Postpartum My Eggo Update: Week 1

Goodbye, Preggo My Eggo. Hello, Postpartum My Eggo. What you will find in Postpartum my Eggo updates: rants about how much newborns suck, gushes about how much newborns rock, unintelligible gibberish caused by lack of sleep and hormone imbalance, etc.

What you will not find here: weekly pictures of me and weight updates. Why? Because I think that is a good way to make myself feel like a failure when I don't do well and make some readers feel like failures when I do. Postpartum weight loss is an individual journey. If you are one of these mamas that had the baby and were posting skinny pictures of your tummy the next day, more power to ya, sister. I am not one of them. Currently, my belly looks like a deflated waterbed that has been attacked by a tiger then filled with jello and left in the sun for 6 months. You don't need to see that (though you may want to).

For now, I plan to keep these up until I return to work and have more than just a newborn to talk about. So, look forward to 12 weeks aboard postpartum The Crazy Train!

The Confessional

My Sin:
I was in love with Donnie Wahlberg. A love that was all-consuming and made me do idiotic things like make out with my TV screen when NKOTB videos were on. I went to a NKOTB concert a few years ago and fell back in love with Donnie when he jumped on stage and chugged two beer in less than 30 seconds. I believe we are soul mates.

Sin From a Fellow Boozehound:
I'm deathly afraid of balloons. Like, I will walk 2 miles out of my way just to avoid them. And those balloon animal people at restaurants?! I just started motioning "no" and saying my son has a latex allergy. (He does not have a latex allergy, just fyi.) We don't have balloons at parties, except mylar ones. Those are okay. They aren't unpredictable like the latex ones. Even the smell gives me the heeby jeebies. -Erin  (ILBAB says: I think this is a Freudian fear originating from the balloon's phallic shape. I think a sex toy party with you, your closest boozehounds and a box of wine is in order to remedy this fear.)

The Confessional is now open. Have something you need to repent for? Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 39 weeks down, 0 to go. My Sponsor Has Arrived

Ta Da! He's here. He's chubby. He throws up and sleeps a lot. Sorry to keep you in suspense with the 39-week update, but we kind of wanted to keep it a secret for a bit. Even from our friends and family. We wanted to wait until we all got acquainted and The Quiet Contemplator got to meet him. Things are hunky dory thus far.

Born: Thursday, December 22, 2011 at 8:34 p.m.
Chubbiness: 7 pounds 11 ounces 19.5 inches
Name: My Sponsor TBD

Birth story to follow once I have a chance to get some sleep/can think straight.

Until then, here is a quick outline of how it went down:

1130am arrive at hospital and gown up
12pm first fisting. Holy mother of god that hurt. 1.5 cm
1pm pitocin started
3pm water broken 2.5 cm
445pm  epi
5pm ridiculous itching from epi. 4 cm
6:30pm catheter 5 cm
715pm 6 cm
8pm feel like I have to poop. Wait for dr. 10 cm
8:30pm dr arrives. Start pushing.
8:34pm he's here! I know, I suck.

Hilarity to ensue once the warm and fuzzy new baby feelings wear off and the reality sets it. Stay tuned!

Preggo my Eggo Update: 39 weeks down, 1 to go.

The end of a pregnancy must be the only time in the world where you find symptoms like extreme back pain and horrible cramps a good thing. I actually said to my husband the other day, "I had really bad diarrhea this morning and my face is super bloated so that is exciting." At this point, any signs that labor is coming are embraced, no matter how painful or disgusting they are. I would give anything to be standing in the booze aisle in Target and have my water break. I would just take it as a sign that baby really wants mama to have a drink. Please, Baby. PLEASE!

And if another person says to me, "Oh, you have totally dropped" I am going to karate chop them in the gizzard. I have not dropped. It is my second pregnancy and you don't usually drop in second pregnancies. Why? I am not sure but I think it is because God is a masochist who wants you to suffer as long as possible until D-day for having sinned and had sex again. My Sponsor is still lodged in my throat. Just where he likes it.

Yep. Still pregnant.

The Quiet Contemplator loves sharks.

So The Quiet Contemplator loves sharks. The problem with that is, she can't says "shark". It always comes out "cock". The other problem with that is, she loves sharks so she talks about them a lot. Like we will actually be in a store and she will see one and yell out, "COCK!". People tend to look at you funny after that. Namely, they tend to look at ADD Daddy funny and he wants to curl up and die and send his daughter to the monastery.

Sunday, we were watching a special on coral reefs on 60 Minutes. Guess what the coral reef has a lot of? That's right, cocks sharks. Well, the minute they panned to Anderson Cooper's guns and away from the sharks, TCQ would yell, "I want cock!" Awesome.

I like to tell TCQ to tell ADD Daddy how much she loves sharks. He does not think this is funny and you can see him have a little rage stroke every time she says in her sweet little voice, "I love cocks, Daddy." I am mean, I know.

The Confessional

My Sin:
I can not make my bed without bending halfway across the room to reach it for fear that something will grab my ankles from under the bed and try to kill me. I basically leap into bed every night so as to avoid the monsters under my bed eating me. I know this is irrational.


Sin From a Fellow Boozehound:
Motherhood: A Descent Into Madness: While breastfeeding, I thought I had figured out how long it takes the booze to purge from my system before it was okay to feed again. One night, I had pumped at like, 4 in the morning, and thinking that it was safe, stored the milk for the next feeding. Well. AFTER feeding the bottle to my son, I went to rinse it and caught a big 'ole whiff of white wine. I smelled the empty bottle, and sure enough, the booze fumes were so strong that my eyes almost watered. That son is now 3 and is not the smartest of our kids - we don't wonder why. Bad, bad mommy. (ILBAB says: A little white wine nip from the nip never hurt anyone. Thanks for sharing, mommy.)


The Confessional is now open. Have something you need to repent for? Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.

My Top 10

This post from The Bloggess got me to thinking of who I would invite if I had a dinner party and could invite any 10 people in the world (and actually have them show up). Here are mine. Who are yours?

