Okay, not right now I'm not gross because I actually got up and took a shower this morning. Usually I shower at night with Em (because we're too lazy to give her a bath and she thinks the shower is her own personal splash pad...win/win!), but yesterday I did not shower. We stayed home in our jammies all day as I started to pack and declutter and I didn't even realize until 4:30pm that we hadn't brushed our teeth. I know, right! Gross. But it's not like we actually talked to anyone yesterday except each other and we did brush our teeth as soon as I realized it.
But last night I was tired. My back hurt. Waa, waa, waa. Who cares. Paul is a good actor and told me I was sexy, but I see myself in the mirror. I know the truth. I keep telling him AFTER this baby is born we are bringing sexy back. This may include buying new undies because seriously the underwear I wore to bed last night had a hole in them. That's what you get when you buy a 50 pack of underwear at Costco I guess. Plus this is their second pregnancy and that's got to put an obscene amount of stress on some cheap underwear. Anyone work at a department store and want to hook me up with some Hanky Panky thongs. They are seriously comfortable. I mean not now when my ass is the size of Emma (I really need to stop eating donuts), but during normal times.
The point I'm trying to make though is that I look at my friends or the wives of my male friends and notice that they post pictures of themselves with their hair all did and make up and, after I get finished hating them just a tiny bit, I think when the hell do they have the time and energy to do all this. Don't even get me started on their cute outfits. (remember the holy underwear situation going on at my house). Make up I can handle because I use Bare Minerals and it takes me less than 5 minutes to do my make up, but I have a LOT of hair. It would take me an hour to straighten it. What do you do with your kids during that time? I'm sure Emma would LOVE to help mommy do her hair, but I'm not sure mommy would love that. Maybe I can teach Emma to straighten my hair. We're already working on hair brushing. Of course it doesn't help that when I'm pregnant I could use the oil from my hair to cook our dinner every night. Gag. So much oil.
So, I want to hear from my mamas. What is your hair and make up routine? Where do you buy your clothes? How do you straighten your hair? I need to get in the habit of making more of an effort with my appearance before Emma is old enough to realize that her mom is a slacker.
PS Genevieve on Choo Choo Soul is singing a dirty song about her steam shooting out, her whistle blowing, and her wheels beginning to roll in a sexy slow voice. Choo Choo Soul disturbs me so much. I'm pretty sure Genevieve and that weird, overly enthusiastic DJ get it on.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
I'm Sexy and I Know It
As I was driving to Walmart today I passed a woman jogging. In the snow. As in it was actively snowing and she wasn't even out of breath. And she looked like this
Except she had a long sleeve shirt on and her hair looked like she had just curled the ends of it like you might do in the morning before work (and in my case it would look awesome for all about the 30 minutes it took me to do it and then would look awful by the time I got to work). And it was sexily blowing in the breeze like she was a supermodel doing a shoot with a fan blowing at her. Considering I wouldn't run in this weather (this weather...who am I kidding...I wouldn't run if it was 74 and sunny) if someone was chasing me with a machete I was pretty impressed.
I was even more impressed that she looked like she had just done her hair and make up especially considering that this is what I looked like when we met Paul for lunch today (and when we went to Walmart, but everyone looks bad at Walmart so it's all good)
It doesn't matter which one you're looking at. I pretty much looked like all of them. I couldn't even remember if I had brushed my hair today, but if I had to guess I'd go with no. I'm pretty sure I brushed my teeth. I hadn't showered, and I may or may not have had clean underwear on. I was up every 90 minutes last night either from having to pee, trying to breathe (yay congestion), or because my throat hurt so don't judge me.
Emma has this this ear muff head band that is red on one side and blue on the other (it was free from Gymboree when we got her Santa pics done) and I have a bright pink one. To say Emma loves these headbands would be an understatement.
I was even more impressed that she looked like she had just done her hair and make up especially considering that this is what I looked like when we met Paul for lunch today (and when we went to Walmart, but everyone looks bad at Walmart so it's all good)
It doesn't matter which one you're looking at. I pretty much looked like all of them. I couldn't even remember if I had brushed my hair today, but if I had to guess I'd go with no. I'm pretty sure I brushed my teeth. I hadn't showered, and I may or may not have had clean underwear on. I was up every 90 minutes last night either from having to pee, trying to breathe (yay congestion), or because my throat hurt so don't judge me.
