Ahoy, Matey! Pirates Aren't Just For Halloween!

The kind people at Growing Tree Toys , a retailer of educational toys, recently sent me a toy to review. I had seen Manhattan Toy's Dress Up Pirate before and considered buying one for my nephew when he was a little younger, so I was thrilled to get one for TJ to try out.

I could barely get the box open before TJ yanked the pirate out and, hugging it tightly, said, "I love this pirate!" Now, TJ is not the type of child to go for just any toy simply because it is new, (yes, she is rather discriminating) so the fact that she was interested in the Dress Up Pirate immediately told me that this toy should have some definite curb appeal to the kids. And I don't blame her, it is a cute toy... like I said, it had caught my eye as a prospective gift for my favorite nephew quite some time ago.

TJ has several toys made by Manhattan Toy, and all of them have been big hits with her. So, I had high expectations for the Dress Up Pirate. And I am happy to report it didn't disappoint. Of course, TJ at first just played with the pirate as if it were just another stuffed toy; but once I showed her how to work the zipper, velcro, button, snap, etc., she jumped right in. One of the pirate's shoes has a regular lace like a tennis shoe, and while TJ is shockingly brilliant, I think it will be a while before she masters that part of dressing.

I am thinking this toy has piqued TJ's interest in dressing herself as she has suddenly started insisting on zipping her pjs and jackets "all by self", and I frequently get a "lemme do it" when velcro-ing her shoes or putting her shirt on. So not only is this toy creatively constructed and educational, but I have to give it at least partial credit in scooting TJ along on the road to dressing independently.

If you are looking for other educational toys, I would suggest visiting the Growing Tree Toys website. They have a thoughtful selection of toys for children of all ages and I like the fact that you can search for items by age range... this is very helpful when trying to select a nice gift for an older niece or nephew. I spent a lot of time looking at the selection of toys on this site and I would venture to say that none of their toys would end up in the garage sale / goodwill / get this annoying piece of plastic out of my face ASAP pile. Two thumbs up for The Pirate Dress Up Toy and for Growing Tree Toys website!

It's Your Lucky Day!

Not only am I not going to complain about how nauseous I feel today, but you get to see a picture of TJ!



Several weeks ago, I entered a give away at Mom to Bee and won! It was very exciting, probably only for me though, because I don't get very excited when other people win giveaways. Anyway... I won the cutest little dress for TJ (which I got to choose myself!) from the Daily Tea line at Sugar Babies.



It finally got cool enough here for TJ to wear the dress, and I finally got the pictures off my camera and I have finally decided to post about it. TJ is doing her famous 'Tyra Smize'... that's smiling with your eyes for those of you who don't watch America's Next Top Model (as if!). Yeah, I kindof wanted her in one of those nice standing up type poses where you could actually see how cute this dress is. Alas, TJ had other plans. She only wanted to sit on my lap in our poorly lit entry way. Models can be so temperamental, geesh.

Okay everyone, on three. One, two, three... awwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

Oh Happy Day!

Today we saw a beautiful little heart beating and were told our baby looks perfect. Words can't even describe how happy we are. I guess there is not much else to say... so without further ado, here is itty bitty baby Wisdom number two:

True Confessions Tuesday & A Manslation

I had this fantasy that it would be so nifty to chronicle my pregnancy here on this blog. I have seen other people do it and I always thought to myself, I wish I had started this blog when I was pregnant with TJ. But look at me now, I post once a week if that.


Well, there is a reason. And it's not just my usual laziness.


For the past 2 - 3 weeks, I have pretty much felt like I am going to puke all day, everyday. While I may be prone to exaggeration, believe me, those are simply the facts. If I am awake, I am nauseous. I would even venture to say that I am nauseous when I am asleep because every time I wake up in the middle of the night, I pretty much feel like puking.


But I really don't want to be that annoying pregnant person who whines for months about wanting to be pregnant only to start complaining about 'morning' sickness or other pregnancy inconveniences before the pregnancy test is even dry. Because truthfully, when I would read shit like that on other people's blogs, I would think, "Bitch, please shut the fuck up! I would give anything to be pregnant, including feeling queasy every day for the next nine months, so quit your bitchin!"


This morning sickness pretty much consumes my day and I find it hard to think about much else... a hormonally induced writers rut if you will. So rather than fifteen posts about feeling like I am going to barf, I have just not been posting much at all. So there. That's my confession.

So for the sake of chronicling or posterity or being journalistic or getting it off my chest or whatever the fuck you want to call it, I feel the need to record this part of my pregnancy. Even though it is not the storybook cliche of glowing pregnancy, it is my pregnancy nonetheless. So if you don't want to hear about it, you can skip the next few paragraphs that I aptly colored puke green.


I begin each day waking up to a mild nausea. For a split second, I think, Oh no! It's gone! Yes, I say Oh no! Because while it is uncomfortable, I can't help but feel reassured that something must be going right in there for me to have the mother of all pregnancy symptoms. I try to find something to eat for breakfast that doesn't make me feel even more like puking. Pretty much nothing sounds or smells good, so I go with the least offensive... usually cheerios.

