Follow-Up Friday: Clumsy Momma in MS Paint

25 02 2011

Beh. I knew I should have done more scenes… Falling over the cords was one incident, then this:

(Yes, the cart/trolley wheel is supposed to be wonky)


(now, not that my store is that disorganized, but I didn’t feel like drawing 97000 cans/bags of cat food)

(and it’s not that Buffy & Kali eat THAT much, but Bailey has taken to snacking from their bowls, making us go through food 200% quicker)

Better now?

Thoughtful Thursday

20 01 2011

Here are some things which have been rolling around in my brain:

* The best plan is a loose plan
*Motherhood has made me calm the f down (well, after all the near-dying-crazy-hormone-drama ceased)
* People who make baby clothes probably don’t have a baby
* I never realized how I take simple things for granted, such as realizing I have hands, rolling over, bladder control…
* God bless the inventors of washing machines, cell phones, laptops and e-mail subscriptions
* I live in a culture of excess
* YOT’s lease is up in two weeks and I haven’t even considered looking at new vehicles
* Vanity is a selfish reason to not to do something
* My instincts are more right than ever
* Meals are best enjoyed warm. Beer is best enjoyed cold. I am lacking both simple pleasures.
*You get what you pay for and if your therapist isn’t totally covered by your insurance, it may be worth paying for.
* Some bands/artists I do not like: ELO, Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen, The Eagles, John Melloncamp (all incarnations), Celine Dion

MYOB: The Direct Approach

21 09 2010

Balancing coffee on The Bump, Creepy Creepy Guys get on the train. “Well, isn’t that a sour puss? You’re (imitates duck face). Cranky much?”
“On your way to work?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t talk to people I don’t know.”
CCG#1 makes sour beer face. I return to glazed stare out of the opposite window.
“Well, if you don’t talk to strangers, then how do you meet new people?!”, CCG #1 inquires.
CCG #2 comments, “Probably at the candy shop.” (aside: WTF, a candy shop? are you serious?)

CCG #1 says, “So what are you hoping for?”
(voice in the back of my head, “A fu&^ing puppy that poops skittles you pervert!”)

Thank goodness it was my stop, but I felt his eyes on me the whole time.

So, ladies and gentlemen, in the interest of how to get people to stop talking to you, I bit the bullet and can report that even the direct approach of “I AM NOT TALKING TO YOU.” does not work.

Monday, Why do you Torture me??!

13 09 2010

It’s feeling a bit like Friday the 13th, rather than Monday the 13th.

1) Traffic on the 10s is useless when you don’t announce an accident that’s more than 10 minutes old. Especially when it’s right after I pass the last exit to take the alternate route.

2) Constant Comment is in the office. (remember him? Here, here and here)

He comes up to me, I’m already in a bad mood and he’s using that “You’re so young and stupid” voice… “So, how you feeling these days?”
“Fine.” (Thinking, “Go away.”)
“Feeling the baby kick?”
“I’m 9 months pregnant. I should hope so.” (mind you, he was in a month ago and asked when I was due, clearly out of courtesy, then promptly started talking about himself.)
“Oh, then you can go about any time then!” (my new least favorite phrase)
“I have a few weeks still. (“GO. AWAY.”)
Taking a “I have poops older than you!” tone with me, “Bet you want some advice.”
Taking a “I’m being serious when I say this” tone back to him, “No. Actually, I don’t.”
He proceeds to talk to me anyway.

3) Note to Annoyance, you know that I was working on that proposal. Why aren’t you asking me about it?

WTFFriday: Shorties

10 09 2010

(I know you’ve all missed me soooooo much… no MiniMak yet, just nothing “exciting” going on; doubt you care about my whining that Dairy Queen is closed at 9pm.)

Dear Media Outlets,
If you don’t want something to be news, don’t pick it up or cover it.
That nutjob with the Quran burning, he’s getting the attention he wants because you’re giving it to him.
Sure, it’s news, but YOU’RE the ones blowing it out of proportion. Not saying that what he’s doing is wrong or right, but he had a flock of 50. In Florida.
Pretty sure it wouldn’t have been national news if you’d keep it in your pants.

(now that we’ve got the unpleasantness out of the way)

Dear Old Navy,
You’re so hard to resist with your chunky sweaters, non-mumu maternity clothes and adorbs baby stuff.
I wish I knew how to quit you.

Dear People Who Don’t Know,
When a lady is pretty far along in her pregnancy, she’s got a good idea of if there’s one or more babies in there.
Asking her if there’s twins in there causes undue TMJ flare ups. Extra flare for following up with, “Are you sure?”
This, just moments after you commented on how good (read: smaller then someone this far along)  she looks.
Besides, if there were twins A) you would have heard about it by now B) They’d be the size of peanuts because twiners are A LOT bigger.

