That comes out to 4 per kid. And no money to put in them b/c I still have to buy diapers.

Under no circumstances is anyone to buy a piggy bank for a child because someone else has already done it. Trust me. Go ahead and add stuffed animals to the useless gift list. I have a whole box of stuffed animals. They sit in the closet. But you know what I dont have a lot of...DIAPERS.

So the next baby shower you go to, buy diapers, diapers, wipes or diapers. Dont even go down the piggy bank aisle.

Now precious Flip has been annoying the crap out of me since Im not paying him 100% attention for 5 minutes, so Im going to sign off and bang my head against the wall a few times.

Mooooo

Im a cow. Im nursing my sweet little Vivian aka Piglet and I can already envision the day when I will throw away my 36 H bra--yes thats right H. These things are huge and heavy. Dexter thinks they are awesome, but too bad since they are off limits for him.

I know its good for the baby to nurse and its kinda cute when they snuggle down for a meal, but after a month Im missing my C cup, running, and my back not aching. Plus nursing in public is not fun. Im too modest for all that. I have been retreating to the car if Vivian gets hungry while we are out and about.

And then there is Flip who has started to ask about my boobs way too much..."Why does Vivian eat that way?" I dont like discussing my boobs with my 3 yr old--Ya know.

Baby smell

People often comment on how babies smell. They certainly have a distinct smell...its a mixture of Johnson's Baby shampoo, poop and throw up. And thats all I have to say about that.

time for an update

Yes, I know its been months. When you get to be the whale of a woman that I was right before I had my little girl, all you want to do is lay down with the fan and a/c on full blast. I mean, I wanted to complain via blogging, I just lacked the energy.

So my little bundle of joy, Vivian, joined us a little over a month ago and Im happy to report that she is one easy baby. I had the pleasure of a super fast labor--although it was too fast for the epidural to kick in completely. I was like one of those women on TV that screams her head off while clutching the bed and giving eat shit looks to her husband. But Vivian came and I admit, I have already fallen a victim of the amnesia phenomenon.

Motherhood x 2 is quite a lot of work. And Flip is not making it any easier. He is in his "why" stage which is cute for like a minute. But now that we have been in it for a solid 3 months Im ready to ram my head against the wall. He asks me EVERY time I feed Vivian "Why is she hungry?" Why does she need to eat all the time?" "Why does she make those noises?" "Why does she burp?" And that lasts the entire time. Argh.

The questions are asked for every activity..."Why does she need her diaper changed?" "Why does she poop?" "Why is she crying?" "Why is she sleepy?" "Why does she want to be held?"

"WHY?" "WHY?" "WHY?" "WHY?" "WHY?" "WHY?" "WHY?" "WHY?"

"Why me?"

Big

Its the wee hours of the morning and I am up because it seems impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep. And as I ponder life and how to convince my husband I never want to experience pregnancy again my mind drifts to things that--to put it mildly--piss me off.

Today I was thinking about my recent outings. And it seems that every time I run into someone they are compelled to say something like this: "Wow, you're big!" Then the look at me expectantly for a response. I want to say "No shit Sherlock", but I have started to just stare. I really hate that comment. I don't want to hear it--I already live it every single day. I'm uncomfortable beyond words and if there is a moment in the day that I can take my mind off this state of being I absolutely relish it.

Here is an idea for all you non pregnant people out there...talk about something else! If I had a dime for every time I was asked when I'm due, do you know what you're having, how do you feel then I think I would have enough money to send both my kids to college and pay off my student loans.

It gets old...fast. When you see a pregnant gal, be nice--give her your seat--and be creative, ask her about work or her garden so something. And under no circumstances tell her she is big!

Put that cookie down

So I was at a school function for little Flip and another mom struck up a conversation with me. It consisted of the same ole, same ole that I get now that I'm really showing. When are you due? What are you having? Blah Blah Blah.

But then this lady throws in a little something extra...she said to me that I better put down the cookie I was eating. It was a small cookie and it came with the sack lunches that the school provided. Why does everyone else get to eat the cookie, unharrased, but me? Why does she feel the need to lecture me on my eating habits. WTF!!

Do I look fat, oh yeah I do--I'm pregnant. And since I spent the first 6 months of my pregnancy befriending my toilet I'm going to eat whatever the hell I want (as long as it doesn't give me heartburn). FRICK. How rude. Just because she got fat and never lost it, doesnt mean I will.

Im going to take a blogging break and go eat some cookies--lots of them.

whats in a name?