By about 9 am I am so nauseous that I have that metallic taste in my mouth and excessive salivating that a person gets about five seconds before they actually barf, except I don't actually barf but that taste and the drooling are with me for the rest of the day. I probably eat again around 10 just to try to quell the nausea once more.

By lunch time I am ravenously hungry and I probably scarf down my lunch as I am making it, and my lunch usually consists of something I was sure would not make me nauseous but usually does anyway, so it ends up being rather unsatisfying.

I take a nap with TJ after lunch and waking up from this nap is the most nauseous I feel all day. Trying to decide what to make for dinner is like playing russian roulette with the refrigerator door. Not only does the mere act of opening that door make me want to puke... the sights! the smells!... but trying to determine what will be the least puke inducing meal for the night sometimes leaves me in a defeated, weeping mass.


The remainder of the evening, I drift in and out of waves of nausea of varying degree and probably have a bowl of heaven Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream. I will also admit to getting out of bed in the middle of the night to make myself a bean and cheese burrito or a bagel. Hey, whatever gets you through the night....

So there you have it. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I am really not complaining. This is a difficult time, but I know it won't last forever. And when the end result is a healthy baby, it is totally worth it and then some.

Now for the part you are really reading this post for: the Manslation. My husband is totally baffled by 'morning' sickness. No matter how I try to explain it to him, he just can't wrap his brain around how somebody could be feeling like she is about to puke yet desperately wanting to eat a pepperoni, black olive, mushroom, and garlic pizza for dinner. So we were talking about this for the millionth time the other night and he says to me, maybe you should try fasting.

What???

WHAT!!???!?!? Did you just tell a PREGNANT woman that she should try FASTING??!?!!? Are you fucking INSANE??!?!!?

So I gently try to explain to him that not only is fasting probably the worst advice (beyond crack smoking or heroin injecting) you could offer a pregnant person, but it is the one sure fire way to make morning sickness worse.

To which he replies, well, I don't know, I just thought maybe you have something in your system you need to work out.

He is so innocent and sweet, I just have to laugh. Well, yes dear, I do in fact have something in my 'system', it's called a BABY and at this point it is not something I particularly want to 'work out' just yet.

We are not speaking for the next eight months. Just a precaution.

Is It Tacky to Air My Dirty Laundry on My Blog?

Several weeks ago, my mother in law asked me if I could help her with some computer related things (she has her own business) one day a week. I thought it would be nice for TJ to see her grandma on a more regular basis and I do enjoy visiting my mother in law so we decided on Wednesdays.

So TJ and I went to grandma's house two or three weeks in a row and it quickly became apparent that we weren't getting any real work done outside of TJ's nap time. No big deal. Part of the reason for the visits was simply getting in a little grandma time. The last time we were at grandma's, my mother in law asked me if I would like her to come to my house for the next visit. She was offering to help me work on some projects around the house. I agreed to this and instead of scheduling something, we left it at the old, "let's play it by ear."

Well, a week or so went by and neither one of us had made any contact. My reason was that I was feeling exhausted and run down with morning all day sickness (not complaining here people, merely being journalistic). So I sent an email to my mother in law apologizing for not getting in touch sooner and basically explaining how I was feeling, etc. Three days later and she still hasn't responded... which is odd, she usually responds immediately.

Tonight, my husband is sitting at his computer and he asks me how to spell the word, nauseous. Of course I assumed he was talking about me, so I asked him who he was writing. When he said he was writing his mother, I asked what it was about because I was waiting to hear from her and he shares an email she had just sent to him, which said something to the effect of "I can't run a business like this.... if it's not one thing it's another.... this is nonsense.... I don't know what to say about this, it is what it is and that's what it is..."

W.T.F.??!?!!!!??!!

That's when I went ape shit.

For the record, I do not routinely flake out on, break, or flat out not show for appointments I make with my mother in law, nor anyone else for that matter. Are there times when something comes up and I need to reschedule? Yes. Do I let her know promptly? Yes.

So I am kind of thinking that a mother in law's response to her daughter in law telling her that she has been feeling like she is on the verge of vomiting all day every day for the past two weeks (again, not complaining here people, just being journalistic) would be something other than "this is nonsense...." or "if it's not one thing, it's another..." And, "I can't run a business like this..." seriously?!?!! Are you fucking kidding me?!!? If she was relying on me to run her business... the 1 1/2 to 2 hours of help I can provide her ONCE A WEEK while TJ is asleep... her business is fucked to begin with.

However, my husband thinks I am overreacting. He says she didn't say anything that bad and that she is a seventy something year old woman that just goes off like that from time to time. Never mind that she has never, ever once "gone off" in my presence. He says she was just hurt that TJ and I weren't able to come over. Never mind that I told my mother in law that she was more than welcome to visit us ANY DAY this week if she wanted to see TJ.

And what's sad is that I have always felt that my mother in law and I were pretty cool with each other. I've even told people that I feel pretty lucky in the grand scheme of mother in laws. I guess I should have learned my lesson when she showed her true colors last year. Oh well, I guess TJ will just grow up grandparentless like I did. Could be worse.

So there's all my dirty laundry. Hey, at least I didn't post this as my status update on Facebook.

