Don't Be THAT Mom.

I am 8 weeks away from having this baby. I can’t wait because I want to see what and who this kid is. Anyone who is newly pregnant or is thinking of becoming pregnant, I can’t urge you strongly enough to NOT find out what you are having. The wondering is the main factor getting me through these last 2 months.

I noticed when you ask other moms if they found out what they were having and the answer is “yes” they ALWAYS follow it up with “we wanted to prepare.” You don’t owe me an excuse. You can admit that you just couldn’t wait. I don’t believe the preparation BS for one second. You just WANTED TO KNOW. That is fine. Own it. I am surprised that I was able to do this without caving in. No excuses play like a champion.

Another thing I noticed about pregnant/new mothers is that they lie their heads off about everything. If I didn’t have the most honest friends and mother in the world, I wouldn’t know ANYTHING about all the gross shit that happens in pregnancy. Moms are SO obsessed with acting perfect. It’s so bizarre. NOBODY ENJOYS EVERY SECOND OF PREGNANCY. Want to know the things that have happened to me? My boobs leak. If I walk for more than 15 minutes it feels like I have balls. Recently I have these 10-15 minute insane streams of thought where I think I ruined my life by getting pregnant. I don’t like it when the baby hiccups for hours on end. My hips ache. I have trouble breathing when I exercise. I can’t really shave my legs at all. I have bacne. Want me to go on?

I guess I just don’t understand why mothers pretend that these things don’t happen. Is it for fear of seeming like a bad mother? Well guess what….you can post as many pictures of your happy baby on Facebook as you want….I know that one time his bottle burned his mouth. Or you let him sit in a shitty diaper for 2 hours before realizing it. Or he fell out of the swing. I am not saying post “OMG my kid drank anti-freeze” on the Internet for the world to see, but Jesus Christ, the amount of expecting and current moms judging one another and acting like they are perfect is sickening to me. I have no idea what I am going to do with this baby when it comes out, and that is perfectly fine. Right now, it drives around all day with me listening to Drake because I am white and 29. We will probably just continue doing that.  My baby will be just as great as yours.

I think my main point of all of this is that I am not a fan of pregnant and new mothers who are SUCH MOMS. Like…keep a little of your identity. If your biggest accomplishment is keeping your mom fails a secret so that you can judge others, you are the absolute worst. I may have a child, but I am not infallible. I am a mess. Kids need to see that their mothers are people with likes, and opinions and senses of humor. You can be an excellent mother without jamming a stick up your ass. From what I have seen, a lot of people opted for the stick.

Not Boring Post....I guess?

I write a lot considering how infrequently I post anything. I always think I have this great idea, start writing, lose focus and just end up with some piece of shit paragraph about how I drank 4 Gatorades in 2 hours (I did.) I am always afraid that my writing is so boring which I now realize is such a 2002 fear. We are living in Facebook time. People will read anything. Like...almost every day on my newsfeed there is a wordsearch that 4,965 people comment on saying the first 3 words they saw, so this blog definitely cant be the worst part of your day. I mean, it’s no “ Where would you have disintegrated in Hiroshima?” quiz, but I think it’s pretty OK.

As far as this baby goes, I honestly don’t have that much to report. The growing is constant. The cute, pregnant lady I had pictured that I would be for my entire life does not exist. I have always been giant and now I am just more giant. I am definitely not exploding like Jessica Simpson (I haven’t even eaten one PopTart with butter on it), but it is hard to be cute when you are 5’8 with a size 10 shoe to begin with. The enormous belly doesn’t help my lack of adorableness. In my next life I am coming back as one of those white, baby seals. Or the smallest, youngest member of the U.S. Olympic gymnastics team who steals America’s heart. Tiniest white seal in a leotard would be the best option.

One interesting thing is that we do not know if Baby Ray is a boy or a girl. For some reason this drives people to insanity. Everyone thinks that we absolutely must have a perfect pink or blue room ready for our legally blind bundle of joy that doesn’t know one thing about anything. Babies can’t see! Babies are so dumb! They also don’t really leave the house and do you want to know how I dress when I don’t leave my house? Wicked ugly.  Of course we are going to have a nursery for our baby and buy it nice, comfortable clothing, but I can’t see myself, 15 years down the road, sitting in family counseling because my kid didn’t have a “ Handsome Like Daddy” onesie smashed onto his body one minute after birth. That being said, I completely understand wanting to know what your baby is because I am so, so, so nosy and terrible by nature. But guess what?  I am always happy and I always click “like” when you announce your baby’s gender on Facebook, so just let me have my gray room filled with weird, beige bunny clothes. Thanks.

So, overall, I feel great. I still do my regular workouts (though a little modified) and I walk a few days a week. My boobs are so weird but I don’t want to talk about it. My appetite is low to normal with the occasional “ Eat like Magic Johnson’s son” day thrown in (watch Rich Kids of Beverly Hills.) My weight gain is actually low (in a good way, not a scary way) which I will casually mention to anyone who will listen until the day I die. My arms, face and neck have since depuffed from the pictures taken of me at my cousin Meg’s wedding when I was 12 weeks pregnant #blessed. Everything is good!

I apologize if reading this took time away from finding out what happens if you stare at 3 dots for 15 seconds and then look quickly at a picture of a donkey wearing a dildo on its head. Sometimes the best things come to those who wait.

