How to Explain My Stupidity - Video

Please pardon the horrible quality. Really this person just filmed their TV screen and if I wasn't lazy I would search for a legit clip. But I am lazy and here we are with some poor schmuck's video clip - you still get the gist. 

This is me. Every. Single. Day. Flying abilities and suit of armor not included. 

Yesterday, I asked my husband to turn off the windows. 

Earlier I asked my HR person to give me the total number of labors. 

The day before after purchasing a painting stick thingamajig for the Hubs I asked if he liked that he can change the colors. I meant the lengths of said painting thingamabob. 

Cranberry. 

Things You Shouldn't Say to a Pregnant Woman

Everyone has one of these. But this alllll happened today. 

Stressing about my outfit: 
Me (wearing an orange shirt and black boots): "Do I look like a pumpkin?"
Boss: "Um...a variation of one."

On guessing the sex of the baby:

Finance Woman (after expressing how LARGE she was while pregnant with her daughter):
"Well I would say you're having a girl?"
Me: "Why?" 
FW: "Well your hips are MUCH bigger since you've gotten pregnant."


On Halloween: 

Halloween Planner Person: "Let's do a haunted yellow brick road!"
Me: "Oh that sounds cool."
HPP: "You get to be the witch."

Fuck you Tuesday. FUCK YOU. 

Pain in the Butt

Starting Tuesday I've had these random shooting muscle pains in my butt. Since I possess the sassy-sounding swayback, a nifty little upswing around the tailbone, my low back has always been an asshole. But this random shooting pain feels slightly different. 

TO THE INTERNETS! 

And here is where I learned that I basically have back pain because I exist. 

"Even more pregnant women have posterior pelvic pain, which is felt lower on your body than lumbar pain. You may feel it deep inside the buttocks, on one or both sides or the back of your thighs. It may be triggered by activities such as walking, climbing stairs, getting in and out of a tub or a low chair, rolling over in bed, or twisting and lifting.Positions in which you're bent at the waist – such as sitting in a chair and leaning forward while working at a desk – may make posterior pelvic pain worse." 

- thebabycenter.com

Looks like it's triggered by: 

Walking

Sitting

Getting in and out of your car 

Getting in and out of bed

Working 

Bathing 

I exist and therefore I have deep butt pain. Thank God for you medical brainiacs! 

And the treatment is just as clear and easy to follow: 

Stand more! 

Sit more! 

Walk more! 

Use Hot! 

Use Cold! 

#firstworldpreggoproblems 

Absentia

All apologies for my absence. I began a post that surely would have been hilarious; only when I went o finish it a few weeks later I discovered that I forgot the purpose of said post. It was about the nursery and how the room is so hot. See? Gut-busting funny. 

Here's the rundown on the goings-on in the past few weeks. 

• I went to Mexico. No not hey-you-lost-your-head-Mexico but Holy-crap-I-may-live-here-forever-Mexico. Then I decided maybe major surgery in Mexico isn't the best idea regardless of the dual citizenship benefit. I got a tan, had a couple Dos Equis and never drank tap water. Thus? Never pooped my pants. Awesome. 

• If one more person tells me JUST WAIT when I refer to: not sleeping, feeling large, having a waddle or insert pregnancy malady here, i am going to punch them in the face. Consider yourselves warned. I AM LIVING IN THE MOMENT PEOPLE. 

• I wish I could have someone hold the raptor for a minute. Literally just say "hey can you hold this? I am going for a quick run and I will be right back - 30 min tops." And I would come back because all this shit is a miracle and amazing but I miss running. I also miss walking up stairs without getting winded. 

• The raptor moves like a Capoeira dancer/fighter - all rolls and kicks and random side-to-side movements. Where's the FLUTTER I was promised?! No flutter, just vag punches. 

• Today the doctor told me I wear pregnancy well. I almost kissed his feet and while I suspect he says that to all the patients he performs C-sections on, I will take it as he owes me no compliment of the sort and assured me he doesn't say it to people who don't wear it well. I am believing him.

• If my mother asks me one more question about the shower, I am having her relocate it to McDonalds. GET THE FUCKING MINI-QUICHES. Order nuggets from Chik-fil-A. Get a platter from Publix. I really don't give a shit. Last night she called me to say that she may have gotten the wrong patter of animals for the theme. The theme I didn't choose so much as decide to register for and blurted Giraffe! when asked. Now it's a jungle theme and she got Lion King AND OMG IT DOESN'T MATCH. Guys, I want to see some people, be belly-accosted by Cubans, eat cake and open presents. That's all. It doesn't need a theme. Throw up some streamers in yellow and white and call that shit a day. *sigh* I AM grateful; Stop judging me. 

