I ::heart:: Blog Fart Fridays!

Oh yeah, I have a blog.

Thank god it's Blog Fart Friday.

1. Hypochondirac Much? - I guess I may have overreacted with the whole self diagnosed incisional hernia thing. As it turns out, I do not need surgery and I probably just have an abdominal weakening from pregnancy. And it would probably be a good idea to slow down on the advanced pilates moves until I am a little more conditioned to acutally exercising using my abdominal muscles.

2. My Trip to Florida - So yes, I ended up taking Baby to Florida to visit my parents for about a week. Here is where I should bore you to death with the details of my trip. And maybe give you glaucoma with an assload of lame beach pictures. What? You're still alive? Okay, maybe I will describe the actual flight to and fro and that should put you into an ennui coma. Next!

3. Dear Clear Plastic Bra Straps - Surely this blog post has already been written? Hello, it's not like I can't see those bra straps just because they are "clear". Especially if there is a visible pool of sweat built up underneath that non-breathing plastic material. I mean, they are clear plastic, not invisible. I'd much rather just see your damn bra strap, but if you insist on trying to camouflage the damn things, at least be a little sophisticated and invest in something cool like this.

4. Speaking of Cool Stuff - Don't be a douche, go check out Mom to Bee's cool giveaway. Mama Bee even has a cool badge for me to post here, but I am too technically challenged to get it to work. Seriously, I will actually patronize this store now thanks to Mama Bee bringing it to my attention... cuuuute stuff!


5. Oh Yeah, I'm Not Pregnant - blah, blah, blah.

6. Maybe the 50's Stepford Wives Were Onto Something -I am beginning to think my life would be easier if I waited on my husband hand and foot. A crazy statement, I know. But he makes so much of a fucking mess taking care of himself that I think we would both be better off if I just did it all in the first place. And I could also put a booger in his coffee mug every once in a while.

7. What's in a Name? - I am still trying to think of a good blog name for Baby. I am thinking it is going to be Turkey-Joe, aka TJ, but I can't commit to that just yet. Will I need to anally go back and edit all of my previous posts with a find and replace of Baby for Turkey Joe?

Pity, Party of One

Why my life sucks right now...

As I was doing sit ups this morning, I noticed that each time I sat up, some weird alien like protrusion was poking through my belly... right at the site of one of the incisions from my recent appendectomy. Fast forward to now... post conversation with nurse-friend and hours of extensive google research... and I believe I have an incisional hernia.

Fucking great.

Most likely, this hernia was caused by me not allowing enough time for my incisions to heal before picking up my then 18 month old daughter. Because we all know that all you have to do is tell an 18 month old 'no' and they totally get it. So the sutures popped open and now my bowels are trying to poke through my stomach. Great. And sexy too.

Of course surgery sucks for anyone, I know this thankyouverymuch. So why is it extra sucktastic in my eyes? Well, so glad you asked!

First of all, this is all going to go down while my husband is on vacation. Which means the few weeks the three of us were going to spend some lovely quality time together as a family, the few weeks I have been looking forward to all year, the few weeks we were going to spend taking our daughter to all of the fabulous places the bay area has to offer since she is now old enough to enjoy them, are going to instead be spent by me recovering from the stupid surgery that didn't necessarily ever need to happen.

And getting pregnant? Well I guess we can scrap that idea for at least a month. Maybe more. Fucking awesome.

And just to make sure this experience is especially crapalicious, two days ago my parents offered to pay for plane tickets for me and Baby to visit them in Florida before I possibly have to start work again this coming fall. How nice would that be? A $free$ trip to Florida to hang out with my parents who will essentially spoil and entertain my daughter for a week or so while I am lounging by the pool, reading trashy celebrity magazines and sunning my muffin top. Well, I guess I won't fucking find out how nice that would be since it isn't going to fucking happen now. Did I mention I even found an affordable direct flight from NoCal to Florida? Yeah, that won't happen again any time this century.

Not in a good mood right now.

Random Thoughts, aka Pearl Can Fart Too

I thought I would join in on the Blog Fart Fridays fun since I was like Jaci's first reader ever (She totally had me at her letter to Stouffers). Plus if Mama Bee is going to do it, it must be cool.

So here goes...

~Dear Husbands Out There: taking care of your child while your wife goes to the grocery store to buy the groceries needed to cook the weeks worth of meals that she planned and wrote out a grocery list for does not constitute a "break" for her. A pedicure? Yes. A Massage? Yes. Grocery shopping? No.

~I really need to come up with a better way to refer to my daughter on this blog. Currently, she is Baby and my husband is Husband. Not a lot of creativity there. And seeing that Baby will be two in less than a month, I can't really call her a baby much longer... especially if I am going to be having a baby soon. Too confusing. So, not a lot of foresight here either. I have about a bazillion nicknames for both of them in real life, so I guess I should just pick one for blogging purposes and stick to it.

