This weekend I tried to kick my own ass. Cause, ya know, being 6 months pregnant isn't sore enough.

Saturday I was attempting to help Matt go through old boxes & decide what to keep/give away/trash. He tends to bond with his past objects, so he needs the help with minimizing. With this kid coming like a freight train, we need as few storage items as possible!

So I helped him by coldly tossing a lot of old treasures in the giveaway box. He fought it, as I would if I were him, but the rationale won out. However, he let me know I was ruthless. Then I went through my boxes.

There was my first generation xbox. Ahhh the fun times we had together. But, we don't need it. So I began lifting it out of the box, full intention to sell/give it away, and it slips from my fingers and onto my foot.

Xboxes are surprisingly painful. I need to remember that, should someone break in.

Then Sunday came. All normal until I ran around the coffee table, stepped on the dog bed (which is on hardwood) and bit it. I guess I hit the ground harder than I thought because Matt was quite concerned.

After an initial assessment of myself (I caught myself & fell on my side, breaking my fall with my hands/face/the rug), I knew I hadn't injured the baby at all. Once I expressed this rationally to Matt, the hormones took over & I bawled over my clumsiness for at least 15 minutes. Matt called my mom (a nurse) to confirm my rationalization, but I wouldn't talk to get because I felt I was "too hormonal" (yes, I said that).

We calmed down and grabbed the baby listener to check on Uno. He usually is inactive at the time I fell, so we just wanted to hear his heartbeat. Apparently pressing the listener against him pissed him off, because he kicked/punched/moved every way possible to let us know he disliked all the ruckus. I was never more proud. :)

Today, I'm a little sore, but fine. My cheekbone looks like I had a bad implant done. It's amusing. I had lunch with a girlfriend today who earned herself some UDIs (unidentified drunken injuries) this past weekend & we looked like female boxers commiserating. We got a kick out of it, even if the mommies in panera were giving us concerned looks as if they needed to contact a battered women's shelter. That's all that matters.

I now leave you with this morning's photographic evidence that I went toe to toe with Hilary Swank (the name of our living room rug).


Not the best lighting, but the swelling is obvious. Can't wait for the bruising to set in!

I now will finally publicly confess: I'm a klutz. At least my kid is one tough, expressive nugget.

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For real this time. I'm really back.
See? I'm writing things on my blog again.

I'm 23 weeks pregnant as of now. It's starting to really set in that in 13-17 weeks, a medical professional will extract this thing from my uterus & let us bring it home to raise. Um...that's scary.

Up till now, I haven't really shown. Not anymore, because baby Uno has made himself nice and prominent. My feet and I are enjoying our last few weeks of seeing each other until this whole thing passes. We also finished the baby registry, which is a HUGE relief!

The biggest debate we're currently having are names. You'd think this whole naming thing would be easy, but it's kind of stressful. I mean, this kid is stuck with that name its WHOLE life (unless it goes to the courts to change it, but still). This is the first thing we could fuck our kid up with, no pressure. It's difficult to name someone you haven't met, someone you'll spend the rest of your life fretting over, someone who currently enjoys Mortal-Kombat-Style punching your cervix...
Anywho, Our Top 6 Name Contenders are:
-Asher
-Dylan
-Glendon
-Harrison
-Judah
-Luke

Thoughts? Tomorrow we have another OB appointment. This will be the one where my doctor tells me I'll be getting my glucose test done real soon (oh yey). That's a whole other adventure.

It's amazing how my life in the span of only a few months has changed so much. Instead of reading lots of tech blogs, I'm now adding in lots of mommy blogs and obsessively reading books on birthing/breastfeeding/child rearing. I am no longer grossed out by bodily functions and can speak freely of them (conversations with girlfriends about the FUN times of finding colostrum on your nipples...). Now every meal I eat, I think of what nutrition baby has not gotten today. Every shopping trip I think "do I really need that item? how could that benefit babito instead?". My make-up routine is much simpler. I am now a light sleeper (something I never EVER thought would happen). Life is changing, and Uno isn't even here yet.

I even notice my husband changing.

I'm becoming a mommy.

...This is scary.


















But TOTALLY worth it.

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So Matt and I started cleaning out our spare room this weekend, as a preparation for it to become our new nursery.

...oh yeah...I'm pregnant. Forgot to mention that on this blog...so...now you know.
Also? I'll be 14 weeks this Wednesday.
Pregnancy sucks in the best way possible - the nausea, sore back, incredible dementia-level forgetfulness, cravings, boobs that hurt like they just finished a boxing match, learning about baby needs/gear/etc-its for the best, because this little person will be joining us in a few months and we'll be taking on this incredible journey together as a family.

Back to the nursery. So we're moving all of these boxes out and going through them, sorting if it's keep/toss/giveaway worthy. As we're doing that, Matt finds a huge stack of papers from his college days-including tests. Turns out, my husband took a course on plays and got a little snarky on his Finals extra credit questions...why? Because he was clueless (yes, I realize how ironic this is, that he'd end up marrying me-a theater freak). The answers were so clever, they must be shared.

