Wednesday, August 31, 2011

My defination of licking is different

I was going to write a nice post, one that was soft and fuzzy and had something to do with my unborn baby, but I can't remember what it was. I going to have to start writing shit down.

I have a Pinterest account and on the account I have a board called "I want to lick this". Only recently I have started to wonder if people understand what I am saying when I want to "lick" something. I am on the look out for peoples faces when I do say it, but it seems most people I talk to are used to me by now.

My definition of "licking" basically means I am calling something delicious, or delicious looking. I usually don't use this term to describe people, but most everything else.
Ex: "Oh my gosh, your new staircase looks amazing! I want to lick it!"

Personally I think my compliment is much more appropriate then when people say they want to "gobble you up" or "I could just eat you" they sound like cannibals, and if someone did look delicious enough to eat then they are greedy, not even thinking about leaving some for others.

"Licking" is so much better. One you never say it about a human, so your not a cannibal. And two it proves you know how to share. Instead of taking the whole thing, you just want a little taste, a little lick.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Grilled cheese and childhood

Sunday we went to my In-laws house to celebrate a birthday. While waiting for the food my sister-in-law Mailyn (who will soon be 12), my cousin-in-law Maddy (age 10) and I discussed which resturants we have only ate breakfast at, (we all agreed on Bob Evans), that Texas Roadhouses rolls and mac 'n' cheese was the greatest, and who had the best grilled cheese.
We all couldn't decide, then Maddy nodded her head in desicion, "Applebees"
And she was totally right, Applebees grilled cheese is so the best.

It surprised me on how much I had in common with these girls. My first thought was, "Aw, they're growing up."
Then I realized that we didn't have an in depth discussion about world peace, but where the best grilled cheese was.
They might be growing up, but I am staying a kid.

Pink, blue....White

So everyone is getting excited about buying baby clothes, they say they can't wait til we find out the gender to start shopping.
You know so they can buy pink or blue stuff.

I, however, and really excited to start buying white stuff. White oneies, white burp clothes, white socks, white blankets, little tiny white hats. I am getting super excited just writing it down. Hehehehehe.

Not sure why white, maybe because it can get super clean? Maybe because I associate white with comfy?
Whatever the reason I am super excited, and AND the best part is I do not have to wait to find out the sex to buy these things.

My baby is going to look like a tiny adorable angel.

ps. I totally plan on embroidering little wings into a few of babys oneies.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

This has nothing at all to do with being preggo

Actually I guess it kinda does...

Penis Envy is true! You are prolly saying in your head right now, "no no, I do not want a penis" BUT WAIT! You might already own one! The answer:

Okay, nevermind, it has nothing to do with being preggo.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Oh yeah!

I almost got to touch a squirrel today.


Its getting bigger

While brushing my teeth this morning, some toothpaste fell from my mouth to the sink.
Or at least thats what I thought since thats where it goes every other time it falls.
It landed on my belly was blocking the sink. I grew a shelf.

Only 3

Sitting here fucking around on the my computer and eating donuts with coffee, I just looked over at the nutrition facts.

Turns out three donuts is one serving size.

I can't remember how many I have ate.

ps. I know its more than 3

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Ten things baby and me HAVE to do.

Okay so I just finished reading that American Baby magazine that did actually have another stupid article in it, plus one kinda of fun one. The fun one was about annoying people that you will meet along the way, and it would have been better if the author had offered other comebacks that weren't as nice.
Ex: Author mentioned that her and her 8 month preggo friend were out having lunch and when the friend ordered decaf coffee and a piece of cherry pie the waitress yelled, "You can't have that!"
The friend apparently started crying, which is sad. But I think the appropiate response would be "It's either the pie and coffee or a hunk out of your cheek."

Anyhoo, for some reason the article got me thinking about all the stuff that I want baby to experience, yes I'm not sure how an article about rude waitress' got me thinking about this either but whatever, and I'm really excited to do this stuff!

1) Definatly want my baby to touch a squirrel, I didn't get to touch one til my sophmore year in college when I snuck up on one and I don't want my baby to have to wait that long. I'm just going to have to figure out an escape plan if it chases us.

