The post brought to you by Benny's memory, because mine is THE SUCK.
Really... week 29, is it? I only ask because every day I feel like a brick fell out of the sky, landed on my temporal lobe and gave me amnesia every five minutes.
So, Benny... he who is currently wrapped around the finger of a fetus - did you know that was even possible?... just rattled of a list off what happened in the pregnancy this week. I believe him only because my Benny has only ever lied to me about the presence of chocolate in the house, and whether or not spiders have ever set foot in our bedroom. And even if I can't remember the exact answers to the above issues, I know I still love him for lying to me about it.
Anyhoo... I give you Week 29, According To Benny:
According to Benny, my energy has been good... I even tackled the garden and the crab grass again, so as not to bring down the value of the properties surrounding us. However, he has noticed that when I have a big day of gardening or picking my nose while passing judgement on the neighbors walking their dogs, I tend to hit a wall BIG TIME the next day.
Today, for example, after a great weekend that included back-t0-back BBQ's and a visit from Bart, Helen and the boys, and my first baby shower... well, it wasn't so much that I hit a wall, but that a wall hit me. Right between the eyes. And I had to take 1/2 day sick leave so I could go home and sleep it off. I didn't help the situation this morning by forgetting whether or not I'd taken my Zantac for the day. This is because I woke up at 5:30 and couldn't sleep one more minute, so I decided to get up and have breakfast. Then I went back to bed at 7:30 and slept until 8:45... just in time to see the family off to the airport. And at that point, everything that had happened prior to 8:45 was a complete blur. So, it's entirely possible that I took the pill, but who knows?
So, in an effort to not OD on the stuff, I figured I'd wait and see how I felt and if I started to feel acid-refluxy, I'd know I hadn't taken it. It was a fool proof plan until at 10:30 when I started to feel sick. But then I was still sure I'd taken it and maybe I was just sick because I had eaten nothing but bread pudding and funeral potatoes all weekend and WHO WOULDN'T BE SICK?
By 1 p.m., I knew it was a lost cause so I headed home and hit the sack. I discovered that if I didn't move too much, the vomit stayed down in my stomach. And I still didn't take the Zantac. Cuz that would have been admitting defeat. Yep. That's me. The bright one. We only hope that Tweet gets her brains from her father and her stubborness from me.
Anyway, I held out until 3:30 and then decided that: SCREW IT... This misery cannot be good for the baby. I felt so much better afterwards that I realized that, yep... hadn't taken the pill this morning. AND IT DESTROYED MY WHOLE DAY.
Acording to Benny, I'm not getting up nearly as much in the middle of the night to pee. I'm down from 6 trips to the bathroom at night to 1 or maybe 2 depending on the Sprite situation that day. Oh, and btw... before I forget, can someone explain to Benny that the Sprite is for the pregnant woman who doesn't get to drink the latte's that he's gulping down and not for him? And to please stop screwing the cap on so tight that I break a tooth trying to open it? Thanks.
According to Benny, watermelon is still clutch in week 29. But I've become particular about my watermelon. And watermelon that does not toe the line is quickly disposed of and the husband is sent on another watermelon mission to The Center of the Universe with orders not to come back unless there are plenty of bee stings on the watermelon (indicates level of sweetness). Or all hell will break loose.
According to Benny... my toes are still chapped. Apparently, he's noticed and wants to bring it to my attention since I can no longer see my toes. I say the answer to this is a certain father-to-be lotioning up the chapped toes so neither he nor others in my life will be quite so offended.
According to Benny, the belly really firmed up this week and Tweet is kicking non-stop. Which is really very cool. Really. And I'm seriously not even going to complain about it keeping me up because I'm getting so used to it that it helps me fall asleep... except when she grabs both sides of the womb and pulls them together like she's attempting to close the curtains in a hotel room and the two ends just. don't. meet.
According to Benny, my lungs are way smaller than last week. Dr. Benny made this prognosis when we went for a walk in the neighborhood and I repeatedly had to ask him to slow down cuz I was about to pass out dead on the sidewalk.
According to Benny, my hair has continued to grow long and luscious. Er... as long and luscious as I've ever been known to accomplish. My hair has an unwritten rule that all growth must stop just past the shoulders. But I think he's most excited about the fact that right now I'm losing exactly zero hair in the shower... which means that our pipes are getting a big break right now.
According to Benny, I might have had a teeny-tiny meltdown in Babies-R-Us (aka: Whey Paychecks Go To Die). They had called to inform us that our changing table was in and (hooray!) ready for pickup. But when we got there, they rolled out a 6-foot dresser... and how in the world do you expect us to change a diaper on a 6-foot dresser? And this was NOT our mistake because I know what I ordered and it was not a 6-foot dresser!!! OMG! IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD! HOW WILL TWEET SURVIVE IN MY WOMB KNOWING THAT WE DON'T YET HAVE A CHANGING TABLE FOR HER???
*Ahem*
That may, or may not, have been the way it went down. But either way, it was awfully close to reality.
According to Benny, week 29 was awesome because it was so freaking cold in O-Town. Like, highs. of. 80. cold. THIS IS HOW ALL AUGUSTS SHOULD BE. EVERYWHERE. It was beautiful... so beautiful in fact that I actually got up and made myself a hot chocolate three days in a row. It's football weather... only without the requirement of going to a football game to enjoy it.
According to Benny, I make way too much noise getting in and out of the car, or bending down to pet the cat. Wait until delivery... I'll show him some noise.
According to Benny, pregnant women should not have to mop the floor or clean the house. Or, was that according to me and forced upon an unsuspecting Benny? I can't remember. Just know that Benny jumped on that particular grenade for me this weekend and I cannot thank him enough.
And finally, according to me, I made the best decision of my life when I married Benny and decided to bear his children. Tweet cannot possibly have a better father and in 10 weeks? You all will see first hand what I mean.
2 comments:
Thank goodness Benny is around to reply the tape for you when you black out.
The lost trimester.
we never had a changing table because big j said they were useless so both kids got diapered in whatever place happened to be available. talk about hygienic. seriously.
i'm thinking that maybe you should invest in some drain-o, because i'm going to let you in on a little secret - once tweet makes her grand appearance, all that hair on your head will come out. in handfuls. but you'll be so busy that you won't even notice. i promise!!
love you! rub the baby girl for me, please!
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