Emma has this this ear muff head band that is red on one side and blue on the other (it was free from Gymboree when we got her Santa pics done) and I have a bright pink one. To say Emma loves these headbands would be an understatement.
Em insists that we wear them together. Everyday. This usually consists of me sitting on the couch as she tries to strangle me with it. Today she insisted we wear them out of the house. To go with my blue top, blue jeans, khaki uggs, and green button up sweater because I was too lazy to find something else. I was able to take off the pink headband in the car; however, when we got to lunch and Daddy had his hat on, Emma wanted to wear her headband, and Mommy was forced to wear her hot pink headband. Paul, in fact, commented on how fantastic my outfit was and how NOTHING I had on matched except my shirt and jeans which completely matched.
Me: My animal print pants are out of control.
Paul: Every officer has a trophy wife. You're mine.
Me: I'm sexy and I know it.
Don't hate me because I'm hot.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Is Doc McStuffins really schizophrenic?
I was watching the 500th episode of Doc McStuffins this morning with Emma and I started to wonder about the state of Doc McStuffin's mental health. First off, has anyone noticed how arrogant she is? She's always all "I'm the best toy doctor ever." Major delusion there! Okay, girl, you use a glue stick on 90% of your "patients" and you don't even give them diagnoses that make sense. Your big book of booboos is a big book of fraud.
Let's get back to the schizophrenia though.
In the episode we watched earlier there was a possum that had 3 babies that stuck to its back and one of the babies fell off and went missing. Doc immediately dispatched a search party.
A) Doc is the only one who can see and hear her toys talking. I assume she believes other people can as well since she tells them to go stuffed if someone is coming, but no one ever catches these talking, moving toys. (hallucinations & paranoia)
B) She spends a lot of time alone with her talking toys. (social isolation)
C) The missing baby possum was found in the living room dangling from a lamp. If the toys can only move when she touches her magic stethoscope, how did the possum get into the living room while Doc was sleeping? She must've been the one to put him there, blacked it out, and then didn't remember doing it when she woke up.
D) She never changes her clothes. Ever. (sloppiness of dress)
I think we can safely say that Doc has some mental health issues. You'd think her mom, being a real doctor, would catch on to that instead of just encouraging her craziness. Poor Doc. Maybe she should visit American Horror Story: Asylum.
Let's get back to the schizophrenia though.
In the episode we watched earlier there was a possum that had 3 babies that stuck to its back and one of the babies fell off and went missing. Doc immediately dispatched a search party.
A) Doc is the only one who can see and hear her toys talking. I assume she believes other people can as well since she tells them to go stuffed if someone is coming, but no one ever catches these talking, moving toys. (hallucinations & paranoia)
B) She spends a lot of time alone with her talking toys. (social isolation)
C) The missing baby possum was found in the living room dangling from a lamp. If the toys can only move when she touches her magic stethoscope, how did the possum get into the living room while Doc was sleeping? She must've been the one to put him there, blacked it out, and then didn't remember doing it when she woke up.
D) She never changes her clothes. Ever. (sloppiness of dress)
I think we can safely say that Doc has some mental health issues. You'd think her mom, being a real doctor, would catch on to that instead of just encouraging her craziness. Poor Doc. Maybe she should visit American Horror Story: Asylum.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Emma's New Fish
Yesterday we decided it would be fun to take Emma to Petsmart to pick out new dog collars for our pack. Clearly we have a warped definition of fun, but Emma's young. She doesn't know yet that her parents are old and boring. We let her pick out the dog tags, we let her look at all the animals. Why pay money to go to the zoo when Petsmart is free?
Paul has been talking about wanting to get Emma a Mickey Mouse fish and being at Petsmart only fueled his fire. He spent 20 minutes talking to the fish department gal while I made dog tags. Joy.
