The World's Most Annoying Question

I believe that I've found a winner - I'm serious! I actually think that there are several annoying questions that people ask on a regular basis, but this time I've found the mother of all annoying questions.

Before I do the "big reveal" of which question is the MOST annoying, let's do a countdown of sorts on those other questions that annoy me why don't we?

"Are you getting married today?" Yes, this is asked while you're running into Target/Wal-Mart/Insert-your-local-grocery-store-name-here after your hair appt with your veil in your hair. Or maybe if you run to Whataburger to grab a quick bite at lunch. I mean, really people? Really? Just once, I wished that I had told someone no, that this is just what I liked to wear on Saturdays while I do my grocery shopping. But I didn't. Too nice.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" This is asked AFTER you have your baby (since before you have it this questions is completely ok to ask as people can't see inside your belly). But after you have your baby, people really should take a minute and look for obvious clues before asking such a ridiculous question. Look at the clothes. Look at the pattern of the material on the stroller/car seat. Look to see if there are any blankets or toys that might give you a clue and keep you from embarassing yourself or pissing off the mother. Just because my daughter didn't have hair until she was 3 years old, she was OBVIOUSLY a GIRL people! She was always dressed in pink, purple, flowers or butterflies. Boys don't wear those things. I'm just saying.

"How many people in your party?" This annoying question is asked typically as you walk into a restaurant and greet the hostess to be seated. It makes sense to ask if the place is busy, or if several parties walk in at the same time. In those instances, I can understand that the hostess/seater might have a hard time telling how many people she/he needs to seat. But when I'm meeting my husband for an early dinner or a late lunch, the place isn't busy, or we're the only two people walking in the door. I mean, use your eyes lady! Yes, there are just two of us standing here in front of you waiting to be seated. I guess that we could be meeting other people, but that's rare. We like our own company. Just kidding. Just once I'd really like to reply back to her with a "No, there are three of us." And then just smile at her, not explain further and wiat to see what happens. But I've never done that. Once again, too nice.

So now that you have an idea on what other questions I feel are annoying, here's the #1 question that's annoying me right now: (drumroll please)

"How about having that baby today?" or "When are you going to have that baby?" or "You're still here?" (co-workers when they see me at my desk) or any of the other 5 million variations of this question that some people are sending me by text daily.

Let me explain. Just like my doctor can't accurately predict when this baby will be born (due dates ARE an estimate, people!) I have NO CONTROL over when this little one comes out of my body. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nothing. Are you noticing a pattern here? As much as I'd like to have some control over this process, and believe me I've done my fair share of talking to him, taking him cool places to urge him to come on out and see for himself, and other such activities, when it all comes down to it we're on HIS time table here.

And asking me each and every day when I'm going to get this show on the road or some other variation of that same question is really starting to annoy me.

Oops, I don't know what happened, but apparently I hit the Publish button - sorry!

Where was I? Oh yeah. Don't ask me that question anymore, please. Understand that I have no control over this process. And you texting me each and every day doesn't really do anything to speed up the process. It really doesn't. So either you don't trust me to call you when the time comes, so you feel compelled to check on me every single day, or you just enjoy reminding me several times a day that I haven't given birth yet. That I'm STILL pregnant.

Believe me when I say this: pregnant women, especially those past 37 weeks don't really need to be reminded that they're pregnant. We kind of can't forget. There's daily reminders, trust me.

So for now, to help me out, lose my text number. Please. Brent has made the suggestion that I should just not answer the texts anymore, but I don't really think that will help anything. I think that if I don't answer texts, then they'll think that there's a reason that I can't answer texts and they'll start calling. Worse than texts? Phone calls each and every day with those same questions. At least by text I can keep it short and sweet with a simple "Not yet."

Do you understand what I'm asking? Do you get that I still love you, even though I would like some peace and quiet for a few days, please? You do? Great! Thanks so much! Hugs and kisses!

The Day That I Nearly Killed an Old, Elderly Man

Well, I promised you this story the other day, so I figured that I'd better follow through. So here goes...

One day, when I was only 83 weeks pregnant (that's about 34-35 weeks for regular people) we decided to stop at one of our favorite sandwich shops in San Marcos, Alvin Ords. They have the BEST sandwiches...really. If you're in the area, and you haven't eaten there, you're missing out! Anyway, I get the same sandwich every time we go there, as does Brent. Not that him getting the same thing really matters to this story.

Anyway, Alvin Ord's is a college place. It's run by old hippies who smoked a lot of dope back in the day (and more than likely still do!) and most of the employees that work there are college kids. They're all sort of hippy-ish, if you know what I mean. I think that they all hug trees, care about the environment and the girls probably don't shave. Now, saying all of that, I have nothing wrong with the employees or those beliefs, I'm just trying to paint an accurate picture for you all.