1.   Daniel Day Lewis (He can just read the phonebook)
2.   Woody Harrelson (Someone has to bring the weed)
3.   Paula Deen (Because mama is hungry)
4.   Puck from the Real World (Because we need entertainment)
5.   Gerard Butler Ryan Gosling (Because I need something to look at he would probably bring a dog)
6.   Sheryl Crow (Because I need to throw my hubby a bone and don't want to punch her)
7.   Zach Galifianakis (Because he is weird and funny)
8.   Michelle Duggar (Because she needs to have a drink and get high to cope with her loss/19 kids)
9.   Dave Matthews (Because we were all in college once)
10. Chelsea Handler (Because I need someone to drink wine and make fun of Puck with)

Preggo my Eggo Update: 38 weeks down, 2 to go.

So I have discovered something about stretch marks and second pregnancies. It isn't that you have to worry about developing NEW stretch marks. What you have to worry about it your OLD stretch marks running like a pair of cheap panty hose. Yikes! It is like they found a chink in my chain and are running with it. Literally. Bastards.

Here are a few questions I am tired of hearing:
Idiot: Aren't you tired of being pregnant?
Me: No. I had a lobotomy before I got pregnant this time so I think this is all super fun.

Idiot: So when is it going to happen?
Me: What am I, f*cking Nostradamus? If I knew that, I would be sunning in Costa Rica until D-day.

Idiot: Wow. You are so big. Are you sure it isn't twins?
Me: Do you want me to punch you in the throat?

Idiot: Are you still here?
Me: No. This is only an illusion. You are just imagining me waddling my a** to the copier. You have a sucky imagination.

I have been told by two Drs, "There is a whole lot of baby in there." No sh*t.

The Confessional

The Confessional is now open. Sometimes you just need to get something off your chest. Whether it be wearing granny panties every day, throwing away that t-shirt of your husband's that you can't stand or lying to your kids about why they can't drink "Mommy's Juice", The Confessional is here. Have something you need to repent for? Me too. I will be confessing a plethora of embarrassing sins/facts about myself while I am on maternity leave, and I welcome you to do the same. Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.

Just to get us started, here is my first sin of many to come: I have Christmas underwear that I wear year-round. They are old, ratty and gross, but I love them. I once wore a cream dress to work and someone pointed out that you could read something on my butt underneath my dress. I jetted before they could figure out that it was "Twinkle" written in red glitter…in June. Oops. The other pair that I wear reads, "Ho Ho Ho". Classy.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 37 weeks down, 3 to go. Get the f*ck out, freeloader.

I have been in an a**load of pain this week. I have some weird problem with the muscle near my right rib getting ripped out in pregnancy and my back right behind it feeling like it is being crushed. These two problems together make me want to punch a kitten. I had the same problems last time. I see a physical therapist but they still hurt like hell. Ugh. Boo hoo. Wah.

I got my first official, "You haven't had that baby yet?" today. Which made me think, what would these people do if I said yes? Next time I think I will reply, "Yeah, I had him last week, he is just an a**hole so I decided to come back to work right away so I don't have to be around him." It reminds me of this excerpt from after I had The Quiet Contemplator:

Stupid Sh*t People Actually Said to Me After I had a Baby

A week after I had the baby, I had to go to a friend’s art opening. I thought I looked pretty damn good for having had a baby a week earlier until three separate people came up to me and said, “Damn, when are you going to have that baby already?” To which I responded, “I had her last week.” To which they responded, “No seriously, when are you due.” Me, “No, seriously, I had her last week.” Commence hysterical tears.

Anyway. Now that I am fully cooked I am just ready to get this freeloader out of my belly and into the real world. Bring on the eggplant, sex and long walks.

3 weeks to freedom

Hospital Checklist

Everyone has a list filled with rediculous crap. Here is mine, filled with the same.

Stay Connected
This is a duh, but bring your laptop to the hospital so you can check email and stay in touch with the real world while you labor (do not post on Facebook that you lost your mucus plug). This is also useful once the baby is here so you can announce to the world that you just lost 15 pounds in 20 minutes. Don't forget your camera cord and laptop charger.

It's Showtime
Download a few movies you have been wanting to watch to your iPad or laptop. Flipping through the hospital TV channels between progression checks gets lame fast. And the last thing you need to watch while in labor is a very scary episode of A Baby Story.

Mood Music
Bring iPod speakers and make some relaxing playlists for your iPod. Labor is much more calm when you are listening to Nick Drake and not the beeps and buzzes of the fetal heart monitor.

Sleep Chic
Bring comfy jammies and slippers. Once you have the baby, you won't want to be stuck laying around in a hospital gown with your a$$ hanging out and you sure as heck won't be donning this season's latest trends. Bring a pair of matching drawstring PJs to wear until you are discharged. Also, the hospital floors you will be roaming around are cold, so bring slippers. I also brought a robe with.

Bring the Boppy
The Boppy is a wonderful thing. It helps you feel more comfortable holding a tiny little newborn. It is also super helpful for those first feedings, whether you do breast or bottle. I brought mine to the hospital and it was awesome to have. I also recommend bringing your own baby blanket. Yes, the hospital provides them, but the ones you picked out are way softer and cuter for pics. Also, bring a zip or button up onesie for the ride home and the car seat.

Formula Mamas
If you don't plan to breastfeed, bring a sports bra and an Ace bandage to wrap your boobs up in. This helps keep your milk from coming in. The hospital bandages are RIDICULOUS. They couldn't hold in a fart, let alone a gigantic set of heaving boobies. So, make sure to invest in a good one and bring it with. Once you are home, I recommend cabbage leave compresses. They stink like hell, but they help (These also help relieve the pain if you breastfeed).

Celebrate being off the Wagon (oh yeah, and the baby)
Bring a bottle of bubbly to celebrate your new-found lack of sobriety and your new life as a family. Once the baby goes to the nursery for the night, pop open the bottle and celebrate your last night of alone time with your hubby and the new vomit-filled journey you are about to embark on. If you can, order in sushi, as well. I already have my order ready to go.

It's ALIVE!

Just for fun, I thought I would post a short vid of My Sponsor making my belly do the wave. Sorry if it grosses you out. Understandable!

Preggo my Eggo Update: 36 weeks down, 4 to go.

