Thursday, October 25, 2007

The Bummer About Being Pregnant

So yeah, I’ve been tired and yeah, I have to go pee all the damn time and yeah, I am a pickle-eating freak (thanks to thee, O Pregnancy Gods, for the advent of the kosher dill), and yeah, none of my jeans fit anymore, but you know what? I am really happy about having a baby and thus don’t like to complain too much about these little annoyances. But do you know what the worst part about being pregnant is?

No swinging on the pole, y’all. I miss Shaft. Terribly. Shaft has been carefully unscrewed from the ceiling hook on which he usually resides and is currently collecting dust in the garage. It’s so sad.

I spent so many fun-filled nights with Shaft and some loud angry stripper music as my only entertainment, and it was good. Shaft could keep me entertained for HOURS with nary a break. I would navigate that pole with seven-inch clear heels on like it ain’t no thang, all the while getting a good workout (and some bruises here and there but that’s why God invented knee pads) and feeling like I had my own private adult-version of monkey bars in my house. I owe a lot to Shaft. Shaft made me feel like a million bucks. Shaft sneakily developed my core strength under the guise of fun, something VERY difficult to pull off. Shaft was the life of my bachelorette party and unselfishly shared his gifts with many of my friends that night and on subsequent nights. And Shaft probably helped conceive my child. Talk about a fertility specialist!

And now Shaft leans against a wall of the garage, surrounded by hordes of macho tools and discarded lumber who are likely threatened by Shaft’s impressive size and luster, and more than a little jealous that, unlike themselves, Shaft had, until now, enjoyed a comfortable place in our living room for many months. Let’s have a listen:

Hammer: Oh, well will you look at the ladies’ man all sad and pathetic now that he’s not living the cushy life. Hey fellas, what say we give Mr. Shiny there a garage welcome, eh?

Cordless Drill: Being that shiny obviously means he’s overcompensating for something. What could that thing possibly be good for? Can he hang a picture? Can he assemble something from Ikea?

Screwdrivers: Hey Pretty Boy, you miss having your mommy rub you down with alcohol every day? Wah wah! Sissy!

(Shaft leans and takes it all in, then quietly turns to one of the nearby lavender dryer sheets.)

Shaft: Psst, hey, Beautiful. Your luscious scent is absolutely intoxicating, you little dryer minx, you. Why don’t you come over here and slide ever so slowly down my shiny self and wrap yourself around my girth. You will feel so sexy and alive, I promise you.

Lavender Dryer Sheet: Tee-hee! I don’t know. I might hurt myself.

Shaft: My Pretty. I will catch you if you fall. I just want to be close to you, my little divine herbaceous satchel of love. Please come to me.

Hammer: Hey uh lady, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It ain’t safe. You don’t know where he’s been.

Screwdrivers: Yeah, he’s a poser, don’t listen to him. You’re more safe with us Tools.

Lavender Dryer Sheet (to the Tools): What the hell do you guys know? You’re a bunch of f@cking tools!

Lavender Dryer Sheet pops out of her box and onto Shaft, sliding and twirling down his welcoming shaft. (Okay, yeah, that sounds really dirty, but come on, it just flowed so well.) She lets out a huge happy sigh at the end of her twirl, gives the finger to the Tools, and curls up to sleep at Shaft’s feet.

The Tools, shamed into silence, sulk back off to the toolbox to plot Shaft’s demise. Obviously this threat to their masculinity will never do.

Shaft leans with a little grin on his face, a nice lavender dryer sheet now keeping his feet warm.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Quote of the Day

I don't do these very often, but I thought this one was just so profound and a really important truth to remember, always.

“The roses bloom so beautifully because they are not trying to become lotuses. Andthe lotuses bloom so beautifully because they have not heard the legends about other flowers. Everything in nature goes so beautifully in accord, because nobody is trying to compete with anybody, nobody is trying to become anybody else. Everything is the way it is. Just see the point! Just be yourself and remember you cannot be anything else, whatsoever you do. All effort is futile. You have to be just yourself……”

--Osho, Indian Mystic

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Salvador Dalí

In the interest of getting my butt out of the house and doing as many interesting things as possible before I am confined to the small world of diapers and nursing, I took it upon myself on a recent Sunday to go with Trish and Miata to the Salvador Dalí exhibit at LACMA.

While there are those who may assert that viewage of such freaky-deakiness while preggers may warp my developing child’s little sensibilities, I decided to take a walk on the wild side and go ahead and take in the freakiness in person. I was not disappointed.