There are also a few older employees. Like maybe they worked there when Alvin Ord's first opened many, many moons ago. Keep that in mind...

So, back to the story. I went up to the counter along with Brent and Tanner and we all placed our order. They ordered the Salvation - a yummy treat for their tummies, and I placed my order. I ordered a turkey sandwich on French, with no cheese. Not that hard, right? I mean, it's not like it comes with a bunch of things that I cut this and that and added the other...I just didn't want cheese on my sandwich.

We sat down and waited for our food. Shortly, since the service is so great, our food was delivered and it was hot and smelled so yummy. The boys immediately dug into their sandwiches and I proceeded to scrape a little of the extra lettuce off of my sandwich first. That's when I noticed the cheese. I mean, how hard is it to leave off the cheese when I specifically ordered it that way? It shouldn't have been too hard, since that was the only change that I had made to the sandwich. I calmly got up, took my sandwich back to the counter and waited my turn.

Was I going to ask them to re-make my sandwich? You better bet I was. I mean, all I wanted was NO CHEESE. Not that hard, and I wasn't even mad about it. Just 83 weeks pregnany and hungry, which thinking about it in those terms makes for a dangerous combination. There was a pretty good line at the counter, and the younger (read smarter looking) employee was busy, so he asked the older gentleman behind the counter if he could help me. I mean, I'm standing there holding an uneaten sandwich - there was obviously something wrong with my order.

Here's how our conversation went down:

Me: Yes sir, I asked for no cheese on my sandwich and it was made with cheese.
Old Man: just stares at me blankly, obviously not comprehending
Me: You see, I ordered a turkey sandwich on French with NO CHEESE...and there's cheese on this sandwich...
Old Man: But it IS French bread.
Me: Yes, I know that it's French bread. And that's fine. But it had cheese on it. I didn't want cheese, and I ordered it without cheese.
Old Man: So you want Wheat Bread? Not French.
Me: (at this point starting to get "testy" and lose my temper) No, sir. I wanted a turkey sandwich on FRENCH but with NO CHEESE. I would like for you to re-make the sandwich.
Old Man: But you still want the cheese, right?

It was at this point that I decided that it was safer for all involved for me to just walk away. You know, to take a step back. I gave him the death glare with evil ojos, which several other employees witnessed, and then I walked (or maybe stomped) back to our table and sat back down. Brent, who had witnessed the rising temperature to my temper was honestly worried for the safety of the old man. Our table wasn't actually close enough to the counter for him to have overheard the conversation, but he knew that it didn't go well. As I related the story back to him, he immiediately got up to take care of the situation.

Luckily, about that time what I can only assume was a supervisor or manager came over to the table to ask what the problem was. I literally had to let Brent do the talking because I was so mad. I know that I probably didn't have a reason to be that mad, but hormones take over your body at this point during your pregnancy and I was hungry. That's really the only excuse that I have. The younger guy was very nice, and understood the problem and went off to re-make my sandwich...correctly this time.

Was I worried about the old man spitting in my food? Yeah, a little bit. But the good news is that we had a clear shot of where they prepare the food and Brent watched them like a hawk on my behalf. Me? I just sat there and ate the rest of my Fritos while I waited. Lucky for them I didn't have to wait for long. My sandwich came out hot and fresh...and right...and oh, so yummy.

After the demons inside me had settled and my hunger was abated, I was slightly embarrassed about the way that I had acted. Brent assured me that I hadn't overreacted or caused a scene in any way, but I still felt bad that I nearly took off the head of an innocent, if somewhat hardof-hearing, older man. I was raised to respect the elderly, even when they can't hear you. But oh well. Brent went up to get a refill on his soda before we left, and the younger guy was up at the counter again and asked if everything had worked out right the second time. Brent sort of apologized for me and told the guy that it was really the best thing for me to just walk away from the old man, being 35 weeks pregnant at the time. The young guy laughed and said not to worry about it, and gave us the impression that things like this happened all the time with that old man.

What's the moral to this story? Well, it could be twofold. #1 - when you're 35 weeks pregnant (or more than 35 weeks along) you don't always have control of your emotions. You WILL go off on perfect strangers for the craziest of things, if not your own loved ons. It's a fact of life. Accept it, embrace it, and deal with it. You're not the first one to do it, and you probably won't be the last either. #2 - you CAN control your emotions, to an extent. You can choose to walk away. Instead of tearing a stranger's head off. You DO have options. LOL!