Sorry there was no update last week. Things were hectic with Thanksgiving/getting ready for Christmas and I figured y'all were busy trimming your own trees and sh*t.

What I have found since my 34-week update is that 34.5 weeks is officially the time where I was done being f*cking pregnant. I have been coasting through an easy pregnancy this whole time and finally hit a wall. I want my body back. I want to drink alcohol. I want to get up from a sitting position without it sounding like I am giving birth. I want to tie my shoes. I want to see my vagina. Overall, I want to be me again. I think the cause for every woman feeling like this around the 9th month is to make you so willing to get the baby out, that you are no longer scared of actually having a baby. Nature is smart like that.

So what will get me through the next month? Candy Cane Joe Joe's. Oh yeah. Because I just found out they don't contain Red 40 (Don't ask. Stupid ADD daddy and his Master's thesis). I love me some Candy Cane Joe Joe's. I plan to eat about 17 boxes before delivery. Right now I am eating a giant honeybun with white icing from the vending machine. 610 calories well spent in my book.

In related news, if another person comes up to tell me how big I am getting, I might start stabbing people. I just had someone come up and say, "Wow, you are just so big." To which I replied, "Thanks. Because that is just what every girl wants to hear." I might lock myself in my office from here until delivery so I don't have to deliver this baby in prison.

Whoomp! There it is!

A few of my favorite things (Toddler edition).

With the ho-ho-holidays around the corner, I thought I would share a few of my toddler's favorite things with everyone. So here they are, by category. No one paid me for any of these. If any of anyone would like to, I would gladly accept a cashier's check or cash.

Toys:
 
Melissa and Doug Kitchen Set
BPA free and durable.

Melissa and Doug Food Cutting Box Set
BPA Free and builds hand eye coordination.

Green Toys Tea Set
BPA Free and super fun for tea parties.


Rody Horse
Every time we have a party at our house, there is a fight over this toy. Rody rocks.

Melissa and Doug Latches Puzzle
My daughter uses this at school and is crazy about it. Great skill builder.

Bilibo
I don't know what the lure of this thing is, but kids love it. Great for creativity.




Books for Toddlers (We are big readers, so there are a lot.):


Dog
Fun and lots of textures for babies, action of toddlers.


Heads
Fun and lots of textures for babies, action of toddlers. 

Llama Llama Red Pajama 
A favorite in our house.


The Spider and the Fly
A favorite in our house.


If You Give a Cat a Cupcake
A favorite in our house.


Forever Young
A favorite in our house.


Tuesday 
A favorite in our house.


Giraffes Can't Dance


The Pout Pout Fish

A few of my favorite things (Baby edition).

With the ho-ho-holidays around the corner, I thought I would share a few of my favorite baby things with everyone. So here they are, by category. No one paid me for any of these. If any of anyone would like to, I would gladly accept a cashier's check or cash.


Eat (FYI, I was a formula mom--evil, boo, hiss):

Dr. Brown's Bottles
I fought buying these to the very end. They just seemed like too much work to me. They aren't. They are super easy and my daughter never had gas pain once using them. Just don't buy the Dr. Brown's drying rack or dishwashing basket. Get the cheap Munchkin's basket instead.You don't need a drying rack at all if your dishwasher is worth its weight.

Munchkin's Formula Separators
These save so much time if you formula feed. Plus, they make on-the-go bottle preparation effortless. Since we did room temperature formula (like in the NICU), all we had to do was mix in a section of formula with a bottle pre-filled with water, swirl and feed. Awesome.

Fischer-Price Rainforest Healthy Care Booster Seat
We live in a loft. This doesn't leave a lot of room for a big high chair. The best feature, to me, is its portability. We have taken this on trips, to grandma's to restaurants, etc.Plus, the removable toy deck is priceless when trying to entertain a baby AND cook.

Bumpkins Bibs
I love these things. They can hold a crapload of food and never leak. They are also easy to wash and cute. I like them better than other pocketed bibs because they are more flexible and mold to the baby's body more than the stiffer ones.

Baby Cubes
I made my own baby food (cheap hippy) and these were the easiest for storing. I only recommend the 2 ounce ones. Before you know it, chubby will be inhaling 16 ounces a meal, so the one ounce cubes don't cut it for long.

Ninja
This thing rocks. You can go from pureeing peas to making mama a margarita in five seconds flat. Who doesn't love that? I use the crap out of mine.


Sleep (For the baby. You will never sleep again.):

Carter's Gowns
Whether you have a boy or a girl, changing a sh*tty diaper at 3 a.m. is just easier when the baby is in a gown. The Carter's ones are way better than the others I have tried. Don't even bother with the Gerber kind!

Aden and Anais Wraps
These are the best swaddling wraps I have used. They are big enough to get a good baby burrito going, but thin enough to not make the baby a sweaty Betty. I bought bamboo ones for my second go around but can't comment on them yet, though they are so soft I want to make sheets out of them!

Fischer-Price Rainforest Mobile
I recommend a crazy mobile over the cutesy ones any day. Babies don't care if it matches the bedding. They care if it is cool. My daughter was enamored with this from day one. Even after the mobile part was removed and it was just a music box, she still loved it.

Taggie
Hideous. Horrible. Totally necessary. My daughter loves her Taggie woobie. She won't touch any of the cuter ones.


Poop (There will be lots and lots of poop.):

Aquaphor
You know how on the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding the dad thinks that putting Windex on something can cure everything from psoriasis to poison ivy? Well, I kind of feel that way about Aquaphor. I use it on diaper rash, burns, cuts, dry skin, pretty much any ailment a baby can have of the skin. It is awesomeness.

Butt Paste
Way better than Desitin. Doesn't smell toxic either. Plus, it is called Butt Paste and I am an eternal 3rd grader.

ONA Block
OMG. This thing will take the dirty diaper smell out of the diaper itself. We have one in the bottom of our diaper genie and it is a freaking miracle.




Play:

Sophie
My daughter almost gnawed the face off of poor Sophie she loved her so much. Great for beginning teething.

OBall Rattle
An awesome toy for babies. It was my daughter's favorite rattle by far.