How I Accidentally Read Dooce's Book

When a self-proclaimed 'non-reader' friend of mine asked me for a book recommendation, I did a virtual back flip. As all book lovers know, it is quite the thrill to get to turn someone onto a book or books that you love. I guess it is kind of like how heroin junkies get a kick out of injecting each other. Maybe there is a better analogy. Whatever.

Anyway, after a little discussion of literary likes and dislikes with my friend, I thought it would be a totally dorky great idea if we read the same book. I had three books on hold at the library, so we decided to choose the book that the library actually had two copies of. I knew nothing about these three books other than the fact that Amazon had recommended them based on my previous book searches. Not that I actually buy books... I am way too cheap for that. I just read the reviews at Amazon and then put them on hold at the library. Works for me.

So it wasn't until I got home with the chosen book, It Sucked, Then I Cried: How I Wrote A Book With a Painstakingly Long Title That Included A Colon Just Like All The Other Cool Mommy Bloggers Are Doing (oh wait, maybe that's not exactly the book title), that I realized that it was written by none other than Heather Armstrong, aka Dooce.

To be honest, I think I have visited Dooce's website three times at the most. And yes, let's call it a website and not a blog, because that beast is a Web.Site. While I didn't hate her website, I certainly didn't see what all of the fuss was about. I can't remember anything I read there and none of it gave me any inclination to come back for more. I get the feeling that the success of Heather's website has a lot to do with being at the right place at the right time. So, I will give props where they are due: congrats to you Heather for getting to the trough first.

That being said, I kind of rolled my eyes when I realized that the next book I would be reading was written by the Dooce. In fact, I was totally prepared to hate it.

Well, wouldn't you know, I didn't hate it! It only took me a few days to read it, and I even LTM (that's LOL's little sister, Laughed To Myself - Trademark!) several times while reading.

I have issues with her terrible attitude and negativity towards pregnancy and motherhood... and we all know that I am generally not Miss Sunshine myself so that says a lot. For some reason, I found her disdain for maternity clothes highly irritating. And the book was rather disjointed. I was going to make reference to her transitions, but that would mean that some sort of transitions existed, so alas... For example, she starts out one chapter talking about the importance of windshield wiper fluid and I am expecting some witty tie-in someplace else in the chapter. Nope. And this happens a lot.

But, like I said, I can't hate the book. In reading it, Heather became human to me, and I just can't hate her or her life's story. And damn, this girl went through it! I don't want to spoil it for you, but let's just say I wouldn't wish some of the shit she went through on my worst enemy and I can't imagine what it must have been like, nor would I want to. So again, props to you Heather for taking care of business.

I wouldn't recommend this book to people, it didn't make that list for me. But, it is a fun read that won't necessarily make you want to slam your head into a wall.

Is It Too Soon To Be Thinking About This?

I recently read an article that bashed the fairly recent cultural development known as the Push Present. This article was all blah blah blah about materialism and consumerism and some other boring ass isms.... obviously written by someone who was either male or did not receive a Push Present.

Wait... you don't know what a Push Present is??!?!

Oh my.

Okay, in a nutshell it's a gift that your husband, baby daddy, life partner, or sperm donor gives you around the time that you push his/her/it's baby out. It can be anything from sentimental to extravagant, but I prefer both.

When I had TJ, my husband gave me a Tiffany necklace with TJ's first initial.

Awww, sweet! He said he hoped I would pass it on to her when she got older. Awww, an heirloom, even sweeter! I love this necklace... I love the way it looks, I love the way it feels, I love what it represents, I love that it can look fancy or kind of casual, I love that people ask me what's the t for? and I have an excuse to gush about my daughter, and I love that my husband was thoughtful enough to buy me exactly what I asked him to buy me as my Push Present. (Note to any other pregnant ladies reading this: I suggest you tell your husband what to purchase unless you want a very nice ceramic pot as your Push Present).

So as I was leaving for the grocery store this morning to purchase a package of hot dogs that I just had to have at 9:00 in the morning... and by hot dogs I mean a package of Hebrew National hot dogs, a jar of relish, a jar of sauerkraut, a block of sharp cheddar cheese, a can of Amy's Vegetarian chili (yeah, note the irony), a package of hot dog buns, 5 avocados, 2 bags of chips, 4 sesame see bagels, and a package of bacon... I noticed my beloved Gucci was looking a little worn. There are little worn spots where the fabric is starting to fray where the strap connects to the purse, and well, let's just say that this bag doesn't really have her original umph... I mean, I have been carrying this bag almost every single day for three years! What's a girl to do??!!?

Seeing as how I make about $0.00 working as a SAHMILF, how could I possibly replace this bag? I really don't have the time or energy to get my PhD and hope that my parents send me another congratulatory check. I cancelled my blogher account, so those quarterly checks for $0.72 have stopped rolling in. Hmmm... wait a minute... hopefully I will be getting another Push Present here in the near future.... maybe there is a new Gucci in my future...
I guess now all I need to do is convince my husband that $1500 is a small price to pay for pushing his offspring out of my vadge. And he was there the first time this happened, so I am thinking this won't be too hard. Right? RIGHT??!!?!? Honey, feel free to leave your credit card number and expiration date in the comments section.

