So, Jen was like, "POST ALREADY!" So I was like, "Um, Ok."

Reason’s to love my husband:

1. While putting on my first pair of maternity jeans, he tells me with sheer joy and delight, “They have room for your butt to get BIGGER!”
2. When I can’t sleep, and so wake him up to see if he’ll make out with me, he in no way hesitates, even when he has to wake up in two hours.
3. No matter how much work he puts into “helping” me make dinner; he still does the dishes without being asked.
4. When I tease him for any number of silly man-things, (over indulging on chicken wings, grabbing my ass every time I walk by him, watching 6 hours straight of sports highlights etc) he responds with a grin, saying, “I’m not sorry.”
5. Calls me as soon as he hears any Raiders’ related news on the radio, even though he could not care less about my football team.

I think I’ve gushed enough about Xtian for the day, let’s move on.

I love Twix bars. But my question is this: If the whole candy, both fingers, is called “Twix”, what does one call an individual finger of the Twix? Is it a Twick? Or is it a singular Twix? I’m confused. And it bothers me. (Yes Faith, I’m currently eating Twix. Jealous? Muwahahahahaha)

Dude, I do not like talking to people in the bathroom. So, if I’m entering a stall while you’re washing your hands, please don’t talk to me. I keep having random coworkers start a conversation while we’re both peeing. This is awkward. But if I don’t respond, it’s weird too. So, I just make every effort to only use the ladies’ while it’s completely unoccupied. This takes some precise timing, but I think it’s worth it.

I just had my first pasta dish since I got knocked up, and was able to eat it with relish. Hurray for Trimester the Second! Also, Hurray for Three-Cheese Lasagna with Super Meat Sauce! It’s so nice to cook a meal, and then be able to eat it. I know, doesn’t sound like much, but for the last few months, I’ll spend an hour making an elaborate dinner, only to be completely unable to eat it.
What could I eat: Ramen, Chicken McNuggets (only from McDonald’s none of those spicy chicken fingers from Burger King), Mashed Potatoes, French fries. Bland, salty and fatty.
Yes, a very balanced diet, wouldn’t you say?

For the first time in my entire life, my doctor showed concern because I hadn’t gained weight. I’m kind of loving this pregnancy thing. I’ve only put on about 3-4 pounds since I got pregnant, and the doctor is a little concerned. Methinks that now I’m able to eat with pleasure again, the lack of weight gain won’t be brought up again. (But hey, maybe my body is just an asshole and only puts on weight when I’m actively trying to lose it. Now that I’m supposed to put on weight, I’m eating like a pig and only working out to make impending labor easier and am only gaining about .2 pounds a week. I love this game!)

OH! And we got to hear Mocha Cub’s heartbeat yesterday. The coolest thing in the world. Sure, we got to see MC on the ultrasound, but we turned out to only be 6 weeks along, so it was a blob with a little flutter for a pulse. This was way neat, and Xtian’s face was so excited I almost died. It really reminded me why I wanted to have children with this man. Who doesn’t want to procreate with a person who is just dying to be a good daddy?
And now I’m going to cry, because I’m still an emotional, sleep-deprived wreck of hormones.
Happy Thursday y’all!

Let the Kvetching Begin!

So, this pissed me off and I felt the need to discuss.

I was out sick for a couple days last week, and had a planned vacation day Monday, so today is my first day back in the office. My work husband, Eric, dropped in to ask how I was feeling. He then mentioned that he had to go, since he’s not supposed to be in here.

Yes, that’s right. HR has “unofficially” told him that he’s spending too much time in my office chatting. About three times a week, he’ll drop in for a five-minute chat. Clearly, this is a problem. I’m so annoyed about this, especially since our HR department consists of one person who always plays “SuperNiceConcernedPerson” role whenever I see her. She’s not. She’s just like many other HR folks, whether they intend to be or not. She’s not an advocate for employees, she’s there to protect the company at all costs, including human costs.

If Eric’s occasional chats with me are a problem, I expect to be spoken with as well. At least given a chance to defend myself without all this backdoor politicking. I hate that shit, and I always will.

Another thing I must share: My MIL is at it again, only this time, she’s fighting my mother.

After last fall’s…unpleasantness, I’ve just pretended that my mother in law didn’t exist. No communication, and so far it’s been fine. While visiting my mother this weekend, she told me that my MIL has now targeted my mom.

My mom sent MIL a Xmas card, just like she sent everyone else. MIL returned it, unopened and sent my mom an email stating that my mother was NOT to contact MIL or her family. My mom replied and wrote: I will respect your wishes, but if you change your mind, I’m here.

(That bitch! I know! (note: sarcasm)

My MIL bounced the email back and wrote: I told you NOT to contact me!

Last week, she even sent back the invitation to my wedding shower (for those playing the home version, the wedding shower occurred a year ago. Good timing!)

This, if nothing else, just smacks of crazy, classlessness. And yes, I’m here venting it all on the internet, but it’s one thing to get all fucked up Crazy Lady on me. But to treat my mother like that? This bitch has to go. And then she wonders why her husband left her, her sons want little to do with her, she does not have friends, and can not find/keep gainful employment. But, clearly, EVERYONE ELSE is the problem. She’s the only one doing right.

What a fucking bitch.

~~

Other than all that shit, things are fine. Saw my brother for his 21^st birthday, bought him a drink, then begged off early since my head was going to fall off from the hurting. I spent a delightful weekend snuggled up with my family, and got home with enough time to relax and unwind a bit. Just a wonderful weekend.

I hope all is well for y’all!

Solidifying my “classiness”

• Rather than saying “I’m taking a pregnancy test,” I say “I’m going to go piss on a stick.”


• Openly picking poppy seeds (seriously, I hate poppyseed-anything, so why did I select a poppy seed bagel this morning? Oh yeah, because I’m clearly bagel-handicapped) out of my teeth while talking to coworkers.


• Last night Xtian asked if I felt like eating what was planned for dinner, or grabbing something quick.
  C: Well, what would you want to pick up for food?
  X: Hmm, Taco Bell?
  C: Oh, you like E. Coli?
  X: E coli is the SHIT!
  C: Literally.

I’m amazing.

So, as of 4:25 am, the second pink line failed to show, so I’m calling it all clear to drink myself mute tonight. Seriously, drinking with the extended family is one of my greatest luxuries. And my step-grandmother owes me a shot of tequila. I’m pretty sure that’s the greatest sentence ever written.


Also, happy 2nd Birthday, to this here exercise in self-indulgence.