Over lunch we talked about it a little more. Paul, of course, wants a tank with a light and a filter. Keep in mind we are getting ready to have another child and are moving this summer. We agreed though that getting Emma 2 female beta fish and an algae eater would be okay. In a glass bowl. When we move we can set her up with a real tank in her room.
Back we went to Petsmart. I found a half moon tank with a light that I thought would work well in our living room. We really wanted the tank in her bedroom, but we have a 2 story house and are rarely upstairs. What good are fish you can never see?
We let Emma pick out the fish, the rocks, 2 figurines, and a fake plant. She chose a princess in a blue dress, a starfish on a rock, and a blue fake plant with sea glass colored rocks (clearly she has way better taste than Paul or I thank goodness). She picked out a dark red beta and a green beta.
She slept for 15 minutes in the car, went right to sleep when we got home, woke up because she pooped, and that was her nap for the day. Stupid poop!
Bring on the fish! Yay something else that we have to feed and clean up after in our house.
Putting rocks in her tank.
Trying to knock over the tank.
Hi fish!
Paul has been talking about wanting to get Emma a Mickey Mouse fish and being at Petsmart only fueled his fire. He spent 20 minutes talking to the fish department gal while I made dog tags. Joy.
Over lunch we talked about it a little more. Paul, of course, wants a tank with a light and a filter. Keep in mind we are getting ready to have another child and are moving this summer. We agreed though that getting Emma 2 female beta fish and an algae eater would be okay. In a glass bowl. When we move we can set her up with a real tank in her room.
Back we went to Petsmart. I found a half moon tank with a light that I thought would work well in our living room. We really wanted the tank in her bedroom, but we have a 2 story house and are rarely upstairs. What good are fish you can never see?
We let Emma pick out the fish, the rocks, 2 figurines, and a fake plant. She chose a princess in a blue dress, a starfish on a rock, and a blue fake plant with sea glass colored rocks (clearly she has way better taste than Paul or I thank goodness). She picked out a dark red beta and a green beta.
She slept for 15 minutes in the car, went right to sleep when we got home, woke up because she pooped, and that was her nap for the day. Stupid poop!
Bring on the fish! Yay something else that we have to feed and clean up after in our house.
Hi fish!
The finished product
I did tell Paul that this was all his and Emma's project. He's responsible for making sure the fish are fed and the water cleaned. The fish department gal told Paul how easily we can transport them to our new home. haha I give those poor fish a month before they are belly up.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Discovery Toys Party!!!
I'm having a party and y'all are invited! I'm an Educational Consultant for Discovery Toys and I decided it was the perfect time to celebrate our Winter Wonderland Sale now through February 11th. I'm also looking to grow my team so if you've been looking to earn extra money, have fun, and work from home join my team now for just $99! And if you can't join in January then you still have all of February to join...the Join for Less promotion is going on until February 28th!
I love staying home with my daughter, but I also love meeting new people. When we ran across a Discovery Toys booth at a recent event and I saw how much my daughter loved playing with the toys I was sold. I knew that providing others with these amazing, educational, fun toys was something I needed to do! Discovery Toys offers the most outstanding developmental products for families - products of the highest quality with extraordinary value.
I truly believe that play is a child's work...children play to learn, to grow, and to experience the world around them. Through a high level of open-ended play, Discovery Toys products encourage a child's positive growth and development. Learning + Play = Fun!
For me, Discovery Toys provides a meaningful business opportunity and the best of both worlds. I get to continue to stay home while earning an income to help support my family. What could be better than that?
Like Jenn's Discovery Toys on Facebook and order at Jenn's Online Sales Celebration! Don't miss out on this great sale!
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Mapquest Fail
I heart my iPhone (although I think the Galaxy S3 is pretty cool if you had a bunch of friends that also had it and mostly because of that commercial where the wife sends her husband a naughty video not to watch on the plane). And I use my iPhone as my GPS, but there are times when I am pretty sure someone over at mapquest was smoking a fatty when they uploaded directions into my phone.