It's Pretty Much Never All About You Anyway

As we all know, I am counting the minutes to my first prenatal appointment. While this queasy feeling and the self imposed positive thinking have eased my mind quite a bit, I still can't help feeling like the days are ticking by at a snails pace. Honestly, I am not sitting around biting my nails worrying and wondering about all of the horrible what if's... so what gives? Why such impatience?

I've been trying to figure it out for days and today it just dawned on me. It's because I want to tell people.

Yeah, I said it, I want to tell people that I am pregnant.

Not including my tens of blog readers, roughly 12 people know I am pregnant. Basically family and a couple of uber-close friends. I think it's pretty commonplace for people to wait until after their first ultra sound... or even their first trimester... before broadcasting their pregnancy to the world.

I've had to seriously stifle myself from telling several of my very good friends. And a few of the other moms in our Mommy and Me Pre Pre Pre Preschool class. I think that's normal, right? But, I also had to refrain from telling a couple of grocery store clerks. And a librarian. And a neighbor that I speak to less than once a month. And our mail carrier. And the guy that meanders around the marina handing out Watchtower magazines.

And then I started thinking... well, why can't I tell these people? Okay, maybe not the Watchtower guy. But why not everyone else? And it's not unique to me, either. Most women, even those who have never had a miscarriage or have even known someone who's had a miscarriage; they will wait too. Why?

I'll tell you why (and here's where I start to get a little huffy and pissed off). Because, what if something happens? Then you would have to go and tell everyone you told that something happened and that would suck. And why would that suck? Because we are not allowed to talk about somethings around here.

I told anyone who was interested (and several people who weren't) every gory detail of my emergency appendectomy or the removal of my tusk-like wisdom teeth. I have no qualms about telling people I was born with a club foot and that my ankle had to be broken and reset as a tiny infant baby to fix it. People will talk about pretty much everything under the sun including places where the sun don't shine, medically speaking, with the exception of the something.

And before you point this out to me, yes I realize that a miscarriage is a universe away from an appendectomy or a dentist appointment or having the shits. Yes, I know. But I still think it is pretty fucked up that at a time in a woman's life when she needs the most understanding and support, she can't truly get it because, Shhhh! People don't want to hear about the somethings!!!!

When I had to abandon my classroom in the middle of the school day(on the verge of tears and a nervous breakdown) to go to the final doctors appointment to find out that I would not be having that baby, I told my teacher's aide and the teacher kind enough to take over the rest of my classes for the day that a family member of mine was in a horrible car accident to explain what in the fuck was wrong with me. Some of my students wanted to know if I was all right, and I basically had to tell them to mind their own business. Telling the truth wouldn't have been appropriate, now would it? Yeah, that kind of pisses me off.

But on the upside, that whole experience definitely did turn my empathy up a notch. That period of time in which we were dealing with That Which May Not Be Spoken About, I thought about the sad little secret that I had and wondered how many other people out there had a sad little secret of some sort too. And I tell you, when someone is being a complete twat to me, I do take more pause now and try to remember... maybe it's not all about me.

I'm So Happy, I Could Puke

Literally.

I am on week 5 here and I have started to feel little waves of morning sickness here and there. And by little waves of morning sickness, I mean I have felt nauseous from about 11am to about 8pm for the past three days.

But, I'm not complaining, no sireee. I am completely thrilled about it. Really. I mean, there is the physical annoyance of spending hours in various stages of nausea from ooh, my tummy feels funny to oh, man, I am totally about to blow chunks. But, emotionally, I am absolutely happy about it. I know morning sickness doesn't necessarily mean anything, but it sure does seem reassuring to me, so I'll take it.

I haven't actually thrown up yet (thank you, Universe), but how nutzo would you think I am if I said that throwing up would completely jettison me over the moon with happiness? Yeah, I thought so.

That is all.*

*Sarah, I hope you noticed I am stealing your tag line... I hope this inspires you to update your blog... heeheeheee...

The Vow of Positivity is Kindof Hard

I found out I am pregnant 10 days ago, but it seems like it's been 10 years. Time seems to have slowed down to the point where I find myself thinking, is it still only today? how can it still just be today? it should totally be tomorrow already! i will be so much more pregnant tomorrow, oh come on tomorrow!!!!!!! I know I said I was going to think only positive thoughts about being pregnant, but that is apparently easier said than done.

I had my first official freak-out/breakdown over the weekend. As I was combing my hair after a shower, I decided that too much of my hair had come out on my comb... like six strands as opposed to zero... and that of course reminded me of when my hair was falling out by the handful during my first pregnancy, before I knew that pregnancy was not to be... so you can just imagine where my mind took it from there.

I was totally freaked out and crying in the bathroom. Then I was unnecessarily rude to my husband (that is opposed to being necessarily rude to my husband, which Kate Goselin probably knows more about than I do, or so she thinks) after he had just spent a couple of hours alone with TJ at the park. And to top it all off, I decided I needed to go to the mall, immediately, and by myself. Then of course I felt terrible for being such an ass and I was highly irritated with myself for breaking my Vow of Positivity.

