"Mom, can't we use the cord blood to cure dad's liver disease?"
"Honey, I'm sorry we didn't store the cord blood, it was too expensive"
"But didn't we have 4 televisions, a laptop and a brand new dishwasher in the house when I was born....???"
"Well, they weren't flat screens"
So, like I said, I've been ebaying away for the past month - racking up some decent coin in an effort to avoid that future conversation.
On to recent pregnancy happenings:
I have two pair of maternity blue jeans. A few weeks ago I apparently sat in something that resembles a crap stain right on my butt. Chris pointed out the stain to me initially- after I'd been out and about shopping all day in pants that looked like I had pooped myself. Since, I have tried all the stain removers and just decided that I'm not going to buy new pants, I try to wear long shirts, and so what if someone thinks I crapped myself...I'm pregnant (P.S.- that excuse is becoming way too easy to toss around for almost anything - like using the C word at work or burping/farting loudly in public). So yesterday I have on the crap pants, and while I'm cooking dinner (whoa! for the second time this month) Chris says, "I can't believe you're still wearing those shit stained pants." To which I unleashed a series of "I can't believe" isms about him that had nothing to do with my pants, but made it clear that will not tolerate unsolicited fashion advice at this point in my pregnancy. I then demanded that he promptly go to the mall and purchase a new pair of pants for me, since they are so cheap and maternity pants with 36" inseams are super easy to come by. Poor guy didn't know what hit him, but hey, I'm pregnant.
I have pretty much been in a no photo zone for the past 6 months - but the other day at my friend Rikki's house I decided I wanted a picture with some of my friends. I'm not going to show the whole picture, but I will show a portion of my shirt:
What the hell is that? I walked around all day with whatever this is on my shirt, and no one said a word to me. Not my husband when I walked out the door, not my friends who spent all day with me...later they said they thought my shirt was wet...Yes, I was going for the wet tshirt look.
This just reaffirms my commitment to be in a no photo zone for the next month. If this is what happens when I'm actually trying to look nice and allowing myself to be photographed, dear god I wonder what kind of a hot mess I look like right now.
Ongoing:
I heart caffeine. I've been drinking it - much less than I was before I got pregnant, but more than "they" say you're supposed to. Since going cold turkey on alcohol and cigs, my initial ban on coffee only lasted through my first trimester. I figure a little coffee isn't going to be the death of me or babe, but no coffee could lead to the death of those around me. My darling husband, while drinking his 5th beer a few weekends ago and coming in from a smoke break, asked me if my diet coke was caffeine free...I'm wondering how much longer I can take it until I snap. I mean it is surely only a matter of another situation or two before I go full on banana sandwiches crazy. No longer a matter of if, but rather when, a vehicle shows up to take one of us to either jail, the morgue or the loony bin.
One more thing:
Today we had our departmental holiday party here at work. We do a pollyanna/white elephant gift exchange. This year all gifts had to begin with the letter "O" I was able to trade my "Oceans Eleven" DVD for a bottle of Orange Smirnoff...I then glared icily at anyone who even considered trying to swipe it from me. They all knew better, so now I have some booze to sit on my kitchen counter and serve as a beacon of hope for the home stretch.
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