I just realized that my daughters stripper name will be Dixie 16.
While this is not as good as MY stripper name (Fluffy Aspen), she will definitely have some big shoes to fill.
In the meantime, Tommy and I are enjoying our vacation in Cancun and Cozumel...tomorrow we will watch a bunch of our friends race in Ironman Cozumel. I am absolutely GREEN with envy. They are going to have a gorgeous day on the island and an amazing experience. JEALOUSY!! The alarm goes off at 5am so we can head to the swim start...goodnight moon!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
It's a Hamburger!
Is an ultrasound of a fetus's labia considered child porn?
I dunno.
Going into the ultrasound, I had reached this strange place. I had always wanted a girl for my first child...the thought of raising a little ballerina was just too much for me to resist. I also always thought that those women who said, "Oh, I don't care what gender the baby is, as long as it's healthy", were lying sacks of shit. But the further along in my pregnancy I got, the less and less attached to having a girl I got. I really only wanted a healthy baby. Shocking, I know.
And then there were the wierdos who think I would be a better mom to a boy. 1. This is not an appropriate thing to say to someone. 2. I hate sports. Hate them. Really, really hate them. 3. Just because I am moderately athletic and excessively crass doesn't mean anything.
Alas, we got the news that we are having a baby with 10 fingers and 10 toes and 4 chambers in the heart...AND IT'S A GIRL! She's got a hamburger not a hotdog!
And true to a baby of mine, she gave us the Shocker just before she spread her legs and we got a good look at her labia.
Nice job Baby Blain. I think we are gonna get along just fine.
I dunno.
Going into the ultrasound, I had reached this strange place. I had always wanted a girl for my first child...the thought of raising a little ballerina was just too much for me to resist. I also always thought that those women who said, "Oh, I don't care what gender the baby is, as long as it's healthy", were lying sacks of shit. But the further along in my pregnancy I got, the less and less attached to having a girl I got. I really only wanted a healthy baby. Shocking, I know.
And then there were the wierdos who think I would be a better mom to a boy. 1. This is not an appropriate thing to say to someone. 2. I hate sports. Hate them. Really, really hate them. 3. Just because I am moderately athletic and excessively crass doesn't mean anything.
Alas, we got the news that we are having a baby with 10 fingers and 10 toes and 4 chambers in the heart...AND IT'S A GIRL! She's got a hamburger not a hotdog!
And true to a baby of mine, she gave us the Shocker just before she spread her legs and we got a good look at her labia.
Nice job Baby Blain. I think we are gonna get along just fine.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Boy or Girl?!?!
Place your bets now!
We find out the sex of Cletus the Fetus next Thursday...assuming said child decides to behave appropriately during the ultrasound. But since this IS my child, it's unlikely that he/she will cooporate and will never actually get to find the answer we are looking for.
Alas, let's make some preliminary guesses using folklore, old wives tales and Chinese theories to predict the gender of Cletus the Fetus. I popped a bit of belly overnight (although, it could just be constipation...), so here is an 18 week picture to help us in our search.
How you are carrying:
Carrying low = Boy
Carrying high = girl
ANSWER = BOY
Wedding Ring Swing:
(Hang your wedding ring from string in front of your belly)
If it moves in a circle = Boy
If in a straight line - Girl.
ANSWER = GIRL
Heart Rate:
Baby's heart rate is under 140 beats per minute = Boy
Baby's heart rate is over 140 BPM = Girl
ANSWER = GIRL
Chinese Gender Chart:
Chinese age = 29
Conception Month = July
ANSWER = BOY
Random People's Opinions:
50% = Boy
50% = Girl
Answer = I assume the lady behind me at Kroger was right.
Sleep Preferences:
Prefer to sleep on your right side = Girl
Prefer to sleep on your left side = Boy
ANSWER = GIRL
Drano Test:
This "test" is performed by mixing Drano and mother's urine. Depending on the color, you'll find out if it's a boy or girl.
I did not do this test because it involved buying junk. And I am just that lazy.
The results are mixed and, as expected, it's about half and half.
I have no idea and regardless, the kids room will still be blue and green and it WILL come home from the hospital in a tutu. At least Tommy and I agree that all children should be dressed in costumes at all times. Forget onesies. My kid is going as Baby Gaga until it's old enough to fight me.
We find out the sex of Cletus the Fetus next Thursday...assuming said child decides to behave appropriately during the ultrasound. But since this IS my child, it's unlikely that he/she will cooporate and will never actually get to find the answer we are looking for.
Alas, let's make some preliminary guesses using folklore, old wives tales and Chinese theories to predict the gender of Cletus the Fetus. I popped a bit of belly overnight (although, it could just be constipation...), so here is an 18 week picture to help us in our search.
How you are carrying:
Carrying low = Boy
Carrying high = girl
ANSWER = BOY
Wedding Ring Swing:
(Hang your wedding ring from string in front of your belly)
If it moves in a circle = Boy
If in a straight line - Girl.
ANSWER = GIRL
Heart Rate:
Baby's heart rate is under 140 beats per minute = Boy
Baby's heart rate is over 140 BPM = Girl
ANSWER = GIRL
Chinese Gender Chart:
Chinese age = 29
Conception Month = July
ANSWER = BOY
Random People's Opinions:
50% = Boy
50% = Girl
Answer = I assume the lady behind me at Kroger was right.
Sleep Preferences:
Prefer to sleep on your right side = Girl
Prefer to sleep on your left side = Boy
ANSWER = GIRL
Drano Test:
This "test" is performed by mixing Drano and mother's urine. Depending on the color, you'll find out if it's a boy or girl.
I did not do this test because it involved buying junk. And I am just that lazy.
The results are mixed and, as expected, it's about half and half.
I have no idea and regardless, the kids room will still be blue and green and it WILL come home from the hospital in a tutu. At least Tommy and I agree that all children should be dressed in costumes at all times. Forget onesies. My kid is going as Baby Gaga until it's old enough to fight me.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Happy 3rd Anniversary to Us!
Tommy and I celebrated our 3rd Anniversary on Wednesday. We celebrated by sitting at home on the couch (with our Christmas decorations...don't judge) and cuddling. We are lame. But awesome.
Every year we exchange small gifts in accordance with the traditional wedding gift guide. Year 1 it was paper, year 2 was cotton and this year was leather.
Ouch.
I turned to Facebook for some help on this and recieved the obligatory leather thong, whip, etc, suggestions. The most disturbing ones were when my parents friends (whom I grew up with) started making suggestions of assless chaps and such. It was too much.
Nonetheless, I got a great suggestion from friend to get a leather journal where he and I can exchange notes and pass it back and forth. I thought this was a great idea...and since Tommy always wins the Sweetness Award for Gift Giving, I thought this would help me win this year.
Last night we exchanged gifts.
I gave him my leather journal and I opened my present from him.
Side story: At my friend Ashleys wedding in May, there was a photo booth. In the photo booth, there was a basket of costumes. In the basket of costumes was a fur "aviator hat"...I loved this hat. I tried to buy it from the guy who owned it but he wasn't having it.
Back to the story...
I opened my present to find this leather hat. And it is AWESOME.
Sidenote: Bubba the Thanksgiving Turkey is also shown here. Everyday during November, we write things we are thankful for on pieces of paper and pin them to Bubba. On Thanksgiving we take the notes off and read them...aren't we adorable? This is Bubba's 4th Thanksgiving...he may be on his last turkey leg.
Unfortunately, I think the hat may have been made with real rabbit fur...which is driving Miss Dixie INSANE. The hat may serve more as a Dixie training tool than a fashion statement. She will do anything you ask as long as you are wearing the hat.