My husband's brilliant comedic skills began early on:
I know this is hard to read, so here's the translation-
1. Where did George Cram Cook die?
- In Bancroft Hall, of excessive finals. (Editor's Note: Bancroft Hall was one of the halls of his college)

2. What could not be bought, "not even for ready money"?
- Virginity

3. What caused the Globe Theater to burn down?
- The Puritan reformers, under Cromwell, burnt it down as a house of fornication.

Teacher's Comment (the green writing at the bottom of the photo):
"You just wanted an excuse to write 'virginity' and 'fornication' on a final, didn't you?"

-----
Obviously, all of these are wrong, but they were extra credit questions (even if they were so easy to answer...I mean, come on-Cromwell was dead well before the Globe burnt down!). But I applaud my husband for having the cojones to write something other than "I don't know"!

I hope our child inherits this awesomeness from their daddy. :)

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I was about to go to bed. Then I read this excerpt from Kitty Kelly's new Oprah biography, quoted from an interview with Oprah's aunt/cousin/sellout-family-member, Katharine Carr:

"Now, you have to understand that I love Oprah, and I love all the good work she does for others, but I do not understand the lies that she tells. She's been doing it for years now.

Where Oprah got that nonsense about growing up in filth and roaches, I have no idea. (Oprah's grandmother) kept a spotless house…It was a wooden, six-room house with a large living room that had a fireplace and rocking chair.

Oh, I've talked to her about this over the years. I've confronted her and asked 'Why do you tell such lies?' Oprah told me, 'That's what people want to hear. The truth is boring, Aunt Katharine. People don't want to be bored. They want stories with drama.

That story [of sexual abuse] helped launch Oprah and make her what she is today…I don't hold with telling lies, but in this case I forgive Oprah because she has done so much for other people. Maybe this was the only way for a poor child to succeed and become rich. Now she does her good works to make her amends.

Oprah does not love her mother at all…She gives her a great deal financially but she does not give her the respect and affection a daughter should, and that bothers me. Vernita did the best she could with Oprah, who was a willful, runaway child."

I do not care who you are, you do NOT speak ill against Oprah! She taught me how to pluck my eyebrows properly (a valuable lesson as an awkward teen who messed it up...a lot...because we didn't have beauty blogs on the internets to teach us back then!). Even if she did lie, keep your trap SHUT. This woman makes a real difference; she can pick the president, imagine what she can do to people who piss her off...

-- Post From My iPhone

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(Like how I self edited there? Yeah, you totally get that I meant shit, but shite is more dignified...or something...screw it, I just realized I hadn't blogged in ALMOST a year. A FRIGGIN YEAR)

New things:
- Matt's dog still wants me dead (I'm sure of it)
- Today I was introduced to my new favorite word: Redicunt (definition: its so ridiculous, its cunty too...)
- My husband trolls craigslist for wood...(firewood, you gutter minded a-holes)
- I actually suggested that Matt create a personal ad on craigslist - man seeking wood, must be flammable and can fit in my Escape
- Also, tonight I learned the difference between a mosquito and a mosquito hawk through Matt's interpretive dance...I cant make this shit up
- I got entirely too upset with Turbo Tax today...like, Gary Busey level upset. I threatened to pull its endocrine system out.

There's more, but that should suffice for one posting, you information-seeking hounds!

I shall leave you with two things: a) a conversation between Matt and I tonight; and b) THE BEST AUDITION FOR A PORN EVER

Conversation:
Me: Hey, wanna have sex on the couch?
(Matt walks away all happy with a hop in his step, turns around and sprints back to me)
Matt: Um...when you say 'sex on the couch', do you mean NOW or later? Because I need to
know when to take off my shoes...
(I then laugh so hard its impossible to even consider it now)

Porn Singing Auditions:

I'm not sure if I should be impressed or deeply saddened by how many people don't know the words. Oh, and you, Mr. Creepy-wanna-be-Chris-Farley, I'm definitely into you. I seriously am pre-ordering this from Amazon...or Pornazon, whoever gets it first.

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There really are no words. I feel as though the wind was knocked out of me. I never understood until today why fans became so devastated when an icon from their youth dies, how they could be so effective.

So many of my favorite memories played out to your music, I would watch MTV just to tape your videos so I could watch them on repeat and attempt to learn the dance moves. Through your highs and your lows that played out during my life, I always admired you and how strong you were.

Thank you for bringing joy into many many lives. Thank you for for the music.

You will be remembered, and missed.

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This was just too absurd to not post...
Hope everyone is having a great week! I'm in Baltimore at the moment, heading back south this weekend. My life is oh so exciting.

Also...um...they really felt the need to use the 'tree' metaphor multiple times? Oy. I remember having sex once with a guy who was perfectly shaved down there, it was like humping a porcupine. And while the tree might look taller, it certainly makes your mate feel like she's Mary Kay Laternou. So, if you girl is into that sort of thing...um...call Chris Matthews and the whole 'Predator' crew, cause that's just effed up.

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