I knew today would be a snowy, crappy, stay at home in my jammies kind of day (thank you stay at home mommyhood--seriously I barely brushed my teeth and haven't showered yet or changed and once I do shower and change it is only going to be into a fresh pair of jammies) so Stinks and I decided to take a little trip to Wegmans to do some grocery shopping yesterday. And by trip I mean 45 minutes in the car to go to a grocery store (have I mentioned that I miss Publix?)
We left a little bit later than I wanted to, but after a quick drive through at DD (that's Dunkin Donuts for all you southerners) we hit the highway. From previous trips I remembered that it was a pretty straight shot off the interstate; however, mapquest had other plans for us yesterday. I couldn't remember the exit so I trusted mapquest when it directed me to exit the interstate.
I quickly realized that these directions were different from last time as we traveled through towns I had never seen before. I gamely plowed ahead, trusting mapquest to get me where I needed to go which mapquest apparently thought was up a small mountain and into the middle of a residential neighborhood NOWHERE NEAR WEGMANS! Um, what? I have arrived. Really mapquest? All I see are 2 story homes and I can only either go up or down this stupid hill. I see no Wegmans, no Charming Charlie, no Kohl's, no Starbucks (all things I knew were in the same shopping center as Wegmans). Sigh. So I retype in the address and it still thinks I'm at the right place! Mapquest fail!
I type in the address into google maps and I am 3 miles away from Wegmans. Really mapquest? 3 miles. Usually you're better than that. I start driving, assume I am headed in the right direction, and eventually stumble across the shopping plaza. Stinks and I enjoy a delicious lunch in their food court and get a ton of grocery shopping done (sadly the Wegmans they are building near us is not slated to open until 2014...we're leaving this summer) and head home (with a Starbucks drive thru of course on the way). And I didn't listen to mapquest (which wanted me to go some totally random way) and instead followed the signs to Boston (to turns later and I was back on the interstate).
Thanks mapquest though for that tour of random towns in Mass. Much appreciated!
PS I've showered and changed into clean jammies. Granted it was a quick shower as Stinks was not having it and screamed the whole time we were in the shower. Super relaxing it was not. But at least we are clean.
I knew today would be a snowy, crappy, stay at home in my jammies kind of day (thank you stay at home mommyhood--seriously I barely brushed my teeth and haven't showered yet or changed and once I do shower and change it is only going to be into a fresh pair of jammies) so Stinks and I decided to take a little trip to Wegmans to do some grocery shopping yesterday. And by trip I mean 45 minutes in the car to go to a grocery store (have I mentioned that I miss Publix?)
We left a little bit later than I wanted to, but after a quick drive through at DD (that's Dunkin Donuts for all you southerners) we hit the highway. From previous trips I remembered that it was a pretty straight shot off the interstate; however, mapquest had other plans for us yesterday. I couldn't remember the exit so I trusted mapquest when it directed me to exit the interstate.
I quickly realized that these directions were different from last time as we traveled through towns I had never seen before. I gamely plowed ahead, trusting mapquest to get me where I needed to go which mapquest apparently thought was up a small mountain and into the middle of a residential neighborhood NOWHERE NEAR WEGMANS! Um, what? I have arrived. Really mapquest? All I see are 2 story homes and I can only either go up or down this stupid hill. I see no Wegmans, no Charming Charlie, no Kohl's, no Starbucks (all things I knew were in the same shopping center as Wegmans). Sigh. So I retype in the address and it still thinks I'm at the right place! Mapquest fail!
I type in the address into google maps and I am 3 miles away from Wegmans. Really mapquest? 3 miles. Usually you're better than that. I start driving, assume I am headed in the right direction, and eventually stumble across the shopping plaza. Stinks and I enjoy a delicious lunch in their food court and get a ton of grocery shopping done (sadly the Wegmans they are building near us is not slated to open until 2014...we're leaving this summer) and head home (with a Starbucks drive thru of course on the way). And I didn't listen to mapquest (which wanted me to go some totally random way) and instead followed the signs to Boston (to turns later and I was back on the interstate).
Thanks mapquest though for that tour of random towns in Mass. Much appreciated!