There was also a point within the whole breakdown that I started calculating how much earlier I could make my first prenatal appointment and still get a definitive ultrasound. I even began to brainstorm some semi-urgent sounding symptoms that would allow me to coerce the booking nurse into switching my appointment around for me. Classy, huh?

But the good news is I did recover! I managed to pull myself together and get back on the happy thoughts train. Maybe it took several hours and trip to a crappy suburban mall, but I did manage to enjoy the rest of my weekend.

So, other than thaaaaaaaat, I would say I am doing pretty well...especially when I feel a wave of pukey morning sickness, in the early evening (which was, coincidentally, the time of day I felt the pukiest with TJ). And I try not to let myself think that the reason I am feeling nauseous could be that I am repressing all of my stress under the guise of this Vow of Positivity, and this is making my stomach bile production increase tenfold.

But seriously, I guess a person who is cynical and sarcastic by nature such as myself cannot turn into Polyanna Gumdrop overnight. So, any ideas for how I can distract myself for the next 25 days... and 15 hours... and, uhm, 30 minutes...???

This One is For You, Mama Bee... And You Too, Stalker Friend!

In honor of the fact that Mama Bee found my post about being 4 weeks pregnant to be yawn worthy, and in honor of the fact that one of my friends successfully stalked me to the point of discovering my super ultra uber private online journal (aka my blog, which actually isn't all that private since tens of people view it on like a daily basis and stuff), I am going to share with you a short post about one of my crazy pregnancy dreams.

I think I mentioned already that when I was pregnant with TJ I had crazy ass dreams that eventually turned into crazy ass sex dreams. Well, I have been having crazy ass dreams since about 5 dpo this time around and they have finally escalated to crazy ass sex dream status. So now you get to hear about one of my sex dreams, take that stalker friend!!! (And I hope you know that I mean 'stalker friend' in the best possible manner, right?)

So the first weirdo thing about this dream is that the person I was getting busy with was... my husband! Who has sex dreams about their own husband?!!? The dream was so off the wall, that you are not going to get much more detail than that because I really don't want the FBI or FCC knocking at my door anytime soon. I'll just say that the rest of the dream involved a toy dinosaur and a toothbrush. And I'll just let your imaginations take it from there.

Who's yawning now, bitches??!?!?!!

The Universe Just Keeps On With It..

We all know how The Universe loves to give me signs... sign of things such as being pregnant. Well, it seems as if The Universe really wants to make sure I've got the message because one of my dear FaceBook friends just made me aware of an fabulous maternity clothing giveaway.

Yes, onethousandwordsphotography is giving away $150 worth of maternity clothes from Village Maternity. Now, I may not be needing maternity clothing just yet, but we all know how challenged I am in the clothing and style department, so this would be such a fantastic giveaway for me to win!

The Four Week Report

I am a little over 4 weeks pregnant, and I can't say there is too much to report. Really the only pregnancy symptom I have is the crazy ass dreams I have been having for the past 10 nights or so. And by crazy ass, I mean vivid and loooong and oddly exhausting.

Maybe I could say that I am tired, and that is a pregnancy symptom; but I have pretty much been napping for the two hours that TJ naps every day. So I am not really all that tired.

I have a hand written pregnancy journal from my pregnancy with TJ and it seems like the morning sickness (which in my case was morning, mid morning, late morning, afternoon, late afternoon, evening, and night time sickness) didn't kick in until about 6 weeks. Maybe I will skip the "morning" sickness this time around, but I have been feeling a little queasy each morning for the past three days. This could be due to the fact that I just woke up from a freaky-ass dream though.

Of course for the most part I don't necessarily feel pregnant, but I have been doing a pretty good job not freaking out about that. My first prenatal appointment is exactly a month from now and I will be 8 + weeks by that time. I am hoping I will feel more pregnant by then.

And I must confess, I took another pregnancy test today. Yeah, they are just hanging out there in the bathroom and even though They say a pregnancy test won't tell you how pregnant you are, just if you are pregnant or not; it was still reassuring to get two dark lines that you could see from roughly four blocks away.

I will say that I do feel a lot of relief in that I don't feel the need to suck my spare tire in at all times now. If someone spies my gut, I don't really care since I am pregnant. Even though a person might think I am more like 3 months pregnant rather than 4 weeks... pffft...semantics, people.

Staying Positive (It's a Double Entendre, but Not One of Those Risque Ones)

I must admit I feel little ridiculous knowing that I am pregnant at a mere 3 + weeks. When I was much younger, I never gave the delicateness of pregnancy much thought. I assumed it worked like this: you do it a lot, you get pregnant, nine months later you have a baby.

Well, we all know that's not necessarily how it works.

Now I don't want to get all Debbie Downer here, but I have to talk about something awful and then I am not going to mention it again. Some of you already know this... before I got pregnant with TJ, I had a miscarriage. I am not going to dredge all of those feelings up again, but if you are curious, click on the link and read the post.

Having a miscarriage sucks really really really badly for many many many reasons. One of these reasons is that you can never really enjoy another pregnancy after a miscarriage. That innocence of you do it a lot, you get pregnant, and nine months later you have a baby is totally lost. We all know that horrible things happen, but when the horrible thing happens to you, it changes your perspective forever.