Let's Discuss

I know. I should post more but other than feeling like a beached whale with digestive problems I really don't have a whole lot going on preggo-wise. Basically, I will now complain. What? I haven't been complaining ENOUGH for your liking?!? Well this is you're LUCKY FUCKIN' DAY. As always these complaints are couched in the fact that they're totally first world problems and not real complaints; I couldn't be happier to be pregnant. 

Dear Paige Denim: I understand that you're considered the best of the best. I love that I found some of your jeans on Zulily at a not-ridiculous price and they are indeed quite comfy. However, may we discuss for a moment the tag at the belly seam? Hey, I get it - you want to be different and put that tag somewhere else. Like maybe I want to show off the size of my jeans and not have to show my butt crack? Or maybe one has SO MANY jeans that they have to check who exactly made these overpriced legs of denim, let's make it easy for to whip out that tag and show it off. And when you're a non-pregnant size 26 (not never ever will be me) that's cute. Oh excuse my teeny waist and rock hard abs, while I look to see who made my jeans. Oh look! It's Paige! See how adorable this insignificant pocket is next to my tag? That's just in case I want to melt my lipstick by smooshing it against my non-existent love handle. 

*Wow. That was a hell of a tangent - apologies y'all* 

My point here is - a tag on a belly seam in MATERNITY jeans is fucking dumb. We're already itchy - we're like ALL GET OUT itchy. Seams in the maternity jeans already toe the line of comfort - too high, too low - so please 'splain to me the idea of adding them to maternity jeans. 

Don't worry; I'll wait. 

Did anyone else splurge on maternity jeans and find them lacking? I mean I am all for my sassy Joe's Jeans non-preggo but dropping $200 on jeans I will just wear for a few months seems silly. Now if someone wants to purchase some for me then please by all means shop away. Maybe it's being of "Advanced Maternal Age" that makes me all cranky about it but as much as I would love to drop a cool $100 on some cardigan The Goop says is all the pregnancy rage I think getting a pedicure and lunch with a friend is a much better use of money. 

Secondly can we just discuss this? 

Oh Zulily. Zulily, Zulily, Zulily. Where do I begin? First I know many a breastfeeding mom and never have they said to me, "You know what I love to do? Put on my makeup, a jazzy necklace, sparkly earrings and a ball gown; find the closest Laundr-O-Mat and whip out my boob to feed my baby." Because CLEARLY that's what this photo is implying. I implore nay BEG those of you who look at this and think "well that's my TUESDAY!" to please call me. I think we need to discuss what the hell you are doing with your day and how I can become part of that club. 



This photo linked to a sale on maternity lingerie which is personally not my thing but I can absolutely see how women out there feel sexier thanks to the big boobs and hormonal fluctuations. I see no issue with maternity lingerie per se however I do think this picture sets women up for a completely unrealistic sense of post-natal life. And now after Googling it I see that  unrealistic expectation via media is clearly par for the course (DUH). Would you all remind me to take a picture of myself in February so we can be a bit more realistic than this utter nonsense? Because you know I will forget. And you know I am not putting on a fucking ball gown especially if they're adding some tags to the middle. 

Things Better Left Unsaid

This week in YOUR BABY IS GOING TO DIE NEWS. No fewer than three people have told me horror stories about someone they know (friend-of-a-friend, neighbor, coworker) losing their unborn child at 5 months, 7 months, 39 weeks. With the really awesome clarification of "No one knows why!" "They don't know what happened." 

Wow. Thanks. 

The best part was every single time said storyteller would say "I shouldn't be telling you this" and then continued to horrify me with stories. 

Friends, countrymen, asshats - please don't tell horror stories to first-time pregos. We are all too aware that shit happens, complications arise and that life can really be a fucking dick sometimes. But hearing it and instinctively going to the "Please please please don't let that happen to me" place in your mind IS NOT GOOD FOR THE BABY. Or the Mom. Or the Husband/Partner that has to talk to his significant other off the ledge of I AM GOING TO KILL OUR BABY.

