Pregnant

No, not me.

Did I scare you?

I've been thinking about pregnancy a lot lately, and part of it is because I'm about to become an aunt for the fourth time! I am very excited - it's my brother's wife and she and I are very close as she has no sisters of her own and I like to keep tabs on how her pregnancy has evolved. They live on the east coast so I don't get to see them all that much. But, as her due date approaches, I've been hounding her about her doc appointments, and she is still over two weeks away from being due, and this is her first child, so of course, she's thinking she's going late.

She had an appointment yesterday so afterward she called to give me the news:

--80 percent effaced
--Three centimeters dilated
--Zero station

When she told me, I started screaming: "YOU'RE LIKE ONE-THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH LABOR!" I was on the bed begging for Nubane at that point, paging the anesthesiologist, demanding action, screaming that there is no way I can walk the freaking hall in this kind of pain.

Her progress is HUGE for a first-time mom and I was psyched to know she would soon become a mom! And my brother would be a dad--Oh Lord!

So, I was having a dream about her last night, and she was at eight centimeters, and she was telling me she had to push and I was so excited to know she was almost there, and you know how you're having a good dream (this was a good dream because I wanted her to have her baby and I was in the room with her and while I have experienced childbirth, I have never actually viewed a live childbirth)... anyway, you're having a good dream and then just when the good part is about to happen (my sis in law pushing out her baby), you get awakened.

I hear, "Mommy, mommy, mommy."

It's Diva, waking me up from my good sister-in-law-eight-centimeters-and-about-to-give-birth dream.

I went into Diva's room.

"My butt hurts."

I'm thinking she was laying in a strange position and she got a cramp but no, she had to interupt my good dream because she had to go poop in the middle of the night. Who the heck wakes up in a deep sleep because of a bowel 'situation?'

Anyway, bad news was my dream got interupted. Good news was Diva didn't shit the bed.

This a.m. my phone rings at 7:30 a.m. and it's my sis in law calling. I'm thinking, "Oh wow, this is it! Her water broke last night, she's in labor, she's got the epidural, and that's why she's calling so early."

Nope.

This is exactly how the conversation went:

Me: Hello?

Her: Mucus Plug -- OUT!

Like she's giving me a step-by-step account of the progress of her impending labor.

I started screaming again, "Oh my gosh! You are going to be a MOM like before the weekend is out!" I was so psyched for her.

Me: So, tell me!

Her: It fell out when I was in the shower!

She then goes on to tell me that at first she thought a small bloody little frog fell out of her and she almost kicked it into the corner of the shower.

Then, SHE PICKS IT UP TO SHOW IT TO MY BROTHER!

I am laughing hysterically as I relay this story to you, but some of you might find this rather gross, so apologies to you for the nature of the graphicness.

Anyway, I'm on edge all day because SHE WAS GOING TO DRIVE THE HOUR TO WORK TODAY! And I was like, "No way!"

She said my brother was mad at her too for doing that, but today was the day she was going to pitch her "work-from-home" plan to her boss so she had to go in.

This afternoon, I call her to check in and she said she possibly opened up Pandora's Box because not much was happening and everybody's dying to know what's going on.

She said, "My phone will not stop ringing. I am the most popular person in the entire world!"

I said, "Enjoy it now, cuz when that baby pops out, YOU ARE NOTHING, SISTA! Nothing! For the rest of your life!"

I bet she's looking forward to motherhood!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So, that's the news on my sis in law, and that's why I've kind of been thinking about pregnancy, not that I want to have another child because I DON'T, but the possibility does still exist between Hubby and me, and neither of us is willing to do anything permanent other than abstinence at this point to prevent a family.

But, in thinking about my gestation days, it's amazing to think I was pregnant at least some part during five consecutive years: 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, and 2001; I was "in the family way" 27 or 28 months out of approximately 42 months. Wow.

I kept separate journals for each of my three kids, and thought I would maybe post some entries here, since there is currently not much excitement going on in my life at present, so here is an entry from when I was pregnant with Diva:

September 9, 1998, Wednesday:

Today is your daddy's 30th birthday baby! Last night Ajers woke up in the middle of the night so, of course, I got up to settle him. I could feel the blood rushing through my body working hard to make this baby. It was a pretty uncomfortable feeling as if I had just gone jogging. I felt out of breath and I felt literally my blood circulating through my body, thickening to meet the demands of this baby.

More - 5:50 p.m. --
An hour ago I went potty and when I wiped there was bright pink blood. I thought to myself, "Oh fuck, here we go." I was very nervous and called the doctor. Since that first bit of blood, I've gone to the bathroom four times and there's nothing else. I pray to God that I don't have a miscarriage. This baby is just as important and special as Ajers...Please God, no more blood. I don't have any cramping and I am praying that everything is okay. The doctor said 50 out of 100 pregnancies have some bleeding. Of those 50, 25 are miscarriages. I hope I'm not one of those. We know so many that had miscarriages for their second kid: K, T, L, J --I know there are more. Please God, let me have this baby...Please, please, please. I am going to go pee once more to check and then we're going to dinner for S's birthday I hope there's nothing bad, please God.