While Tommy wins the Coolness Award this time around, I TOTALLY snagged the Sweetness Award. Go me. Winner winner chicken dinner!
I can't believe we have been married for 3 years.
I can't believe anyone has tolerated me as a roomate for 3 years.
The man is a saint.
Here's to many more!!
Every year we exchange small gifts in accordance with the traditional wedding gift guide. Year 1 it was paper, year 2 was cotton and this year was leather.
Ouch.
I turned to Facebook for some help on this and recieved the obligatory leather thong, whip, etc, suggestions. The most disturbing ones were when my parents friends (whom I grew up with) started making suggestions of assless chaps and such. It was too much.
Nonetheless, I got a great suggestion from friend to get a leather journal where he and I can exchange notes and pass it back and forth. I thought this was a great idea...and since Tommy always wins the Sweetness Award for Gift Giving, I thought this would help me win this year.
Last night we exchanged gifts.
I gave him my leather journal and I opened my present from him.
Side story: At my friend Ashleys wedding in May, there was a photo booth. In the photo booth, there was a basket of costumes. In the basket of costumes was a fur "aviator hat"...I loved this hat. I tried to buy it from the guy who owned it but he wasn't having it.
Back to the story...
I opened my present to find this leather hat. And it is AWESOME.
Sidenote: Bubba the Thanksgiving Turkey is also shown here. Everyday during November, we write things we are thankful for on pieces of paper and pin them to Bubba. On Thanksgiving we take the notes off and read them...aren't we adorable? This is Bubba's 4th Thanksgiving...he may be on his last turkey leg.
Unfortunately, I think the hat may have been made with real rabbit fur...which is driving Miss Dixie INSANE. The hat may serve more as a Dixie training tool than a fashion statement. She will do anything you ask as long as you are wearing the hat.
While Tommy wins the Coolness Award this time around, I TOTALLY snagged the Sweetness Award. Go me. Winner winner chicken dinner!
I can't believe we have been married for 3 years.
I can't believe anyone has tolerated me as a roomate for 3 years.
The man is a saint.
Here's to many more!!
What My Mama Taught Me.
My mama taught me some manners. I can't say that I always USE them, but I at least KNOW them.
She taught me that if I go to someones house for dinner I have to eat a little bit of everything. So for example, I went to my BFF Paige's house for dinner the other night and she told me we were having Potato Soup Salad. I ate a little snack beforehand because dude, potato soup salad sounds gross. But I knew I would have to eat a little of it, because that's polite. I just didn't want to starve too.
Turns out that Paige just doesn't like to use punctuation in her texts and we were actually having Potato Soup COMMA Salad...which was quite tasty. It's a shame I wasn't hungry enough to eat all of it.
Fast forward to yesterday at work when we were all sitting around discussing what everyone else was bringing for the potluck today. I said I was bringing mac and cheese and someone said, "It better be homemade, Kraft is gross". I said, "Nah, I'm gonna bring Kraft because the only thing we have to heat it up with is a microwave and microwaved homemade mac is nasty". She said, "That's gross. People will be disappointed."
I almost punched her.
My response to that was, "Well, then you don't have to eat it and you are welcome to bring your own homemade mac".
Let us bear in mind that the person making these comments is my boss.
I may be unemployed tomorrow.
The conversation went on and on about how Kraft is gross (which let's be honest, it's not as good as homemade in any way, shape or form, but it is not gross) and how I am a terrible person and am ruining Thanksgiving, etc...
DUDE. It's the work potluck. It's not even in close proximity to Thanksgiving. I have got to hope that you have more important things to worry about.
Are you allowed to critsize the food that others bring to a potluck? My mama would say no.
She taught me that if I go to someones house for dinner I have to eat a little bit of everything. So for example, I went to my BFF Paige's house for dinner the other night and she told me we were having Potato Soup Salad. I ate a little snack beforehand because dude, potato soup salad sounds gross. But I knew I would have to eat a little of it, because that's polite. I just didn't want to starve too.
Turns out that Paige just doesn't like to use punctuation in her texts and we were actually having Potato Soup COMMA Salad...which was quite tasty. It's a shame I wasn't hungry enough to eat all of it.
Fast forward to yesterday at work when we were all sitting around discussing what everyone else was bringing for the potluck today. I said I was bringing mac and cheese and someone said, "It better be homemade, Kraft is gross". I said, "Nah, I'm gonna bring Kraft because the only thing we have to heat it up with is a microwave and microwaved homemade mac is nasty". She said, "That's gross. People will be disappointed."
I almost punched her.
My response to that was, "Well, then you don't have to eat it and you are welcome to bring your own homemade mac".
Let us bear in mind that the person making these comments is my boss.
I may be unemployed tomorrow.
The conversation went on and on about how Kraft is gross (which let's be honest, it's not as good as homemade in any way, shape or form, but it is not gross) and how I am a terrible person and am ruining Thanksgiving, etc...
DUDE. It's the work potluck. It's not even in close proximity to Thanksgiving. I have got to hope that you have more important things to worry about.
Are you allowed to critsize the food that others bring to a potluck? My mama would say no.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Does Ironman Hate Women?
I dunno, but I when I asked for a refund or deferral to the 2012 race, I got denied. I'm obviously sad that I won't be able to race AND won't be able to get my money back (but a new baby is so much better!)...but even more than that, I'm upset with Ironman (WTC) for having such a crappy policy. You have to sign up for a very expensive race a year in advance and the refund policy is basically non-existant.
I can either forfeit my entire entry ($630) or withdraw and get $150 back...neither of these options are very good.
Anyway, I wrote on Slowtwitch...the triathlete forum where you can get great info about the sport as well as some very opinionted idiots opinions. It will be interesting to see what people say in response to my post...I predict there will be a mixture of idiots and those with valid points. Either way, I love a good debate!
Update: As expected, Slowtwitch is about half and half on the refund debate. Half feel that WTC should offer refunds but not necessarily for pregnancy in particular. A few feel that pregnancy, like maternity leave, should be reimbursed/paid, whathaveyou. And the other half feel that the policy is good (well, actually most hate the policy but believe that WTC can do whatever they want, which I agree with, but that wasn't the original question). And of course, one asshole should be shot. I have been mezmorized by it. Overall (minus the asshole) the perspectives were interesting.
For example: If pregnancy doesn't get a refund because it was a choice, what about military deployment to a war zone? At first I was like, "yeah, that should get a refund!", but then I realized that joining the military was also a choice, and then I was like "well, interesting".
Overall...interesting.
And mad props to my pal Laura who had to have brain surgery last year 4 months before IMCanada. She appealled to the WTC to get a refund/deferment and they denied her (assholes). She raced anyway and rocked it. She was/is my inspiration!!
I can either forfeit my entire entry ($630) or withdraw and get $150 back...neither of these options are very good.
Anyway, I wrote on Slowtwitch...the triathlete forum where you can get great info about the sport as well as some very opinionted idiots opinions. It will be interesting to see what people say in response to my post...I predict there will be a mixture of idiots and those with valid points. Either way, I love a good debate!
Update: As expected, Slowtwitch is about half and half on the refund debate. Half feel that WTC should offer refunds but not necessarily for pregnancy in particular. A few feel that pregnancy, like maternity leave, should be reimbursed/paid, whathaveyou. And the other half feel that the policy is good (well, actually most hate the policy but believe that WTC can do whatever they want, which I agree with, but that wasn't the original question). And of course, one asshole should be shot. I have been mezmorized by it. Overall (minus the asshole) the perspectives were interesting.