When the husband and I started trying to get pregnant again this time, I just accepted the fact that if and when (fingerscrossedknockonwood!) I did get pregnant again, I would just be a complete neurotic mess worrying endlessly until I could go to that first ultrasound appointment where they check for a little baby heartbeat. But just a few hours after I saw that "Pregnant" on that new fangled digital pregnancy test, I had an epiphany.

Yeah, I said it. As hokey as it sounds, I had an epiphany.

I was j u s t about to start with the worrying, when in a whirl of emotion and happiness it hit me: I don't have to worry. Whether this pregnancy is meant to be or not, worrying is not going to change anything. In fact, worrying about it will only make me moody and stressed out. Why not just be happy and enjoy the next month while I am waiting for my ultrasound appointment? It sure beats the alternative of biting my nails and churning my stomach for an entire month, especially since either way the outcome will be the same.

I know this is so simple you probably have the urge to rename me Captain Obvious. But sometimes it is hard to see the forest for the trees as They say. And you know what? Nobody ever said I knew everything. Not even every obvious thing, so there.

So if I sound a little too naïve or happy-go-lucky about this pregnancy (and I know some people out there are thinking that, because I totally think that about other people when they first get knocked up... look, it's nothing mean spirited, it's just that some people can get a little hardened when they have been through certain kinds of suffering), well, that's because I am choosing to be happy-go-lucky.

After I had the miscarriage, I totally beat myself up for being so innocent and believing that I could just get pregnant and, poof!, have a baby (I know, the nerve of me!). But really, that's the way it should be, right? This should be a hopeful, joyous, starry eyed time... not a hand wringing, preparing for the worst sort of time. So here I am making a vow to stay positive. I am making a conscious decision to block out all of the what if, what if, what if, what ifs and enjoy being pregnant.

I Wouldn't Drink That If I Were You

I apologize for being away for so long! You guys were so insistant that I get wasted that I decided it must be the right thing to do.

But I didn't have any liquor in the house so instead I went on a coke binge. At the end of it, I popped three expired Vicodin and slept for almost 19 hours. I figure if I am going to worry, I might as well do this right.

Okay, I am lying. I had a beer.

And I don't even think I finished the entire bottle. Yeah, Pearl, Pearl, The Party Girl just ain't what she used to be. Shut up. I am thirty six, people; and I have a two year old. What do you want from me? A Britney Spears impression?

So yeah, I had a beer Thursday night and then I woke up Friday morning and took another pregnancy test. One of those .54 cent ones you buy in bulk from the computerweb. Of course it was negative. In natural light, artificial light, flourescent light, by flashlight, it was negative. On a white backgroud, a black background, held at arms length or an inch from my face, it was negative.

FUCK!

When I woke up from my nap that day (What? They say sleep when the baby sleeps, right?), I decided to do what any sane person would do: take another pregnancy test. Because everyone knows that you could be not pregnant at 6 am and totally pregnant by 3pm, right? I mean, it's got to start somewhere doesn't it?

Plus, I am like NINE days past ovulation at this point. I mean, I should start my period at ten days past, which is like only one day away, so hellloooooo!!!!!! (This totally makes sense if you are obsessively trying to get knocked up, I promise.)

Of course I am out of the .54 cent pregnancy tests, so I have to whip out one of the name brand knock off tests, the Answer Early Cup. Yeah, I swear that's what it was called. It came with a little cup to pee in so you would have the option of peeing directly on the stick or peeing into the cup and then dipping the stick in your pee. Or maybe the little cup was for making yourself a jello shot if the test is negative, I don't know.

And when I say little cup, I mean little. I am not even sure this receptacle could be classified as a cup. It was about 2 inches in diameter and about 1 inch in depth. Seems to me like if you were to try to pee in there, you would merely create some sort of self imposed golden shower pee trajectory. And I can't really see how that would determine if you are pregnant or not. But hey, I'm not a doctor.

Anyway, I am also no amature. My bathroom cabinet is stocked with some dollar store disposable cups expressly for peeing in. So I pee in one of those instead. Why not just pee on the test? Well, I never do that. I like to be prepared. Prepared for maybe getting some sort of positive test and then needing that cup of pee to dip every other brand and type of test I have in the house. For the record, at this point I have four different brands (.54 cent, Answer, First Response, and Clear Blue Easy) and three different types (dip stick, pee-on, and digital). Like I said, I like to be prepared. And my bathroom cabinet is rather large.

So, I dip my stick, place it on the counter, and run out of the bathroom so I do not sit there and stare at it for 3 minutes because I am sure my stare will burn a hole in the result window and probably fuck up the test. I return to the bathroom about a minute and a half later (what? you haven't figured out that I am impatient?) and what do I see? Well, of course I see the glaring control line (yeah, thanks for that, gotta make sure I did the test right because pissing on stuff is one step down from rocket surgery.) But next to it, I see the slightest, faintest, whisper of a pink line.

No.Fucking.Way!

Oh.My.GOD! And then I start crying and tripping out and staring at the test and is that really a line I am seeing or am I just wishful thinking it is there?????