PS I've showered and changed into clean jammies. Granted it was a quick shower as Stinks was not having it and screamed the whole time we were in the shower. Super relaxing it was not. But at least we are clean.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Ahhh Boobies...the new purse
I'm not gonna lie. I miss my pre baby boobies. Before I got married and had kids I had great boobs. I don't like to brag, but they may have been referred to as "porn star perfect" and they were all natural, God given. They are still all natural, but now they look like 2 pieces of chicken cutlets flattened with a meat cleaver and stapled to my chest.
Of course now I have pregnancy boobies and my body has reached the point where my giant stomach and giant boobs have become one entity. In light of these events I've decided there's no longer any need for me to carry a purse or diaper bag. I am just going to tuck my wallet and phone under the left boob and a diaper and some wipes under the right boob. I feel fairly confident that this is a full proof plan and perhaps may only become slightly awkward when I reach down my shirt to pay the cashier at Walmart. However, since I nursed Stinks for almost a year, and gave up using a cover when she was a few months old, as well as have had 2 cervical surgeries, and the longest failed labor ever any modesty I had was gone long ago. Plus allowing the workers at Walmart a peak at Mount McArtor will count as my good deed for the day.
If anyone wants to know how they too can acquire this fabulous accessory all you have to do is either be a teenager thinking about having sex OR be over 30 and spend countless months tracking your periods and ovulation cycles, having sex only during said ovulation cycle, endure a couple miscarriages, until you finally get pregnant. Super easy.
Of course now I have pregnancy boobies and my body has reached the point where my giant stomach and giant boobs have become one entity. In light of these events I've decided there's no longer any need for me to carry a purse or diaper bag. I am just going to tuck my wallet and phone under the left boob and a diaper and some wipes under the right boob. I feel fairly confident that this is a full proof plan and perhaps may only become slightly awkward when I reach down my shirt to pay the cashier at Walmart. However, since I nursed Stinks for almost a year, and gave up using a cover when she was a few months old, as well as have had 2 cervical surgeries, and the longest failed labor ever any modesty I had was gone long ago. Plus allowing the workers at Walmart a peak at Mount McArtor will count as my good deed for the day.
If anyone wants to know how they too can acquire this fabulous accessory all you have to do is either be a teenager thinking about having sex OR be over 30 and spend countless months tracking your periods and ovulation cycles, having sex only during said ovulation cycle, endure a couple miscarriages, until you finally get pregnant. Super easy.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
22 Weeks
This time during my last pregnancy I had been on bedrest for 2 weeks. Today we went to the Olive Garden for lunch (thanks Emily B. for putting that thought into my head) and then went to Costco where I actually WALKED AROUND (last time at the end of my pregnancy we went to Costco and I had to ride one of the scooters. Do you know how hard it is to get close to the people handing out free samples in a scooter? ).
During my pregnancy with Emma being on bedrest allowed me to obsess over every little thing going on with my pregnancy. I spent hours upon hours on babycenter.com posting and commenting in my birth club. This pregnancy I've hardly been on there at all and only on my phone. Although I will say I've made my fair share of phone calls to the ob during the first trimester I think my history of miscarriage allows me that. And thank God I have the BEST ob. Her staff is so patient and so nice.
I love, love, love not being on bedrest. Although during my first pregnancy it was nice to lie around and be lazy and sleep lots which is something I definitely am not getting with this pregnancy. I do tend to rest during Em's afternoon instead of doing anything productive, but sweet peanuts I am exhausted. I'm considered a geriatric patient according to my husband.
I am impatiently awaiting on my husband to decide on a baby name. In the meantime Emma considers to astound us with her genius and good manners. At lunch today an older couple sitting behind us stopped at our table on their way out to compliment us on how well behaved Emma was during lunch. Although she did have one little meltdown over not getting her way we do not allow her to have a fit in the restaurant (Paul took her outside to calm down). At home when she's finished eating she says "Excuse me please" to get out of her high chair. She says "bless you" when someone sneezes and knows how to say please and thank you. She also runs like Phoebe in Friends. Hilarious! I could brag on how awesome she is all night long, but I know that every parent thinks their kid is awesome so I'll spare you. Plus I need a snack.