Have you had a meltdown on a total stranger yet? Or do you know someone that did? I'd LOVE to hear that I'm not the only one...

Why Didn’t Anyone Warn Me About the Hormones???

This is what MUST go through my husband’s head sometimes...really and truly. He’s been great, he tells me all the time that I’m not that hormonal and other than a few times have been acting totally normal and not crazy-hormonal-pregnant all the time. I think that he’s forgetting about this incident. Or the weekend of my baby shower, which yes, I still need to post about. Or the time that I almost assaulted the old guy in Alvin Ord’s in San Marcos…oh wait, I haven’t shared that story yet. Well, that’s a story for ANOTHER day, I promise!

Yeah, and if you believe that I’ll remember to post that one later, you must be smoking crack too! I mean, did I mention that I still haven’t posted about my awesome shower that was two weekends ago? Yeah…keep holding your breath.

Anyway. Back to my post about hormones. No one tells you how bad it is or how irrational you’re being. Well, strangers might tell you, because they can always run away. But your friends and family and especially those that have to live in the same household with you don’t really like to talk about it. It’s like that dark, family secret that great-Aunt Bertha doesn’t talk about, you know? They lie to your face and tell you that you haven’t been that bad, when you know that they’re lying to your face because they have to live with you, and you probably prepare some or most of their meals so their scared that they might get spit in their food if they speak ill of you. It could happen. Especially when you’re 37 weeks pregnant.

And you love hearing the lie. Even knowing it’s a lie, it makes me feel better to hear it. They’re only lying out of love for me, right? Let’s hope so. And he must love me lots…because I’m 100% hormonal right now. I could cry at the drop of a hat and not know why. And that’s a for real not know why, not the whole I’m telling you that I don’t know why I’m crying when I really do know and I’m too pissed off at you because you don’t know why I’m crying to tell you why I’m crying. Did you follow that? It made sense to me!

If it’s not tears that are afflicting me, it’s the darn heat. No, not the heat OUTSIDE – I mean, I know that I live in Central Texas and July is usually spent with days reaching into the 100’s each and every day. No, I’m talking about the heat that is roasting my body from the inside out. I’m literally H-O-T all the time. All. The. Time. As in, my husband obviously thinks that we own a portion of the electric company (which it turns out that it’s a Co-op so we kinda do!) and he likes to keep the house at a chilly 70 degrees year round. And since installing the tile in the whole downstairs of our house that makes for a CHILLY downstairs. And I love it right now. On any normal-not-pregnant-day you would find me wrapped up in a throw or quilt trying to stay warm and sneaking up the stairs to turn the thermostat up “just a little bit” without him catching me. These days? You’re lucky to find me fully clothed during the middle of the day, let alone not laying on the tile floor just to transfer the coolness to my body.

And another weird hormonal thing that MUST be related, I cannot drink enough water to quench my thirst. I figure that it’s related to those hormones that are making my temperature gauge all freaky right now too, since I figure that the water is cooling me off from the inside out, while the A/C helps cool off my outsides. I seriously consume at least 10-12 glasses of water each day. And three of those are drunk between the hours of midnight and 4 am, which does lead to more peeing. But I’m up in the middle of the night peeing whether I drink the water or not, so I might as well try to make myself nice and hydrated. And it has to be water. Not vanilla cokes from Sonic – although they still taste divine, they do NOTHING to quench the thirst. Kool-Aid is a close second to water, or sweet tea, but there are times that I can’t even do those – it HAS to be water.

And this is all BEFORE I give birth. From what I remember, it gets WAY WORSE after the birth process is over and you’re back at home. I remember friends coming over to bring us dinner or to visit and finding me all curled up in a little ball crying my eyes out while my baby was snuggled up nice and tight in my arms. I remember it being MUCH worse afterwards. But shhhh…that’s my little secret. I haven’t told that to Brent or the kids yet. I figure it’s just better experienced without forewarning. Or maybe I can pull it off that I “didn’t know” that it was going to be that way afterwards? Probably not, I’m a horrible liar. But I can still try!

Anyway, I guess it’s true what they say about another person controlling your thoughts, body and actions when you’re pregnant and the period immediately following giving birth. There are times that you don’t know why you do what you do, why you eat what you’re eating and so on. There are moments that you’ll be so aggravating to be around, or maybe I should phrase that to say you’ll be so aggrevated to be around anyone else, that you just won’t know what to do. And then there are times that your limits of self-restraint and control will amaze even you. And it’s those times that I try to keep in the fore-front of my mind…and my husband’s. A little positive reinforcement never hurt, right? LOL!