As you can probably guess I have some strong opinions. And that doesnt change when it comes to naming my kid. Apparently other people are just as opinionated about naming MY kid. This is strange to me.

Everyone has to tell me what I should name my baby or whether or not they like some of the names I picked. I didn't learn my lesson with Flip, I should just say "I haven't decided yet" or "I have to see her first." But alas, I don't and people just get on my nerves--big surprise.

If you really like a name, then you should have a kid of your own. I wont interfer with the naming process; I promise! Seriously, Im going through all this crap to have the kid and some people actually think that I will use their favorite name...HAHAHAHA. Dexter even thinks at this point his opinion on names matters. That's funny too.

24 hour bug

My sister calls me up as she heads home from work...she has just puked. I feel bad for her, because I know all to well what that feels like. But she goes on and on about how weak and horrible she feels.

She is still sick the next day and calls to tell me. I try (really I do) to be sympathetic, but I let this slip: "OK, now imagine spending 5 1/2 months feeling like that everyday." There was a silence. Yeah, because no 24 hour bug can ever compete with a miserable pregnancy. Sorry sis...However, I did recommend a really good, easy on the stomach diet for her :)

Bratty on the Brat Diet

For those of you that dont know, when you are pregnant and constantly sick the doctors will recommend the BRAT diet. It consists of bananas, rice, apples and toast. Since I was sick FOREVER (now its just one or two days a week--can you imagine saying this "oh I'm only bed-ridden and nauseous two days a week, I'm so happy!" Yeah, I didn't think so) I have been sticking to this diet for the majority of my pregnancy. I throw in a turkey or ham sandwich to mix things up.

But guess what gals...carbs make you gain unneccesary weight and in all the places you dont want it. Like your legs and love handles. But if this is the only thing you can eat without wanting to vom, then this is what you eat. Needless to say, the BRAT diet makes me bratty. And I was already really good at that to begin with.

Do you see maybe even a little why I'm not having any fun?

I can complain!

My sister informed me that I haven't been complaining lately...well, I can change that for my adoring audience. Lets see what part of my 10 month journey is particularly troublesome, physically I'm much larger--obviously--and that makes bending over, tying shoes and cutting toe nails increasingly difficult. Soon Dexter will be painting my toenails for me. He did this when I was pregnant with Flip (I have pictures) because I cried about my feet in stirrups with chipped polish--Horrors! Like that even crossed my mind while I was in labor. I don't think I could ever be big like this permanently, I would loose weight just because my belly is so annoying.

Another thing that is happening is the my stomach is getting squished even more. So there is less room for food and if I eat more that a few ounces I get heartburn and burp like my dad. Its not very ladylike. So now I graze every hour and I'm back on a bland diet to keep the heartburn situation under control. I still have three months and it will only get worse. Joy!

Speaking of getting worse, my veins on my legs are so incredibly painful. Even with a compressive brace it just burns. And its running up my leg (and to other areas that makes anything you do uncomfortable) so basically it looks real gross. I don't like to look at it, so I feel bad for everyone else that does especially now that its shorts weather--no, I really don't care, but I am getting some major procedures done after all the breeding is over with. The leg veins will be smoothed out and the girls are going back where they belong!

All I gotta say is that you better think long and hard before you decide to have kids, because if you are the slighest bit vain like me then its going to take someone with an MD at the end of their name to fix the problems that pregnancy brings about.

I do have some good news though...the ultrasound shows that I will be having a girl. Yeah! We needed a little more estrogen in the house (no doubt I will laugh at this thought when she turns 16). Although we did even it out a little since we got the puppy neutered, but he still annoys the hell out of me. Dexter actually asked if I would love on the puppy some since the puppy wouldn't leave him alone. HA! Just the other day he was talking about getting another. HAHAHA! Right, let me add another helpless creature to my list of stuff that I have to watch over that cant poop in the toilet. In fact, lets get another right now...

I dont get it sometimes, I really dont.

i feel bad...again

As I wallow in my bed before forcing myself to get up for the day I ask myself "When will this end?" Unfortunately I know the answer...when I have the baby. I running out of humorous things to say because this isn't all that funny anymore. I'm just plain miserable.

Poor, sweet Dexter rubbed my feet the other day which was lovely. He has been doing the dishes too because around 7 pm I'm done for the day. He asked me yesterday if he could get me anything. I said "July." I think its starting to sink in for him that this isn't great for me.

I have started to contemplate having a c-section. I have no idea if my doctor with comply, but the thought of recovery on top of 9 (really folks its 10 months-40 wks) months of just feeling like crap is making me tear up right now.