2) Chicken Nuggets of course!

3) Creek walking. Mike wants to be in charge of fishing, swamping, hiking, etc. But I am going to have to take baby on my version of creek walking, where you catch really tiny crawdads, get so messy people look at you and wonder how you got mud up to your ears in water two feet deep, and then release everything we catch so we can find them next time.

4) Read them the fairy tale stories by Gail Carson Levine, I have all of them so no problem there. And I don't care if baby is a boy, good stories are for everyone, especially my baby.

5) Using the stairs as a slide. This is done with sleeping bags, the top of a toy box, large pillows, or (if you can't find any of that stuff) your ass. This will have to wait until baby gets a little bigger because injuries are always involved.

6) Driving a car. I know what your thinking, 'Duh Bryn, of course you kid will drive a car', but my version is prolly cooler....and scarier. I want baby to experience driving a car without being able to reach the pedals. That makes it funner.

7) Take a bath while wearing clothing. If you have never done it, then somewhere your life has taken a wrong turn.

8) Coloring on the walls. This is seen as a 'no-no' and I don't understand why. First we shall try chalk, just for practice, then after that it doesn't really matter. Hell, maybe we will even dedicate an entire wall to drawing. How fun!

9) Reese Cups, Coke a Cola, and Lays Cheese and Sour Cream chips. All at the same time.

I can't think of a tenth thing....woops

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Top ten baby names, poop

Just saw the top ten baby names in a magazine. Number three on the boys is the name we are going to use, Michael. We are naming our boy after Mike, so he will be a junior, the baby not big Mike. It took me a while to get on board with it at first, but I am totally for it now.

Now the sucky part is that if the name is in the top three, when our baby, if its a boy, goes to school then EVERYONE is going to have the name Michael. Poo.

Our girl name isn't on the top ten list, thank goodness. Its Molly, isn't that pretty :).

I'm not worried about telling anyone our baby names because if someone likes our names and then steals them and uses them, I am still going to name our babys Michael and Molly.
And then when I see your child, you name stealer, I am just going to tell them their parents are un creative and thiefs.


Tuesday, August 23, 2011

I read, and learn people are stupid

 I found an article in American Baby that I totally disagree with. Finding this article is like a freaking fate cuz I was just thinking the opposite!
Name of the article: Pregnant & Loving It
First of all the introduction uses the wording 'downright delightful' which I seriously can not think of a situation I would use those words without sarcasm, and in no way should be used to describe pregnancy. Its weird.
They broke there reasons for loving pregnancy into paragraph sections, and since I love you, I will be summarizing these into one to two sentences. My thoughts will be in italic.

You Munch With Meaning: basically it says cuz you are worried about your babies health, you eat healthier. So now you only eat really healthy stuff.
I am eating a lot healthier, in fact I have almost completely rearranged my eating habits. I hate it. I ate all kinds of good things before, good TASTING things. Now I eat all this healthy shit, and I have gained zero weight because of it. When baby pops out its back to coffee through out the day and all the chocolate I can inhale.

You Boogie With The Bump: this paragraph can be summed up with a quote, "When you're working out for two, breaking a sweat feels more enjoyable."
No, no it doesn't. You are a liar. My temperature is high all the time now because of those lovely hormones and I get dizzy if I move to much. Damn liar.

You Could Be Fighting Breast Cancer: if you conceive before 30, you may lower your risk for breast cancer. "Researchers aren't sure why."
Almost had me there, except of course when I read that 'may' part, oh and the part about researchers not knowing why. Which makes it sound like they made it up. Also the fact that my grandmother, great aunt, and great grandmother all had children in their 20s and still have lumps in their breasts. How about that for research.

You Get Smarter: you grow wiser, because you aren't drinking and smoking anymore. Also you have a doctor on call 24/7 to help you make the best descion.
Ha! I'm not sure how not drinking helps you grow wiser, but not being able to have an occasional beer SUCKS. And if you need to call the doctor for every descion you make, you were stupid to begin with. I am actually backpedaling in the brain cell category, yesterday I forgot to rinse the conditioner out of my hair, and twice a week I try to leave the house without shoes.

