Contact

My due date is 58 days away. I’m so ready for this to be over; pregnancy is definitely not my favorite stage in life.

That said, I’m incredibly excited to meet our daughter. Our daughter. OUR DAUGHTER. I have to keep repeating that, because it just doesn’t feel real. Sure, I can feel her kick… um, constantly. Yet, my mind is having trouble grasping that this is a human and not just some freak medical condition that will just magically go away and not produce a human.

You guys, a daughter!

I am going to be in charge of raising another human being. The universe allowed that. MIND. BLOWN.

Saturday afternoon, Chris and I were driving home after grabbing lunch. In an attempt to make idle conversation Chris asked, “What will you do someday when I die?” Because I’m SUCH a romantic, I didn’t skip a beat and said,”Kill myself, obviously. What will you do when I die?” He looked at me, as if in deep thought and said, “Probably build something.”

Um, WTF, build something? I guess that’s fine, as long as it’s a shrine to me.

Today someone asked me if we had a name for the baby. Silly question, since I have named basically every inanimate object I’ve ever owned.

“Of course we have a name! Right now I’m calling her Goddamn Fetus, but we are thinking of changing it in time for her birth.”

At that moment I realized I am a monster and shouldn’t be allowed to procreate, but at least I’m a funny monster to some. Just not the person I was speaking to at the moment. But oh well, you can’t win over everyone.

In an attempt to get our house ready for a tiny human that will be arriving in October, I took a couple much needed days off work. At 19 weeks pregnant, I have the energy to get shit done and wanted to take advantage before that disappears along with my waistline.

A few hours into my de-junking project I got bored and ran to the grocery store to get that task out of the way. I raced through Harmons throwing basically anything vegetarian with protein into my cart and headed to the check-out line. Normally the cashiers are uber friendly, so it was really odd that the cashier barely spoke to me. The only time she looked up at me, she stared at me like she’d seen a ghost.

When I reached my car I checked the mirror to get apply Chapstick to my badly chapped lips, and noticed something absolutely disgusting. My entire mouth was covered in blood. I’m talking nasty vampire scene of blood dripping from my teeth.

SO FUCKING GROSS.

Yeah, so bleeding gums are apparently yet another pregnancy symptom no one bothered to tell me about. This baby girl had better be worth it. OR ELSE.

Pregnancy is so goddamn weird. And I’m not even talking about the weirdness that is happening to my body, but rather how people react.

The most common reaction comes from my family to my husband. “Chris, we are just SO VERY proud of you.” Um, proud of him… for what exactly? Jizzing in their daughter/sister/granddaughter?

Maybe it’s normal to tell an expectant father you’re proud of him, but to me it sounds so odd. How about being proud of me? I’m the one actually growing our daughter, and I’d like a parade… or at least a trophy.

If that happens will someone please wake me up, because I may possibly nap through it.

Saturday night Chris and I went to a friend’s house for the evening, where he regaled us with Rosie Finlinson stories.

She’s absolutely the worst dog at night; if she’s on the floor she wants in bed with us. If she’s in bed with us, she wants us awake and does everything she can to make it happen.

In hopes of getting our friends to truly understand what we deal with each night, we act out the scene.

You really have to watch this video to feel our pain.

Chris knew what he was getting himself into by marrying me. We’d been friends for a few years before dating, and we lived together for months before he proposed. Yet sometimes I can’t help but wonder if he’s really ready for a lifetime of my shit.

Case in point, we were talking about technology and entertainment a few days ago when he said, “I can’t believe Blockbuster is still around. How is that possible?” To which I replied, “I can’t believe I haven’t had sex with Wolf Blitzer yet.”

Well, maybe he IS ready for a lifetime of my shit because now that I think about it, my comment didn’t phase him and he continued talking about technology, and probably space. I’m not so sure, because I was too busy wondering what kind of stamina Wolf had to actually listen to him.

This blog holds so many dating/relationship stories, and I’m so glad I have it. Sadly it doesn’t chronicle anything from my most recent relationship. The relationship that matters the most…. with Chris, you know that guy I MARRIED!

I was so busy falling madly in love, that I sort of forgot to write everything down. Sure there are tweets and Facebook updates, but that’s not the same. Oh and there’s our wedding blog, but that doesn’t begin to cover the awesomeness that was dating Chris.

So now, I am forcing myself to start blogging again. Who cares that I lost my creative mojo, it’s time to start writing again. I’ll find my mojo… or I won’t, either way I want to remember life shit.

This handsome man spills coffee grounds all over my kitchen counter and leaves empty coffee cups everywhere. And yet, I couldn’t be happier. Why didn’t you people tell me love was so grand?!

I helped a boy find a pug.

Two years later, the same boy found me.

The rest of the story? I can’t wait to find out.