My next project that I want to tackle is to figure out how to do a Jedi mind trick so I don't even have to convince Dexter that 2 kids is enough. He wants 4--no really he wants 12--but I originally agreed to 4. Its important to note that I agreed to 4 children before I ever got pregnant. Now that I know about pregnancy and motherhood, I really think that 2 is plenty. I haven't the slightest idea of how he will be happy with just 2 kids unless he comes up with it on his own...any suggestions?

feel the burn

Its 1:30 in the morning and I have had heartburn now for 4 hours. I looked online for some advice or natural remedy since my 4 Tums haven't made a dent yet. What I found just pisses me off. Most websites say not to eat spicy or fatty foods. It just so happens that I haven't...in 6 months without puking it up immediately. So today my diet consisted of 2 turkey sandwiches, a muffin, a bowl of cereal and half a banana. HOW does that give me heartburn?!?! I'm starving for some real food.

It all goes back to the hormones. I hate hormones, I really do. Apparently the hormones relax your stomach so much that the reflux is inevitable. So the bigger I get, the more heartburn will come. And the further along I get, the more I realize I never ever wish to experience the "joy" of pregnancy again. I still have 4 months of this to go through. All I have to say is this kid better be one awesome.

Dexter's company has a cleaning lady that is on her 11th (yes 11th) pregnancy. She drinks and smokes and says she never has been sick for one of hers--ever. Don't worry, she is giving the baby up for adoption, but come on...why does the gal with no regard for her unborn child get the easy way when I--someone who wants her child--have the most miserable consecutive 6 months I have ever experienced. Oh yeah, I forgot, life just aint fair.

I really hate everyone who is sleeping soundly tonight. Maybe I should wake Dexter up so he knows what I'm going through for him. That's a good idea, he hasn't heard me complain since a little before he went to bed.

Dont complain to me

Normally I am a pretty sympathetic person and can sit and listen to young and old alike while they talk about what is bothering them. I even pick up what Dexter calls a "lost puppy" every few years. For those that dont know, a lost puppy is an individual that is friendless, usually overweight and in general down about life. For lack of a better word, I collect lost puppies. And you know what they say when you feed a stray dog--it keeps coming back.

It just so happens that these lost puppies of mine are constantly complaining to me. Not that I dont care, but--no actually right now I dont care about anyone's step brother-in-law's drama or how you cant seem to loose weight because I cant make it to the gym with you like I used to before I barfed all the time.

Im sorry folks, my sympathy is currently all used up--ON ME! So dont come whining to me about your husband, your smoking habit, your job problems etc. I just dont feel like caring. And if you had listened to an inkling of what Im going through you would shut up and bring me some freakin chocolate.

Its not just the lost puppies that complain to me. My sisters (of all people) even whine about their monthly visit from mother nature. Wah, wah, wah! So they have cramps for a few days and maybe a headache. Seriously?!?! I dont want to hear about it. For the love of all things good, try and cheer me up--at least until July. When my hormones are back to normal then I promise to listen and pretend to care...

Every time you feel like like life has handed you a lemon then you need to come see me. I can convince just about anyone that any situation is better than a horrbile pregnancy...trust me.

I dont know you, so why are you touching my stomach?

There is one thing that I will never understand...if you dont know someone, then why on earth do you think its acceptable to touch their stomach? Anyone? You shake hands on a first meeting and then take a step away so that you are the customary 3 ft apart. Thats how I have always done it.

Apparently when you have a basketball belly people forget common courtesy and instead of shaking your hand or standing back just to say hello they go straight for the belly. I can always tell a belly rubber by the look in their eyes. I have even had someone at the grocery store walk out of her way to rub my stomach and ask me when I was due.

Its usually a two handed rub too. And frankly, it weirds me out. My boobs are so big now that there isnt much space between them and my stomach so you can see how this is worrisome. I have never been a touchy feely kind of person. Im not a hugger and I dont touch my friends' arm or back when I talk to them. Im just a straight forward, no nonsense hand shaker.

Its kind of like when you have a low cut shirt and guys cant help but stare, except this time the lookers actually touch you too. Guys do show some restraint in this area. I have only been given spontaneous, uninvited belly rubs by women I dont know. Guys I know, know me well enough to not touch me--or they ask. I mean, its not like this happens at any other time of my life. I have never been given a belly rub down while not pregnant. I just dont get it!

The moral of the story kids is very similar to the wise saying "dont talk to strangers," I just changed it a bit..."dont touch strangers--preggo gals included." And for heavens sake, if you cannot control yourself then at least ask if its ok. Its not like we can run away fast enough. I think the next time it happens, Im just going to rub their stomach in response (not matter what condition the person is in). I will definitely let you know the responses I get...