For example: If pregnancy doesn't get a refund because it was a choice, what about military deployment to a war zone? At first I was like, "yeah, that should get a refund!", but then I realized that joining the military was also a choice, and then I was like "well, interesting".
Overall...interesting.
And mad props to my pal Laura who had to have brain surgery last year 4 months before IMCanada. She appealled to the WTC to get a refund/deferment and they denied her (assholes). She raced anyway and rocked it. She was/is my inspiration!!
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Monday, November 01, 2010
Getting Started.
I'm great at STARTING projects. I HATE finishing them.
This is why our house is in TOTAL disarray.
I STARTED re-organizing the closet in the gym (now the gym/spare room)...but I haven't finished it. This means there are stacks upon stacks of crap that needs to find a home in there. Someday. I just know it.
We cleaned out the closets in the gym/spare room and Cletus's room and put some stuff in trash buckets, some stuff in GoodWill buckets and some stuff in Craigslist buckets. And then we lined all the buckets up in the hallway so as to obstruct any possible forward motion one might want to perform. The dogs see this as an entertaining obstacle course. I see it as a lawsuit. The odds of these items ever leaving the hallway is slim to none.
We are expecting our PotteryBarn PerfectlyMatched PerfectlyWonderful Bedroom set to arrive this weekend, so I posted the ugly old furniture on Craigslist. It sold in less than 3 hours (apparently I priced it WAY too low)..and it sold to a random guy that I know through triathlon. What are the odds? But since we now have no bedroom furniture, all of our clothes are in piles along the walls of the room. This is, once again, very exciting for the dogs. This is not so good for our clothes.
Does Half Price Books take VHS tapes? I have about 50 I need to get rid of.
I wanted to decorate for Christmas this weekend because we will be out of town for the next million weekends and I wanted to be able to enjoy the tree...but of course, I mostly just set up the tree and then got all the rest of the decorations out and put them on the table/counter. At some point, I will finish decorating, but let's be serious. I lost interest in putting up the Christmas tree about halfway in. Thank goodness Tommy got home, otherwise Debbie would only be half done. I don't know Margo!
I'm not great at finishing projects. Oops.
In other news, my girlfriends are hatching crotch parasites all over the place! Jodie hatched on Saturday and Tiffany is being induced today - I can't wait to get to Dallas to see them in a couple of weeks!!
I am finally getting back into the groove of the morning workout. Kind of. I woke up today and headed to the park to meet my friends...and I caught the train. What a great way to be greeted at 5AM. Nonetheless, I had a decent run and it was nice to be running with people again! FINALLY! But DUDE, it is HARD to get back into the morning routine again. I'm one day in and thinking about quitting already. Ha.
On Friday, I had to go buy fat clothes. Not maternity clothes, just fat clothes. My clothes all still fit because, alas I would not be so lucky to be blessed with an adorable little bump, no no no, I got a flabby stomach. At 17 weeks, I have nothing to show for it except a stomach that when you look at it, you think, "Man, she should lay off the Ho-Ho's". So I went and bought some fat shirts. I feel better today because at least I look decent and you can't see my jiggly belly through my shirts anymore. Come on Baby Bump, hurry up and get here already!!
Oh, and BTW, I went as Spock for Halloween. It was lame...but it was comfortable. I sang You Oughta Know by Alanis Morisette and everytime I missed a note an angel lost it's wings. Tragic. Lots of wingless angels out there today.
We ordered Cletus's crib on Saturday! It wasn't what we went in for, but it was what we had intended to buy, but never really found. We are very excited!
And I am ordering this bedding today!
Feel free to make unsolicted negative comments about my choice of bedding but since you have terrible taste, you might as well save yourself from carpal tunnel and keep your comments to yourself. :)
Progress is happening...slowly but Shirley.
And don't call me Shirley.
This is why our house is in TOTAL disarray.
I STARTED re-organizing the closet in the gym (now the gym/spare room)...but I haven't finished it. This means there are stacks upon stacks of crap that needs to find a home in there. Someday. I just know it.
We cleaned out the closets in the gym/spare room and Cletus's room and put some stuff in trash buckets, some stuff in GoodWill buckets and some stuff in Craigslist buckets. And then we lined all the buckets up in the hallway so as to obstruct any possible forward motion one might want to perform. The dogs see this as an entertaining obstacle course. I see it as a lawsuit. The odds of these items ever leaving the hallway is slim to none.
We are expecting our PotteryBarn PerfectlyMatched PerfectlyWonderful Bedroom set to arrive this weekend, so I posted the ugly old furniture on Craigslist. It sold in less than 3 hours (apparently I priced it WAY too low)..and it sold to a random guy that I know through triathlon. What are the odds? But since we now have no bedroom furniture, all of our clothes are in piles along the walls of the room. This is, once again, very exciting for the dogs. This is not so good for our clothes.
Does Half Price Books take VHS tapes? I have about 50 I need to get rid of.
I wanted to decorate for Christmas this weekend because we will be out of town for the next million weekends and I wanted to be able to enjoy the tree...but of course, I mostly just set up the tree and then got all the rest of the decorations out and put them on the table/counter. At some point, I will finish decorating, but let's be serious. I lost interest in putting up the Christmas tree about halfway in. Thank goodness Tommy got home, otherwise Debbie would only be half done. I don't know Margo!
I'm not great at finishing projects. Oops.
In other news, my girlfriends are hatching crotch parasites all over the place! Jodie hatched on Saturday and Tiffany is being induced today - I can't wait to get to Dallas to see them in a couple of weeks!!
I am finally getting back into the groove of the morning workout. Kind of. I woke up today and headed to the park to meet my friends...and I caught the train. What a great way to be greeted at 5AM. Nonetheless, I had a decent run and it was nice to be running with people again! FINALLY! But DUDE, it is HARD to get back into the morning routine again. I'm one day in and thinking about quitting already. Ha.
On Friday, I had to go buy fat clothes. Not maternity clothes, just fat clothes. My clothes all still fit because, alas I would not be so lucky to be blessed with an adorable little bump, no no no, I got a flabby stomach. At 17 weeks, I have nothing to show for it except a stomach that when you look at it, you think, "Man, she should lay off the Ho-Ho's". So I went and bought some fat shirts. I feel better today because at least I look decent and you can't see my jiggly belly through my shirts anymore. Come on Baby Bump, hurry up and get here already!!
Oh, and BTW, I went as Spock for Halloween. It was lame...but it was comfortable. I sang You Oughta Know by Alanis Morisette and everytime I missed a note an angel lost it's wings. Tragic. Lots of wingless angels out there today.
We ordered Cletus's crib on Saturday! It wasn't what we went in for, but it was what we had intended to buy, but never really found. We are very excited!
And I am ordering this bedding today!
Feel free to make unsolicted negative comments about my choice of bedding but since you have terrible taste, you might as well save yourself from carpal tunnel and keep your comments to yourself. :)
Progress is happening...slowly but Shirley.
And don't call me Shirley.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Why Dogs Love Their Owners.
I a firm believer that yes, dogs CAN feel embarrasment. I am also a firm believer that dressing them up in AWESOME Halloween costumes is not a source of this embarrasment.
Dogs love Halloween and they love to be dressed up in costumes.
I am not allowed into Petco during the holidays anymore because I will buy any dog costume they sell in an XXL. The options are usually limited, but this has not stopped me from accumulating a rather large collection of costumes for my mutts.
