Baby-mama drama

So as we are approaching week 30.. I'm already feeling like a well done turkey just waiting for my timer to pop, and I know I have soo many weeks left. I'm ready to get this little munchkin out and in my arms, although I want him to grow big and strong and come when he's ready.  See, I cant keep my mind straight, I'm literally going bananas in this body of mine. Not to mention driving my husband bat-shit-cray with my emotional roller-coaster ride.

I mean, where do I start? Well the latest is the other night when I had a beautiful contraction, you know a little preview to birth-day. (Thank you body, you're doing me well) And my husband is passed out, as it is like 5 am. I'm so upset, I am loudly saying his name "Patrick! PATRICK!" with no response, I go to kick him (very hard, I may add) and while doing so I pulled a muscle or pinched a nerve in my back. Now in more pain, I scream "PATRICK!" this time. He wakes up to me, the crazy lady on the other side of the bed! So half asleep, he asks what he can do.. I tell him to rub my back - duh! The guy falls asleep after what feels like 10 seconds with his 400lb arm over my belly, as if that was making things more comfortable. So I of course, with 100% sanity, hit him over the head with my stuffed teddy-bear, (it may have been more than once, I cant remember) he barely budges and just starts to rub my back for maybe 5 more seconds until his snoring begins. So then I cried myself to sleep, dramatic are we? I think so. ;)

What else, oh yes yelling at him in the dr's office. . in front of the nurse. That was a proud moment of mine. I am hoping she sees this more often. Or maybe that's why a lot of the women in the waiting room come without husband, to avoid embarrassment. Haha, I'm catching on slowly obviously.  So everytime you go to the dr's office, they make you get on a scale, which is such crap! Yes, I'm gaining weight, cant you tell by looking at my ever-so-expanding belly?! I mean you're supposed to drink 500 gallons of water, eat every 2 hours and then they want to weigh you after a full days meal, its just rude. So anyways, I get on the scale and cover the number because my husband loves to be nosey. So she jots it down, it clears and then I uncover the god-forsaken number. We get into the room and shes taking my blood pressure, etc and there's my annoying baby-daddy looking at her chart on the counter!!! I scream, "STOP IT! You don't have to know my weight!!!!!" The nurse chuckles and then excuses herself because the Dr. is calling her. Which i think she just got scared of me with needles and heavy equipment around. Baby-mama drama.  LOL! So then Patrick, trying to calm me "Babe, you are just under what you should be at this point according to the book, etc.' All I hear is blah blah blah, you're fat, blah blah fat blah! So I cry, more like ball, like a baby missing its pacifier.

My weight is definitely a touchy subject, poor Patrick has to watch everything he says. Not only about me, but about himself. Saturday, we had Rishi's birthday to attend to that evening. And Eve & Joey were coming over first for some dinner and drinks. So I had to find something to wear, and not one of the 6 outfits I usually rotate either, this was a special occasion- lol. Well Patrick gets home from the gym after running like 10 miles, and I'm sitting in my closet on the floor defeated by my clothes options. He passes the closet "I feel great! What a good workout. Im going to shower, babe." Of course, I start balling. So happy YOU FEEL GREAT! Is it selfish to want him to gain the weight i have to, too? And the sad thing is, I make our meals, we eat the same exact things, I even eat smaller portions. Yet hes Mr Skinny and I am.. well you've seen me! lol. Its just a snowball of dog shit! I'm an emotional wreck, it's out of my control. LOL.

Something else I just cant control is some noises coming out of my body lately. Like belching, I hate belching and especially when its coming out of me. But they've contributed to some of the most embarrassing moments of my life (up til now - with pregnancy). For example, I was in the middle of a meeting with our editorial staff, and during mid-sentence I belched. I of course am surrounded by 5 men, no women, so noone can back me up that I'm not a pig, I'm just burbing from the 65 glasses of water I had that day! Thankfully they've been pretty silent lately.. so I'm able to control at least people hearing me if they cant see it while looking at me and the look of horror that's on my face afterwards. So classy. But I will block it out of my head, as I'm sure men don't think too much about belching.. right?