How are you feeling?

In the South when someone asks how you are feeling you are supposed to answer "good" or "fine." You see people don't really want to hear a rundown of your medications and symptoms, they just automatically ask. If you answer anything other than "good" or "fine" you usually get mock concern or the questioner rolls their eyes and then makes a mental note not to ask you the next time. You will find that once you get to a certain age the ability just to answer the expected "good" decreases. This used to annoy me some since old people would never stop talking about whats ails them.

Now that Im pregnant I can completely understand. There is nothing else on my mind except this baby. So what else can I talk about? I dont go out, shop, have wonderful vacations, my time with friends is limited to when I can simultaneously find a sitter for Flip and feel good enough to meet up. But I can talk all day about how good I DONT feel. I have a new found sympathy for old people.

Unfortunately my hormones make that sympathy short lived, since it is my hormones that make me feel so awful all the time anyway. My hormones also make me hate this question. How do I feel? AWFUL! My legs hurt, my back hurts, my boobs, stomache and head hurt. My organs are being shoved up into my rib cage and my bladder is barely in existence between my new baby and my pelvis. Do you really want to know all this?!?! But like a good Southern girl, I must simply respond "fine."

I was responding "better," but I got too many confused or blank looks. I mean its true, Im not puking (or the other) everyday. Oh look, the silver lining...

im pregnant, not broken

I was uber-excited when I got a referral from a friend. The real estate market has left me with too much time on my hands lately. I did all my research and had a great listing presentation ready. I show up, shake the guys hand and immediately he notices my baby bump. So naturally the conversation goes to when Im due. Then he asks, "Is this going to be a problem?"

WHAT?!?! A problem, for work? Um, NO. Im pregnant not broken or incapcitated. Geez. I know I bitch and compain a lot, but thats under an alter ego that not that many people see; in real life--especially work life--I'm capable, waddling Vicki.

I didnt realize I would be so insulted. Obviously the guy didnt understand that pregnant women can do stuff--its new mothers that cant. I can still live life, just with a few minor adjustments. For instance the AC is blasting much earlier than normal, I eat more often, nap if I need to and it takes me longer to take a flight of stairs. I am not impaired!! I am not broken!!

Not sure if I'm going to get the job now...not sure if its because I'm growing the next generation in my belly right now. He told me he would let me know. hmm. Maybe I dont want to list his condo anyway.

a short one

I was shopping for shirts to fit over my expanding belly and found one that said "you are my sunshine" written across the middle. I immediately put that one back on the rack. I was looking for the shirt that says "you make me sick." I never found it.

