Just because I have two brains in my body doesn't mean I can think

The other night my husband and I were talking about people we thought were easy on the eyes. Only because, every time he talks about our accountant, I *always* mutter under my breath, "Oh, he is so easy on the eyes." In our 13 years together, my husband has never mentioned another person we know personally who he finds attractive.

"So, I will tell you, honey, that there is one woman in our neighborhood here who I find easy on the eyes."

"Really?!! Let me try to guess......OH, it's got to be...Ruth"

(Ruth is our nosey German neighbor who told me that she didn't realize that I was pregnant but thought I was 'just getting big.' She's also older than dirt.)

"Oh, you know it...that fine piece of German heiney walking her dog in front of our house everyday, looking in the windows."

"But Heiney is a dutch beer."

"Yeah, you're right. Nope, not her. Guess again."

"OK...it's got to be Mary. When she's outside in her housecoat smoking a cigarette."

"NO!"

"Margie?"

"The one who has a rocking chair sculpture in her yard? Nope!"

"Well, then it has to be Stephanie."

"Who?"

"Stephanie. From across the street? She is kind of young? You think her name is Michelle?"

"Oh. No."

"Well..."

"Honey, it's YOU, moron!! YOU are the one lady in the neighborhood I think is easy on the eyes!!!! WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE???"

duh.

Tell me why....

...my husband installs an air conditioner and this morning the heating guy shows up to fill our oil tank?

Because when it was 94 degrees on Sunday, the oil company wanted to make sure we were prepared for the upcoming freeze!!

Oh. I know my friend....irony.

Enough with the irony, already!

Not soon after I posted today's whine, Little Dog ran out the cat door to bark at the neighbors. When I made my way to the back porch to call him in, he came running toward me with something rolled up in his mouth.

It was a poopy diaper.

I kid you not.

That dog brought me a poop filled diaper.

And irony is defined how?!!

Running the gamut of emotions

My husband tells me that I exhibit three emotions: Happy, Angry, and Tired. Angry and Tired have had to have me medicated for about half our marriage so that all of us at Monkey Hill can remain Happy. Generally, you could say that I am Happy. In fact, just yesterday a co-worker told me how 'chipper' I seemed despite the fact that I appear to be carrying quintuplets and that she was not nearly that nice when she was pregnant. I let her know that she was lucky she did not live with me. (And I'm good at 'checkin' it at the door' when I enter the workplace.)

This morning my husband bore witness to an emotion that he has only seen 2 other times in the past 13 years, and one my daughter has never, ever seen: uncontrollable/inconsolable Sadness. No, not the type of sadness that overtakes me when I watch The Sea Inside, but the Sadness that turns me into a blathering idiot, crying so hard that I actually throw up. Oh, sure, I cry. A Lot. But this morning's cry, and those two other times, felt like a speeding bullet had entered my chest, causing me to explode and never know if I could ever become whole again.

I lost it when I got up this morning at 4:55am (mind you, I am not sleeping well, at all, so you are probably surprised I haven't lost it sooner! Even my doctor told me he is not up that early) to find a puddle and package from Little Dog. Sure, this behavior, while it has gotten better, should not cause one to cry. But it was the moment I walked out of my room and was hit with the smell of dog poo that a wave of emotions hit me at the same time, causing the deep sobs. It was at that moment that I felt completely helpless, lost, and utterly alone. How, possibly, can I raise another daughter when I can't even get my dog to go outside to crap?

My husband woke up to clean up the mess and do his best to make me feel better. He's more of a doer than an empath, so he made sure I had water to drink and that I made it to the toilet to throw up. And then he climbed back into bed with me and listened to me cry for close to two hours. Poor Darian woke up wondering what was the matter, not sure why Mommy was crying so hard. "Mother Nature hit Mommy, telling her she needed to get her butt in gear since the baby is going to be here really, really, soon. That hurt Mommy, so she is crying," was how my husband explained my outburst to our first born. My daughter, who is an empath, had tears in her eyes and said, "I think you really need to lay down and have me cuddle you." And then I cried some more.

(Though we are technically 35 weeks 3 days, Piper measures gestationally 36 weeks 5 days, which means she could come about 8 days earlier than we thought- thwarting all my plans!!)

I thought I was getting better, when my husband, who obviously should have kept his thoughts to himself said outloud, "There's some chicken in the fridge that will need to get cooked tonight."

The sobbing resumed with the half hiccuping words escaping me, "I can't even handle the dog and you want me to cook some chicken tonight?"

"Honey, I am sorry. I will grill it; don't worry. I'm sorry I said anything about chicken."

I ended up falling asleep, completely spent from the loss of so many tears; dreamless sleep that caused me to wake just in time to say goodbye to Darian as she left for day camp. I ended up going into work for a half day.

