wow the 12th week is just as long and draaaaawn out as the others

Let's get something straight just because you get to wear a white coat doesn't make a you a doctor. In fact, if you'll take a minute to stop arguing with me about the existence of Listeria and look down you'll notice the word Publix monogrammed there. No you aren't Dr. Publix, you work in the deli. When I politely ask you to warm the deli meat for me why does a 30 minute speech ensue. NEVER mind that I'm clearly in a hurry. I guess it wasn't a dead giveaway that I come to you EVERY Sunday at 2:30 balloons, brownies and Signature Properties nametag on but I'm trying to get to an open house. The only thing I'd like is a 6 inch sub on whole wheat. I don't need to know that you "Ain't never heard of that Leestarie and I been workin' here almost 6 months". Truth be told you're barely legal and the only thing medically you're worried about is if the Proactiv is going to kick in soon. Needless to say I am then forced to explain (as a group of impatient beach goers grows around me) that I'm pregnant and that in EVERY freakin' book I've read I just simply need to ask you to warm up the FRICKIN' meat. Not in a single one of those dang books did it mention anything about this debate. In fact, after you finish your diatribe about who knows what, because truth be told I haven't heard a word you said (fixated on that pimple square in the middle of your chin that I'm dying to pop), you move over and I see a toaster RIGHT behind you. Thank you for obliging me. I was only 15 minutes late to my open house (that looks SUPER professional) and only had 2 balloons pop while standing there absently nodding my head at you.

FAT COW FAT COW and spontaneous crying..frickin' GREAT!

I'm 10 weeks pregnant and my stomach is HUGE. Everybody's like "it doesn't look as big as you think". To that I politely say BS! BS BS BS!!!! My stomach is bloated, swollen, gross. I know it's huge because I can see it when I look down and keep in mind my 40 pounds per boob are in between my eyes and my redneck stomach.

Next up, touching the stomach. So apparently it's going to happen. I would like to reinstate a quota. One touch and one touch only. So, if you've already touched, rubbed, or talked to my stomach you're done. You know who you are and I don't think you need/want me to name names (mom, Jessica, McCall....who am I missing?!). Plus when you lean down and talk to my stomach it looks like you're talking to my va jay jay and that's even weird.

Oh great a diet pill commercial just came on...and now I'm crying. This is ridamndiculous!

How/why has that crazy Duggar psycho done this like 30 times. INSANE!

To those who still keep mentioning twins. I love all of you and know somewhere deep, deep, DEEP down inside you mean well and are only joking BUT My vagina doesn't think you're funny and wouldn't me to pass along a message, SHUT UP. If by some insane weird medical freakshow I am carrying 2, I'll only be giving birth to one the other will just stay inside FOREVER!

Off to a home inspection where I'll probably be sweating (what asshole decided to call that glowing?!?!) WAAAAAY before anyone else.

Yep still uncomfortable

So, I had a friend ask why I haven't added any new blogs recently. The short answer is. I'm still angry. I'm still bloated. I'm still frickin' incredibly insane. And yes, I'm still nauseous. I kind of figured at this point people would want some sunshine so I was gonna wait until I felt a little glowy. Well, apparently that isn't happening unless glowy also means pimples and secreting oils from EVERY pore. One thing that has made me smile is your posts to my blog at least I know someone is reading this ridiculous path I'm on.

I should put out a warning (or maybe a t-shirt would be more fair) to all my clients, friends and acquaintances, I'M OFF MY LEXAPRO. I'm firing people left and right. I'm like the Donald, step out of line and you're fired. No questions asked. No 2nd chances. You're fired and that's it. My father-in-law and his wife came into town and stayed with us this week and I swear I fired him like 10x.

Oh yeah, and hair growth is out of control and I'm not just talking hair on the head....the face, the legs and everywhere in between. FREAKIN' ridiculous! Bye bye laser hair removal results, hello woolly mammoth.

Gotta go if I don't get the bio oil on my boobs at least a 1/2 hour before I get in bed it'll never dry.

Oh I'm sorry were we bothering you by expecting some SERVICE?!?!