sleep

The last time I slept through the night consistently was before Flip was born. I have been napping ever since to make up for lost time. Even at 3 Flip still doesn’t sleep through the night. So he normally spends part or all of the night in our bed—I know some of y’all are cringing at that thought, but I didn’t ask you. On the nights that Flip starts out it his own bed, he comes to me around 4 am. And I think that is pretty good especially since I was told I shouldn’t expect to sleep well till all my kids are past the age of ten.
Then my genius husband and I agreed to get a puppy—really I just finally gave in to his request; which is also the reason I am pregnant again. I’m starting to see a troublesome pattern here. It just so happens that one week later I got the plus sign on the little stick.
So guess who is really not sleeping well now…ME! I am a light sleeper; if a pin drops in my house at night I hear it. Only my night time hearing is effective, during the day I’m practically deaf. We had to get a new mattress so I would feel Dexter’s tossing and turning at night (we got a king so he would stay on his side too). Now we add a whining puppy to the wakeful Flip, tossing Flip, morning (all day) sickness, and my suddenly small bladder.
It’s not like we pregnant ladies are tired—right. We can go on 2 or 3 hours of sleep like the good ole college days. At least that’s what my husband thinks. I had to tell him multiple times that the dog is his, so he better take him out. I gave in a few times and took him out since I was already up to pee, but I didn’t want Dexter getting the wrong idea so I stopped. Train ‘em early is what I say. Funny how my dogs are better behaved than my kid…
Dexter has always been a heavy sleeper. He needs 2, sometimes 3, alarms to wake him (I’m the third, kicking usually works). I have been trying to lay the ground rules that you set your alarm when you want to wake up, not an hour and a half before. He doesn’t seem to get it. And guess what, I wake up and kick him to turn the damn alarm off and Dexter merely rolls over. I think he and Flip should share a room till the baby is born.
I am born with an internal alarm. No matter how late I stay up or how many times I wake during the night I am up at the same time in the morning. I am going to start praying that along with patience for me that GOD give Dexter an internal alarm. Then I will take a baseball bat and break his alarm. I smile just picturing that.
Do y’all miss coffee like I do? Oh man, not drinking my morning cup has really messed with my routine. I am supplementing with caffeine free tea and it’s just not the same. I cheat some days and order a tall vanilla latte at Starbucks and it’s so good. There is nothing like restricting my caffeine when im dead tired. I think that those doctors just say that to piss us preggo girls off more. I’m not even going to get into the fact that I cannot drink my wine (for those of you that don’t know of this drink, it’s the one that men use to get women pregnant).
I cannot believe that it took a doctor this long to tell me this, but I go in for my month 5 prenatal check and I am scheduled with a male doctor (I am a prude so this is freaking me out a little). It was a normal check up until he asked a question I never heard uttered from any female doctors mouth. He asked if there was anything else bothering me. I quietly say that I still suffer from constant nausea, then timidly look into his face. Guess what is there—SIMPATHY! He feels badly for me that I have woken up every day for the last 4 months and either puked or felt like it. The female doctors would make some remark like “well, you’re pregnant, that’s to be expected.” But not this guy, he got his pen out and told me a little remedy that can ease some of that…vitamin B6 and one unisom taken in the morning and at night. That’s it? Why has no one bothered to tell me this till halfway through my second pregnancy, hmm? Oh wait, I just figured it out; I have been seeing female doctors up until this moment. They went through it so I guess I have to as well...HAHA, not anymore!
It does work. The point of this little side story is that now I take a unisom twice a day, so guess what. I’m so freaking TIRED. No good sleep, no coffee, the puppy, Fip and the never ending alarms. So you can only imagine how sweet I really am in the morning and really all day till Flip's and my naptime.

phone call

Dexter works a lot. He has to since I can't really. So that leaves me with Flip for most of the day and a few evenings during the week. He is a good man, but he still has to work on a few things.

Most of the time we play phone tag and on those days when he finally gets a hold of me its late and watching Flip makes for a very long day. He calls me tonight and Flip is making a ton of noise with a toy (which I discovered later was him permanently ruining my hardwood floors). Along with the noise is my hunger/hormones so Dexter says to me, as he is headed to play in his league soccer game, that its "difficult to talk to me." Wait, was that irritation?!?! Its almost 9pm, Flip is going downhill fast, the dogs are barking, Im hungry and in my usual horrible mood and he is irritated.

WHOA WHOA WHOA. He has got it all wrong. He is going to play--PLAY--as in for fun. And Im at home with insane-o child, the uncontrollable puppy, a headache that has been there all day (you know this list could go on for a lot longer). Well, forgive me for not answering the phone with a "good evening, my love." I cant hear and I certainly dont want a rundown of his day at that precise moment. HONESTLY what does he expect??!?!

I think dads need to stay at home at least 1 day a month to be reminded of the constant chaos. Then if they decide to call they will remember to just ask if there is anything the mom needs and to say they are coming home as fast as they can (since they remember that having an audience every time you pee gets old).

beauty

I hate it when someone says pregnant women are beautiful. Some certainly are, but no one believes it--at least while they are pregnant. People say it to make us preggo gals feel better about ourselves while we lug around all that extra weight.

I didnt shower sometimes for 3 days because I wasnt able to stand up with out getting sick (the last thing I needed was to have to clean the shower out). And since I was so sick I wasnt brushing my teeth either because my toothpaste made me gag. Try to find the beauty in that.

Then there is the surge of hormones that creates the "glow" for some, but for the rest of us (me included) its like we have the face of a 15 yr old boy. I had to go buy the specialty acne medicine so I could go out in public--if my stomach allowed it.

Lets see what else...oh, varicose veins. Thats another of my new experiences with this pregnancy. The vein bulges every time I move and it goes all the way up and down my leg. It frightens Dexter because it looks as though it will burst at any moment. And the doctor says there is nothing to do for it except wear support hose. Thats going to be fun in July.

And lets not forget stretch marks, swollen fingers and ankles, the mean manufacturers that make those hideous maternity clothes and last but not least--the whale look! And for your information NO pregnant woman ever wants to hear that her waddle is cute.