They love it. They love posing for the camera. They love the attention they get when they wear them. (I will agree and say that they do not love the hats and things on their ears...but eh, I don't like hats either, and sometimes, they are just necessary. Suck it up Puppy.)
Dogs love Halloween and they love to be dressed up in costumes.
I am not allowed into Petco during the holidays anymore because I will buy any dog costume they sell in an XXL. The options are usually limited, but this has not stopped me from accumulating a rather large collection of costumes for my mutts.
They love it. They love posing for the camera. They love the attention they get when they wear them. (I will agree and say that they do not love the hats and things on their ears...but eh, I don't like hats either, and sometimes, they are just necessary. Suck it up Puppy.)
Monday, October 25, 2010
Pee, Pee and More Pee
Truthfully, other than my totally irrational (yet common) fears that something tragic will happen to my unborn child, the thing I think about most is when I will get to pee again. I am constantly in need of a place to pee.
I can tell you the exact distance (in either feet or minutes) it will take you to reach a bathroom at any given location in the great Houston metroplex. I can probably give you most of the stops on the way to Dallas and the DFW area as well, but don't test me.
I don't know how something so small has the ability to shrink my bladder so significantly but then I start thinking about what will happen when Cletus actually starts to reach full term...I'm totally screwed. I'm gonna buy stock in She-Wee. Maybe I can be their spokesperson!
I ran the Houston Half Marathon yesterday...although my name is not in the results . It's probably better this way...that way there is no proof of my slow time. Ha.
The weather was perfect racing weather for me - kind of warmish (about 80 for you northerners) and humid as hell. Everyone else seemed to be in a tizzy about it, but I heart the humidity. I'm pretty sure Cletus is gonna have gills. Part man, part fish! Almost like a mermaid, but not.
Nonetheless, I had a great race...not because I raced well, because, let's be honest, racing well when you are pregnant isn't all that smart of an idea...but I had a great race because it was great day. And frankly, all in all, I had a good run. I enjoyed my day thoroughly.
HOWEVER.
There's always a "however".
Before the race started - after the prayer, but before the Star Spangled Banner - I had to pee. Again. But I didn't want to wander too far from the start...so I just found a post and went behind that. I told the other guy standing there just to avoid eye contact and we would never talk about this again. Nevermind the 3,000 runners who just got up close and personal with my pasty rear, but as long as you avoid eye contact, they can't tag you on Facebook. GENIUS!
I was feeling pretty good, running with my pal Laura. We were both taking it easy - she is running New York in 2 weeks and I am pregnant (no way!?!) so we were just enjoying the day. I found a bush to pee behind around mile 2...and again around mile 3.5...and thus a trend was born. Laura bailed on me around mile 5 (she wasn't feeling so hot) and I was on my own...peeing on the side of the road of a race is way better when you have a buddy, btw.
I peed 7 times during the half marathon. 7 times. That's more than every 2 miles. No wonder my time was 2 hours and 20 minutes even though I felt like I was running a decent pace. Ha. And I had to refill the water bottle I was carrying at every other water station...
Over the course the race, I peed 7 times (7 times!), drank 3-16 ounce bottles of water, a FULL cup of Gatorade every 2 miles and 4 Clif-Blocs. I'm pretty sure this sets a world record of consumption at the half marathon level. I should have gotten an award.
All in all, I had a great race. Going slow wasn't easy, especially at the end when I felt like a rockstar and could have run 8 minute miles on the last few miles, but I know it was the right thing to do. And ultimately, I acheived my goal of finishing in time to get a shirt in my size (this race is notorious of running out of appropriate sizes). I got my shirt (even though it's ugly as sin), enjoyed my morning and felt like I challenged myself a little...and celebrated with crepes. There is little else more enjoyable than eating a delicious reward after a good race.
I love racing. And I love Cletus. Finding the balance is hard. Especially when I have to pee every 15 minutes.
I can tell you the exact distance (in either feet or minutes) it will take you to reach a bathroom at any given location in the great Houston metroplex. I can probably give you most of the stops on the way to Dallas and the DFW area as well, but don't test me.
I don't know how something so small has the ability to shrink my bladder so significantly but then I start thinking about what will happen when Cletus actually starts to reach full term...I'm totally screwed. I'm gonna buy stock in She-Wee. Maybe I can be their spokesperson!
I ran the Houston Half Marathon yesterday...although my name is not in the results . It's probably better this way...that way there is no proof of my slow time. Ha.
The weather was perfect racing weather for me - kind of warmish (about 80 for you northerners) and humid as hell. Everyone else seemed to be in a tizzy about it, but I heart the humidity. I'm pretty sure Cletus is gonna have gills. Part man, part fish! Almost like a mermaid, but not.
Nonetheless, I had a great race...not because I raced well, because, let's be honest, racing well when you are pregnant isn't all that smart of an idea...but I had a great race because it was great day. And frankly, all in all, I had a good run. I enjoyed my day thoroughly.
HOWEVER.
There's always a "however".
Before the race started - after the prayer, but before the Star Spangled Banner - I had to pee. Again. But I didn't want to wander too far from the start...so I just found a post and went behind that. I told the other guy standing there just to avoid eye contact and we would never talk about this again. Nevermind the 3,000 runners who just got up close and personal with my pasty rear, but as long as you avoid eye contact, they can't tag you on Facebook. GENIUS!
I was feeling pretty good, running with my pal Laura. We were both taking it easy - she is running New York in 2 weeks and I am pregnant (no way!?!) so we were just enjoying the day. I found a bush to pee behind around mile 2...and again around mile 3.5...and thus a trend was born. Laura bailed on me around mile 5 (she wasn't feeling so hot) and I was on my own...peeing on the side of the road of a race is way better when you have a buddy, btw.
I peed 7 times during the half marathon. 7 times. That's more than every 2 miles. No wonder my time was 2 hours and 20 minutes even though I felt like I was running a decent pace. Ha. And I had to refill the water bottle I was carrying at every other water station...
Over the course the race, I peed 7 times (7 times!), drank 3-16 ounce bottles of water, a FULL cup of Gatorade every 2 miles and 4 Clif-Blocs. I'm pretty sure this sets a world record of consumption at the half marathon level. I should have gotten an award.
All in all, I had a great race. Going slow wasn't easy, especially at the end when I felt like a rockstar and could have run 8 minute miles on the last few miles, but I know it was the right thing to do. And ultimately, I acheived my goal of finishing in time to get a shirt in my size (this race is notorious of running out of appropriate sizes). I got my shirt (even though it's ugly as sin), enjoyed my morning and felt like I challenged myself a little...and celebrated with crepes. There is little else more enjoyable than eating a delicious reward after a good race.
I love racing. And I love Cletus. Finding the balance is hard. Especially when I have to pee every 15 minutes.
Friday, October 22, 2010
My Name Is Christy And I Have A Problem.
You know those weird things you do when you hope no else is looking? Like, reenacting a conversation with someone out loud? Or picking your nose in the car? Or licking the mayonnaise jar? Or unbuttoning your pants before you are all the way in the bathroom stall? Yeah, those things. Those things are weird and socially unacceptable...but everyone does them. (I'd like to point out that mayonnaise is absolutely and complete repulsive and I neither own a jar of mayonnaise nor have I ever eaten mayonnaise just, but you get the idea).
Well, I have a problem.
Before I got pregnant, it wasn't really a problem...it was more of a feature. But now, it's kind of an issue.
I can pee anywhere.
No seriously. I can pee anywhere. I have no problems with dropping trou in broad daylight on the side of the road. I can pee in lakes. I can pee my pants during a run (if necessary to achieve a PR). I can pee my pants during a run if its pouring down rain because, hey, that's just efficient. I have never tried to pee in (or out of) a moving vehicle, but I am certain that should this necessity ever arise, I will rise to the occasion.