**And just in case you’re wondering – none of the above counts as me complaining or whining. I’m still holding to my pledge to minimize the complaints, and the above post was written purely for educational purposes…not to vent or complain!

Discomfort May Serve a Purpose...

Last night, the coolest thing happened. I was just out of my nightly bubble bath (yes, I take those!) and Ziggy was doing his moving and shaking thing…and I was really, really uncomfortable. I got into bed and laid on my back, settling in to watch some TV before going to sleep…hoping against all odds that Ziggy would find a better “spot” and grant me some relief. (He’s been really in weird spots the last few nights and it’s almost been hard to sit in a chair and breathe correctly or something.)

Anyway, I reached down to rub my Budda belly and I felt something hard. Certain that I was mistaken, I moved my hand over a couple of inches to the left (back towards the middle of my belly) and sure enough, nothing but squishiness. Intrigued now, I moved my hand back over to the right and there was a hard shape there just below the surface of my belly.

Yes, in reality I know that it’s not right below my belly, but you know what I mean, right?

It was a body part. A little baby boy body part. I was convinced at first that it was his head, since there was movement going on further down after I poked around on his head for a while…but then later I decided that maybe it was his little rump that I was feeling. I’m really not sure, but I was able to follow his body along my belly laying diagonal.

If I’m right and it was his head that was lower, then maybe the discomfort that I’ve been experiencing especially bad the last few days has been him turning. I think that babycenter.com or The Bump indicated in the weekly updates that they send out that it was around now when the baby would start to turn and stay in a downward pointing position…which still seems early if you ask me. I mean, I’m only 28 weeks…that’s 12 more weeks to go upside-down, but whatever. I’m not the expert. And I could be wrong, but that sort of makes sense to me.
I called out to B and he came over and was immediately like “Whoa! What’s that?!?” It was neat to experience more than just bumps and kicks…even though those are still amazing too!

If you’re currently pregnant or have been pregnant in the past, could you distinguish body parts? I don’t remember being able to do that really well with my daughter…but maybe I’m just getting old and can’t remember! I’d be interested to see if others can tell the difference between a rump and a head…I’m not sure that I’m very clear at all!

Funny Thoughts...

Maybe these won’t be funny to you...but I nearly peed my pants when I heard these words...

“Your schedule (life) doesn’t revolve around a baby – the baby’s schedule (life) revolves around you...”

“You know, you don’t have to hold the baby ALL the time...”

And the best one in the conversation...

“Well, I was a good baby. So this baby isn’t going to be like that.”

If you haven’t guessed yet, all of these comments were directed towards me by my husband. Yes, the man of my dreams and love of my life. Who I wanted to hit over the head at that particular moment. LOL!

You see, we’ve been having (or I’ve been trying to have) several conversations about what things are going to be like after the baby gets here. What changes to expect, things that we used to be able to do and won’t be able to do anymore...you get the general idea, right? I’m not trying to scare him in any way, just to prepare him. Yes, he has a 12 year-old son. But he didn’t know about his son until after the first year was over...and even then he was already signed up for the Marines, so he was off fighting in wars and living a completely un-related life while his son was going through the “young years.” So this is his first baby experience. And I’m trying to prepare him gently for the changes that are fast approaching our life...

And please let me apologize to any readers out there without children yet who think that these are perfectly NORMAL statements...because they are. Totally acceptable and normal. Except that they don’t apply to people who actually HAVE children. They don’t really apply to anyone with a person who is less than 12 months old living in their household currently.

These are things that you THINK before you actually have a child. Yes, you can comprehend that things will change. You do understand that cabinets will need to be locked, and things placed out of reach. You understand that you can't go out partying all night long because you would have to find a sitter, or because you'd have to care for the baby the next day while hungover.

But do you think about the fact that everything gets 10 times harder than it used to be? Yes, you can still go to dinner with your friends. You don't have to stay at the house all the time. And yes, you can still go shopping, you'll just have to take the baby along with you. But what you don't realize is that keeping a "normal" life and activities takes ALOT more energy than it used to take. You can't comprehend the amount of work that small activities will now take to complete.

For example, you can no longer “run” out real quick for a gallon of milk at the store – it now takes 30 minutes to get the baby ready to leave the house, another 15 minutes to load up the car, 10 more minutes to change the baby because he/she peed/pooped/spit up on the outfit that was totally fine 5 minutes ago, then the normal drive to the store, 10 minutes to figure out how to either a) get the car seat out of the car or b) get the car seat into the shopping cart and then another 3 minutes to figure out how to “drive” the shopping cart now that you can no longer see over the top of it...repeat the process to get back to the house. And then factor in the fact that all of this MIGHT be done with a screaming baby in tow. You'll be lucky if he/she falls asleep in the car ride to the store and stays that way through the whole trip...

