Friday, July 30, 2010

The Sweat Far Thing

This is not a post about boob sweat.

It was going to be. Oh yeah. It was. Because, I don't know if you've heard, but it's hot this summer. I do have this miserable story about driving down to my Aunt's house last week with Wendy in my car that has no air conditioning in the middle of the afternoon in 97 degree heat. With no air conditioning. And then the 45 minute trip turned into a two hour trip because of highway construction that was apparently NOT EVEN GOING ON because it was SO EFFING HOT.

The construction workers? They were probably sitting somewhere else, in the air conditioning. Me? I was getting pregnant heat stroke and spraying my three year-old down with a spray bottle full of water (aka, Ghetto AC) so she didn't get the heat stroke.

Miserable. You will be glad to know that there was an in-ground backyard pool at the end of that hell-rainbow. After soaking our over-cooked brains for a while, Wendy paddled her kiddie tube over to me and asked why I have been calling our plastic baby puddle in our back yard a "pool;" and did I think that she was never going to find out about this blissful Eden in which the rest of the world apparently basked? Also, when could she move into Aunt Stacey's house?

Anyway, I have a story with far less boob sweat, featuring Wendy and our favorite hippie crasher, who was here for a few days.

Let me fill in the dialog here.

Marc: What's this one?
Wendy: Hippopotamus. Are hippopotamuses deliiicious?
Marc: Probably pretty good, if you could get a big enough fire going. How about this?
Wendy: Crocodile. Are crocodiles deliiicious?
Marc: Most certainly. What about this one?
Wendy: Armadildos. Are armadildos delicious?
Marc: ...... armadildos?
Wendy: Yeah. Are they deliiicious?

(I'm not sure he actually ever answered that one; there was too much laughing.)

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Three Kinds of Awkward

1. Having to explain to several medical professionals that not only do I not know when I last had a period, I have no idea when I last had sex. If ever. What is this...suhh-ex you speak of? You see, there is this three year-old that lives in my house who's shrill demands pretty much eradicate the human brain's ability to form thoughts, let alone measure space, time, and...huh-? what was I-? babies?

2. Running into one of my students in the Planned Parenthood waiting room. She clutches her wallet and box of birth control; I make no attempt to explain why I'm there. I return her hug, highly amused as she pelts for the door with a high-pitched stage whisper to the slouchy guy waiting for her: "hohmygodthatwasmyteacherjeeeezus."

3. My sister (also pregnant) and I, breaking into dance in the crackers and juice aisle of the grocery store upon hearing "Hit Me Baby One More Time" over the loudspeaker. We were flinging our hair and girating our be-sweatpantsed rumps, enacting early-, family- and crazy- era Brittany at the same time. This is not awkward in itself. It is only made awkward when we disolve into giggles but keep throwing our butts around when we realize that the guy at the end of the aisle definitely made a U-turn with his cart just to watch with a big stupid grin on his face.

Good times.

Monday, July 05, 2010

Dearest

-Carl,
Though my prenatal vitamins do look much like your Glucosamine Chondroitin, they are not, in fact, the same. Maybe all of the folic acid and B vitamins will make you lactate or something. That would be cool. And teach you not to take random pills laying around on counters.

-Wendy,
Please stop using my hairbrush to brush the dog. Uncool.
Also, yes! The new toilet paper is "soft and wonderful just like velvet." Thank your daddy. Apparently, your bums more than just resemble each other, they are also share some sort of hereditary desire for being powdered by baby angels with hands full of marshmallow clouds and fairy laughter.

-Baby in My Belly:
Stop giving me midnight migraines. Stunts like this lead to names like Ingleborg. Fair warning.

-Carl (again),
Thank you for rubbing my neck while I cried last night and holding me til I went back to sleep. Breastfeeding together is going to be awesome!

Love,
Mo