~I worry about my child's obsession with television, specifically the Wonder Pets. And are these Wonder Pets psychologically damaging me as well since I find myself wishing Linny would tell Ming Ming to shut the fuck up every once in a while ? And am I contributing to her obsession by attempting to limit her television viewing? Should I just leave it on all day every day so she will get sick of it?

~I really wish we had a fucking dishwasher.

~I dont like sharing my food. I never have. I blame my parents, but that's another story. As all mothers know, you will be sharing your food with your child. Even if your child has just had a seven course meal and is so stuffed she can barely move, she will want some of whatever you are eating... especially if it is exactly the same thing she is eating or in any way different from what she is eating. I have come to terms with sharing food with my daughter and I am happy to do it. However, I draw the line at sharing a drink. Have you seen a toddler backwash? Ugh! It gives me the fucking heebie jeebies to see her drool/food backwash swirling around in the water as she is drinking. BLEH! So needless to say, if she wants a drink of my water, it just simply becomes her water.

It's a Big Day!

Oh wait, were you expecting something exciting? Well, sorry to dissappoint, I am probably the only one that would find the events of this morning exciting... possibly my husband.

Anyway, this marks the first morning of me recording my basal body temperature since getting pregnant with Baby (I really need to come up with a different blog-name for my daughter... suggestions?). For those of you who don't know what a basal body temperature is and/or why meticulously tracking it can be useful information (or give an obsessive neurotic control freak like myself a false sense of, uhm, control in the whole getting knocked up process), I don't have the time or energy to explain it.

And if I did, I would probably do a miserably inaccurate job. If you are interested, check out Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler. Sister gave me this book when we (we as in me and my husband, not me and Sister) started trying to get pregnant the first time and I think a better name for this book would be The Getting Knocked Up Rosetta Stone Slash Bible. In fact, I think every woman, trying to get knocked up or not, should read this book. I wish someone had given me a copy when I was about 15; it explains everything that goes on with your body regarding your cycle and demystifies much about the female body. But don't listen to me; go read the 1000+ five star reviews on Amazon. This is beginning to sound like a lead-in to a book give away, but there is no way in hell I am giving you my copy. Get your own. Technically it's not my copy anyway since Sister loaned it to me... about three years ago.

Anywaaaaaaaaaay, in a nutshell, tracking your temperature each morning gives you a good idea of when to do it if you want to get knocked up. So I finally figured out how to use my 'instant read' thermometer after not waiting the full minute (is a minute 'instant'? seems like a long time to me...) yesterday morning and screwing up the process, so here I am on cycle day three with the first dot on my chart. So here's to me and my line graph taking obsession to the next level! Hooray!

You Can Probably Hear the Fat Lady Singing from There

It's official, I am NOT pregnant. Big surprise.

On the bright side, at least I don't have to worry what all that spotting meant (in regards to a pregnancy). And, if I teach this coming school year, this will give me one more month of school that I don't have to plan for a sub (since I would have been going on maternity leave mid-March). And, our daughter will be at least one month older and therefore more mature when the new baby arrives. See? Silver lining abounds!

But the best part is that I can return to one of my favorite pastimes: Mad Scientist. I can obsessively take my temperature every morning and record the numbers in my handy cycle tracking software. And I can make hypotheses about thinks like when I will ovulate, or if taking my temperature 5 minutes later than the morning before will throw off my calculations. I can stare at the cool little line graph the software makes and google things like, 'trying to conceive number two' and 'best intercourse positions for conception' and 'preseed'. Hours of fun!

I'm Still an Asshole

My period still hasn't shown up and I am still spotting. Five consecutive days of spotting, what the fuck is that? And like more than a week before my period is due. If I am not pregnant, is something wrong with me? And if I am pregnant, what does all of this fucking spotting mean? I will surely worry about the pregnancy for the entire 40 weeks. Oh who am I kidding, I will worry for all eternity.

And my mind is like a veritable ping pong ball.... I am so emotional, I must be pregnant! No, asshole, you are emotional thanks to your new found obsession with getting pregnant. I feel nauseous, this must be morning sickness! No, asshole, you are nauseous from all of the stress you are putting on yourself obsessing over whether or not you are pregnant. I feel bloated, it's a sign! No, asshole, you feel bloated thanks to that greasy leftover eggplant in spicy garlic sauce.

And why why WHY does it always happen: when you are trying to get pregnant, you find out some pigface you used to go to high school with is pregnant?!!? Who in the fuck announces that they are pregnant via a Facebook status update anyway? Can you say douchtastic???? Well, hello world, let me just also announce that said Facebook fake-friend of mine also totally ripped one in 10th grade English class when she bent over to pick up her folder and then tried to deny it and people called her "Tater Cutter" and threw french fries at her in the cafeteria for weeks. Or maybe it ways days. Okay, I feel much better now. Yeah, I'm mature.

So anyway, back to me me me... At least I have not been out of my mind enough to actually take a pregnancy test. Everyday, I tell myself that my period is going to show up the next morning, but nope. Still, spotting is spotting and that is technically bleeding and who takes wastes a perfectly good name brand pregnancy test when they are fucking bleeding??!!!?? Only an asshole. But I really really really want to take a test, so I guess that makes me an asshole too.