Yet, there was another instance last weekend that I will never be able to forget or block out of my head. Patrick, Dustin and I were at home depot getting paint for the baby's room. And we were walking around Home Depot for a good 95 hours, making me really uncomfortable. Finally leaving, we are about to get in Dustin's 2dr jeep, I have to lift the seat up for Patrick to get in the back. But before doing so I kindly, let out a little bit, teeny-tiny bit of gas that I had been holding onto for those 95 hours. Of course i didn't look around before doing so, I just assumed no-one was around besides my husband, of course. For Dustin had already hopped in the car. Well to my horror surprise, there was a man at his car next to us with his window down. Which I had no clue until Patrick states "I'm sorry sir, let me apologize for my wife, shes pregnant." I instantly was mortified and was screaming at him to get into the jeep, cause i couldn't get into the jeep until he got into the back seat. Of course he's taking his sweet time, a little part of me is dying inside every second he takes. I couldn't look at the man, i couldn't let this man see my face. Finally my annoying husband who thinks its hilarious when Im embarrassed climbs into the back and I hop in and yell to Dustin, "GO! GO!" Needless to say, I was mortified. But I cant control my body, I'm telling you. It's like this little man inside me is like his Daddy,  already loves getting pleasure out of embarrassing me. I cant wait to tell him these stories on his wedding day, a little payback I tell you.

Regardless of the horrifying instance in the parking lot, the baby's room looks fantastic! Better than the pinterest room where I got the idea. The guys did a great job! It's coming along nicely and getting ready for baby-Brady. We put the crib together last week, dressers up, and got a picture framed that's going on the wall. It is starting to feel real, I mean as if it didn't already with the belly protruding from my body. It's going to feel even more real this weekend, we have family and friends coming into town to celebrate our baby shower. We are really looking forward to it, even though finding a dress to wear has been quite the challenge. But after multiple shopping trips, multiple returns and credits,  hours.. maybe even days of online shopping, headaches and tears we may have a winner! But we shall see Saturday, won't we.

Well with all that, I am so excited for our little man to come. Not to mention so thankful for my amazingly patient husband that really has been fantastic through-out this miracle of a journey. We are absolutely blessed to be pregnant, even if it does seem like a rollarcoaster ride that you just cant seem to get off of! ;) Better keep my seat belt on, the rides still going.. all hands and feet inside the cart!

Cheers to 10 more weeks!

More cushion for the pushin'

So as I approach the 3rd trimester in just a few days, I think its time to invest in some maternity tops! I have been able to get away with standard tops until now. Although I'm rotating the only same 6 shirts that still fit, flowy blouses and leggin's - you rock!

But I get discouraged not only with spending the money on fat-clothes but what really chaps my ass is the fact that these 'maternity models' are not even pregnant. I mean c'mon.. who are they trying to fool? I just get mad shopping online because I see these skinny-brats with their little pillow stuffed under their shirt, sun-kissed tan, and little waste & hips, "Biiiatch, I know you just got off the beach with your skimpy bikini drinking a mai-tai, skinny ass"- You're not foolin me! Is it normal to hate everyone whose skinny? Cause I do. lol. As my husband would say, "Babe, you're not fat - you're pregnant." It's all the same to me, haha. Not to mention my hips are wider than ever before, Dr. says they have to get ready for the baby to get through. I'm OK fine - well then why do my thighs have to get bigger too? Is that for cushion for the baby to come out? More cushion for the pushin', now I know they were talking bout us preggos? 

SO not only do I have to shop online and start at these skinny posers, has anyone seen maternity wear lately, its frumpy and dumpy! Im like we already look fat, can we at least look stylish? I have to shop in the UK to even get some cute dresses and tops - shh, dont tell my husband. I'm not sure how Im going to slip these packages into the new apartment without him knowing. Especially cause I wear the same 6 things over and over - hes likely to see a change. I cant pull off the "This? So old, Its from my fat college days.. can you believe it fits?!" Ill just bust out the tears - he's been pretty good at letting things go once I start crying like a kid in church.  I'm just prepping him for whats to come in the next few months - you're welcome babe.