You're The Center Of Attention: once you start showing everyone loves you. You get to cut in line for a long bathroom line, people carry things for you, hold doors, and bring you chairs to prop your feet up on. "So enjoy!"
You needy selfish bitch. I make jokes about not being able to do normal things cuz I am preggo, but to expect to be treated like a queen is bullshit. Stop it.

You Learn To Go Zen: the breathing and relaxation techniques you learn in childbirth classes help you after the birth to, well relax. When your toddler throws a fit in the store you will use the relaxation methods.
I am honestly not sure how this is helpful. Before I got preggy I learned how to relax myself, so I'm good. And I'm pretty sure that a child leash and chocolate bribery will be more effective than knowing how to breathe if your kid throws a fit in a store.

Surprise Yourself: watching your body transform is amazing. "Pregnant women are proud of their body and its incredible abilities."
Yes, almost, not really, but almost. Watching my body quickly go through all of my clothes is frustrating and sad. And the pregnant body is super cool, it would be just as cool if it was happening to my husband instead of me.

They also have a section called 'tangible' benefits:
Thicker Hair: the hormones make your hair thicker.
Yeah, it totally rocks to be laying in bed, completely naked with the A/C on and still sweat your ass off.
Stronger Nails: yet again, hormones.
It was neat for a few seconds to have long, strong nails, then I accidentally scratched my face and snagged some of the only clothes that fit me anymore.
Glowing Skin: increased blood flow gives you a rosy complexion.
I wouldn't describe the color as rosy, but more of a yellow brown color. It goes well with the greasy skin, erm, I mean glowing skin.
Increased Sexual Desire: more blood flow to your genitals can lead to heightened sex drive and greater pleasure.
Okay, this is true. Yes, ok! Yes, yes, YES!

TOTALLY Productive(thats a lie)

Not sure this if this would be an effctive sign, I would have to try it.

This may be my valentine card this year.

I like how shes honest.

I want to be friends with her.

I won't be going out today.

Hello Creepy Man.

This is the future Mike.

Zuper Secret!

I just looked at my handy dandy "What to Expect when you're Expecting" book, and it said I was in my fourth month, which is news to me, for some reason. I think its denial that makes me think I am DEFINITELY not four months along, because that would mean the baby would be coming in 5ish months.

If we are assuming this best seller book is telling the truth, then I am pretty sure that I should have gained more than 3 lbs this far. Cuz all that stuff growing inside me weighs stuff too right? I don't know, but we are seeing the midwife tomorrow so all my questions will be answered.

You want to here a super top super zuper secret? 'Kay but you can't tell anyone!
Actually I don't care if you tell anyone, I've told people so I guess I should take away one of those super's.

Anyhoo, I haven't got excited yet. I am happy and really really scared for when I actually push a living life form into this world and it will be another being that roams that world and plays a part in it, but other than that? No.
I'm not unhappy in anyway, but people are now asking me if I am excited about becoming parents, and I say 'yes', but what I am really thinking is 'Parents? Mike and I are just pushing another friend for us to play with into this world.' The idea that I will be called a Mother is strange, because that title belongs to my Mom. I am Bryn, and the baby of course can call me Ma or Mom or Mama because those are A LOT easier for an infant to say then Bryn. But when I think of myself being called a Mother, well the definition doesn't seem to fit.

Mother: a title of respect, loving, caring, selfless, stays up really late to make sure everyones lunch is packed and then wakes up really early to make sure everyone is bright eyed and bushy tailed before leaving on time, drives the kids to their practices and gives them a pep talk along the way, dresses everyone in matching clothes for the family photo

Bryn: most commonly associated with flaky, loving, kind(ish), stays up late to make lunches that she forgot to make earlier and then wakes up not so early to sip coffee and wake everyone else up so we can all run in a panic to TRY to leave the house on time, drives kids to practices (prolly running late) and pretends like she goes blind while driving to scare the kids and let them appreciate life a little more, dresses everyone in matching clothes for the family photo

