i would write about rick perry but i think he is just a figment of my imagination
apparently everyone was pouncing on everyone last night during the republican cat fight debates. except for michelle bachman. she gets no pounces.
not that i care about the debates (and don’t tell me that i should care because honestly, the only thing anyone seems to be caring about right now is talking louder than the person standing next to them).
what i do care about is the fact that pickle, this fetus of mine, is already measuring large. also, it’s quite a fickle pickle. while the very irritated patient ultrasound tech attempted to get measurements on this wombmate of mine yesterday, pickle decided to be all HEY WHAT’S UP GUYS, IMMA BE ALL CRAY-CRAY UP IN THIS PIECE AND SHOW YOU HOW I DANCE ON MY HEAD.
literally.
so i got to lay on the table and have the ultrasound tech tap around my abdomen for 25 whole minutes, trying to get the fetus to move, while i just watched it dance solo.
ON ITS HEAD.
(did i mention that my kid dances on its head? because it does. it’s like a magician.)
i mean, sure i was entirely embarrassed and felt bad for the patients who were waiting to see their own little bundles, because OMG SERIOUSLY 25 MINUTES OF FETUS WATCHING!!!
do you know what that is like?!?!
when you get ultrasounds (which, for me, doesn’t happen as often as i’d like to but then again, i’m not going to go all tom cruise pyscho about it like when katie holmes was pregnant with suri and they got their own ultrasound machine) you get this teeny glimpse into their strange little mini world for a few minutes. a very few minutes. measurements are made. a heartbeat is heard. save and print. here’s your pic to show the baby daddy. and then you’re outta there.
so ok 25 minutes was pretty stinkin cool. i had to drink a bunch of water, pace the hallways, then ride the elevator up and down for 12 floors, AND chug a coke in order to get the baby to turn right-side-up and give us the measurements we needed, but it was unforgettable.
to see this little being chill out and move and literally walk up your uterus and spin around and then dance on its head was like watching a movie. a really strange sci-fi movie, but a movie nonetheless. and then i realized that the screening of the movie was taking place inside my body.
then pickle decided to give everyone a little fist bump.
pickle is fantastically cool. that’s all i’m sayin.
this baby is going to be another big one, but really that’s no surprise. and it already has paul’s big cheeks. not THOSE kind of cheeks, the facial cheeks.
I LOVE CHEEKS (both kinds).
and then i died of lovey love loveness
when i showed this ultrasound pic to jackson, i told him, “this is the baby that’s growing in mommy’s belly right now. it’s your baby brother or sister.”
he took the picture out of my hands, looked at it and said, “i sure do love it.”
so do i, bud. so do i.
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Thank you for understanding.
Nic
stress
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tight
unyielding
exhausting
breathless
constant
pillow talk
with our household battling colds lately, snots and coughing and clogged ears oh my, we’ve spent a lot of time taking cold medicine, drinking tea and going to bed early.
meanwhile the magoo’s 2 year old molars have decided to arrive 5 months early, so he’s uber fun to be around. he has bitten through EVERYTHING. teething toys no longer exist because he has chomped through them, thereby making whatever liquid that’s inside leak out… he has bitten me to the point of drawing blood (no, he is not a vampire)… and his teeth have shredded multiple pacifiers.
side note: yes, we are working on taking away the “sass” and the fact that he is biting through them all only fuels that flame all the more. at the same time, that’s the one thing that offers him comfort when his molars are bothering him. ah, the back-and-forth of parenting…
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i digress… so we’ve been going to bed early. the whiny, miserable molaring (yes, i just made that a word) magoo has exhausted me on top of battling this cold.
i’m not sure what “pillow talk” is like at your house, but at our house, it consists of the day-to-day crap that we end up discussing as we get ready to hit the hay.
“what do you have going on tomorrow?”
“so is this meeting wednesday or thursday? i can’t remember.”
“you’re meeting so and so for a play date at 9:30, right?”
“can i schedule a haircut for this weekend?”
last night for example, there was nothing on tv that interested either of us. we watched part of “The Biggest Loser” finale and then i got bored. so i got ready for bed while paul took red out for his final potty and we turned in for the night.
instead of reading, we stayed up talking… or rather, i stayed up talking to paul, about everything and nothing. and then it got quiet. i assumed he was sleeping. we had snuggled to the point of me getting hot and irritated and them making him move to his side of the bed. (i need my space when i sleep so my feet can find the cold spots).
while i could hear paul breathing heavily, he was not yet snoring. and it was at this point when he blurts out, “what is a butt-to-butt fart called?”
“WHAT????????”
so we both start cracking up because once again, our pillow talk has turned to fart talk.
we discuss what it’s called when one farts while spooning. we then start pondering different names for what farts are called when you’re laying back to back with your partner… and do both parties have to fart… i dunno.
then my nyquil kicked in and i fell asleep.
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what does your pillow talk consist of? do you and your partner have fart names? anyone know what a butt-to-butt fart is called?
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and no, obviously i am not thinking clearly these days with the abundance of cold medicine i’m taking to combat this cold and a VERY cranky toddler on my hands, so i apologize if anyone is offended by fart talk… but, c’mon get over yourself. everyone farts. yup, EVEN YOU.
Have a Sip