The only place I can't pee is while cycling. This is surprisingly kind of an issue when you have the smallest bladder on the planet and your ride partners don't want to stop every 10 miles.
Alas, this life skill has never let me down. The world is my urinal and I am thankful. Thus far in my pregnancy, this skill has been a bonus, because as we all know, pregnancy is a mean, mean trick that life plays on your bladder and you are constantly thirsty and constantly have to pee. On runs I can just run my normal routes and hope that I dn't get arrested when I pee in the yards of the politicians who live in River Oaks...it's a feature. No need to wait for the port-a-cans the homeless people stink up at the park. The world is out there and needs to be watered!
This feature has never let me down...until yesterday.
Yesterday I was running errands after work when, lo and behold, I had to pee (for the 97 thousandth time that day). As I walked between Michaels and REI, I crossed over a nice patch of grass with some shrubberies and I thought to myself, "Oh, I could just pee here". No, I really considered just peeing in the parking lot of the store.
WTF?
It's 6PM. It's light outside. I'm at a strip mall. It's a small shrubbery. It's illegal, inappropriate and THERE ARE BATHROOMS IN THE FRIGGIN STORE! (The bathrooms are probably in the back or the store and not nearly as convenient as this shrubbery, but seriously? Seriously?!)
Yeah, that was one of those stupid things you hope no one ever sees you do (or think). I was mortified that it even crossed my mind. Apparently I have been too free with my peeing experiences. My bladder is starting to forget what is appropriate and what is not. I think my bladder may need to be held back.
For the record, I did not pee in the parking lot. Nor did I pee in the store. I was too embarrassed. I got my new BOB Ironman Stroller from REI and ran out of there! First baby purchase = COMPLETE!
Well, I have a problem.
Before I got pregnant, it wasn't really a problem...it was more of a feature. But now, it's kind of an issue.
I can pee anywhere.
No seriously. I can pee anywhere. I have no problems with dropping trou in broad daylight on the side of the road. I can pee in lakes. I can pee my pants during a run (if necessary to achieve a PR). I can pee my pants during a run if its pouring down rain because, hey, that's just efficient. I have never tried to pee in (or out of) a moving vehicle, but I am certain that should this necessity ever arise, I will rise to the occasion.
The only place I can't pee is while cycling. This is surprisingly kind of an issue when you have the smallest bladder on the planet and your ride partners don't want to stop every 10 miles.
Alas, this life skill has never let me down. The world is my urinal and I am thankful. Thus far in my pregnancy, this skill has been a bonus, because as we all know, pregnancy is a mean, mean trick that life plays on your bladder and you are constantly thirsty and constantly have to pee. On runs I can just run my normal routes and hope that I dn't get arrested when I pee in the yards of the politicians who live in River Oaks...it's a feature. No need to wait for the port-a-cans the homeless people stink up at the park. The world is out there and needs to be watered!
This feature has never let me down...until yesterday.
Yesterday I was running errands after work when, lo and behold, I had to pee (for the 97 thousandth time that day). As I walked between Michaels and REI, I crossed over a nice patch of grass with some shrubberies and I thought to myself, "Oh, I could just pee here". No, I really considered just peeing in the parking lot of the store.
WTF?
It's 6PM. It's light outside. I'm at a strip mall. It's a small shrubbery. It's illegal, inappropriate and THERE ARE BATHROOMS IN THE FRIGGIN STORE! (The bathrooms are probably in the back or the store and not nearly as convenient as this shrubbery, but seriously? Seriously?!)
Yeah, that was one of those stupid things you hope no one ever sees you do (or think). I was mortified that it even crossed my mind. Apparently I have been too free with my peeing experiences. My bladder is starting to forget what is appropriate and what is not. I think my bladder may need to be held back.
For the record, I did not pee in the parking lot. Nor did I pee in the store. I was too embarrassed. I got my new BOB Ironman Stroller from REI and ran out of there! First baby purchase = COMPLETE!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
It's Ugly. It's REAL Ugly.
I am now 15 weeks pregnant (that's just over 3 months for those of you who don't count in weeks). I thought for sure by now I would have gotten these bigger hooters that everyone talks about, but alas, they are the same sad sacks they have always been. It's tragic really.
I also spent most of Tuesday lamenting my lack of baby bump. I bought a halloween costume a couple of months ago, that I thought would accomodate my growing waistline (I was going as Spock. Ha.), so that even if I just looked fat, I wouldn't be uncomfortable in it. But i've always wanted to be a Slutty German Barmaid. I've never been anything slutty for Halloween before and darn it, I WILL be a barmaid. Someday.
So, on Tuesday, after mucho lamenting, I packed up Tommy and we headed to Frankel's (Houston's best Halloween costume emporium) to get my Slutty German Barmaid costume. While there is still a chance I could get a belly between now and next weekend, there was a bigger chance that Frankel's would run out of the costume...and this was a risk I was not willing to take. So, a Slutty German Barmaid costume I know possess.
Alas, I got it home, once again, after much lamenting about my lack of belly, put it on and lo and behold, I have a belly. I wouldn't call it a Baby Bump per se, but I definitely have a FUPA where I did not have a FUPA before.
Slutty German Barmaids should not have FUPAs. Unless by some stroke of baby love, my FUPA disappears and is replaced by an actual baby bump, I will be singing Crocodile Rock dressed as Spock.
He can hit a mean falseto.
I also spent most of Tuesday lamenting my lack of baby bump. I bought a halloween costume a couple of months ago, that I thought would accomodate my growing waistline (I was going as Spock. Ha.), so that even if I just looked fat, I wouldn't be uncomfortable in it. But i've always wanted to be a Slutty German Barmaid. I've never been anything slutty for Halloween before and darn it, I WILL be a barmaid. Someday.
So, on Tuesday, after mucho lamenting, I packed up Tommy and we headed to Frankel's (Houston's best Halloween costume emporium) to get my Slutty German Barmaid costume. While there is still a chance I could get a belly between now and next weekend, there was a bigger chance that Frankel's would run out of the costume...and this was a risk I was not willing to take. So, a Slutty German Barmaid costume I know possess.
Alas, I got it home, once again, after much lamenting about my lack of belly, put it on and lo and behold, I have a belly. I wouldn't call it a Baby Bump per se, but I definitely have a FUPA where I did not have a FUPA before.
Slutty German Barmaids should not have FUPAs. Unless by some stroke of baby love, my FUPA disappears and is replaced by an actual baby bump, I will be singing Crocodile Rock dressed as Spock.
He can hit a mean falseto.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
How Do I Love Thee?
I love the Ironman. I LOVE the Ironman. Ironman is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Beer is also this proof, but I am a wine girl, so eh, I'll stick with Ironman.
I know it's a for-profit corporation that gets free manual labor on race day and exploits the little guy, yada yada yada...it's like Wal-mart, except that unlike Wal-mart, I will allow you to participate.
I could never quite put into words why I preferred the Ironman branded races over other "iron-distances" races, but having attended Redman full iron distance race, I can safely say that the extra $400 is $400 well spent. Dude, just fork over the dough, get your Ironman branded gear and call it day. Call yourself an Ironman.
Kona was last weekend, my Superbowl, and I spent my evening, on my couch, watching the live feed, and crying as people crossed the finish line. Maybe its the pregnancy hormones. Maybe it's because I always cry when I talk about triathlon...I just love it!