If you see a pregnant woman, give up your seat or the closest spot in the parking lot. And please be nice to her, especially now that you have an inkling of what we must go through.

friends

When I first got pregnant I was alone in the sense that none of my friends were starting families. Not many 23 years are these days. But now that some years have past a few friends have joined the mom club—three of them. Often they would come to me and ask questions or just to chat about the changes in the bodies or lives, but none of my three friends had difficult pregnancies. In fact, all of them said they loved being pregnant and can’t wait to do it again. BARF!
I posted a picture on facebook of my protruding belly and got lots of great compliments. My sisters know the difficult time I’m having with this pregnancy and so they offered consolation in the form of sarcasm (they know me so well). Such as “you’re glowing” or “I bet you are having so much fun.” The glowing part is true, that’s the oil slick on my face that my hormones continuously pump out, but in case you haven’t figured it out yet, the answer is NO, I’m not enjoying being pregnant.
So one of my friends that had a great pregnancy sees my picture on facebook, but also the comments about my struggle with nausea et al and says to me that despite my constant pain, sickness and fatigue I have great boobs. YES folks I’m busting out of my D bra and life is beautiful. I hope to stay pregnant my whole adult life so I can have great boobs.
Another friend of mine keeps telling me how wonderful her pregnancy was so she can’t offer any advice about morning sickness. NO, she doesn’t say it once, not even twice, but three times. Well I’m just thrilled for her that she never got sick. Incidentally, three is my cutoff for mistakes that I will accept from friends. I will not speak to her until my amnesia has kicked in again. And it’s a darn good thing she lives in another state.
Or what about the friends who aren’t parents yet and they still ask you to come out to clubs or bars? I guess its nice that they still invite me—right? WRONG, I don’t want to think about my lack of freedom; and I said before I don’t want to get started on not drinking**. Or my favorite is one of dexter’s good friends asking if we wanted to go skiing. Sure lets hop on a plane with the crazy 3 yr old, fly cross country and let dexter ski while I puke in the friend’s toilet and run after Flip in a non baby-proofed condo. Sounds great, lets go now. What the F*ck are guys thinking?
So basically im limiting my friendships (while pregnant) to girls who had as rough at time (or rougher) that me while carrying their little bundles of poop-making criers—I mean bundles of joy. So that means I get to talk to my mom...

Boobs

I thought I had stripper boobs the first time, but oh man, are these things huge. Most women would be thrilled have nice, full breast at least till they realize how incredibly painful they can be. Dexter liked to look at them, but that was all I allowed. They hurt so much I could barely manage a shirt with a shelf bra. Then there is Flip constantly elbowing me. I thought that they might explode. It looked like it too. So the boobs aren’t all that great. They hurt, you get stretch marks, they hurt, you cant find bras big enough, the hurt, you have to deflect water from the shower head, and did I mention they hurt. So the last thing on my mind is what fun the girls will be for Dexter. I usually dress in a separate room from him in fear that he might forget how incredibly painful they are and grab them. The thought makes my eyes tear up.
The doctor told me they would stop being so tender after my first trimester—more LIES. They still hurt; they are still growing, and are off limits to Dexter. Poor Dexter.
I gave up and got my maternity clothes out. But every shirt I tried on would not hold the girls in properly. CRAP! Its no fun shopping for ugly clothes that make you feel even fatter than you already are. Dexter was surprised when I came home a few days one week with shopping bags. What the hell was I supposed to wear, hmm? Besides I don’t pine after poorly made, overpriced maternity clothes. I just had to have something to fit my ever growing boobs and belly in. Then I had a wedding to go to so I had to buy a dress to fit into as well. Dexter actually asked me why I didn’t wear a dress I bought a few months ago…um, maybe because I cannot zip it up! Seriously, he has a degree…
So I have ugly clothes to go over my ugly bra that holds my aching breast that Dexter can’t touch. It just can’t get more fun than that!

Work all day, facebook all night

Dexter is the breadwinner in the family and is very good as his job. I am proud of him and appreciate his hard work. Now that I said that let me begin my daily rant.

Why is it that the first thing this man does when he gets home is start a game on the computer or sit in front of the TV. I don't care how rough his day was...he still got a break for lunch and spent its entirety speaking with adults--none of which he had to change their diaper because they pooped. I understand he may need some time to ponder or just be quiet, but that's what Atlanta traffic is for. He gets a good 45 minutes each way to himself.

I, on the other hand, am going non stop after Flip or the dogs. And believe me that is a full time job. So think of potty training, puppy training, dishes, laundry, vacuuming, the guy coming to fix the dryer, the phone ringing, the occasional important real estate call or email I need to answer. Then throw in a lot of crying (from Flip) and whining (from us both) on top of some morning sickness and you have a full day with not a moment to myself. When there is a toddler and a puppy in the house you have to watch both at ALL times. That gets old around 5 pm. Trust me.