September 10--
I am losing you.

A Bear's Life Would Be Nice

Right now, I would take a Bear's life in a second. Throw me into a nice, dark cave and let me sleep until the middle of March. If I were a bear, I wouldn't even need my Woobie because I'd be so furry I'd be nice and warm. It would be quiet. It would be dark. I could sleep. I wouldn't have this damned sinus headache. I wouldn't be feeling so freaking fat because all bears are kind of plump anyway, and I'm sure that none of the other bears would look at me saying, "Wow, Manic-Bear sure could stand to lose a few."

I wouldn't feel guilty that I haven't exercised consistently all year long, and I wouldn't feel guilty that the three small things I wanted to accomplish every day aren't getting done (one load of laundry, treadmill, shower). I wouldn't have to be thinking about where I'm getting my next pizza because I don't think bears crave pizza, just fish or raccoons maybe.

I wouldn't have these stupid PMS symptoms or the onset of my period because ... well, I don't know why--I guess because I never thought of bears having their periods. But just in case, make me a boy bear.

I wouldn't have all these piles of unsorted laundry around my cave. I wouldn't have to clean the toilets, or Swiff the floor. I wouldn't have to go to the dentist today (although I think bear teeth are probably not as nice and white and clean as mine are).

I could just lie there, maybe next to my spouse bear and my three little cubbies and snuggle up with them in a nice, big ball of snoring fur, and sleep.

Yes, that sounds like a nice thing to do right now.

But I'm not a bear, and I am PMSing, and the house is a mess, and I need to go to the dentist and I need to stop craving a pizza and I need to get some work done, and I need to stop thinking about this book and agent thing until something happens. I have to do all of these things because, we all know, I am woman...
HEAR ME ROAR!

Quick Blog

Hey!

Well, the weekend took a turn and was far, far less boring that it had been on Friday when I posted about how bored I was. (Which BTW, I did get my pizza, even though it was Tony's frozen).

There's too much going on now to go into details but will fill you in later. It's some exciting stuff with my agent search -- I tell you, this is harder than writing a freaking 450-paged novel. But fun!

Also my essay, Sex and the Soccer Mom (It's All About the Need for Speed) was published in Mountain Parent's January issue, and it should be on their site for you to read soon. (I'll post the link when it's up.) It was a fun essay to write, and it got me out of sex a few nights too! ("Sorry honey, I can't 'snuggle' right now, I have to write this essay and tell the world about our sex life!")

I also had a dream that Sugar Mama called me on my cell phone and I had to tell her to call me back in 15 minutes because I was driving a car with no brakes and I had to get home. Then, I hung up with her and was screaming, "OH MY GOSH! A blog reader actually called me!" I was so excited in my dream. So, Sugar Mama, call me, we'll do coffee. Ah, better than that, we'll do grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattes!

And if you've never heard this little jingly song kids sing, please, allow me to share:

"I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves
everybody's nerves
everybody's nerves

I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves
and this is how it goes...

I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves
everybody's nerves
EVERYBODY'S NERVES....

and this is how it goes..."

So, hopefully, I've transferred this annoying song that's been playing a constant loop in my head over to some of you, not that I intend to annoy you any more than I already do, but I just wanted to share. How many of you have heard it sung by your grade school children?

More probably later this week. Happy MLK Day.

There's Nothing To Do.

I'm bored. I'm totally, pathetically bored right now. There's nothing to do. It's Friday night and Ajers and Tukey are in the basement playing GameCube. Diva is at a friends. Hubby got home from work early and he suggested some 'cuddling', but come on, I can't just be that quick to cuddle. It takes time.

Plus, it's not really officially the weekend.
Plus, I'm feeling fat and bloaty.
Plus, I haven't had any wine.
Plus, there are children in the house.

And I'm crabby. And whiny. And on the verge of being bitchy. I feel a fight coming on just to spruce things up around here.

I'm bored and crabby and all I am thinking about is a big, fat, large, yummy, extra-sauce cheese pizza. Oh, maybe add some garlic and spinach.

I think it's because I have been querying agents again. And getting practically nowhere. Some are biting, but no one has swallowed that damn hook yet so I can pull him out of the water, get rid of the hook, shake his hand and sign a freaking contract.

I have given myself a new goal. If, after my one-hundred-and-first rejection, there has not been the signing of an agent that I fall in love with and vice versa, then 40 Weeks goes into a drawer for however long it needs to sit there before I decide to do something else.

And then, I guess I'll just have to continue working on sucky manuscript No. 2.

I feel like a bratty kid right now waiting for someone to entertain me. To take me somewhere. To do something fun. I'd even settle for a family trip to Chuck E. Cheese right about now. Yes, it's annoying loud. Yes, Hubby refers to it as Kiddy Vegas. Yes, we don't have an extra hundred bucks to take the kids somewhere to toss money in flashing lighted machines.