The Bad and the Ugly

I am so blind. I can’t even read anything I type. I have to squint and pull on my eye to move my contact lens around, it’s awful. If my kid is blind I will know it is my fault and I will feel like a bad mother. Glasses babies are cute as hell, but to never know what it’s like to just wake up and SEE??? It’s unfair. Trust me. If I ever got stranded on an island or like, at the gas station one mile from my house, with no contacts or glasses….I would be dead. I would just flop down on the beach, or in the middle of Route 1, and will myself to death. I can’t put my kid through that.

Passing on bad traits to my child is something I think about a lot. I only need 5 minutes of silence to start thinking about death and diseases and tons of other tragedies, so 18 weeks has given me plenty of time to ponder all the ways my kid could suck. In fact, I even made a list.

 

1)      Blindness – As I said, glasses babies are cute. But once the baby turns into a kid who goes to school, anything a bespectacled child says is automatically a billion times more annoying than if a non-glasses kid says it. Think about it. Normal kid says “What is 2+3?” and you’re like “ 5…good question.” Glasses kid asks same question and you’re like “Whyyyy are you Urkel?” Major problem.

2)      Bossiness – Oh my God am I bossy. I will boss the living shit out of anyone. Do I have any idea when I’m doing it? Nope. I mean, I am 28 and I just kind of, sort of, started to realize that I am bossy because my brother Mike mentions it every 5 minutes. Who knows how many people hate me at this point, probably millions.

3)      Food Obsession – This speaks for itself. I could give birth to a fatty round head. Which leads me to…

4)      Round head…..again, self-explanatory.

5)      BAD AT MATH. SO BAD. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BORROW. LIKE….IN SUBTRACTION…CAN’T DO IT.

6)      Loud – Don’t ask me if I know how loud I’m talking….I don’t.

7)      General Lack of Empathy – I don’t cry at Sarah McLachlan commercials. I would cry at a Sara McLaughlin commercial if she was in despair, but I don’t have the ability to really think beyond my circle. Don’t judge me, I’m not evil. I just am not like my sister who would cry over a dead chipmunk in South Korea. #blacksoul

 

I could go on, but I think I have made myself look bad enough. I guess I pose this question….is it normal to fear your bad traits may get passed to your kid? Another question…should I do a post of Nick’s bad traits? HA. I could have him write it about himself, but you wouldn’t get to read it until after my baby had already grown up with the roundest head, fattest body, F’s in math and the soul of a demon. Nick performs daily tasks at the same speed as the Queen of England.

I am the Mother of a 3 Inch Baby

It is a weird feeling when you realize that you are old enough for pregnancy to be a good thing. But here I am! Old, married, knocked up and there is nothing anybody can do about it. I still say knocked up even though I am pretty sure the father is my very own husband, Nick. And I still make jokes like that even though I am technically 3/10 of a mom and should be 3/10 on my way to a Subaru and a bowl cut. WELCOME TO YOUR WEIRD LIFE, LIL RAY RAY!!!!!

Finding out you are pregnant is really strange. You are so happy but also so confused even though the confusion doesn’t make any sense. I found out that I wasn’t the only one in the room in particularly bizarre fashion, too.  I don’t think that will surprise anybody. I had been feeling terrible and had extreme, supersonic level heartburn, so I decided a pregnancy test might be in order. I peed on the stick, looked at it for one second, saw one line and threw it out. The next day I saw it in the trash with 2 lines. I don’t even have the patience to focus for 3 minutes on a pregnancy test. I can’t wait to devote a million years to a child.

Telling Nick involved zero fanfare. I handed him the test and made a weird face. He was so elated which was cute because, again, I said I am PRETTY sure I know he’s the father. His instantaneous happiness brought me from my state of quiet panic into his world of blatant excitement and I returned his physically and proverbially giant smile with my normal sized one. Precious moments.

Currently I am nearing the end of my first trimester, which I hear is a good thing. I am so nauseated constantly and I can’t wait for the day when I can eat normally. There are several times every day where I feel my only two options are CheezIts or death. Having your life on the line so many times a day would be exhausting for anyone, let alone a mildly in shape pregnant girl with questionable sanity and morals.

For the most part I have been lucky. I have not vomited to the point where the vomit has actually left my body. My heartburn only feels like I swallowed dynamite sometimes. I get only 2-3 new pimples a day (could be like, 4.) The nausea is constant, but I can still function as long as I permanently look angry. And finally, I am only one week away from this supposed kick ass, wonderland called the 2^nd trimester. Oh, I forgot the worst symptom….I am SO short of breath all the time that people are scared of me. YES.

I hope to be able to post updates here and there, but for the love of God don’t hold me to any sort of schedule. I am not the first person on Earth to have a baby, so I don’t think that the details of my pregnancy are something you would be beating down the door for. Also, I can barely take out my one contact lens without a taking a water break and I am considering being Med Flighted somewhere after the amount of sweating this one post caused me. Low expectations lead to pleasant surprises.

In all seriousness though, I think you have to have a sense of humor in pregnancy and parenthood to get through it without turning into an awful person to be around. You can’t let becoming a mom change you into a boring idiot who is all of a sudden offended by everything. All jokes aside, we are so excited for this baby, but neither Nick nor I plan on changing who we are to become what some book says we should be. This baby will probably know 2 Chainz before it can even count to 2 and guess what…..it will turn out just fine.

Hopefully I post again before 2015. But don’t hold your breath. It scares people when you are gasping for air I’ve heard.