Carry on...

With All of This Blind Faith I Should Start a New Religion

Consider yourself warned: If you are my husband or my brother's foxy coworker or anyone else that gets squeamish at impropriety, you should probably skip today's post.

So I am on day 20 of my cycle, and spotting again. First spotting was spotted at day 18, then the universe decided to fuck with me a little bit and stop the spotting for a day, and now it is back. And I am feeling cramps. I would say my period will show up tomorrow morning with her suitcase and a bundt cake with a "Fuck You" written in the glazed topping.

And why am I so pissed / depressed anyway? We aren't even supposed to be trying to get pregnant until next month. This was like a bonus round, a practice run if you will. And HELLO, who gets pregnant on the first try??!!?! No body would appreciate it if it were too easy. Gah, what the fuck is wrong with me???!!!!

Besides the fact that this looks like my body is telling me that I am not pregnant, I am pissed off that I would be starting my period on day 21 of my cycle. Dear Uterus, three weeks is not a proper fucking cycle! So now of course I am worried that something is wrong with me. How can a person possibly get pregnant if she gets her period three days after she ovulates? Fuck!

But, wouldn't you know it's true, hope springs eternal. I must be the biggest fucking asshole on the planet because I still think that maybe there is some chance that I could be pregnant. Yeah, my speed demon fertilized egg not only traveled down my fallopian tube at the speed of light, but must also be roughly the size of a soft ball because when it hurled itself into wall of my uterus it displaced enough of the lining to make it appear and feel as if I am getting my period. And my uterus must have also decided that it needed to enlarge by about 6000% in the last four hours to accommodate this ginormous soft ball, thus explaining the period like cramps.

Yeah, even though my uterine lining is CLEARLY falling out of my vagina, somewhere deep inside my pathetic little heart, I still believe that I could possibly be pregnant.

Bloated Expectations

Those of you well versed in trying to get knocked up already know that I am the period of my joyous monthly cleansing cycle (yeah, I had a yoga instructor that called the women's cycle as such. I murdered him while he was doing gofuckyourself savasanah) that is referred to as the two week wait, or 2ww. Just so you know, the two week wait refers to the two weeks post ovulation in which you are waiting to NOT get your period.

Before I go off on some fertility/conception/pregnancy/parenthood acronym bitch fest, I would just like to say that I believe that post has been written and rehashed and pummeled into the ground. So I will not bore you. At least not that way.

So anyway, it may be hard to believe judging from my previous post, but this is actually the best part of your cycle if you are trying to get pregnant. At this point, you have done all you can do (punny!) and you can just relax (yeah right!) and let nature take it's course. And this is a time of hope... you don't know if you are pregnant, but there is no reason to believe you are not, so you can feel hopeful and excited. Maybe, maybe, maybe!!!

This is the time to think all your happy thoughts and daydream about life's possibilities. This is the time to talk about children's names with your husband, even though his response is, "Honey, I am trying to concentrate on breathing." Okay.... uhmmmm.... yeah, file that one under manslation.

Speaking of manslation, the husband and I were recently talking about the death of Michael Jackson and he (the husband, not Michael Jackson) admitted to not being very familiar with MJ's discography. However, he did say he liked that one song, "Billie Jean King". I swear, I can't make this shit up. Digressing!

I especially feel this hope and excitement just 4 days into the two week wait. Because no one is crazy enough to think of taking one of those early pregnancy tests just 4 days in. There is no WAY it could be positive even if you are pregnant. I know, I know, some wackadoo on immoreobsessedwithgettingpregnantthanyouaredotcom got a positive pregnancy test when she got up to go pee 5 seconds after she ovulated and had her way with her husband, but I am talking about the real world.

And at just 4 days in, I can even still tell myself that I will not test until I am late even though we all know that it will sound perfectly reasonable to pee on a $8 piece of plastic and cardboard a mere four days from now. But that's four days from now... that's an eternity!!

This is also the time when you could quite possibly be checked into a mental institution for hearing things and hallucinating, also known as: experiencing early pregnancy symptoms. Okay, come on people. Let's be rational. You do NOT have pregnancy symptoms when you are less than three weeks pregnant! But there are women who swear they do.

And I am one of them.

When I was pregnant the first time, I had this bloated feeling that began before I was even late, I swear. And it wasn't a normal bloat. (Are you still reading this?? Really???!?!) It was very distinctive. I didn't think anything of it at the time, and as you all know, or at least you do now, that pregnancy ended in an early miscarriage.

The second time I got pregnant, I tested positive three days after Thanksgiving, two days before my two week wait was over. But I knew I was pregnant Thanksgiving night. Riding home from my husband's sister's house, I felt that same distinct bloat and I thought to myself, "this is how I felt when I was pregnant last time... maybe...."

You are probably thinking I had too many helpings of pumpkin pie. But, I swear, I knew!

Okay, it probably IS coincidence, but that isn't stopping me from hoping I feel bloated in a few days.

Comments Flomments

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