So I rip open one of the digital tests (see? aren't you glad I have a cup of pee?) and dip it. Because while a little pink line may be hard to see, the digital test says either Pregnant or Not Pregnant, and halleluja, I can read.

So I stand there staring at this little hourglass blinking on the display window for approximately 96 or 3 minutes and what do you know... I'm pregnant.

I'M PREGNANT!






ps: not to be all bossy and shit, but if you are a FaceBook friend of mine, please don't mention this there!

Put Your Throat Guards On

I took a pregnancy test today and it was negative. I am only eight days past ovulation; I know that's early, but still.

Why do I do this to myself?

FUCK!

Now I feel like punching someone in the throat. And of course that makes me think I must not be pregnant if the PMS is talking.

FUCK!

Not STFU, Rather SFTU!

Today I am seven days past ovulation; still at a point where no sane person would have any physical signs of pregnancy. So we all know what that means, right?

It's time to play one of my favorite games: Signs From the Universe!

1. Conception Time - If you think about this too much, it could quite possibly fall into the TMI category, so read quickly. If I am pregnant right now, that means this baby was conceived on TJ's 25 month birthday.

2. A Tisket, A Tasket - TJ came up to me yesterday and said, "Mommy! I have present for you!" She has been playing this "present" game ever since she saw the Nutcracker episode of The Wonder Pets (she also refers to her "bum" quite often; thanks a lot, Ming-Ming). So usually TJ's presents to me are nutcrackers, or a flashlight or wooden carrot that she has deemed to be a nutcracker. Well, yesterday her present was a basket that had two baby dolls in it (twins?!!? really, Universe?). And, AND, AND she said "It's your baby!" Any mother of a toddler knows that it is rare and unusual for any object to be labled anything other than "MINE" so this is obviously The Universe trying to make sure I get the point, right?

3. I Don't Want to Kill Anyone Right Now - Usually around six days past ovulation my pre-PMS kicks in and I have this undeniable urge punch somebody in the throat. Repeatedly. Until my fist turns into a bloody, pulpy mass of flesh and cartilage. Yeah. Uhm, okay. Basically, I get extreeeeeeemly irritable and the smallest thing can set me off. In fact, for about three days each month, I feel like I am teetering on the brink of a furious rampage. Sometimes I fall off that brink. Ask my husband. Anywaaaaay, I didn't have that feeling yesterday, and today, so far so good. It is only 8am though, so you may wish to keep guarding your throat.

4. The Dreams - I've been having crazy, vivid dreams ever since I wrote that post about my husband trying to kill me. So either I have gotten myself so worked up with my pregnancy obsession that my psyche is slowly trying to drive me insane on a nightly basis, or I am already starting to have those crazy pregnancy dreams.



5. Good Things Happen In Threes - Two of my bloggy friends (you are my friends, right? RIGHT??!?!) have had some major life changing good news recently. Stacie of Stacie's Madness just recently finalized her new home and closed on her divorce. Or something like that. And Calicobebop has been seriously busting her butt trying to find a new job and while it's not officially official, she basically has it in the bag. So both you ladies deserve some major CONGRATS! And since everyone knows that one of the rules of The Universe is that good things happen in threes, wouldn't it be convenient for The Universe if I could announce some major life changing good news too???



6. Award! - Speaking of Stacie, she just recently honored me with this award:

What? You don't seen this as a Sign From The Universe? I guess I have to spell out everything for you people. Okay, the girl in this picture obviously just got finished doing the do... I mean, check out those bedroom eyes! And, helllooooo, she is speaking French, the Language of Love! She is totally knocked up.


7. Water Birth - The Universe is obviously trying to squeeze in one more sign before I wrap this post up. As I am typing this, TJ is repeatedly dunking a little plastic baby in my coffee mug. An blatant sign that I will be having a home water birth, right?

Crazed Rambling. Click if You Dare...

I am beginning to wonder if all of this positive thinking is going to backfire on me. Because I am seriously convinced I am pregnant right now.

Yeah, right now, as in three days after I ovulated. Right now, as in if I am actually pregnant, a fertilized egg (what is that called again? a zygote? a blastocyst? [why does the spell checker want to change blastocyst to blessedest? what am I, a Duggar?] I can't remember. I hope he/she forgives me.) is probably just now exiting my fallopian tube and about five days away from even thinking about implanting into my uterus.

Aside: Okay, before you go thinking that I must be working on my medical degree in all of my spare time since I obviously have this in depth knowledge of the pregnancy process, I'll share this very and informative link with you. For those of you who do not click links, this one is a series of eight very interesting (if you are obsessed with pregnancy) little videos from NOVA. But feel free to continue to think of me as 'Dr. Wisdom' if you like.

I haven't had any Signs From the Universe just yet, but I am beginning to think that my positive thinking campaign has brainwashed me into thinking nothing but "I am pregnant" thoughts. And that scares the crap out of me. The pregnancy or idea of another child doesn't scare the crap out of me (well, maybe a little but that's a whole nother [as my redneck peeps would say] post). No, it scares the crap out of me because I really don't feel like being completely devastated by not being pregnant this month.