And don’t even get me started on losing your sense of privacy...there is no more going to the bathroom by yourself. No long soaks in the tub. No more reading in bed at night...not to mention anything else that you might do in bed at night because you can no longer keep your eyes open long enough to consider doing said thing, much less having the energy that it would take to get ready for said event or the actual doing of said event.

Do you see where I’m going with this? There are just some things in life that you CANNOT fathom until you experience them. Yes, most of these things I could understand on some level would change for me once I had a child, but until my daughter actually came along, I had NO CLUE. Not a freaking idea of what to expect. No books helped. No advice from family and friends really made sense. Because you can’t comprehend the change that is coming your way. There’s just no way.

Having a baby around is hard work. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Yes, there are some babies that are easier to take care of than others, but all babies have their moments. And all parents have a hard time coping with these changes every once in a while. You adapt, you adjust, and yes, life goes on. But it’s drastically different than the life that you knew before.

So instead of continuing a conversation that I have NO HOPE of ever getting through his head...not that he’s incapable of getting it, just that I see now the futility of my argument, I’ve decided to take a new approach.

What to hear what it is?

I’m taking bets.

Yep, you read that right. I’m actually just telling him to talk to me about that statement in 6 months...or saying that I’ll bet him $20 that he retracts that statement within the first 30 days...you get the idea.

It’s a lot more fun than banging my head up against the wall...

WAY too funny...

This is a true story, I promise.

Yesterday, our HR guy stopped by my office to chat for a minute and in the middle of a random conversation about something else entirely – like fresh coffee in the break room (which I don’t/can’t drink) he casually mentions that I’ve been pulled for a random.

As in a random drug testing per our company policy.

For a five and a half month pregnant woman? REALLY?!?!

Maybe you’re not rolling on the floor laughing...maybe you are...if you are, then you have me for company. I laughed and said ok when do I need to go.

The response? Within the hour. And I was escorted. (Or followed there to be more specific...) I understand that it’s just company policy to escort/follow the employee to the lab and all, but the whole situation just struck me as hilarious.

Now, as I type this I do realize that not everyone makes the decision to stay drug/alcohol free during the course of their pregnancies...I really do understand that.

And I also understand that our random screenings are computer generated by an outsourced company who does NOT know and could not possibly know that I’m pregnant. But you would think that at some point along this journey someone would question it.

Turns out the lab tech did. She looked at me. Then looked at my small pregnant belly...and raised her eyebrows. No words were said between us, but I gave her a smile that said “Whatever.” Then when she asked if I was ready to go to the bathroom, we had a good laugh about a pregnant woman always being ready to pee...

It did help that she was also pregnant...due any day now from the looks of her. She just chuckled through the paperwork and did her job. Just like I did mine.

I just thought that it was INSANELY funny to send a pregnant lady in for a random drug screening...

Wanna Know Something?

The other day I was reading my babycenter.com update online since for whatever reason the weekly email didn’t reach me like normal and I read that it’s a great time to start talking to your baby. That it helps build the bond growing between mother and child.

Huh. I didn’t know to start this early...in actuality, I’ve been talking to my “bump” for several weeks now. Ever since I knew that I was pregnant actually, so up to now it’s just been wasted breath.

Is that kind of like talking to your husband when the game is on the tv? Those are wasted words too...I’m just saying.

Anyway, back to the point. So I read that yesterday, or the day before, whatever. And this morning, while driving to work and singing along with the radio at the top of my lungs (like normal) I happened to glance at the car next to me in traffic. The guy is staring at me. Like I have two heads or something. I’m guessing that either my facial expressions gave it away that I was singing along, or we were tuned in to the same radio station and he was getting a good chuckle.

I’ve been this way my whole life, it’s nothing new. Singing in the car while I drive is as natural to me as breathing is. I just do it, there’s no conscious effort happening on my part. Which means that I sing in the car at times when maybe I shouldn’t be quite SO obvious about it...like when you’re stuck in the morning commute to work.

But like a bolt of lightning out of the sky, it hits me. I’m no longer just singing to myself...I’m “talking” with my baby. Building the bond between us. So you know what Mr. McStares-a-lot in the next car over? Get a good look. Laugh real hard.

I will no longer feel like an idiot when I get caught singing along to my radio.

I’m bonding with my unborn child. I’m being a good mother. Deal with it.

Of course, I probably still LOOK like an idiot...LOL!