Dear Date Requesters,
Baby isn’t taking requests for birth day.
We’re honored that  you’d be willing to share your birthday with us, but really, when he/she is ready, that’s when it is.
Stop looking at me like I took Old Yeller out back when I say, “We’ll see when we decide to come…”

Dear Rotating Doctor,
I’m sure it’ll be nice to meet you next week.
Sorry that our first encounter is going to require your looking at my lady bits. This isn’t how I usually start relationships off.


27 08 2010

WTF Person Who Laughs at Everything,
Just wondering, what is so funny about someone sneezing? No really, let me in on this joke because I don’t get it.
I sneezed, pardoned  myself and you damn near burst your bladder.
I know you’re not that jovial, what’s with the laughing?
Someone brought you a soda? HAR HAR HAR!
Won a scratch-off lottery? HEE HEE HEE!
Ate some chips? HAW HAW HAW!

Clearly you misread your directions about where to turn.
No problem.
Let me let you in on a tip.
If you’ve realized that you no longer have to turn right, slow down, stay on the shoulder,  put your LEFT blinker on, check your mirror, check your blind spot and when you’re certain that a purple Trailblazer isn’t trying to pass you, THEN pull back onto the road.
Also, that BLARING noise in the key of F, that was my horn.
Your driving antics caused me to break a perfectly good glass when my bag when sailing into my dashboard. You owe me $2.
I’m just glad I didn’t have to pee urgently.

WTF Subway and your “Veggie Delight”,
Let me get this straight… you based the nutritional information using the condiment quantity for a “regular” sandwich and that’s why I have to insist on extra extra veggies?

WTF NY plate “U2 ROCKS”,
Your driving offends me.
First, that sign that alerted you to upcoming merging traffic means that traffic will be merging. This doesn’t mean that you play flying eagles with another car that is going slower than traffic and then speeds up to pass you.
Secondly, it’s a called a blinker, or in some areas “directional”. Learn it, love it, use it.
Thirdly, when you pass someone, do not SLAM on the brakes as soon as you get in front of them; especially when there’s a good 700 yards between the bumper in front of you.
Fourth, it’s a posted speed limit. If you’re not going to do it, get to the right.

Fifth, I don’t think you realized ANY of the hundreds of other motorists on the road.
And screw your “Pray for all Priests!” bumper sticker. I pray that you don’t kill someone with your driving.

WTF Gestational Diabetes,
You’re only present for a short time after I eat way too much (i.e. chips, salsa and enchiladas at El Canelo).
Case in point, when I ate that leftover cake and tested 45 minutes later, you were at 115. Technically, you should have been higher.
When I get retested in a few months, kindly stick to the levels we’ve been having.

WTF Chocolate Milk,
Why do you rock so hard?
I love you.

*tap tap* Is This Thing On?

9 08 2010

The way my brain is wired is pretty easy. Relevant [to this posting] nugget include:
If you’re going to take the time to ask someone a question, take the time to pay attention to their answer.

I tend to get frustrated when people bring things up that I presume they know are wrong, just to start a conversation.

I.E. #1
At last month’s 4th of July party, an uncle asked if we were finding out what we’re having.
I told him no.
Over the weekend, I saw said uncle again. He asked if we were going to find out what we’re having.

I.E. #2
4th of July: “Are you feeling the bbaaaaaabbbyyyy*?”
“Sure am!”
This weekend: “Are you feeling the bbaaaaaabbbyyyy*?”
(aside, I have 8-9 weeks to go. If I am not feeling the baby, we have MAJOR issues.)

I.E. #3/4
My parents have lived in Tucson for almost 6 years. Why do some people insist on asking me if they still live in Phoenix? They lived in Phoenix about 8 years ago.
Same goes for my maternal family who live in Small Town Michigan (2 hours south of Detroit)… Steve’s family still thinks they live in Detroit, despite my correcting them multiple times a year. Not that the geographic location matters, it’s more of, “They don’t live in Detroit, they live in Small Town, but (revert to whatever dribble was going on).”

Maybe it’s that whole can-we-talk-about-something-else but I am over being asked, “How are you feeling?” and “Are you excited?”
If you know someone who’s pregnant, stop asking them.
You don’t really want to know about hemorrhoids, bladder weakness, upset stomachs, acid reflux, back pain, midnight charlie horses etc. ** Everyone and their mothers (and fathers. And uncles. And Aunts. And various strangers) are asking them how they feel. Can we talk about the weather (but not related to pregnancy) or the local sports team or something?

Most people are excited to welcome a baby into their lives. If I answer with a dry, “No”, you look at me like I’m the one who is stupid. Why the hell wouldn’t I be excited? Thank you for not asking if I’m nervous or scared or prepared (for the record, “No, because it is what it is, why fret over how horrible it’s going to be?”, “Kind of, just because this is something I’ve never done before.” and “Hahahaha. No. Though, I do have a car seat, stroller, changing table and boppy.”) because I do not want to hear you trying to rationalize WHY I should be scared/nervous; “Oh, you know Family Member almost DIED when she gave birth!”