Misc.:

Wubbanub
Super cute and babies loves them. My daughter liked it because she could "hug" it to hold on to it when she was just a little baby. I loved it because it didn't fall out as much.

City Mini Stroller
I love this stroller. It is lightweight, folds easily and doesn't make you look like a douche when you push it.

Kiddopotamus Posh Pouch
Way better than the J.J. Cole Bundle Me. Full baby winter coverage in a zip.Plus, it covers everything but the face.

Zo-li Backteether
If it weren't for Zo-li backteethers, I might have ripped The Quiet Contemplator's molars out by hand. The Zo-li is perfect to fit back in the back to chew on and has a gag guard so it won't choke babies. When I gave one to TQC, she was instantly happy. So was I.



Books for Mama-to-Be:

12 Hours by 12 Weeks
If I didn't need it for my unborn child, I would have totally sold my unborn child for the information in this book. Awesome for sleep training. The best lesson: there is no bad habit that can't be broken in three to five days (before your will to live does). Also a super quick read (Ie: less than a day).

The Baby Whisperer
Good general baby info. Easy to understand but a long read.

What to Expect the First Year
Not a phenomenal book, but good for general info.

Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy
Funny and informative.


Belly Laughs
Funny and somewhat informative.


Books for Babies:

Dwell Look 
Great for new eyes to focus on.


Dog
Fun and lots of textures for babies, action of toddlers.


Heads
Fun and lots of textures for babies, action of toddlers. 


In My Tree
Adorable and fun.


Peek-a-Boo Forest
Interactive cloth book.

Advice Under the Influence

Dear I Like Beer and Babies:

We're on our way to having two. Our son will be almost 2.5 when "Dos Equis" (my wishful thinking for a girl) arrives. Are you nervous about your kids sleeping in the same room? I'm worried one will keep the other up or wake each other up when they would have slept longer, so I haven't decided if they will be in the same room. Also we are moving at Christmas into a house we haven't found yet, so it's probably going to be very possible each kid could have their own room.

Basically my question is: make them bunk in the same room and just learn to sleep through the other's foolishness, thereby hardening my children's and my own constitutions (and giving me a full on guest/craft room), or let them have their separate rooms to keep the peace?

-First World Problem Mom


 
Dear FWPM,

First off, I will say that I have absolutely no background of expertise on this subject, but, needless to say, I have opinions on everything. If any of you mamas have experience in this particular area, please comment and let FWPM in on your experience.

Second, let me say, that moving, into a yet-to-be found house, with a toddler, during Christmas, while you can't get drunk to dull the pain, is INSANE, woman. What ARE you thinking?

OK, moving on. So in our situation, bunking up wasn't a choice, but a necessity. We live in a loft and there is no third bedroom to stick My Sponsor in. However, I think that if I DID have the choice, I would still have them share sleeping quarters and have the third room as a play area for their stuff. We raised The Quiet Contemplator to sleep through a dumptruck driving through a nitroglycerin plant. She will sleep through anything and hopefully will sleep through baby brother crying…but only time will tell. Even if she doesn't, it is only a matter of time before their will breaks and they get used to the situation (hopefully before my will to live does). Hell, the Bradys did it and they only has one bad kid. Man, that Jan just ruined everything.

So, my opinion is: keep on crafting, mama. The kids will work it out.

Smooches,
The Beer Bitch

Got a problem for The Beer Bitch? Submit your query to Advice Under the Influence.

Preggo My Eggo Update: 34 weeks down, 6 more to go. Molars are like the ninth circle of hell. Hot sauce is delicious.

So this weekend we revisited the full-on hell that is molars. The Quiet Contemplator was in a lot of pain, therefor threw insanely dramatic fits from sunup to sundown Saturday and Sunday. One time, we were taking her for a walk to get her mind off the searing pain when she decided she DID NOT want to get on her trike and threw the most epic of fits ever. Right in the middle of a hip-and-happening street where people were outside enjoying beers and the warm weather. There were two bike cops standing near us when it happened, so I told TQC, "This is your big chance. Report the abuse now while it is still fresh. Tell these cops how horribly we beat you." The cops, having watched the whole thing go down, almost died laughing while we strolled away with a hysterical toddler. The rest of the hipster crowd looked on in horror while making their checklists of what they will "never do" when they have children. Yeah. Good luck with that. I was you a mere two years ago. Thank God for Zo-li and non-alcoholic beer.

My husband brought up what he thinks is a pregnancy craving of mine. I, however, think it is just deliciousness and is not pregnancy related. I put hot sauce on stuff. A lot of stuff. This all came up when were were out to dinner and I asked for a side of hot sauce to dip my fries in. He said that it was weird and borderline disgusting. I said that it is delicious and something I would have done before I got knocked up.

Mmmmm…hot sauce.

Last time I was pregnant, my condiment of choice was mayonnaise. I once asked for a side of mayo with a BLT that is advertised as featuring, "over a pound of bacon." When I placed my order, the waitress asked, "So you want the mayo on the side?" I said, "No, you can put it on the sandwich, I just want some on the side, too." She replied, "Are you serious?" I replied, "Yes." Don't judge my fat intake when I am pregnant and eating a sandwich with half a pig on it. Just bring the freaking mayonnaise.

Also, I have to see this every day when I get more water at work. It is like being punched in the face repeatedly.

Going from 1 to 2

So a few weekends ago, we worked on converting The Quiet Contemplator's room into The Quiet Contemplator's/My Sponsor's room. Below are the final results. Yes, it is still girly, but I am NOT painting or decorating again. We rearranged, added a crib, added the closet curtain, got new storage, etc. It was a super stressful process making it all work in one room, but I am happy with the end result.

The Quiet Contemplator's crib/My Sponsor's crib

Storage and Toys

Changing Area

My Sponsor's crib Details

Reading Nook

Storage Details

Art Details

Art Details

Full Room View (That is not a door to the nursery to the left, just the laundry room door left open. And the gate is to keep the cat out, not the babies in.)

Full Room View

Advice Under the Influence

Yay! We have our first request for advice. It seems our friend is having a KadrASSian-sized conundrum about getting her sweetie to pop the questions. Read on to learn more.