Aside from a voluminous collection of paintings, there were also film clips playing of the artist’s various collaborations with filmmakers of his day -- in particular, an animated film that the artist worked on with Walt Disney. I got teared up watching the thing, it was just so very magnificent and so sad that it was never before released to the public. It was like watching a Dalí painting come to life for fifteen minutes. Afterward, we sat outside and talked about what we had seen. I don’t know about you guys, but after I see something like that, I tend to look at the world a little differently, at people a little differently. Those beautiful paintings existed in that man’s mind before they became reality, that regular guy with the crazy handlebar moustache and crazy eyes. And look what he contributed to the world.

Well, I recommend you see the exhibit fast before it is gone. It will only be there until January 6. So get your freaky on.

Los Angeles County Museum of Art
5905 Wilshire Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90036
(323) 857-6000

Friday, October 12, 2007

Bumpwatch '07

Thought you might like to see the most recent photo of the little munchkin squatting in my bell-ay.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Isn’t it cute? I think it looks like a little teddy bear. When this picture was taken, the little bugger flung its arms up in the air as if to say “Yo ma, how about more pickles up in this here wombizzle?” Oh yeah, can’t get enough of those kosher dills. The lame cliché turns out to be true in my case.

The ultrasound guy told me that the most dramatic period of growth has happened in the last few weeks. Which would explain why I have felt like such complete and utter shite. But I’m starting to feel better now – a little more energetic, a little more productive. Little Pat has been sucking the life right out of me. I’m looking forward to entering the second trimester, aka The Golden Trimester I’ve heard so much about. Then we can find out the sex and I can start referring to it in more human terms. Only a few more weeks!

Monday, October 01, 2007

Da Bump

In a Valley Girl first, I would like to share a post with you that was written several weeks ago, but for reasons that will become clear, could not share with you until today.

Here is the post from my Past Self:

God, it is so hard for me not to tell you guys this. But you know how it is – you’re supposed to wait until you’re absolutely sure everything is fine until you spread the word. And since my Future Self has decided the time is right to let the cat out of the bag, here is the big news:

I am pregs.
Knocked up.
Totally sperminated.
Smuggling fetus.
In the family way.
Got a bun in the oven.
With child.
Maternally accelerating.
Living la vida preggo.
The object of Bumpwatch ’07.
Packing grandchildren.

Isn’t it great? The man and I think so. Excitement is all around us and it’s so hard to think about anything else. Here are my symptoms thus far:

1. Hungry. No, make that starving. All. The. Time.

2. Tired. No, make that exhausted. All. The. Time.

3. Have to pee. All. The. Well, you get the idea.

It’s been hard not to post much lately, but the fact is, there is just not much to tell. When you are tired all the time, you pretty much have no life or goofy stories to share, so I have been uncharacteristically mum. But all that is about to change.

Okay, back to my present-day self now:

By way of details, I am now eight weeks along or two-thirds of the way through the first trimester. We have had the first ultrasound and seen the little bugger and heard the heartbeat. Wow. Up until that point, I was just “pregnant”. Sitting there hearing the heartbeat, it suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks that there is a little person in there, doing its best to kick ass. It was pretty major. There was some leaking of the tear ducts.

We don’t get to know the sex until sometime in the second trimester I think, so in the meantime, we are referring to it as “Pat” a la vintage SNL, since we don’t know what the hell it is.

Today was a good day. I was still tired, sure, but not “feeling like I’m going to die” tired, and that is a definite step up. I do routinely thank the Pregnancy Gods that I have been blessedly free of morning sickness since I cannot imagine being barfy on top of the exhaustion. God, that would suck.

And being the only sober one at a festive occasion? Not so bad after all. I attended a family wedding with the hub over the weekend (with a four-hour open bar!) and felt blessedly free to be a goofy spaz on the dance floor because I didn’t have that paranoid “Oh my god, I’m Drunky Drunkerson, I’m going to do something inappropriate and be mortified with myself tomorrow” feeling the whole time. It was actually quite liberating. And there was the added “heh-heh” bonus of knowing that I would wake up the next morning feeling totally fine, whilst everyone else would be cursing the day alcohol was invented. So we got a late-night pizza that me and my spawn very much enjoyed, and I gave Pat a little rub on the belly and thanked it for keeping Mommy in line tonight.

And the next morning I woke up feeling like a million bucks. I think this pregnancy thing is going to be pretty awesome. I’ll keep you posted.