Let’s Play A Game

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Or be a part of my non-scientific, double-blind, placebo-controlled, government-funded study!

Um, it’s really none of those things. But did you see how well that flowed from my fingers and translated on the written page? Seven years of pharmaceutical sales has taught me something, by God.

Mommies, tell me how many days +/- you delivered from your due date. Also, if you had two separate dates (like the lame LMP spinny-wheel date vs. what the ultrasounds predicted), which was closer? And non-mommies, I’m not discriminatory…tell me about your sisters, friends, etc.

And finally (TMI), did anyone have really bad breast pain in their last month? Like your nipple was struck by lightening?

Because OUCH.



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Today My Life Changed Forever

20

OK. So it’s not the birth of Whoorlito, but oh oh OH, so very important.

My husband agreed to get DVR for our Direct TV. People, this is monumental. MONUMENTAL.

I have listened to you all sing the praises of Tivo for years now, secretly hoping I would be able to join the DVR family. I would casually bring up the subject here and there, only to hear a swift, resounding NOOOOOOOOO come forth from my husband’s lips. And I was fine with it- we really don’t watch that much television anyway and it was probably for the best.

You see, my husband didn’t own a television set when we first started dating. Not a one. Which frankly caught me off guard seeing that he was/is a huge sports fan. Now, it’s debatable which of us is a bigger sports nut, but I knew the no-TV thing was going to have to change if we were going to move forward. I mean, how could we possibly watch all of the college football, NFL, college basketball and March Madness (not to mention golf! love watching golf!) without a damn television set? Sports bars? Friends’ houses? No thank you.

Well, I won the battle rather quickly considering the first weekend we spent together was the OU-Texas football game in Dallas (where he lived at the time) and we didn’t have tickets. I do believe the first 24 hours of our long-distance relationship was spent buying a TV set.

Whoorl – 1
D – 0

Eventually, when we moved to Chicago and merged our belongings, we owned a whopping TWO television sets. Holy hell, I thought he was going to keel over. But it was our move out here to California that really shocked me. Not only did we buy a flat-screen television, but we purchased Direct TV with (DUN DUN DUUUN) NFL Sunday Ticket. My prayers had been answered.

Every. Single. NFL. Game. At. My. Fingertips.

I still quiver at the thought.

My point? Well, I thought the well had run dry. Here is a man who went from NO television to several of them- including a big grey satellite dish screwed into the side of his home. He was done. Finito. No mas.

I don’t know what changed his mind, my sweet persuasion (complete with pregnancy glow!) or my intermittent nagging.

Come to think of it, the mind-changing might have occurred when I mentioned something to the effect of, “I WILL be breast-feeding every 2-3 hours in the middle of the night and BY GOD if I don’t have something good to watch, guess whose ass will be dragged out of bed to entertain me?”

Yeah, that might have been the turning point.

It certainly wasn’t when I flailed my over-dramatic ass on the bed yesterday crying, “HOW CAN THERE BE TRUE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD WHEN ONE CAN’T WATCH BOTH SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE AND ROCKSTAR:SUPERNOVA? (sniff, sniff, sob, sob) WHY IS LIFE SO UNFAIR?”

Well, whatever I did worked. Happy days.



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Pregnancy Has It’s Perks

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One of the beautiful things about being 36 weeks pregnant is while your husband slaves away in the nursery, you can sit on your ass and make up new hybrid cartoon characters with the baby’s belongings.

Introducing the spawn of Dumb Donald and Marvin the Martian.

spawn.jpg

martianhat.jpg



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Hello Lethargy, Nice to Meet You

20

I just realized my previous entry is about to disappear off my page, leaving nothing but blank space on my blog. That would accurately describe what’s going on in my brain right now…a whole lot of nothing. You would think Whoorlito’s arrival in a month would send my brain into a flurry of activity. Alas, not so much. I am so listless. So very bored and annoyed, but not wanting to take any steps to ratify the situation. Isn’t that the worst?

It’s the heat. All I want to think about is the heat. And it’s not even that hot for shit’s sake. How can it be 79 degrees outside, but 81 degrees in my house? How can my body produce this much sweat while living with a permanant ocean breeze? Why do all my pants stick to my sweaty legs while sitting in silence in front of a fan? Is Whoorlito residing in a perma-sauna?

People weren’t joking about the whole pregnancy-sucking-during-the-summer thing.

My sweet, sweet husband approached me about twenty minutes ago suggesting we go on a walk. He definitely senses my overall “blahness” and pulled himself away from his mound of work to help improve the mood. We started walking around the neighborhood, and within 5 minutes the sweat was beading up on my lip and the sun was scorching my eyes. I made him turn around and walk me home. Since when can I not enjoy a simple evening walk* with my husband?

It makes me sad.

And to top things off, I’m getting a canker sore at the verrrrry back of my tongue which feels like a sore throat. Son of a bitch.

Who wants be my friend? I’m just a ball of gaeity!

Thank Sweet Jebus So You Think You Can Dance is on tonight. Benji sure can shake that ass.

*Just in case my completely riveting writing has peaked your curiosity, we are going to try the walk thing again tonight when the sun starts to set. ALL HOPE IS NOT LOST, PEOPLE!



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