I don't know how I can eat dinner and be hungry an hour later. Sweet peanuts!
During my pregnancy with Emma being on bedrest allowed me to obsess over every little thing going on with my pregnancy. I spent hours upon hours on babycenter.com posting and commenting in my birth club. This pregnancy I've hardly been on there at all and only on my phone. Although I will say I've made my fair share of phone calls to the ob during the first trimester I think my history of miscarriage allows me that. And thank God I have the BEST ob. Her staff is so patient and so nice.
I love, love, love not being on bedrest. Although during my first pregnancy it was nice to lie around and be lazy and sleep lots which is something I definitely am not getting with this pregnancy. I do tend to rest during Em's afternoon instead of doing anything productive, but sweet peanuts I am exhausted. I'm considered a geriatric patient according to my husband.
I am impatiently awaiting on my husband to decide on a baby name. In the meantime Emma considers to astound us with her genius and good manners. At lunch today an older couple sitting behind us stopped at our table on their way out to compliment us on how well behaved Emma was during lunch. Although she did have one little meltdown over not getting her way we do not allow her to have a fit in the restaurant (Paul took her outside to calm down). At home when she's finished eating she says "Excuse me please" to get out of her high chair. She says "bless you" when someone sneezes and knows how to say please and thank you. She also runs like Phoebe in Friends. Hilarious! I could brag on how awesome she is all night long, but I know that every parent thinks their kid is awesome so I'll spare you. Plus I need a snack.
I don't know how I can eat dinner and be hungry an hour later. Sweet peanuts!
Friday, January 4, 2013
Ain't No Shame in my Game
Another pregnant friend of mine recently posted about how she hadn't shaved in 5 weeks since she's on pelvic rest. I'm also on pelvic rest, but I like to keep a tidy area and I'll tell you why. I feel that if my obs have to be looking at my junk then at least they should be able to easily see what they're looking for plus I'm a little bit vain. I know you may never have guessed that by looking at me on a daily basis (seriously I haven't brushed my hair in like 4 days and if I leave the house I just make sure to wear my wedding ring so people know that some poor man did, in fact, marry me as if that excuses my slovenly ways). And being pregnant you never know how many people at any given time might be peering at your chucky.
Case in point...getting a cerclage put in at a teaching hospital. The first time I got molested by Doogie Howser I was 22 weeks pregnant and there were probably 15 people in the room. That's a lot of people whose job it is to be all up in your junk.
This time when I got my cerclage put I was only 14 weeks pregnant. The attending ob and her resident were both females. The anesthesiologist and his resident were both males. I am fairly certain that the resident ob and the resident anesthesiologist made plans for a date as they were supposed to be getting me ready for surgery. Don't worry about me y'all. Make your date. I'll input my own information into the computer chart.
The anesthesiologist resident perhaps should've kept his mind on his job and NOT on getting into the resident ob's junk. His placement of the spinal was, let's say, less than smooth. Certainly not as smooth as his game with her. My back was painful for 2 days!
After they get the spinal in they help you lay down onto the bed. A spinal takes effect very quickly so as you are laying down your legs are going numb. The attending anesthesiologist takes this little needle and starts poking you to see if you're numb enough for the surgery yet. As he's doing that the doctors are hoisting your legs up into stirrups that hang from over top of you. So you know how embarrassing it can be at your annual ob exam laying there with your legs in stirrups. Imagine now that your legs are at a 90 degree angle to your body. Now add in a huge ass spot light to highlight your chucky. There is no way in hell I could've gone into that appointment all Demi Moore hairy 80's vagina (if you really need to know then google Demi Moore and her Playboy spread from the 80's. Fair warning it looks like her vajajay is being attacked by a bear). And then they clean you and insert a catheter.
Of course since they only used a spinal I have the ability to lay there the entire time thinking about how people are staring at my junk. And by staring I mean I can feel them RIGHTHERE getting intimate with my junk in ways that the hubby has not been allowed to do in a long long while. Sigh. All you can do is lay there and wait for the embarrassment to be over. My mantra was along the lines of "This is their job. They are professionals. They see tons of vaginas. There's no need to be embarrassed." I can tell you this though it is definitely worse than child birth in terms of what is occurring down there.