Dear I Like Beer and Babies:

I have been with my boyfriend for more than a decade now, and we have been living together for nearly that long. I know he has a ring, but I can't help getting mad that wretched gross evil people have gotten married and here I am still sitting on the sidelines. How do I stop feeling like wearing a white dress is a competition that I am constantly losing? Especially when people who are famous for *ahem* get married, make a ton of cash, and then get a quickie divorce.

Sincerely,
Can't Help Competing



Dear CHC,

First off, here is some food for thought: getting married just gives your husband a document that makes it legal for him to fart in public while you are stuck next to him as the women who vowed to stay with him in good times and in bad. Is it really worth the free toaster?

Second, if it has been ten years and you know the ring exists and its location, just start wearing it and telling everyone the good news. Men are very forgetful. Chances are, if you "remind him" of how romantic his proposal was and slip in a few details that sound true to his character--like the fact that he forgot the champagne so he brought Miller High Life instead--he will most likely believe you.

Third, I am pretty sure there is a commandment about Thou Shall Not Covet a Kardashian's Anything. If not, there should be. Also, the "famous" people you are talking about are often only famous for making a sex tape. So, if you are looking to make some cold hard cash off your nuptials, maybe set up a "recording studio" in your garage, find yourself a B-list celebrity partner and you are minutes away from uploading to youtube stardom. (BTW, etiquette guru Lizze Post said that the aforementioned "famous" person should return all of her gifts, so even if you do the quickie wedding, no toaster for you.)

Smooches,
The Beer Bitch

Got a problem for The Beer Bitch? Submit your query to Advice Under the Influence.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 33 weeks down, 7 to go. I am exhausted and I smell like pee.

I am a mess. I am exhausted, overly emotional and tired of smelling like pee. Yes, I smell like pee. For some reason (yes, I pretty much know why, but it still sucks), I leak pee. Like, all of the time. I also cry a lot. I won't say for no reason, but I cry way more than necessary. Top that off with dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, and I am quite a prize. A pee-smelling, mascara-running, zombie of a prize.

To sum things up: I would punch a kitten to have a bottle of wine and lay on the couch eating pizza and watching bad TV by myself today.

Oh, on a side note, apparently if you Google, "i like sex with dog", you get led to my site. Not one, but two people did that this week (hence, the removal of all pictures of The Quiet Contemplator from this site). So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.

33 weeks and counting...

Preggo my Eggo Update: 32 weeks down, 8 to go. People, please stop trying to will my vagina to expel things.

Dear man at the gym: Hi. I just want to let you know that I can see you. Yes, you. Unfortunately, your power to make yourself invisible has worn off. No, I am not going to go into labor today. No, you staring at my stomach the entire time I am on the treadmill enjoying an episode of A Baby Story will not will me to go into labor. Also, when you finally peel your eyes off my belly long enough to lurk at my TV screen instead of your own, only to see a baby coming out of a woman's vagina, it is not OK to look horrified. How exactly do you think pregnancy ends? The stork is a myth, BTW.

Dear Me at the gym: People think you are crazy. Yes, they do. Though you are all hormonal from the pregnancy stuff, it is not OK to cry when something super sweet happens on TV, like a man who was deployed while his wife gave birth returning home and seeing his baby for the first time. Everyone at the gym is not watching what you are watching and they just think you are some lunatic pregnant woman who can't keep her schmidt together. Knock it off. And stop watching A Baby Story for f*cks sake!

32 weeks and counting...

Eat, Sleep, Poop and Play

I often found, when faced with my crying newborn, that I just kind of froze and had no idea what the problem could be. It was like all time and space stopped and my mind was a complete blank. It was just me and a crying bag of goo that needed something. What that something was, I was too far gone on The Postpartum Crazy Train to figure out. I found that this list helped me. Hope it helps you, too.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 31 weeks down, 9 to go. (Goats are sh*tty hairdressers.)

Friday I had my 30-week checkup and all is well. My Sponsor is weighing in at a hearty 3 pounds, 8 ounces and everything looks great. The only problem: I think my ultrasound technician is obsessed with My Sponsor's balls. I get an ultrasound every four to six weeks to monitor two fibroid tumors that I have. The tumors are no big deal, the Drs just like to keep an eye on them. Well, all of the ultrasounds result in a lot of baby pictures. No good ones, mind you, just a lot of pictures of my son's balls. I find this very weird. Every time we go, she prints me out a picture of his junk with the words, "It's a boy!" next to them. I get it. He has a penis, but do I really need physical proof to show to all of my friends and family? Aren't they called "privates" for a reason? Show the little guy some common courtesy and let him have a little privacy for his in-utero peen. Plus, what am I going to do with 16 pictures of his baby balls?

Me at 31 weeks. You don't get to see my baby's balls, sicko.

Anyway. After our appt, ADD Daddy and I spent the day preparing for My Sponsor. We washed clothes, washed bottles, put everything away and redid The Quiet Contemplator's room to be The Quiet Contemplator's/My Sponsor's room (we live in a two-bedroom loft so they will be bunking up. pictures to come soon.).

After all the heavy lifting on Friday, we decided to have a little fun on Saturday. We headed out to a local wild animal park/petting zoo to enjoy the beautiful day and be attacked by horrible, demon-seed goats feed cute little miniature goats bottles of milk. After we bought our milk, The Quiet Contemplator and I headed into the goat yard. Well, we were there early so apparently the goats were REALLY hungry. Once we got inside the yard, about 50 goats hellbent on being the one to suck the sweet milk of life from the teet of our bottle, swarmed us. I had my arm out protecting TQC from hooves to the face while two goats attacked me and literally ate my hair. The goats had me by the scalp and were jerking me backward while I screamed, "They're eating my hair! They're eating my hair!" to the horror of all the assholes who stood around and laughed on-looking families. By the time my husband got the goats off of me, I had lost some hair. A lot of hair. I pulled out four huge clumps from what I could detangle from all the goat spit and even more in the bath later. Moral of the story: goats make excellent henchmen sh*tty hairdressers.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 30 weeks down, 10 to go.