And to people who do rationalize people’s fear, there’s a monster living under your bed and that lunch meat you made your sandwich with is past  it’s best-by date and tomorrow you’ll find that the next piece of bread in the bag is moldy.

*Yes, that’s how you must refer to spawn. Especially if you’re over the age of 60. No offense to my decent 60+ readers, I know you’d never.
** This author is lucky and has not been plagued by may of this maladies. But you know that because we’ve discussed it.

Wordless Wednesday: <110 & <140

28 07 2010

WTFFriday (in a “Dear so-and-so” concept)

16 07 2010

Hey, Gestational Diabetes, WTF?
No, really. I want, nay, need to know.
When I went in for lab work, my levels were “elevated” (not “OMG!”, but above normal). Which meant that after losing 4 hours last Wednesday and an entire Saturday (which come to find out, despite my questioning the lab, WAS supposed to be a three-hour test; not pencils down at two hours.), I got to lose ANOTHER 2 hours on Tuesday because I had to go for “Education”. Said “Education” involved the doling of a glucose meter* and a look of sheer confusion from the dietitian when I said I don’t eat a lot of animal based protein. For real though, from the look on her face, you’d though I had asked her to build a replica of the Hindenburg out of popsicle sticks.
After everything was said and done (sans crying fit!) all of my levels have been WELL within range.
Maybe now people will understand that I am not good with lab work. Or perhaps it was that I’m not that much of a sugar junkie, so when you deliberately overload my system, of course I’m going to have processing issues.

WTF Pushy Prom Date?
Annoyance: Hey, you want a doughnut?
Me, nicley: No. Thank you though.
Annoyance: They’re fresh from Hortons.
Me: No. Thank you.
Annoyance: They’re chocolate.
Me: No.
Annoyance: Are you ssssuuuurrreee?
Annoyance, startled: Well. Okay then.

WTF Sidewalk Walker?
If you’re on the side of the sidewalk that has 20 feet between you and say the curb, and someone is coming towards you and they have 1 foot between them and some sidewalk construction, would it kill you to move over a couple of feet so  you can both get by?
It would?
I see.

WTF Dreamtime?
Really subconscious? You couldn’t think of any better situation to put me in than transporting Adult Stephanie to 15-Year-Old Stephanie’s job at the drugstore, running a cash register?

Props Bailey!
Aw, you knew that I was having a rough night and that 2 a.m. cuddle was f-ing awesome.
You scored extra adorable points by resting your head on The Baby Bump and sleeping.

WTF, wait, No, AWESOME!
Twilight, or Eclipse, I don’t know which is which… anyway, here it is, acted out by lolcats and loldogs.

*Which I have to admit, I have on the lowest stab-with-results setting as possible and I can’t feel it. YYYYEEEESSSSS.

Awesomeness and Junkie-like Bruising

12 07 2010

We met out with some friends on Friday night for dinner.
These friends have not seen Pregnant Stephanie at all, so naturally, there were comments.
HOWEVER, everything said was WONDERFULLY nice!!! Which is what a pregnant lady really needs to hear. Unlike, say, a family member who after her mother said I was carrying a girl (Stock reply: “Okay.”) said such was remarked because “when you carry a girl, you lose your beauty.”  That is on The No List.
ANYWAY, so the compliments were pretty much, “Unless we knew you were pregnant or saw your bump, we wouldn’t know you were pregnant!”. This is good because lately, when The Bump arrives a step or two before I do, well, it’s good to know that I don’t look like the StayPuft Marshmallow Man.
Note to anyone who knows someone who is pregnant, please, pay them a compliment… the neurosis that comes with all these sudden changes is quickly quelled by a well-delivered, “You look adorbs in that outfit.”

Junkie-like Bruising:
After a chastising you-need-an-appointment-for-this-test, I was able to get my lab work done bright and early at 630 Saturday morning.
Due to the nature of the test, I had blood drawn twice from my left arm and once from my right arm,which was already bruising from Wednesday’s debacle.
Honestly, I don’t know how junkies keep injecting stuff into their veins… by the time they hit my left arm again, they were going through bruising and well, that doesn’t feel real keen.
And no, I’m not anemic, I just have the transparency of Casper. So now, in the hottest time of year, I’m sporting Super Sexy Duel Inner-Arm Bruising; in winter/fall, I could have covered them with a sweater/sleeves.
So my Saturday pretty much was blown. I cried on the way home from the lab (due to discomfort) and cried again at home (due to discomfort, a headache and stomachache). I tried to nap, took Bailey in for a nail trim, hoping that getting up and moving around would help me feel less like shit…
Things must have been pretty rough, as Sunday morning, Steve remarked that I looked like I felt so much better; and he knows not to insult a pregnant wife.