They stop being bundles of joy as soon as the doctor sends you home from the hospital. Then it is just work, thankless, sleepless months and years of work and worry--till they move out. Man, I'm tired and Flip is not even three for another month. And I get to start all over again. YIPPEE.

Flip has gotten to the age where no one is more fun than Daddy. He talks about Daddy or asks when he is coming home ALL day long. Its very sweet and Dexter always gets the best welcome home from little Flip with jumping, hugs and kisses (actually the dogs to that too). So why is it then that he immediately heads for the computer?!?!?!

Flip wants his dad, I want to pee or shower alone, the dogs want to play and Dexter has to watch a show or check on his online mafia or his email or his facebook. Great. Wonderful. Just explain to little Flip why you must ignore him and look at that little screen. Please, is there ANYONE who can explain this stupidity to me? Why did we even get a DVR?????????

And so it begins...

After my third round of diarrhea I immediately go to my reference guide what to expect when youre expecting. And there is a little paragraph in there saying that while most women have nausea and vomiting there are a few who can add diarrhea to that delightful little list. Wow, Im a lucky woman, I get to experience it ALL. So when I had to run to the bathroom I never knew which way to approach the toilet—valuable seconds lost.

Now that Dexter and I live together he gets to see how fun the first trimester really can be. But the ever patient Dexter knows he must behave if he wants to keep his head. I bite heads off frequently when I’m about to start my period, so the excess hormones during pregnancy have the same effect for 40 long weeks. To be honest, I don’t remember being this irritable when I was pregnant with Flip -- maybe a little weepy, but not pissy. Poor Dexter.

As each day passed I became more exhausted and more nauseous. Dexter had to start feeding Flip breakfast and occasionally I told him to take him to his little school. I used to call my mom and tell her how proud of him I was. But now I realize that’s the minimum for what he should be doing since I’m going through a personal hell to bring his child into the world. He got me into this mess. Those were the days of few showers and little desire to even brush my teeth. Yuck, the thought of toothpaste still makes me gag. I had to change brands.

One day Dexter had the audacity to ask if the dishes in the dishwasher were clean. “Did you run it,” I ask sarcastically (my specialty). He actually thought while he was at work I left my bed for other things besides picking Ethan up or toilet time. If he wants a clean house he better start sweeping. It took him a few times to learn not to ask me.

This dragged on and I desperately hoped for my 12th week since that’s when the morning sickness started to subside during my first pregnancy. But even before I got to my 12th week the headaches started. What is this?!?! I didn’t have headaches with Flip. I thought all of your pregnancies would be similar—LIES.

The sympathy was running a little thin at my house. Dexter seemed to be spending less time with me. He even went to a bar one evening WITHOUT asking for permission first. Nothing makes me moodier than having to suffer in silence. I’m miserable and its all Dexter’s fault. He needs to listen to me moan and bitch while he massages my aching back. Needless to say that just didn’t happen. Well once, but it was a surprisingly short massage.

Now that I have another child on the way its time to really start potty training Flip. Dexter should help out. And he does, but not as much as I want him to. Because I reached my forth month and the nausea hasn’t subsided. That’s not right. And those headaches are leaving me more miserable than the nausea ever did. And Dexter doesn’t get it. He wants me to get out of bed! “Get out, shut the door, be quiet,” I said. There were a few weeks of giving instructions through my closed door. “Bathe Flip, make sure you brush his teeth, start the load of white laundry…”

Well, I'm crying a river over here because Dexter has to do more Daddy duties and clean the house.

Sick

There are many different ways pregnancy can be fun, but if you're sick you forget all about those potential good times. I'm not talking about morning sickness, I'm bitching today about the common cold. I have my third head cold since October. Flip, the bringer of all germs, runs around unaffected while I wallow in snot and self pity.

Doctors only allow us preggo gals to take certain types of meds to alleviate the symptoms of the common cold. The meds that are allowed just so happen to SUCK! If it was the first time then maybe I wouldn't be such a grouch, but its not, so I am.

I hope no one tells me how wonderful pregnancy is this week; I really feel like I might yell at them or hit them. So parents, please keep your sick kids at home so they don't get other kids sick--its your job. And unless you are offering me a box of kleenex or QUIET support, just leave me and my snot alone.