I am still running! Yay! Well, not exactly running, but waddling faster than a walk during segments of House Hunters/A Baby Story, then walking during the commercials. Unless I have a contraction that makes me want to pee myself. Then I have to walk either way. Don't worry, you don't have to hate me and unsubscribe. I am still downing cheese sticks and cupcakes and packing on the weight. I'm no Gwyneth. I just like to run short distances very slowly, pregnant or not. I feel that it is all about to come to an end, but I am super stoked to have made it this far. Things have been a lot easier this time and I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I have been more active.

WTF Comment of the Week:
WTF Commentator: How have you been feeling?
Me: I have felt really good this time around. It has been a lot easier than last time.
WTF Commentator: Well you know what they say, "Easy pregnancy. Hard baby."
Me: Oh. OK.

What I wanted to say was, "I should punch you in the neck for saying something like that to me." What does that even mean? I should hope for a horrible pregnancy so I don't have an a$$hole baby? Sounds like I am in for 9 months of hell either way. I guess I will take the option that allows me to drink while I cry.

Anyway.

Hi, my name is Julie and I am a closet pickle eater. I find that I am embarrassed to eat pickles while pregnant. I feel like if anyone catches me they will make a big deal out of it and I will have to crush their heads. It is just pickle to go on the side of my sandwich people. It isn't like a made a chocolate shake out of them!

Closet Pickle Eater

Top 10 Differences Between your First and Subsequent Pregnancies

Though all pregnancies are special, your first tends to get a bit more of the red carpet treatment than any pregnancies that follow. Here are my top 10 differences between first pregnancies and any that occur after.

10. The Learning Curve

The First: you read every book known to man about pregnancy, childbirth, childcare, environmental toxins, diet and exercise, etc.
Subsequent Pregnancies: you read People magazine in the spare three minutes you get to yourself each day. Hey, you have to find out what Brad and Angelina are up to somehow.

9. Diet

The First: you make sure that you eat a perfect, balanced diet while pregnant so the baby will have every advantage from day one.
Subsequent Pregnancies: you eat spare chicken nuggets off your toddler's plate while cleaning up after dinner and getting ready for bedtime.

8. Diagnosing Mystery Ailments

The First: if any little thing just doesn't feel right, you call your OBGYN.
Subsequent Pregnancies: if anything short of a limb falling off happens, you say it will be fine and keep on moving.

7. Your Social Life

The First: you still go out with friends and stay out a little later than you want just so they don't think that having a baby is going to change you.
Subsequent Pregnancies: short of them offering you free tickets to lick Gerard Butler's abs, you tell your friends to go fuck themselves, you're pregnant.

6. Nursery Preparedness

The First: everything in your nursery is washed, organized, perfectly matched and ready for baby by the time you hit 25 weeks.
Subsequent Pregnancies: Baby? Oh, crap. I am having another one of those? In a panic, you start doing last-minute preparations for the baby around 39 weeks.

5. Extracurricular Activities

The First: you practice prenatal yoga and water aerobics and take every childbirth and child-rearing class that is offered.
Subsequent Pregnancies: you don't have time to think, let alone take a class with a bunch of first-time moms who want to talk about what labor is going to be like. It is going to suck. Then it will be over. The end.

4. Talking/Thinking About Baby

The First: you think and talk about your pregnancy 24-hours a day. It is the only thing you can think about right now.
Subsequent Pregnancies: you think about your pregnancy twice the entire time: once when the stick shows two lines instead of one, and again when your water breaks and it is time to head to the hospital.

3. Weight Gain

The First: you worry about proper weight gain and what you are going to look like after the baby comes.
Subsequent Pregnancies: you supersize everything and get dessert after. F*ck it. I am going to get stretch marks either way. Why not live a little?

2. Fetal Movements

The First: feeling your baby kick will make you stop what you are doing no matter how important it seemed. This is the miracle of life, people!
Subsequent Pregnancies: when your baby kicks, it is still great and all, but if you were on your way to get a donut, you aren't stopping to embrace it. It will happen again after the donut. Babies like donuts.

1. What Your Baby Will be Like

The First: you think that your baby will be the second coming of Christ.
Subsequent Pregnancies: you know there is a good chance that your baby will be an asshole that will cry for hours on end for no reason and vomit in your hair right after you finally got a spare minute to wash it.


If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram. 

Preggo my Eggo Update: 29 weeks down, 11 to go.

So by the time December rolls around, I am officially going to be so big that I make people feel uncomfortable when they are around me. I have about 2.5 months left and people are already asking me when that baby is going to get here already. Um…New Years. It's not even Halloween yet. There are a lot of other pregnant girls at my work who are due around the same time as me and when I stand next to them, I look like I ate their babies and went for ice cream after. One of them is having twins. That can't be good. I am loving how big I am, but a little worried about fitting through doorways, in cars and whatnot by the end of the year.

Keep in mind, I am only SIX MONTHS!

The Daycare Plague

For those of you that work full time and aren't lucky enough to have a relative crazy enough to watch your kid(s) for free, you are faced with the hell that is daycare. Don't get me wrong, daycare is a wonderful place and my daughter loves it, but like anything else, it has its drawbacks.

My main pain with daycare is the illnesses it brings. MY GOD there are so many and they come so often. If you send your kid to group care, they will get sick. A lot. Like a whole lot. Then you will get sick. A lot. Like a whole lot. Like you will think your family's immune system has been replaced with that of a 95-year-old cancer patient’s. It SUCKS.

When your kids get sick, they will still play and laugh and eat. When you get sick, you will feel like death is a wonderful option to get out of what you currently feel like. After about a year, your kids will stop getting sick as much. A little after that, you will stop. Before that time, you will get the flu a few times, the poops innumerable times, colds, pink eye, upper respiratory infections, roseola, fevers, hand, foot and mouth disease, etc. Yay!

Basically, your days of calling in sick to work so you can drink beer at the game all day are over. Now, you will be out of sick days before the 4th of July even hits. Frivolous sick days are gone, replaced with the need to swap your vacation and holidays for days filled with explosive diarrhea and projectile vomiting. Aren't kids great?