We're bombarded with don't eat bacon! don't drink wine! don't eat deli meat! don't sleep on your back! And a whole host of other don'ts that are often presented as YOU WILL HAVE A BROKEN BABY IF YOU DO THIS. Look, none of us wants a broken baby or a sick baby or a baby with hooves - unless the father is a centaur. And trust me when I tell you that simple things like rolling over on your stomach in the middle of the night, an errant piece of bleu cheese, the meat sweats all trigger the ohmygod-will-my-baby-grow-up-to-be-miley-cyrus-now reaction. And I think we can all agree - no one wants to feel that way. So thank you for keeping your dead baby stories to yourself.

And pass the bacon... that shit is delicious. 

No Shame

One of the greatest things about being pregnant is not really giving a flying fuck about anything anymore. PB&J? Bring me all the carbs! Two appetizers? Well DON'T MIND IF I DO! Oh sorry, I farted. YES IT WAS ME. But the best part about being a first-time expecto is hearing "oh yeah, girl that's totally normal" from every former-pregnant-now-mom-official woman you know. 

"Girl I got restless leg syndrome."
"My poop changed color and consistency!" 
"I have never made more snot in my life than I do now." 
"I can't look at chicken." 
"The produce section of the grocery store freaks me out."  

I love the camaraderie that comes with shared experience - especially among us girls. Pregnancy seems to be the great equalizer - (except for those freaks who never have anything bad happen to them; they're not real and should be banned from society brandished as freaks.) boob pain, sex dreams, swollen feet, varicose veins, overflowing sinuses, constipation, all-day puking, nausea, extreme fatigue - most of us get some thing or many things. Just today at a local event, I spoke with a friend who's roughly 8 weeks pregnant and we lamented about random sneezing. Her's? A daily double sneeze that shakes walls. Mine? A fearsome triple that wakes the dead. Neither of us have colds or allergies - we just sneeze. That shit's weird. Also weird? The nosebleeds. Like the huge nosebleed I got at my birthday dinner. There I am sitting in a gorgeous restaurant with all my non-pregnant skinny well-groomed friends and after those three sneezes I damn near had a CSI moment at the table. Thankfully, I stocked up on tissues and avoided an all out CLEAN UP AT TABLE 4 moment. 

And here during all this camaraderie is when I begin to notice the haters, the dissenters - the women who point and judge at every single decision made. For instance, we have good friends that scoff at us for not finding out the sex and say shit like: "Hope you're prepared for all the ugly yellow and green shit you're going to get." 

Wow. Thanks guys! First off, there are more than 4 colors in the world. Secondly, who the hell says girls can't wear blue? I love blue. Jewel tone blue, turquoise, Carolina blue (that's a thing here), light blue etc.  I love most shades of pink - dark fuschia, a light coral and deep mauve. Yes those are all pinks. SHUT UP IT'S MY BLOG.  But mostly there's a palette of colors that is just now becoming popular for a gender neutral room - grays, oranges, turquoise(s), reds, beiges, etc. And while I am no Martha Stewart I certainly hope that I can come up with something less cliche than pink and blue. Fuck it, maybe I'll emo the whole thing with white, black and giant splashes of red - reminiscent of my nosebleeds. 

Granted, colors make up a small part of the judgement. Names, diet, exercise (choice of, amount of), and husband participation have become fodder for whispers and dinner table conversation. And while it's hard for me to cry - CAN'T WE JUST ALL GET ALONG? I feel the need to. This is the weirdest most amazing thing our bodies do and yeah sometimes it sucks (HI THREE AM... AGAIN) but for the most part? It's kinda fucking amazing. And there's no way I can tell someone else how to make the weird and the painful tolerable or manageable. If Spaghetti-Os is the only thing that you can eat without throwing up then get to Costco. If a daily 45 min on an elliptical machine keeps you from throwing a gallon of milk at your husband, then by all means pedal away. Should you eat more than just Spaghetti Os? Yep. Should you maybe throw a yoga class in with that elliptical routine? Absolutely as my hips hurt just thinking about it. But I eat Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs every morning because they're fucking delicious and have fewer nutritional elements than my sofa cushions. I am pretty sure I didn't eat a single non-fried thing last Friday. Hmmm maybe the salad the fried Asian shrimp was served on? That counts right?? 

Look, I can't say I don't judge or make comments. It hurts when I hear people complain about being pregnant when I know so many who are draining bank accounts and sanity in order to get the chance. Or when I read that some woman ran a half-marathon at 17 weeks pregnant - in 2:32 no less! (Bitch. Amazing Bitch but Bitch nonetheless) But let's take a second and revel in the fact that men can't do this and doctors can guess how it's done but they still don't have 1/3 of the answers; this shit is crazyamazinginsanelunacy - and the kid isn't even here yet. 

Soapbox closed.