The Musical in My Head

Okay, so I know I’m posting a lot today. But this is important and needs to be shared.

My friends would be able to tell you that I am a walking jukebox. My motto is, “Life is one big song cue” and there is a musical happening almost 24/7 in my head. Got it? Good.

That being said, I have the tendency to completely and utterly forget that I’m a member of the normal human race, which consists of people who do NOT have elaborate song and dance numbers running through their heads at any given moment. So, I have the tendency to randomly make up my own songs and dances in inappropriate places.

I was sitting here, starving my fat little toushy off when I remembered some spare change I had in my wallet. Gleeful, I retrieved the money, got off my butt and ventured out into the hallway. I was not paying attention to my surroundings, and was waddling down the hall singing:

“Going to the vending machine, cha cha! Going to the vending machine, cha cha!” and when I got to the “cha cha” part, I’d stop for a second and wiggle my hips and belly. At one point, I happened to look up from my feet and just stopped. There was a college-aged boy coming down the hallway and he was just looking at me. I gave him my most winning smile and scurried as quickly as my short, plump little legs would carry me.

And that, my friends, was my embarassing moment of the day.

A Day in the Life of Mommy and Baby

Mommy: Boy, I sure am uncomfortable.

Baby: What’s this soft, squishy thing? *tests it out* Hey, that’s nice. I’m going to sleep here. *lays on mommy’s bladder*

Mommy: Shit, I have to pee. *gets up to pee. Cringes at round ligament pain. Goes to bathroom. Nothing comes out. Waddles back to desk. Cringes at round ligament pain.*

Baby: I’m uncomfortable. *rolls, elbowing mommy in the bladder in the process. Re-lays on mommy’s bladder.*

Mommy: Shit. I have to pee. Again. *gets up to pee. Waddles to bathroom. Sighs at round ligament pain. Sits down to pee. Leaky faucet pee. Waddles back to desk. Winces at round ligament pain.*

Baby: Hey, what’s this? *kicks the shit out of mommy’s “round ligament area”*

Mommy: *feels like someone just kicked the shit out of a muscle that’s being torn, stretched and pulled at the same time* OW! SON OF A BITCH!

Coworker: WTF?

Baby: I’m bored with that. *rolls over again, squashing mommy’s bladder in the process*

Mommy: *sighs* I have to pee. Again. *waddles to bathroom. Gets made fun of by coworker. Coworker screams in pain as mommy ‘accidentally’ stomps on his foot. Mommy chuckles and winces at round ligament pain simultaneously.*

Baby: *sleeps for four hours*

Mommy: I’m hungry.
I’m tired.
It’s hot in here.
SHUT UP, COWORKER.
I’m still hungry.

Baby: *sleepkicks*

Mommy: OW.

Baby: *wiggles, pokes, thumps mommy in the belly*

Mommy: *looks down at belly and smiles. Rubs belly.* I love you, kiddo.

Baby: *gets snuggly and sleeps.* ….. This isn’t comfortable. *rolls over, headbutting mommy’s bladder*

Mommy: ……. *sigh*

My Fat Fingers

I’ve been wearing my wedding rings on a chain (a sturdy one) for about a month now. I freaking hate it. My wedding rings have been a part of my hand for over 4 years now and my engagement ring has been nestled comfortable on my finger for over 5. I feel so naked without them. Even after 4 weeks of not wearing them, I still find myself fidgeting and panicking for a split second when I don’t feel them before my pregnant brain catches up and remembers they’re around my neck.

Also, my hair gets tangled up in my chain and that is also infuriating.

I’m trying a little experiment today. My finger swelling (which isn’t terrible, but enough to make my rings tight) is worse on my left hand. My wedding ring is tighter than my engagement ring, so I now have my engagement ring on my left hand; my wedding ring on my right. People will either think I’m crazy, or in the middle of a divorce or something. Ah, well. Let them think what they want.

I’ve often wondered if people notice my pregnant belly and then notice I’m not wearing wedding rings on my finger. I almost dare someone to say something to me; to make some kind of comment. Pregnancy has made me sassy and short-tempered and less prone to tolerate someone’s bullshit. I don’t have time for your judgements, sir, I’m busy MAKING A HUMAN BEING.

See what I mean? Getting all fired up over nothing. Maybe this baby is a hothead and her attitude is shining through me. Either that or I’m just a bitch. It could be the latter, I don’t really know.

Have I mentioned how impossible it is to get comfortable at work? My chair is uncomfortable, so I switched to a different one. Still uncomfortable. NOTHING HELPS. I wadded up a hoodie that I have here and slipped it behind my lower back. No dice. This is just another reason I wish I were a SAH mommy-to-be and not stuck at my desk, uncomfortable and whiney.

My body has started a new thing this week; constant discomfort in my lower abdomen. I don’t know if it’s ligament pain or what, but it sucks. I have this constant pulling, tight pain in the front of my lower abdomen. It’s worse when I have to use the bathroom, but it is uncomfortable to stand up from a sitting position, roll over in bed, and even sit in certain positions. I don’t know if this is normal, or something I should address to my doctor next week. I will probably mention it just to be on the safe side. It sure is irritating and painful.

I’m irritable today. Everyone is getting on my nerves. Also, I’m hungry. And apparently a whiney little baby, from the overall tone of this blog. I apologize to all of you reading.

No, you know what? I take it back. Deal with it!

…I’m sorry, that was the baby, not me.

I’m still hungry.