Preggo my Eggo Update: 28 weeks down, 12 to go.

So it's official: I am now pregnant enough to pee when I sneeze. Que me picking up The Quiet Contemplator on Tuesday night with a wad of McDonald's napkins stuffed in my underwear. Classy. Anyway...

Lately, I have found that pregnancy is a great awkward silence filler. Last week I had to go to a work party for two women that were retiring. Where this would usually be torture for me since it is hard for me to censor my diarrhea of the mouth at work functions, it was actually easy and almost fun. People you would normally have nothing to talk about with now have something to act interested in you about. And, all of a sudden, you are the life of the party. Everyone wants to know how you are feeling, when you are due, what's the baby's sex, do you have a name picked out, will you be taking drugs in the hospital or chanting and squatting over a tub in your living room? Obviously, I hate the handsy bastards that think it is OK to touch my stomach when asking me about the baby, but they are few and far between and can feel the searing burn of my gaze when their hand goes anywhere near my gut.

Overall, I just really like not having to come up with mundane crap to talk with strangers, family and co-workers about. Can I just pretend to be pregnant forever so I never have to deal with actually acting interested in people again? That would rock.

Yes, I am pregnant. Let's talk about that.

On another note:
While explaining to my husband that an awesome reader came to my defense and called another reader "Gwyneth" when she called me a bad mom, the following conversation unfolded:

ADD Daddy: But why would she call her Gwyneth?
Me: Gwyneth, as in Gwyneth Paltow. Moms hate her.
ADD Daddy: Why do mom's hate Gwyneth Paltrow? Is it because she named her kid Apple?
Me: Because she feeds her kids all organic, cooks 8-course dinners every night and is married to the hot dude from Coldplay.
ADD Daddy: Oh. OK.

And scene.

Based on 99.9% of our conversations, I think my husband thinks that I have way too much time on my hands/have some sort of mental disability. In the long run, though, what does that really say about him? He is the one that married me.

Registry Hell

Registering for a baby can be an experience that will leave you muttering and rocking in a dark corner somewhere. It is not near as fun as it sounds like it is going to be. Here are a few tips to help you along the way:

Register early. You will change your mind and find out all kinds of new things during the process of registering. Do not wait until a month before your showers to do this. You will regret it.

Babies “R” Us might be what Hell is like. Just know, the first time you go to Babies “R” Us (BRU), you will probably be so overwhelmed you will cry. It is a horrible, yet necessary, place. Get used to it. It gets easier.

Make your first registry trip with your husband to pick out big things like strollers, cribs, etc. Leave him at home for all the rest. He DOES NOT care what kind of bibs you get, diapers you buy, breast pump you choose, etc. Take another trip with a friend who already has kids and can give you tips. Take yet another trip alone so you can spend 20 minutes obsessing over whether the kelly green bib really does match your carseat as well as the sage green ones you already registered for.

You CAN get everything at BRU, but some people are scared of that place, so register somewhere neutral, like Target. I know that I, personally, would never go to BRU for a shower gift. I hate that place.

Though you have a little girl or a bouncing baby boy this time, that doesn't mean you will the next time. So go neutral on the big stuff like carseats, strollers, pack ‘n’ plays, etc. Otherwise you will have to buy all new if you have a boy/girl next time or deal with the repercussions when your kid is 20...

Don’t feel bad about registering for some pricey items. People like to go in on group gifts and going the cheapest route on everything is neither fun nor wise. Do not, however, be the a$$hole that registers for top-of-the-line of everything. No one is going to buy you a $500 diaper bag. Get over it.

Register for a few types of everything (strollers, carseats, etc). Then, come home and start reading the reviews on the web. VERY useful. Some seem great in the stores and then get HORRIBLE reviews. You will then have to take them off your registry. Since you already have a backup, no need to venture into hell, I mean BRU, again.

Ask other mommies what they loved/hated, used/didn’t use. Other moms are your greatest resource when you have questions about baby stuff. Though beware: some will say you HAVE to have a wipe warmer, other will say it is dumb (it is). Same goes with most things, just take it all in, then form your own opinions.

Don’t be tacky. Yes, you can register for your after-birth jumbo maxi pads and tummy-sucking-in-wrap, but don’t. Gross, girlfriend. Some things a mommy needs to keep private. Also, if you decide to breastfeed, get someone you know is going to buy you a big gift (like your mother or grandmother) to get you the breast pump you want without adding it to your registry. I think it is a bit gauche to remind everyone that peruses your registry that you will soon be milking yourself. Plus, it saves you the awkwardness of opening it as a gift from your co-workers at a co-ed work shower. Shivers.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 27 weeks down, 13 to go. (Mickey Rourke, stay away from my vagina.)

I made it! I finally hit the third trimester. Yay!

I went to the liquor aisle of my grocery store looking for a good bottle of wine for my hubby's birthday this week. That was stupid. It was like giving me a delicious piece of chocolate cake that punches me in the face every time I touch it with a fork*. Needless to say, ADD Daddy didn't get any wine and I left the store feeling like a junior high kid after a night of dry humping: keyed up and unfulfilled.

The other night I said to my husband, "We have a problem. I think my "area" is starting to look like Mickey Rourke." He replied, "Um...OK. That's not good." Exactly. So, due to increased blood flow and the pressure of My Sponsor using it as a hammock, my stuff is starting to resemble a resurging actor from the '80s that didn't know when to say when with the plastic surgery. Ew. I know.

At least better than Mickey.

*I miss you, Bob Rybarczyk. Suburban Fringe was awesomeness.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 26 weeks down, 14 to go.

I had my 26-week OB appt yesterday. When I checked in for my glucose test, they asked me when I had stopped drinking (meaning the sugar stuff for the test). I replied, "About six months ago." Three of the nurses fell of their chairs laughing. Two had to leave the room. I knew what they meant, I just couldn't resist.

I am closing in on the third trimester. It is a great feeling. Not because I am almost done, but because My Sponsor is now at a point where things will be OK, no matter what. That just takes a lot of weight off.