Round 2

As I said, Dexter and I were trying for our second child for 5 months. It happened so easily the first time that I was certain the week after we got off birth control I was pregnant. I was tired and had a headache. Oh no, I just had an iron deficiency, or so the nurse said after taking my blood. Crap! I already told a few people I thought I might be expecting. I hate looking like an idiot. During those months of trying, Dexter was certain there was something wrong with me—of course there is nothing wrong with his men, it must be my plumbing. So I visit the obgyn and she declares I’m fit as a fiddle and ready for another. I make sure to tell Dexter that he can visit his doctor next, for there will be no more investigating on my end. 5 months later Dexter and I go to his friends house and I’m just not feeling right. I actually have to leave early because of stomach problems.
As I drove home as quickly as I could to my toilet I started to count the days since my last period—OH! Dexter doesn’t want me to waste another test (I was using one every month since we started trying) and just wait a week. Yeah right, as soon as he left the next day I marched myself over to that toilet and got the stick out. It was there, the plus sign. I called Dexter and to tell him and I could hear the grin on his face as he was talking.
Dexter was a man! He did it! He impregnated his wife. Such a feat for the guys—you know that’s what they are all thinking--that they are true men because they aren’t shooting blanks. I was pretty excited too, but really because I had realized that I would have my next child in the middle of the summer, not the end of the summer. Now that’s something to smile about. Atlanta isn’t called Hotlanta for nothing. Who am I kidding; I’m comfortable walking around in a thin short sleeved shirt in February. I’m going to be miserable...ah, well whats new?

Amnesia

Amnesia is how GOD made it possible for a woman to get pregnant again. There is no way a woman in her right mind would willingly put herself through that if she remembered the entire encounter. I must admit, in October of 2008 I was suffering from it. Actually by the time we got pregnant with our second child we had been trying for 5 months. But the amnesia has mysteriously vanished and I’m left with the memory of my first and comparably easier pregnancy.

So I'm thinking that amnesia opened the door for stupidity too. A week before we find out I'm pregnant we get a new puppy (and we didn't take it back). I know one day I will come to love that dog...just NOT today. And lets not forget about little Flip, my almost three yr old. He isn't potty trained. These may seem like little things, but to an irritable pregnant woman, this is torture.

History

I was 23 when I peed on the little stick. I remember that night so well. I was working at my retail job, feeling just a bit off. So I called my fiance, Dexter, (now hubby) and said it would be a good idea to pick up a pregnancy test on his way over to my place. Now I know that he was cheering for joy on the inside while trying to maintain a calm demeanor. So I got home and went straight for the bathroom. As soon as my pee hit the little stick the color changed to show the blue plus sign. Whoa, wait…that cant be right. So I reread the directions again and again trying to see that they said the plus sign could mean “go on honey and get you a margarita—you’re in the clear.” I was to distraught to locate that page of the directions. The pregnancy test was a two pack, so I went to bed next to my grinning fiance and told myself that the test would show a blue minus sign in the morning or that missing page about getting the margarita would be found.

As it turns out, no pregnancy test kit comes with directions for a good margarita; which is exactly what I needed at the time. I was pregnant—very pregnant. I even had the obgyn retest me on my first appointment. They came to me with a knowing smile and confirmed for the third time I was indeed with child. To top that fun experience off, I decided to tell my very strict, overprotective parents that I was pregnant and not married. Joy!

I was in Las Vegas for my shotgun wedding when the morning sickness started. There is no better way to spend your honeymoon than puking—oh so sexy. But that was just the beginning. I went from working 40+ hours at my retail job to 20-25 for the next few months. If I made it to work I usually laid out in the back, close to the toilet. I took 2 ½ hour lunch breaks so I could nap and grew what I thought were the biggest boobs of my life. My sweet husband was working on the other side of Atlanta at the time and so I kept my apartment while he stayed at his parents’ house (another story entirely). So he never really saw how bad I got till one weekend when I came to his parents place and spent the entire time in bed, lifeless and pitiful. Y’all remember those days don’t ya?

By my 4^th month I was free of nausea and started eating like champ; which I continued until the last week or so of my pregnancy. Besides the ridiculous amount of weight gained and the 5 or 6 really bad weeks of morning sickness I had a pretty easy time the first go around. I was so doped up on my own hormones that I attempted a natural birth—HA! I finally got the epidural after 14 hrs of excruciating pain. If you had a natural birth then give yourself a little pat on the back, just think twice about bragging about it—nobody likes a showoff.

Flip joined us on April 17, 2006. He was a precious little baby who rarely cried. Dexter and I were thrilled. I survived and Dexter had the first player of his future soccer team. Flip is now a rambunctious little boy who is enthusiastically making up for those first few quiet months.