So the new apartment is great, although the move was a real treat this week. We had been packing for a good week or two, who knew we had accumulated so much crap over the 5.5 years we lived at 770. But boy did we, and when I say we .. I say 'things I just had to have, in the back of a closet with dust on them'. Such as 4.5 or so years ago, we were in Punta Cana for his sisters wedding and we stopped off at a gift shop. I just had to have these leather coasters that sat in a leather boat with 'Punta Cana' written on it. Patrick, of course saying we dont need it and its a waste of money. After arguing in the store and not getting my way, I run outside to cry and pout cause we werent going to have any memories from Punta Cana, like the 450 pictures i took werent enough. But when his dad approached him and said, "Son, sometimes its just better to say OK and let them have it." So Patrick purchased them and we got on the bus and I was a giddy school girl. Well, those coasters I just had to have, Patrick found in a closet, leather hard as rocks and literally dustier then your running shoes, "Remember these?" I of course forgot we had them, haha, needless to say after another discussion - were keeping them to remind me of my shopping issues. lol. They're in a box, I guess ill be reminded of it when I am unpacking again in a couple years. I guess I was crazy before I got pregnant too, but then I at least got to blame it on the alc..alc..alcohol! (remember that song?)

In addition to the weight gain, anger toward skinny people, and consistent craziness I'm always tired too. So you could imagine, how Patrick was feeling when Id pack a box and sit down for 20 min's, pack a box and sit. He was a great husband and didn't say anything - probably cause he didn't want to poke the sleeping bear. But even packing just a few boxes I was exhausted. So I took a nap one day. After a couple hours, I woke up to make dinner and pack some more. After only a few hours of being awake, we went to bed. We were laying there and hes talking up a storm, which is typically me at night but I was so tired from all the packing and resting I was doing. Finally I said, "Babe, Im sorry - Im really tired. Can we go to bed.. ". He responds, "How are you tired, you slept most the day?" I snapped "IM MAKING A BABY!" He kindly responds, "Lets not toot our own horn here." I don't know if he gets it..

Sleep is far from consistent these days - my little boy acts as if hes practicing taebo in there, treats it like his own personal kick boxing studio. So I wake up from time to time during the night and early mornings. This is a pretty daily occurrence. So it annoys me when I look over and my handsome husband is sleeping ever so nicely. So sometimes I try to wake him up in the most discrete way, although if the discrete way doesn't work - I just do what I did the other night. So I'm laying there, staring at him sleep as if his son isnt beating up my insides. And oh so softly I tap his pillow, like a cat, purrrr. Nothing. So I do it softly again, soft tap on his pillow. Nada. So being my impatient self, I give it a ol' hard push and tap. He wakes up, looks at me and I say "Hii".  Lets just say, he wasn't up for a chat. So after a few nights of kicking him cause i had a "twitch", or coughing cause I had a "hair-ball", and cuddling cause "I'm cold".. I now just let the poor guy sleep. He's less cranky that way. So me and my little head-butter just do our own thing from 4-6a. lol.


Speaking of my handsome husband.. I'm getting the idea that he thinks his sons room is going to be a little man cave for all the things I don't want/have space for in the apt. Like pictures of Detroit, random sports memorabilia and this awful bronze baseball player statue he got on one of his man dates with Joey. "But Joey gets to have his out!" So right now it's on the book shelf in the baby's room, which is still a cluster - so we shall see if it stays. Thanks Joey Case. Speaking of 'thanking Joey Case' The most recent is for Grover's first birthday party, It was Ravens themed event from the balloons down to the New Orleans street names on the walls, clever. Although genius, he didn't fool me - someone say Superbowl party? A lot easier to get 'birthday party' idea past the wife, lol.  So as my husband commented on the 'great' decor every 5 mins, I choose to keep my 'dont even think about it' comment to myself and I quietly thanked my lucky stars the Lions have a slim chance in going to the superbowl - so I shouldn't be too concerned. LOL.

Well as we are creeping on 27 weeks, I am starting to get the nesting syndrome everyone talks about. Poor Patrick has a honey-do list the size of California. Paint the baby's room is the next to-do. So we need to get to work on the room itself, right now its our storage/box room which just wont cut it for much longer. Although the room is a disaster, his closet is coming along quite nicely. He's got a bunch of outfits to match Daddy's. Would you expect anything less from my husband who has more clothes than a Nordstrom warehouse and I who has a serious shopping addiction... :) So having his little closet set up - somehow gives me piece of mind. Even when my husband pulls out a dusty ol' nick-nack and says "Babys room?". Ahh boy or should I say ahhhh boys. I'm going to have my hands full with these Brady boys, I just know it.

Onto kicking my 3rd trimesters ass..