We have an out-of-town wedding this weekend. Not looking forward to 14 hours in a car (7 all in one day) or spending an entire weekend away from The Quiet Contemplator. The closer we get to D-day, the more and more I already feel like I miss her. The thought of her not being the only apple of my eye makes me sad. I know she will do awesome with the transition because she loves to share and is all-around perfect (no doing of ours), but I just feel bad that I won't get to spend as much quality time with her. Plus, we are about to expose her to boy cooties-yuck!

Overall, I have just been more emotional this week. Odd, because I haven't really been this entire pregnancy. The testosterone must be making me strong like bull. Maybe I just need another hit to take the edge off...

Yep, it's beheaded me, again.

Labor and Delivery

A few sage words of advice about Labor and Delivery:

The first most important rule of labor is: TAKE DRUGS. The second most important rule of labor is: TAKE DRUGS. Not only should you take the drugs, but you should take them the second they are offered to you. God put someone on this planet smart enough to invent the epidural. Say a quick thank you to the big man above for being so generous and order yourself one up. There is no reason to go through any pain. I didn’t and the most painful part of my entire birthing experience was getting the IV. Thank you, Jesus. Oh, and for all of you strong women out there that give birth without drugs, here is a small round of applause for you. Hippies. (Just kidding. Go, Ricki! Go, Ricki!)

See, look how happy drugs made me. And this was AFTER labor.

Also, take drugs after your delivery. They prescribe them to you for a reason. Your “area” will have received a beating 18x as bad as a pack of midgets could deliver with their tiny fists. You are not going to get hooked on aspirin and leave your baby crying in its crib while you get your next hit of Aleve. Take what the Dr prescribes you as directed. Once you feel pain, it is too late and you will be a crabby mommy and have a crabby baby.

Since you have now taken drugs and are a comfortable and happy mommy, one more note: take some stool softeners. Both while in, and after you are out, of the hospital. Believe me, after delivering your baby, pooping will become the scariest idea in the world to you. Painkillers tend to slow down the poop pipes. The last thing you want to be worried about when you are already in enough pain in the nether regions is a painful #2. If you take the stool softeners everything will go a little more…um…smoothly.

Also, don’t have the baby sleep in your room while you are in the hospital. Whether you had a great labor or a terrible one, you are exhausted and now is the last time you will have uninterrupted sleep for the rest of your life. Take advantage of it so you are the best and most alert mommy you can be when you head home. Leaving the hospital already strung out from lack of sleep is going to make the journey home and the settling into your new life HARD.

Oh! And take the hospital snot sucker home. These work 100x better than the ones at the store and when you need one at 2 a.m., you don’t want one that sucks (well, that doesn’t suck).

Preggo my Eggo Update: 25 weeks down, 15 to go.

Last week, I was reading in one of my pregnancy books for week 24. It said, "by now, you should have gained between 14 and 16 pounds." Wow, thanks for the wide range there. I just think that small of a range sets every mama who doesn't land within those magic three pounds up to feel like a failure. I am above that number, fo' sho. Should I feel bad about that? No. 

We are all different. Some of us will gain 80 pounds just looking at a brownie, others will stay below 25 while spending their entire pregnancy saddled up at the buffet. I just think giving a three-pound range this far in the game is a bit redic. I think that there should be a 50-pound range from start to finish. We all know what is good for us and our babies. Just do what feels right and try to sneak some healthy stuff in there along the way. If you have gained 25 when it says you should have only gained 15, suck it up and move on. Nothing you can do about it now. I will end every pregnancy over 200 pounds. No biggie. Now pass the nachos.

Stripes are...ah...slimming.

Things You Need Before Baby Arrives

You know you are going to need diapers, a crib, bottles, etc., before baby gets here. But there are a few little-known items that you are going to need to stock up on before your bouncing bundle arrives. Such as:

1. 25 rolls of industrial-strength paper towels (to mop up all sorts of baby bodily fluids).
2. A case of Kleenex (to mop up all of the mommy tears you will be shedding).
3. A lobotomy. It isn't necessary, but it will make it much easier to deal with the schmidt you are about to encounter.
4. A hazmat suit. This is about the only way that you are going to walk away from a newborn unscathed by pee, poop, vomit, etc.
5. The fancy toilet paper. If your baby comes the traditional route, you are going to be a little sensitive down there. That Scott's crap is not going to cut it. Do your vag a favor: pony up for the good stuff.
6. A swimming cap. Babies are attracted to mommies hair like flies to fly paper, which is appropriate, because somehow their little baby hands possess the same stick-factor.
7. A case of beer and handle of vodka. I don't think I need to explain these necessities.

Preggo my Eggo Update: 24 weeks down, 16 to go.

Things have been going smoothly lately. Baby is getting bigger, my a$$ is getting bigger, etc. A little bit of back pain here and there, but that is par for the course. Overall, I am enjoying being pregnant more the second time than I did the first. There is just less to worry about, learn and prepare for. I know what lies ahead and it is not that bad. A few months of sleepless night are worth a tiny drooling pile of goo falling asleep on my chest.

24 weeks and counting...

To try to incorporate some healthy(er) food into my ravenous sweet tooth, I tried a recipe for apple muffins and they were delish! Hope you enjoy them as much as we did.

Apple Yogurt Muffins

Muffin Ingredients:
1 cup sugar
1 cup white flour
1 cup wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 large red delicious apples (peeled, cored, quartered, then diced)
1/3 cup chopped walnuts
2 large eggs
1 cup fat free Greek yogurt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted

Topping Ingredients:
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.Place cupcake liners inside a 12-cup standard muffin tin.
2. Mix sugar, flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg in a medium bowl. Add diced apples and walnuts, tossing to coat. Whisk together eggs, yogurt and butter in a small bowl. Gently fold the liquid mixture into the flour mixture. Don’t overmix or the muffins will be tough. Divide batter evenly among 12 muffin cups (they will be full!).
3. In a small bowl, mix brown sugar with cinnamon. Sprinkle mixture over the tops of the muffins.
4. Bake for 16 to 18 minutes or until muffins are brown around edges and spring back when touched. 
5. Devour at least two muffins with milk while they are still warm. Once you are satisfied, let the fam know you made muffins and share if there are any left.