I am super sad to be missing out on IMTexas in May...but Cletus and I will be there to cheer on Papa Blain (who I hope has as much fun as I had in Cozumel!) I'd like to point out that the only purchase we have made thus far for our growing child is the Ironman BOB Stroller. Yeah, it's a problem. I could care less about Gucci and Louis Vuitton, but brand it with an M-dot and I'll pay a fortune for it. Ridiculous.
We will be in Cozumel to cheer on all our friends this year at the race and I can only imagine the jealousy I will have for all of them. I'm green just thinking about it!
I'm not going to do the indoor triathlon this weekend...I'm just gonna suck it up and do the half marathon that Tommy is doing. It will be more fun anyway since everyone I know is doing it. Poor Tommy will finish in about 1:30...and then I will finish sometime before noon. Haha. He will have plenty of time to go get me some lunch before I finish. I miss my speed!!
I know it's a for-profit corporation that gets free manual labor on race day and exploits the little guy, yada yada yada...it's like Wal-mart, except that unlike Wal-mart, I will allow you to participate.
I could never quite put into words why I preferred the Ironman branded races over other "iron-distances" races, but having attended Redman full iron distance race, I can safely say that the extra $400 is $400 well spent. Dude, just fork over the dough, get your Ironman branded gear and call it day. Call yourself an Ironman.
Kona was last weekend, my Superbowl, and I spent my evening, on my couch, watching the live feed, and crying as people crossed the finish line. Maybe its the pregnancy hormones. Maybe it's because I always cry when I talk about triathlon...I just love it!
I am super sad to be missing out on IMTexas in May...but Cletus and I will be there to cheer on Papa Blain (who I hope has as much fun as I had in Cozumel!) I'd like to point out that the only purchase we have made thus far for our growing child is the Ironman BOB Stroller. Yeah, it's a problem. I could care less about Gucci and Louis Vuitton, but brand it with an M-dot and I'll pay a fortune for it. Ridiculous.
We will be in Cozumel to cheer on all our friends this year at the race and I can only imagine the jealousy I will have for all of them. I'm green just thinking about it!
I'm not going to do the indoor triathlon this weekend...I'm just gonna suck it up and do the half marathon that Tommy is doing. It will be more fun anyway since everyone I know is doing it. Poor Tommy will finish in about 1:30...and then I will finish sometime before noon. Haha. He will have plenty of time to go get me some lunch before I finish. I miss my speed!!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Pottery Barn.
I'm embarrassed to admit it, but Pottery Barn threw up in my house. It's like that Friends episode where Rachel and Phoebe live together and Rachel decorates the entire house in Pottery Barn stuff, but has to lie to Phoebe - "oh, this is an antique apothecary table...not at all from Pottery Barn".
Yeah, Pottery Barn threw up in my house.
It's not that I am super into trendy stuff or actually decorate like the PB catalog suggests (although, I would if I could afford it slash had someone to dust all that crap), but it's more that the furniture is just my style. I like clean lines with a bit of whimsy. Basically, Pottery Barn is my furniture haven.
BTW - If you aren't currently reading this blog, you should be.
If I had the patience slash time, I would spend my Saturdays shopping all over town to find cool pieces to make my bedroom set...OR I could just go online and buy some PB stuff and spend the rest of my day lounging like the vegetable I desire to be. New furniture is just a click away!!
We have been meaning to buy new bedroom furniture for about 4 years. The stuff we are currently using is the hideous stuff that Tommy's ex-wife picked out. Not only is it the furniture that the ex-wife picked out (although, this bothers me not at all, it's a good excuse to convince Tommy that we NEED new furniture), but it's ugly and poorly made...and we have moved it approximately 14 times in 4 years. Crappy furniture just can't take that kind of abuse. So it's awful and in awful condition.
Alas, I have finally decided to bite the bullet and just buy the stupid Pottery Barn furniture I have loved for 4 years. I kept waiting for something better to come along so my house wouldn't be all Pottery Barn-ed out (I just don't respect myself!), but in 4 years, I still NEED that bed. It's gonna happen.
In other news, we will FINALLY be able to ditch our current crap...we broke the bed a few years ago (brown chicken brown cow!), but the ugly dressers are up for grabs. We will probably just leave them on the the curb...not sure anyone would buy them.
Phoebe, don't hate me. You know you love it. Darn you Pottery Barn and your overpriced crap!
Yeah, Pottery Barn threw up in my house.
It's not that I am super into trendy stuff or actually decorate like the PB catalog suggests (although, I would if I could afford it slash had someone to dust all that crap), but it's more that the furniture is just my style. I like clean lines with a bit of whimsy. Basically, Pottery Barn is my furniture haven.
BTW - If you aren't currently reading this blog, you should be.
If I had the patience slash time, I would spend my Saturdays shopping all over town to find cool pieces to make my bedroom set...OR I could just go online and buy some PB stuff and spend the rest of my day lounging like the vegetable I desire to be. New furniture is just a click away!!
We have been meaning to buy new bedroom furniture for about 4 years. The stuff we are currently using is the hideous stuff that Tommy's ex-wife picked out. Not only is it the furniture that the ex-wife picked out (although, this bothers me not at all, it's a good excuse to convince Tommy that we NEED new furniture), but it's ugly and poorly made...and we have moved it approximately 14 times in 4 years. Crappy furniture just can't take that kind of abuse. So it's awful and in awful condition.
Alas, I have finally decided to bite the bullet and just buy the stupid Pottery Barn furniture I have loved for 4 years. I kept waiting for something better to come along so my house wouldn't be all Pottery Barn-ed out (I just don't respect myself!), but in 4 years, I still NEED that bed. It's gonna happen.
In other news, we will FINALLY be able to ditch our current crap...we broke the bed a few years ago (brown chicken brown cow!), but the ugly dressers are up for grabs. We will probably just leave them on the the curb...not sure anyone would buy them.
Phoebe, don't hate me. You know you love it. Darn you Pottery Barn and your overpriced crap!
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Pregnancy Glow
I don't have it. I don't know anyone who has had it (sorry friends - I lied to your faces). I know it's still early for me to get it, but really, with all this acne, I just dont see how it would be possible anyway.
I'm a firm believer that the Pregnancy Glow is just a way to make formerly thin people feel better about themselves. It's like when you tell a bride it's good luck if it rains on her wedding day. It's not good luck. It just makes them feel better when it rains on their wedding day. Nevermind that the entire outdoor ceremony is ruined. Hey, it's good luck!
The sheer number of zits I have have to pop each day would challenge a teenagers counting skills. And if I do appear to be glowing, it's because I am as sweaty as a a marathoner...and while a marathoner may APPEAR to be glowing, trust me, they aren't. They are starving. Their cheeks are flushed from sheer starvation and dehydration. I'm sweaty and a flight of stairs is daunting.
I'm not glowing. And it's not good luck if it rains on your wedding day.
And if you say it one more time, I will shoot my next zit into your eye.
********************************
In other news, I found a triathlon that I can race! It's indoor, which is super lame, but that also means that I can do it, so that's super not lame!
Kona is this weekend which means I will be glued to my computer screen for most of the day watching the live feed.
I heard Cletus's heartbeat yesterday afternoon - 164bpm. Tommy heard it a few weeks ago, but the deaf often get delayed gratification. Alas, it has a heart and it beats. Very fastly. Yayy!!
I'm a firm believer that the Pregnancy Glow is just a way to make formerly thin people feel better about themselves. It's like when you tell a bride it's good luck if it rains on her wedding day. It's not good luck. It just makes them feel better when it rains on their wedding day. Nevermind that the entire outdoor ceremony is ruined. Hey, it's good luck!