Finally it's over and they cover you up, whale hoist you back to the other bed, and wheel you to recovery where only 1 poor nurse now has the fun job of checking your pad for bleeding (seriously who goes to nursing school for that...that's why those bitches get paid so much money! Pad checking).
I'll tell you what these 2 little munchkins that have grown inside my body are going to hear for the rest of their lives every time they act up stories about what we went through to get them here! And any potential suitors are going to have to hear about my cerclages.
To be fair in regard to the whole shaving thing, I did have laser hair removal so my upkeep is pretty minimal. Thank goodness! However, if I hadn't and I could no longer reach, don't think I wouldn't make hubby get out the razor. Like I said ain't no shame in my game.
Case in point...getting a cerclage put in at a teaching hospital. The first time I got molested by Doogie Howser I was 22 weeks pregnant and there were probably 15 people in the room. That's a lot of people whose job it is to be all up in your junk.
This time when I got my cerclage put I was only 14 weeks pregnant. The attending ob and her resident were both females. The anesthesiologist and his resident were both males. I am fairly certain that the resident ob and the resident anesthesiologist made plans for a date as they were supposed to be getting me ready for surgery. Don't worry about me y'all. Make your date. I'll input my own information into the computer chart.
The anesthesiologist resident perhaps should've kept his mind on his job and NOT on getting into the resident ob's junk. His placement of the spinal was, let's say, less than smooth. Certainly not as smooth as his game with her. My back was painful for 2 days!
After they get the spinal in they help you lay down onto the bed. A spinal takes effect very quickly so as you are laying down your legs are going numb. The attending anesthesiologist takes this little needle and starts poking you to see if you're numb enough for the surgery yet. As he's doing that the doctors are hoisting your legs up into stirrups that hang from over top of you. So you know how embarrassing it can be at your annual ob exam laying there with your legs in stirrups. Imagine now that your legs are at a 90 degree angle to your body. Now add in a huge ass spot light to highlight your chucky. There is no way in hell I could've gone into that appointment all Demi Moore hairy 80's vagina (if you really need to know then google Demi Moore and her Playboy spread from the 80's. Fair warning it looks like her vajajay is being attacked by a bear). And then they clean you and insert a catheter.
Of course since they only used a spinal I have the ability to lay there the entire time thinking about how people are staring at my junk. And by staring I mean I can feel them RIGHTHERE getting intimate with my junk in ways that the hubby has not been allowed to do in a long long while. Sigh. All you can do is lay there and wait for the embarrassment to be over. My mantra was along the lines of "This is their job. They are professionals. They see tons of vaginas. There's no need to be embarrassed." I can tell you this though it is definitely worse than child birth in terms of what is occurring down there.
Finally it's over and they cover you up, whale hoist you back to the other bed, and wheel you to recovery where only 1 poor nurse now has the fun job of checking your pad for bleeding (seriously who goes to nursing school for that...that's why those bitches get paid so much money! Pad checking).
I'll tell you what these 2 little munchkins that have grown inside my body are going to hear for the rest of their lives every time they act up stories about what we went through to get them here! And any potential suitors are going to have to hear about my cerclages.
To be fair in regard to the whole shaving thing, I did have laser hair removal so my upkeep is pretty minimal. Thank goodness! However, if I hadn't and I could no longer reach, don't think I wouldn't make hubby get out the razor. Like I said ain't no shame in my game.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Tattoos
When I went in for my cerclage this time the anesthesiologist made a comment about already having my back marked for the spinal. Marked? Oh, right. The tattoo on my lower back. The infamous tramp stamp. Something that seemed so cute and sexy when I was 21 and 50lbs thinner. I know some people prefer scroll type work on their lower backs. I went with the also popular Chinese symbols. It's supposed to mean princess. I'm pretty sure it actually says "I'm an asshole." There's also a butterfly to round out the symbols.