But...

They do have pizza and beer.

Update to post: Okay, I had my pizza, even if it was Tony's frozen cheese. That made me happy. And then this made me smile and be happy too...

Tukey Talk
Sing-songy voice: "I have to tell you a secret!"

Me: "What?"

Tukey comes over to me, pulls me down to his lips, and whispers: "You are the best mom ever!"

I melt.

Then he goes on to say:
"And you're the best pancaker!" pause... "I mean waffle-er!"

Yep, I can whip up a mean cinnamon-chocolate-chip pancake, that's for dang sure.
So, happy non-manic-depressed mom is back for the time being.
Have a nice weekend, and fill it with lots of love, kisses, thank-you's, hugs, and happy conversations with those you love! That's what I plan to do!

xo

Tagged and... Dolcefied!

Okay, not only was I tagged by Dear Jane I have also been Dolcefied... as in Cinnamon Dolce Latte.

I had my first tallnonfatcinnamon(there'sthatwordIcan'tspellforshitagain)dolcelatteseasywhip today. Oh man. When someone said it's like drinking a Cinnabon, they ain't kidding. Yum! But, I am not falling back into that Starbucks abyss and will use restraint in the future, enjoying possibly just one or two a week, and never upsizing.

Anyway, here is the tag:

Four Jobs You've Had in Your Life:
1. Blow
2. Marketing Director
3. Blogger
4. Mother

Four Movies You Could Watch Over and Over:
1. Sixteen Candles
2. The Breakfast Club
3. Say Anything
4. Pretty In Pink
Yes, I'm from that era, sorry.

Four Places You've Lived:
1. In Sin
2. Tampa
3. Naperville
4. NIU

Four Websites You Visit Daily:
1. Snarkspot
2. Dating Dummy, although he ain't no dummy no more
3. Various Literary Agencies
4. The occasional smut one

Four TV Shows You Love To Watch:
Like Dear Jane, I gave up TV too in order to blog, but, I can tell you four shows I see snippets of daily, or almost daily:
1. Sports Themed Ones
2. That's So Raven
3. Jake and Drosh, oops, Drake and Josh--love that one!
4. Full House, unfortunately

Four of Your Favorite Foods:
1. Pizza
2. McDonald French Fries
3. Pasta
4. Diet Pepsi

Four Albums You Can't Live Without:
First of all, THEY ARE NOT CALLED ALBUMS ANY MORE!
Second of all, I suck at this tag because I don't have anything interesting to say--
So, I am changing THIS tag question to:
Four Albums You Couldn't Live Without when You were a Senior In High School Or Around That Time--
1. Howard Jones' Things Can Only Get Better Tape (yes, they were tapes back then)
2. Anything Phil Collins or Genesis or Peter Gabriel
3. The Outfield
4. Pretty In Pink Soundtrack
5. Violent Femmes and U2 (okay, so I cheated and added more)


Four Places You'd Rather Be:
1. In a NY Publisher's Office signing a two-book, six-figure deal (okay, I'll settle for five figures).
2. Starbucks
3. Beach / Vacation
4. Barnes & Nobles
See, I'm a simple chick, really.

And finally, per tradition,
Four People Who Are Now Obligated To Do This on Their Blog:
I've decided to choose four relatively new readers at my blog, in no particular order! Check out this foursome's foursomes:

1-- Swishy, who's got plenty to Blog about!
2-- WOD Man
3-- Paratrooper Nate Is that politically correct?
and for those of you who like cute babies, I'm tagging
4-- Crazy Mama D, but be warned, she likes to talk about poop and breast pumps!

Dumps

Back on the downslope of the roller coaster. Will be back posting later. Please keep delurking though - your comments are cheering me up.

And, keep praying for my friends. Waiting for news is sometimes the hardest part.

De-Lurk Yourself Baby!

Sounds kind of kinky, doesn't it?

Apparently, this is the first anniversary of De-Lurking Day (created by this Blogger Gal), which has now become De-Lurking Week, in which Bloggers ask their readers to simply leave a comment at the Blogs they read.

It doesn't have to be lengthy, you don't have to share any personal info, just say hi! Or you can tell me how much you hate my blog, or me, or my stupid rants about grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattesnowhipextrahot (BTW, didn't have one yet, folks, and yes, for those who commented, it is a money choice and just because I never drank coffee for 35 years so why did I get on the Starbucks bandwagon in the first place?) I'm trying to find my inner-caffeine-free self.

In other news, maybe this installment of Tukey Talk will get you to post a comment. The latest from the youngest of Manic Mom's brood had this to say:

"I did my first magic trick ever!"

"Really, honey, what was it?"

"I picked-ed my nose, and then I put-ted it in my ear. And then, it came out of my mouth!"

Go ahead, please. Leave a comment!
I'll leave this post at the top of my Blog for the whole week so check down below for more entries on magic boogers later this week.