The sheer number of zits I have have to pop each day would challenge a teenagers counting skills. And if I do appear to be glowing, it's because I am as sweaty as a a marathoner...and while a marathoner may APPEAR to be glowing, trust me, they aren't. They are starving. Their cheeks are flushed from sheer starvation and dehydration. I'm sweaty and a flight of stairs is daunting.
I'm not glowing. And it's not good luck if it rains on your wedding day.
And if you say it one more time, I will shoot my next zit into your eye.
********************************
In other news, I found a triathlon that I can race! It's indoor, which is super lame, but that also means that I can do it, so that's super not lame!
Kona is this weekend which means I will be glued to my computer screen for most of the day watching the live feed.
I heard Cletus's heartbeat yesterday afternoon - 164bpm. Tommy heard it a few weeks ago, but the deaf often get delayed gratification. Alas, it has a heart and it beats. Very fastly. Yayy!!
Friday, October 01, 2010
Cat's Out of the Bag
Now that the cat is FINALLY out of the bag, I can gossip about all the joys and un-joys of being pregnant.
But let's be honest, the joys aren't all that funny, and people's happiness is generally sickening and irritating, so for now let's focus on the horror that is baby bedding.
We don't yet know the gender of our future child, but we do plan on finding out as soon as possible. Yes, I know it's one of life's great surprises, blah blah blah, but really, it's still a surprise when they tell you during the ultrasound. So even if you find out BEFORE that bundle of pooping joy is in your arms, it's STILL a surprise. Take that naysayers!
And since I don't tolerate surprises well anyway, it's better that I find out after a full nights sleep and without holding any precious cargo.
We will find out as soon as a weiner or lack thereof is visible. I'm pretty sure the 50% accuracy of the Chinese Gender Prediction chart has guessed me right anyway, so it's a moo point. A cow's opinion.
Regardless of Cletus's gender, I will likely go the neutral bedding/decor route, so I have been scouring the internet in search of baby bedding that doesn't make me want to hurl. And unfortunately, this is few and far between. Pair this search with morning sickness and I have spent a lot of time praying to the porcelain god.
In my search, I found a lot of this:
Even more of this:
And thank the good Lord, I saw very little of this:
The search continues, despite the efforts of Winnie the Pooh and Pastel Paint. I will overcome you!!
But let's be honest, the joys aren't all that funny, and people's happiness is generally sickening and irritating, so for now let's focus on the horror that is baby bedding.
We don't yet know the gender of our future child, but we do plan on finding out as soon as possible. Yes, I know it's one of life's great surprises, blah blah blah, but really, it's still a surprise when they tell you during the ultrasound. So even if you find out BEFORE that bundle of pooping joy is in your arms, it's STILL a surprise. Take that naysayers!
And since I don't tolerate surprises well anyway, it's better that I find out after a full nights sleep and without holding any precious cargo.
We will find out as soon as a weiner or lack thereof is visible. I'm pretty sure the 50% accuracy of the Chinese Gender Prediction chart has guessed me right anyway, so it's a moo point. A cow's opinion.
Regardless of Cletus's gender, I will likely go the neutral bedding/decor route, so I have been scouring the internet in search of baby bedding that doesn't make me want to hurl. And unfortunately, this is few and far between. Pair this search with morning sickness and I have spent a lot of time praying to the porcelain god.
In my search, I found a lot of this:
Even more of this:
And thank the good Lord, I saw very little of this:
The search continues, despite the efforts of Winnie the Pooh and Pastel Paint. I will overcome you!!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tiger in the Tank!
It's true.
I am with child.
I have a tiger in my tank.
I'm knocked up.
I am harboring a fugitive.
I am developing a crotch parasite.
I have a bun in the oven.
I've been screwed.
Tommy and I found out on August 9th that not only do pregnancy tests NOT take 5 minutes to give a postive result, but that I am also pregnant.
I am addicted to pregnancy tests have been taking at least one a month for forever, much to Tommy's chagrin ("they're expensive!"). I can't help it. But on this particularly joyous day, the test did not stop at one pink line...but immediately (and I mean IMMEDIATELY) registered 2 pink lines. If I hadn't already peed in the toilet, I would have just peed my pants.
I called Tommy, he came home (where I presented him with two pee filled sticks...he was thrilled) and we went to dinner to celebrate and gossip about our impending bundle of joy...AHH!
The signs that I should have seen:
The first sign that indicated I might be pregnant is when ShopItToMe had a 1/2 off sale on skinny jeans and the only size they had in stock was mine. It was FATE! Of course I purchased them and took them to get them altered. Only fate would have you alter your first pair of skinny jeans on the day you find out you're pregnant. So now, of course, I can't return them. So, I've pretty much been wearing skinny jeans every single day and plan to squeeze myself into them until I can no longer suck in my gut anymore.
The second sign was that Kroger had Black Box wine on sale the previous weekend. Tommy and I, being the classy folk that we are, purchased 6 (yes, 6) boxes (yes, boxes) of wine (yes, that's 6 BOXES of wine), because well, they were on sale and if you buy 6 you get an additional 10% off.
The third sign was that I joined a 3rd gym the week prior to finding out I was "with child". Luckily, I joined this gym for it's pool and since I plan on swimming up until the day I give birth, this wasn't a terrible move...but lately I've been to disgustingly sick to even think about swimming. So I am a member of 3 gyms...and I haven't been to a single one of these gyms in the last 12 weeks.
And the fourth and final sign was that I accidentally purchased a pair of childrens shoes. I think this is the universe telling me that my child will be punk/grunge. This does not bode well for me.
Alas, despite all these signs, I was still surprised when that second pink line appeared on the stick. Nobody gets lucky enough to find 1/2 off skinny jeans or sales on wine all in the same week...unless they won't be able to use them. Damn you Universe!!
****************
Now for some rules:
Do not touch my belly. Unless I like you. But even then, it's best not to touch the belly. I will remove your arms with my teeth.
Do not use the words "preggo" or "preggy" or "hubby". Unless you are 5. If you are older than 5, it is time to learn to speak properly. Update: This also includes "preggers" and any other variations of fake words.
Do not tell me your labor horror stories. Not sure who you think you are helping here.
****************
In other news: When training for Ironman, I compared the training to pregnancy and the race to labor. The rules for me racing Ironman were similar to the rules listed above. No touching the belly, no "preggo" or "hubby", and no racing horror stories. So, so far, I'm right on the mark!!
But really, so far, it's been pretty similar. I'm on information overload, the result is still too far away to really grasp, I feel like total horse sh1t and I am exhausted. This is all pretty much like Ironman!
Speaking of Ironman, I doubt I will be racing IMTX in May. While I do planning on keeping up my volume (as much as possible), I have no intent of keeping it up to the level that would be required to complete an Ironman. In addition to that, after pushing a baby out of my vagina in April, I seriously doubt that sitting on a very small bike seat for 6+ hours in May will sound appealling. Soooo, that's in the toilet. I plan on appealling to the WTC to see if I can defer until 2012, but even then, I'm not sure I will be ready to race with an infant either. We will see!! Either way, Cletus the Fetus and I will be there on race day to cheer on Daddy Blain and all our friends!
I am with child.
I have a tiger in my tank.
I'm knocked up.
I am harboring a fugitive.
I am developing a crotch parasite.
I have a bun in the oven.
I've been screwed.
Tommy and I found out on August 9th that not only do pregnancy tests NOT take 5 minutes to give a postive result, but that I am also pregnant.
