Friday, November 30, 2012

Just when you thought you knew everything about me...

1. Driving to my parents' on Sunday, Darren asked me a hundred billion questions about my opinions on the Mayan calendar and our impending doom.

I didn't really have any, but I developed some theories on the spot.  It was an interesting conversation.

His final statement was this:

"Well, don't you think that if the world is going to end on December 21st that you really ought to let me play the new Xbox on the 20th? Christmas will be too late..."

Clever boy.  Wish I could say I saw that coming, but I didn't.

Merry Christmas, err'body, just in case it doesn't come this year.


2. (In no way do I think that the world is ending on the 21st)

3. I got the flu vaccine yesterday.  The injection site is sore.  

4. The last real shot I got also left my arm sore, except it also swelled up to the size of a massive golf ball on my arm, so really, "sore" is an understatement.  Incidentally, I remembered yesterday that it has been 10 years since I received a tetanus booster. 

5. If you have any research and/or lectures as to why the flu vaccine is the absolute worst thing we can do to our bodies, put a sock in it.  It can't be undone, and I made an informed decision. So booooyahhhh.

6. I have a gnarly razor blade stretch mark design growing around my belly button.  It's actually kind of cool, which I'm thinking is a major tender mercy.

7. What is the proper way to refer to TUMS in the singular? I had one left yesterday, and I texted Darren asking that he bring me my last remaining "TUM", and debated forever on whether that looked dumb. I honestly don't care, but it did make me laugh.

8. He wasn't able to stop at home before coming to the office, so when he showed up carrying a brand spankin' new bottle of TUMS, my heart skipped a beat.  I had already resigned myself to a TUMSless existence.  He's so sweet.  

And yes, I kissed him.  Just in time for one of our she-patients and the doctor to be coming out of the adjusting room.  The she-patient called us out on PDA.  However, she was very understanding when I waved the bottle in front of her face.  Mostly, she just laughed, but I take it to mean she understood.

9. I signed up for childbirth education classes at the hospital where I'll be delivering!  Julie is going to be coming with me...I couldn't be more pumped.  I don't know why, but I feel like that is about the coolest thing we could do together.....and I'm pretty sure that makes me psycho.  However, I think having her there will make it easier for me to be less bored and not have to feel guilty because Darren is so bored.  Because when Darren is bored, nary a soul in the room DOESN'T know it.  Julie and I are more mature than that ;-)

10. I had another OB appointment this week, wherein I learned that I have a slightly narrow pelvis.

I couldn't explain the emotion those words produced without using the word "defective". 

I was like, "Wait! How can this be?! I'm a HILTON! Hiltons have big babies, and I was bred to have big babies!"

(I don't know if my baby will be big, I just know I should be capable of delivering fatties).

Dr. L wasn't trying to alarm me, it was more of a keep-this-in-the-back-of-your-head fact share, so that I wouldn't be surprised down the road. 

I went home from the appointment and spent some time blog-stalking. While stalking Erin's blog, I noticed one of her three little icons that she has at the bottom of every post looked like Carolyn's birth story.  I thought, "What the hey, I'm having a kid...let's do this," so, I clicked on it. 

Lo, and behold, if the intro didn't speak to my heart. 


Thanks, Erin! I remember reading that when it was first posted and finding it funny.

This time I found it hyyylarious because I now have a better way to describe how I felt.

I felt(/feel) like a heifer with bad pelvic measurements.

And there is still no way to accurately explain how that feels.

I guess you can use your imagination.  Or your memory.  Whichever applies to you, Blog Fan. 

1 comment:

Erin said...

Dude, having a small pelvis is no joke. I, too, thought I would be quite the baby bearing machine. That's the kind of stock I come from. Alas, it was not to be.

Also, don't let Darren talk you into letting him play his new gaming system before Christmas. Because as soon as he starts playing that is when he stops paying attention to you...and then you get waved out of the way of the TV any time you dare try to cross your apartment from one end to the other. And then you might want to punch him.