So I am beginning to wonder if it was such a great idea for me to strip away my cynical defense mechanism. I guess if I am pregnant, I will be able to say, Aha! See positive thinking works! And if I am not pregnant, I will be able to say, See, I knew it! The glass is half empty, motherfucker!

But, at a mere three days past ovulation, there is no point in speculating just yet.

Or is there...

I was happily attempting to go about my business, since there are certainly no real pregnancy symptoms to analyze at this point, when I came across this article. For you link avoiders, this is an article that claims there is such a thing as Early Pregnancy Factor... a substance that is detectable in the blood of pregnant mammals anywhere from SIX to TWENTY FOUR hours after fertilization. Let that sink in for a minute.

So what if this article was written nine years ago. And so what if it was written by some group with a not so hidden agenda (trying to prove that birth control pills cause abortions or something like that). And so what if First Response has yet to develop a home pregnancy test that I can use six hours after fertilization (can you hear my fingers drumming over here, First Response? Get on it people!).

The fact that there is some change that occurs in your body a measly six to twenty four hours after fertilization is great news! Why? Because that means I can hallucinate, analyze, imagine, obsess over and google all of the early pregnancy symptoms I want for an entire two weeks!!!! And, AND, AND... when I do turn out to be pregnant this month, I can say, See? I am NOT crazy! Except there are those pregnancy hormones... that make you crazy...

Why Is My Husband Trying to Murder Me?

I told myself I wouldn't neglect my blog during the boring ass two week period of time that I am waiting to ovulate this month. But I haven't been inspired to write a decent post... shit, I haven't even been able to come up with a mildly amusing Facebook status update.

Sigh...

So, lucky reader, you get yet another peek into Pearl's psyche: last night's dream.

I had a dream my husband was trying to murder me last night. It was one of those creepy weird dreams that leave you with that creeped out feeling that takes you a few hours to shake after you wake up. I guess that's what happens when the love of your life wants to kill you?

My husband was chasing me around the house with a glass (and in my dream mind it was obvious he was going to use this glass to murder me). I somehow made it to our front door and was able to open the deadbolt and lock and escape (I am guessing it is significant that, in this dream, the door opened from the opposite side that it opens in real life...???) I ran out of the house in only my tshirt and undies, screaming.

I ran across the street to my neighbor's house because their front door was open and some of them were sitting on the porch. I was freaking out because TJ was back at home, in her crib asleep. But the couple that lives in this house didn't seem overly concerned. In fact, the husband starts telling me how he didn't exactly like my husband because he thought he was stuck up because he drives a Lexus (no, my husband does not drive a Lexus in real life).

Then this neighbor guy proceeded to go across the street and get my husband! Gee, thanks for protecting me dude! I of course started yelling at my husband and told him I was going to get TJ and he wasn't allowed in the house with me. Then I woke up.

Crazy, huh? Especially given the fact that my husband and I are not currently in any stage of an argument, and I don't think I've ever even heard my husband raise his voice... ever. And believe me, if anyone is going to provoke even the calmest natured man to raise his voice out of exasperation, it would be me.

So, what the fuck is up with that dream?

Positive Thoughts (Pun Intended...)

I just finished reading a book... a memoir actually... where the mother in the story was batshit crazy. She put her children in impossibly terrible situations, but she had this cheerful refrain, "I am going to think nothing but positive thoughts..."


As a general rule, I don't take lifestlye cues from people who are whacko. But for some reason, this refrain has stuck in my head. I am not all Pollyanna Brightside living on Gumdrop Lane in Rainbow County, but I have decided that I am "going to think nothing but positive thoughts." Or at least try.


See, I am a cynic by nature. I think cynicism and sarcasm are my two main defense mechanisms. But I have decided that I am going to attempt to keep a positive attitude about getting pregnant and each time I think something negative, I am going to mentally slap myself and redirect the negative thought to a positive one.


Without further ado, allow me to direct your attention to the two new nifty tickers on my sidebar over yonder ---> The first one is the ultimate in positive thinking... it is my "If I Was Pregnant Right Now Ticker." I have always thought it was odd that pregnancy was calculated from the first day of your last period... for those of you who have not wrapped your brain around this, that means you start calculating your pregnancy before you even ovulate. And for the first two weeks of your 'pregnancy' you are not even any where near pregnant. So technically, if I get pregnant during this cycle, I am pregnant right now. Kind of a mind fuck if you ask me.

The second ticker is more for me... just your basic cycle status ticker. Or possibly it could be for my husband so he can check my blog to see when I am a sure thing. You don't even have to open a bottle of wine, honey.

And to aid in my positive thinking, I've added a third ticker to show just exactly how long it's been since I've been trying to get knocked up. Truthfully, when I created this ticker I was shocked at how little time it has actually been. It feels like it has been a lot longer than 2+ months, so seeing that is has been less time than what it feels like is nice. In fact, just stating that it has only been 2+ months makes me feel like a little bit of a jack ass for complaining and obsessing so much. But, in my defense, it has three cycles.

Now I need your help. Any tales of how positive thinking worked a miracle (or just supported something kinda cool happening) in your life?