I am addicted to pregnancy tests have been taking at least one a month for forever, much to Tommy's chagrin ("they're expensive!"). I can't help it. But on this particularly joyous day, the test did not stop at one pink line...but immediately (and I mean IMMEDIATELY) registered 2 pink lines. If I hadn't already peed in the toilet, I would have just peed my pants.
I called Tommy, he came home (where I presented him with two pee filled sticks...he was thrilled) and we went to dinner to celebrate and gossip about our impending bundle of joy...AHH!
The signs that I should have seen:
The first sign that indicated I might be pregnant is when ShopItToMe had a 1/2 off sale on skinny jeans and the only size they had in stock was mine. It was FATE! Of course I purchased them and took them to get them altered. Only fate would have you alter your first pair of skinny jeans on the day you find out you're pregnant. So now, of course, I can't return them. So, I've pretty much been wearing skinny jeans every single day and plan to squeeze myself into them until I can no longer suck in my gut anymore.
The second sign was that Kroger had Black Box wine on sale the previous weekend. Tommy and I, being the classy folk that we are, purchased 6 (yes, 6) boxes (yes, boxes) of wine (yes, that's 6 BOXES of wine), because well, they were on sale and if you buy 6 you get an additional 10% off.
The third sign was that I joined a 3rd gym the week prior to finding out I was "with child". Luckily, I joined this gym for it's pool and since I plan on swimming up until the day I give birth, this wasn't a terrible move...but lately I've been to disgustingly sick to even think about swimming. So I am a member of 3 gyms...and I haven't been to a single one of these gyms in the last 12 weeks.
And the fourth and final sign was that I accidentally purchased a pair of childrens shoes. I think this is the universe telling me that my child will be punk/grunge. This does not bode well for me.
Alas, despite all these signs, I was still surprised when that second pink line appeared on the stick. Nobody gets lucky enough to find 1/2 off skinny jeans or sales on wine all in the same week...unless they won't be able to use them. Damn you Universe!!
****************
Now for some rules:
Do not touch my belly. Unless I like you. But even then, it's best not to touch the belly. I will remove your arms with my teeth.
Do not use the words "preggo" or "preggy" or "hubby". Unless you are 5. If you are older than 5, it is time to learn to speak properly. Update: This also includes "preggers" and any other variations of fake words.
Do not tell me your labor horror stories. Not sure who you think you are helping here.
****************
In other news: When training for Ironman, I compared the training to pregnancy and the race to labor. The rules for me racing Ironman were similar to the rules listed above. No touching the belly, no "preggo" or "hubby", and no racing horror stories. So, so far, I'm right on the mark!!
But really, so far, it's been pretty similar. I'm on information overload, the result is still too far away to really grasp, I feel like total horse sh1t and I am exhausted. This is all pretty much like Ironman!
Speaking of Ironman, I doubt I will be racing IMTX in May. While I do planning on keeping up my volume (as much as possible), I have no intent of keeping it up to the level that would be required to complete an Ironman. In addition to that, after pushing a baby out of my vagina in April, I seriously doubt that sitting on a very small bike seat for 6+ hours in May will sound appealling. Soooo, that's in the toilet. I plan on appealling to the WTC to see if I can defer until 2012, but even then, I'm not sure I will be ready to race with an infant either. We will see!! Either way, Cletus the Fetus and I will be there on race day to cheer on Daddy Blain and all our friends!
Thursday, September 09, 2010
War of the Roses.
Here in H-town, there is a morning radio show on 104.1 with hosts Roula and Ryan. I do not normally listen to 104.1 because the music is very teeny bopper and terrible. It's something Janelle would like. :) A little too much Justin Beiber for my tastes. But on Thursdays, magical, magical Thursdays, they do the War of the Roses.
War of the Roses is a segment where a woman (usually a woman, but it can be a man) calls in and fears her man is cheating on her. Roula then pretends to be a florist and calls the man to offer him a dozen long stem roses. When the man ultimately gives them to a woman other than his beloved, they get to air all their dirty laundry on the radio. And it is excellent.
Today, a man called in, concerned that his newly thin and attractive wife had spent the majority of the holiday weekend getting wasted with her girlfriends and was therefore too hungover to spend time with him and their 3 children. Roula called the wife, offered her a weekend getaway with a couples massage and asked the names that needed to be on a reservation. The wife asked if she could think about who she would want to bring. Poor husband. (I know I shouldn't get joy out of other's people misery, but normal people don't call radio shows to air their dirty laundry, so I'm over it) Obviously the husband was upset.
They began discussing why she didn't want to go out with him and it ultimately came down to the fact that he wears jean shorts.
She doesn't love him anymore because he wears jean shorts.
And has Doc Martens. (Which btw, I think are coming back in style. If you wait long enough...)
I immediately called Tommy and let him know that a call from Roula is in his future if he continues to sport the jorts.
He was very unconcerned.
War of the Roses is a segment where a woman (usually a woman, but it can be a man) calls in and fears her man is cheating on her. Roula then pretends to be a florist and calls the man to offer him a dozen long stem roses. When the man ultimately gives them to a woman other than his beloved, they get to air all their dirty laundry on the radio. And it is excellent.
Today, a man called in, concerned that his newly thin and attractive wife had spent the majority of the holiday weekend getting wasted with her girlfriends and was therefore too hungover to spend time with him and their 3 children. Roula called the wife, offered her a weekend getaway with a couples massage and asked the names that needed to be on a reservation. The wife asked if she could think about who she would want to bring. Poor husband. (I know I shouldn't get joy out of other's people misery, but normal people don't call radio shows to air their dirty laundry, so I'm over it) Obviously the husband was upset.
They began discussing why she didn't want to go out with him and it ultimately came down to the fact that he wears jean shorts.
She doesn't love him anymore because he wears jean shorts.
And has Doc Martens. (Which btw, I think are coming back in style. If you wait long enough...)
I immediately called Tommy and let him know that a call from Roula is in his future if he continues to sport the jorts.
He was very unconcerned.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
The Universe.
The universe is against me.
Today, I overslept because I accidentally set my alarm for 4:30PM instead of AM. I awoke at 6:15AM, fully refreshed for the day ahead. And missed my workout.
I took it in stride - obviously my body wanted more sleep. Darn!
I packed my gym bag with two options for the afternoon - I could either bike at a spin class or hit the pool.
I arrived at work only to realize that I forgot tennis shoes (I blame Tommy for cleaning the house and hiding my shoes in the garage, "where they belong". No good deed goes unpunished!). Sooo, cycling was out. Guess I'm going to the pool!
And then it rained all day. Which means the pool is closed. [shaking fist at Tropical Storm Hermoine]
3 attempts to work out today and all 3 were shot down. The universe obviously wants me to sit on the couch, eat a giant vat of ice cream, and call it day.
Done and done.
Today, I overslept because I accidentally set my alarm for 4:30PM instead of AM. I awoke at 6:15AM, fully refreshed for the day ahead. And missed my workout.
I took it in stride - obviously my body wanted more sleep. Darn!
I packed my gym bag with two options for the afternoon - I could either bike at a spin class or hit the pool.
I arrived at work only to realize that I forgot tennis shoes (I blame Tommy for cleaning the house and hiding my shoes in the garage, "where they belong". No good deed goes unpunished!). Sooo, cycling was out. Guess I'm going to the pool!
And then it rained all day. Which means the pool is closed. [shaking fist at Tropical Storm Hermoine]
3 attempts to work out today and all 3 were shot down. The universe obviously wants me to sit on the couch, eat a giant vat of ice cream, and call it day.
Done and done.
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