To add to the hot and sexy aka drunk and slutty that were my college years I also have a fish on my right side near my bathing suit line and the ever so tired ankh on my left shoulder blade. I remember walking around campus in my little tank tops with my ankh showing thinking how cool I was.
Oh, how wrong I was. I did not perceive of the present physical reality I now find myself in. I could not conceive of weighing almost 200lbs (some of you may say "but wait you're pregnant", but I'm here to tell you I've only gained like 2lbs since I've been pregnant because I am THAT overweight). That tiny guard suit I used to wear when I lifeguarded would fit Emma better than it would fit me right now. And by fit me I mean I might be able to get one leg into it and that's about all.
My sexy tattoos are sad reminders of my youth. I sometimes look in the mirror and wonder what they'll look like when I'm 40, 50, or 70 years old. If I don't get some of this weight off after baby #2 you might not be able to see them anymore. Perhaps that would be best.
Nothing says hot mess like your tramp stamp looking like it's the Michelin symbol on a spare tire.
I have to admit though I am sometimes tempted to get another tattoo. I'd like to get my anniversary and my children's birthdays tattooed on the back of my upper neck, near my hairline, in roman numerals. Its something I've thought about for a long time. Something that is hidden when my hair is down, almost like a secret that only I know about it. Then I wonder am I too old?
I have friends who have their noses pierced (the cute, tiny diamond like studs NOT the freak of the week, lead a bull around the yard, rings) and I've always thought that was super cute, but I definitely feel too old to get that done for the first time at age 35. Also, I'm pretty sure the hubby would NOT be happy about it.
So, what do you do when your physical age does not match your mental age? Other than the fact that physically I sometimes feel more like I'm 95 than 35, mentally I picture myself as still being 25. I forget that perhaps I've outgrown the ability to get a tattoo or a piercing. To be fair I also think getting my nose pierced would hurt A LOT. I'm not sure I'd be able to handle it.
So, what do you think? When are you too old to tattoo?
At least I can take comfort in knowing I have numerous identifying marks should the police ever need to locate my body.
To add to the hot and sexy aka drunk and slutty that were my college years I also have a fish on my right side near my bathing suit line and the ever so tired ankh on my left shoulder blade. I remember walking around campus in my little tank tops with my ankh showing thinking how cool I was.
Oh, how wrong I was. I did not perceive of the present physical reality I now find myself in. I could not conceive of weighing almost 200lbs (some of you may say "but wait you're pregnant", but I'm here to tell you I've only gained like 2lbs since I've been pregnant because I am THAT overweight). That tiny guard suit I used to wear when I lifeguarded would fit Emma better than it would fit me right now. And by fit me I mean I might be able to get one leg into it and that's about all.
My sexy tattoos are sad reminders of my youth. I sometimes look in the mirror and wonder what they'll look like when I'm 40, 50, or 70 years old. If I don't get some of this weight off after baby #2 you might not be able to see them anymore. Perhaps that would be best.
Nothing says hot mess like your tramp stamp looking like it's the Michelin symbol on a spare tire.
I have to admit though I am sometimes tempted to get another tattoo. I'd like to get my anniversary and my children's birthdays tattooed on the back of my upper neck, near my hairline, in roman numerals. Its something I've thought about for a long time. Something that is hidden when my hair is down, almost like a secret that only I know about it. Then I wonder am I too old?
I have friends who have their noses pierced (the cute, tiny diamond like studs NOT the freak of the week, lead a bull around the yard, rings) and I've always thought that was super cute, but I definitely feel too old to get that done for the first time at age 35. Also, I'm pretty sure the hubby would NOT be happy about it.
So, what do you do when your physical age does not match your mental age? Other than the fact that physically I sometimes feel more like I'm 95 than 35, mentally I picture myself as still being 25. I forget that perhaps I've outgrown the ability to get a tattoo or a piercing. To be fair I also think getting my nose pierced would hurt A LOT. I'm not sure I'd be able to handle it.
So, what do you think? When are you too old to tattoo?
At least I can take comfort in knowing I have numerous identifying marks should the police ever need to locate my body.
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