Allow me to set the scene. A gorgeous, non humid Spring Saturday evening in Savannah, GA. We have made plans with 2 lovely people who've just found out our news. In preparation for the big night out I've 1-taken a lengthy nap to make sure not to nod off during the meal, 2- shaved my legs and put on some stilettos to appear to less bloated, 3- made reservations for 8pm (early enough but hoping just late enough the gnats will have gone to sleep) and 4- tucked my 1/2 card in the purse hoping to help with what will likely be a large tab. The stage is set, the actors (that's us) are ready and then the server had to go and FUCK it up!

Let me just say, that I am a server from WAAAAY back so you really have to suck for me to not give you 20%. We arrive on time (in fact 5 minutes early). I go pee(shocker) and we are seated outside. Then we wait....wait....wait. She finally does decide we're worth greeting (apparently enthusiasm isn't trendy this month) and we place a bottled water order (normally tap but read an article about pregnancy and tap so I have to be a pretentious ass for 40 weeks). I tried to place an order for bread (they charge $3 for it) but she was too quick in running away from us. Our dinner guests arrive (on time) and we wait some more...and some more. I go to that bathroom again.

By the time I return nothing has happened. NOTHING. No bread, no water, and no server. One of our diners goes into order our first of 2 bottles of wine (not the cheapest on the menu). Guy behind bar seems irritated, server no where to be found. YAY water arrives. Test like tap to me but does come in pretty glass bottle. (My super sensitive smell has picked up the lingering garbage odor but I choose to keep it to myself. It's fine. Maybe it'll keep away the gnats.)

Onto the menu and specials.
Server says "We are substituting the ribeye with the filet"
I get excited because filet sounds great.
Server says "But we're out of the filet"
So why even mention it?
Server goes over specials. I try to make eye contact and smile to no avail. She could give a crap.

Bread and wine show up. Great.
Michael and the other male guest decide on the Wahoo (fish special) that the server mentioned. Place order to server.
Server says "We are out of the Wahoo but it comes with some other kind of fish on top. Is that ok?"
Michael "What kind of fish?"
Server "Does it matter?"
My inner monologue. "Are you frickin' kidding me? Of course it matters. What if it's toadfish, or catfish, or jellyfish??? Seriously we're paying top dollar for you to know the specials...at the bare freakin' minimum the specials. You don't even have to be jolly about it but you do have to know it." I chug my water and try to imagine it being the lovely wine my dinner companions are downing. The server gives us a big ole sigh (b/c we're clearly putting her out) as she huffs back inside to find out what kind of fish is the entree special.

Food comes. It's mediocre at best. Which is REALLY disappointing b/c this place used to have exquisite food. I mean if you're gonna drive to a "transitional" area of town and deal with the server who sucks at least the food should be good, right!

FINALLY we reach the end. I'm pretty proud that I'm still awake. The rest of the group is trying to enjoy their 2nd bottle of wine and the 2 cheesecake slices we ordered (cause they were out of the chocolate dessert). I ask the server if they're going out of business and she explains that no there just a small restaurant who doesn't over order things. Yeah, right. By the way NO they weren't busy that night. So we relaxing, winding down and then the kicker.

This crazy beatch and her fellow server start packing up the tables and chairs around us! Don't mind us we only spent $250 with you and yes tipped accordingly (but you server already know that as it was the only time you were attentive to us was to swing by immediately after we signed to get your tip) Packing up the frickin' tables and chairs. IT'S 10PM. Not midnight, not even 11pm. If the pregnant woman is still going strong it's entirely too early for you to start packing it in.

I bid you adieu, trendy not to be open much longer restaurant, as I'll be spending the next 2 trimesters eating my own mediocre cooking at home.

Pad Thai and a GUT?!?!

Yeppers that's right a GUT! I finally felt non-queasy enough to venture out for some good ole all American Thai food with my girlfriend, Amanda. Yes, that's her name. No, I'm a 3rd person talker...although at this point she's one of the few people who can tolerate being around me and incredibly foul mouth.

Anywho, I arrive at my favorite midtown eatery ready to do some damage and when I get a text from Amanda. She arrived a moment before me and had already feasted her eyes on our uninvited dining companion for the day. A gut and some of a butt!