I'm a lot better as of dinner time. No, I didn't cook any chicken; I will leave that for my husband. I had a productive afternoon at work and am now vegging out with my girl, the one Thursday where we do not have to go to Tae Kwon Do class.

And no dog left me a package to deal with upon my arrival home.

She certainly has her priorities straight

"So, I was planning out my life and wanted to give you a list of all the things I will be doing after the baby is born."

"OK, Darian, tell me."

"Well, first, I am going to go to fourth grade. Then, I will finish elementary school and then go to middle school. Then I have to go high school. Not junior high, right?"

"You will go to middle school; not junior high."

"OK. Then after I graduate from high school I want to buy some properties. Then I will go to college. Then after college I will get married."

"OK."

"And then I will buy some more properties. And then I will have sex and have a baby."

I'm not ready to have a baby....yet

Friday I went in for a routine OB check when my doctor nonchalantly said that I have a 'bit of protein' in my urine. My blood pressure was slightly higher than normal and there is some concern about my ever swollen ankles and hands, so, of course that means that I have preeclampsia. OK. Not really. But... I go back to the doctor on Thursday for another check and he said that if things look the same, or the protein levels have increased, then he will have to INDUCE ME.

"OH NO!, " I exclaimed! "Dr. A, I cannot have this baby before August 21. For one: my mother does not even arrive to help me until August 26. For two: taking the twelve weeks maternity leave during the week of August 12 has me back in the office the week of Thanksgiving. That's a holiday week; the perfect time to get back into the routine of work. And for three: I HAVEN'T EVEN HAD MY BABY SHOWER YET!!!"

Dr. A gave a comforting smile and asked, "Didn't having Darian teach you anything about having babies?"

"Yes! She came 45 minutes after her due date! I can have a baby when I want to!!!"

Trying not to laugh at his obviously mental patient, Dr. A gently said, "You believe what you want, and I will see you next week. Watch out for blurred vision and headaches."

Blurred vision and headaches?! Blurred vision and headaches?! My doctor just used the term 'induce' and he expects me to be wary of a headache? That word alone uttered to a 8.5 month pregnant woman is cause for a headache. Preeclampsia, or not!
So, naturally I have been having mild freakouts and one rager of a headache since Friday afternoon.

I came home and just stared in utter disbelief that my house will soon have a newborn living in it. Where? The crib is still disassembled in the garage; the moses basket is still in storage. Darian's two rooms have yet to be condensed and painted to make way for Piper. I have not one diaper, receiving blanket, or CAR SEAT to call my baby's. (However, I did win an auction on eBay last week- my first ever- and will be getting a brand new kate spade diaper bag in the mail this week, in addition to my petunia pickle bottom! I KNOW!! My priorities with having a new baby are SERIOUSLY OUT OF WACK!! Please do not rub it in. I'm a little tense at the moment. Thank you very much.)

My husband and my very good girlfriends have assured me that everything will be fine and not worry so much. I do realize that all the 'problems' can be solved with a quick trip to Babies R Us and Costco and that the home organization can be done in less than a weekend if my husband rallies one guy friend to work with him. ::::Sidebar: my husband said that because Darian's room is to be painted two colors that it cannot possibly be done in a weekend and I asked, "Have you not seen Trading Spaces? Like hell you can't get that room painted in a weekend." "Oh, yeah, they get a room painted in a weekend, but I bet a week later it looks like crap." UGH!!! Just humor me, husband!! Paint the frickin' room!!!

Dear internet, I have not asked you for much, but today I ask that you send Have Piper On Her Due Date Or Close Enough To It vibes my way. I know all of you out there know that babies come when they are ready, not when Mommy has the house ready, but, like I asked of my husband, HUMOR ME.

Baby II~ Electric Bugaloo

Piper is one active baby girl and recently I have begun to feel her auditioning for 'So You Think You Can Dance?' in utero. Initially, I would feel little flutters near my hips and was convinced that she was practicing her JAZZ HANDS. Then a little heel to the ribs a la the cha cha. Other times, I would feel her head and knees press into my bladder, pelvis and general nether regions as if she was doing crunches to warm up. This move is extremely painful to the person who carries her everywhere and I have had to tell her many times to STOP IT ALREADY!!

In fact, I have just sent her a memo reminding her of the few simple rules of body sharing:

1. At no time are you to be working out. No crunches, push ups and
absolutely no pilates. There's hardly room for me to stretch anymore.
2. If you happen to find yourself doing a little jig, share with me the
song in your head. Someone just hit me with 'C'mon Eileen' and I think I am
going insane.
3. While break dancing is awfully cool, can you stop doing that snake thing?
I'm feeling woozy enough with this Seattle heat.
4. Save the tae kwon do kicking for your father!!!

By abiding by these small requests, can we merrily spend the next 7 weeks. Oh, my...did I just say 7 weeks? Your imminent birth is creepin' up on me, kid.