I get that everyone has to eat including your newborn but really breastfeeding at the table?!?! I know there's some women out there who are gonna get all bent of shape at me b/c it's "a beautiful, natural experience" but it should also be a PRIVATE experience. I have big ole (getting bigger by the day) boobs but in no way shape or form do I feel I have the right to plop them out in a public restaurant. The poor girls who had met their new mommy friend for lunch seemed to be handling it well by staring anywhere else except at the small child attached to their friend's chest. Your gut may be pretty to you (seriously with the low rise jeans) but honey come on. The bathroom in that restaurant is plenty big enough for you and your little man while he eats. Also, did you not know he'd be needing a meal???? Could you not plan your lunch oh I don't know around his!? Trust me when I say your girlfriends would've preferred going earlier or later than having to watch that.

So, that was a huge nauseating (as if I needed it) distraction. Besides that, Amanda and I plowed through the meal while chatting and texting our real inner thoughts to each other and the pad thai was a dang treat...the indigestion and gas (yep that's a new unpleasant surprise) that followed not so much!

Exhausted, irritated..short fuse w/no tolerance for idiocracy

Where to begin???? Still flippin' exhausted and I've doing nothing to be so dang tired. While trying to open a damn package of Saltines (do they have to be sealed with some sort of extra adhesive glue) I drove my dang car into one of the brick columns at the end of the driveway. God love, my husband he's outside trying to bump it the other way so at least it's straight.

I have never brushed my teeth so many times in one day in my life (and I had braces for YEARS). Why did no one tell me swampy nasty sticky gooey holy cow who died in there mouth was a common side effect of pregnancy?

Who's the asshole that's been punching me in the chest when I'm sleepy or maybe I'm doing a lot push ups in my dreams...either way my breasts are on fire. I hate standing in the shower as the water feels like little thumb tacks coming at my poor unprepared boobies in all different directions.

I know I'm not supposed to start showing until later but my stomach is a HUGE, swollen, giggly hot mess. Some child (ok she's probably in her 20's) said how cute you have a baby bump. Beatch with the 6 six pack abs this aint' no bump it's a gut and it's anything but cute!

I decided to purchase some bio oil for fear of the upcoming stretchmarks and am slathered in it morning noon and night...unfortunately I'm also using a self tanner and think the two mixing together have created a rash on my ass. JUST great an ever expanding ass that is now splotchy, stretched out and a weird shade of orange.

I believe I mentioned before that I'm psychotic. It's COMPLETEY OUT OF CONTROL. I've given up alcohol, caffeine and my LEXAPRO. Thank gawd we don't own a gun. I laugh, cry sometimes at the same time and DON'T CUT ME OFF!

If Michael leaves I do hope he'll return for the birth.

Be back I have to go to the bathroom or maybe just have horribly painful gas. YEAH nobody mentioned that EITHER!

WTF?!? TMI!

So, now that I've told some folks about my zygote in the oven it's quite shocking the crazy ass shit that will come out of some friends, family and people I hardly know mouths. If you knew me before the fertilization you're aware that for a very long time I was not a fan of having children or other peoples children for that matter. So when you ask in your mocking tone "did you change your mind??" Yes, ass clown apparently I did otherwise why would I have gone off the pill, started taking these damn prenatal (nasty burp reaction) vitamins, have unprotected sex with my husband and then announced to you that I'm with child?!?! That doesn't mean however that I am now going to ooh and ahh over your screaming snotty kid at lunch. Still don't like them. But am pretty excited about raising my own little snotty nosed kid.

Unsolicited advice. In general not really welcome or wanted. I get that all the mothers out there have sweet little nuggets of wisdom to share....but really I'm like a second pregnant! Can you give me a minute before you tell me any of the following.
Things I don't need to hear yet.
Scrub your nipples with a toothbrush so you can breast feed better.
DON'T get your tubes tied. EVERYone I know has regretted it.
It's funny your water breaking is like peeing for a really long time.
With my epidural I couldn't move my legs, had a migraine for weeks after, lapsed in and out of consciousness.
I was ripped all the way to my rectum. My rectum!
I thought I wanted kids. I was wrong. So, wrong.
Your vagina will never look the same.

Whew.
Oh gawd here comes the saliva...where are my ginger candies???? Those damn candies are the best advice I've gotten so far!