Yeah, that last one matches because I am going to do that. I just love the family photos you see of all the family dressed in stripped shirts, making them all look like bugs. I am totally doing BUNNY EARS! I'm so excited.
But do you see what I mean? The definitions don't really match up right. I do wonder if, when the baby comes and I have little heart attacks every time it falls down and I have to keep Neosporin in my back pocket, I will magically change into a Mother. I don't wonder that to much because I know that I will still pretend to go blind in the car, thats just too funny.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

I throw up my emotions....its sad...sorry

I just read this amazing post from one of the bloggers I follow about how she lost her father when she was really young, and then asked the readers how they coped with loss. I realized that how I cope with loss is I just forget. I block out the funeral, and the memories that hurt, that way I can talk about the person with a smile on my face. Even now I think about deleteing what I have wrote so far and forgetting about writing about this post, but I won't, I don't think that is how I should handle it anymore.

For all the tears I didn't shed at the funeral, I will let them fall now, that way I don't carry them around and almost sob like a baby when I read something on facebook about him, or see a photo of him.

My Papaw died 8 months ago, on the day after my birthday. Honestly it couldn't been on the birthday, I don't remember, I just remember Mom waiting a few days to tell me so it wouldn't mess up my birthday, which is nice, but sitting here now all I can remember is sitting on the couch after Mom called and told me, and telling Mike. I didn't cry, it didn't even sink in.
"Papaw died"
And Mike just stared at me and then held me close, but tears still didn't come. I told him that we all expected it because he was so sick, and it was actually a blessing because he didn't hurt anymore. It was different, I said, that's why I'm not crying.
Then I snuck away and laid in our bed for a while, that's when the tears came, really slow. Mike found me and all I could do was apologize, I thought it was silly of me to cry when I knew it was coming. Mike is so much smarter than me, he held me again and told me not to say I was sorry, that it was still going to hurt no matter what. He's a good man.

I look back at that now and see how false that is to say its different because you know death is coming, death is still sad, still painful even if you had years to prepare, because you can't prepare to not have that person in your life, thats not possible.

I didn't go to school, because I knew no matter how strong Mom was she was going to need me, I told myself to be strong for others, to do what made the others hurt, so to save them a little. I went to Mamaw's house and got people coffee, I pulled old photos of Papaw out of picture frames to give to the funeral home, I gathered the clothes Papaw was going to be buried in, I held Mamaw and said nothing, because what in the world could you say. I worked beside Jade, my strong cousin, who did everything I did, and had tears in her eyes almost the entire time, she was amazing. My Mom, Jade, her brother Cole, and I ran through Walmart and Kohls looking for a tan v-neck sweater because Mamaw was in tears that we couldn't find it. I made jokes about being the only people in the world that could look through two huge stores in less than 15mins to try to bring some smiles to the day.

I can't remember if the wake was seperated into two days, or if it was just one. I do know that I went to every one of them though. I remember I kept chanting to myself, Don't Cry, Don't Cry, Don't Cry. And if anyone sees you cry, stop, they don't need to feel bad for you, there are others that need their hugs more than you.
I remember feeling selfish, and only whispering it to Mom and Mike, about how all I wanted for the last few months was that Papaw made it to my wedding, that he got to see me be married, and that he wouldn't be there now, there would be one less chair to gather. I didn't say it to anyone else during the wakes, because I thought it was so selfish to think about that.
I cried a few times during the wakes, but I don't think anyone noticed. I cried at night and still apologized to Mike.

During the wake that was held at the church before the burial, I walked around like a damn zombie. I literally didn't cry while the family greeted everyone, while I excepted hugs, and tearful "I'm sorry for you loss"s. One older couple, after greeting me, talked about me in whispers, thinking I couldn't hear them. The husband asked "what was wrong with me", he actually sounded concerned that my face wasn't covered in tears. The wife whispered back, "Shes in shock, complete shock." They shook their heads for me and walked away.
I thought, shock explains how I feel very well. I also felt ashamed that I couldn't take peoples attention off me even if I wasn't crying, my sorrow was a mask glued to my face.

I lost myself completely, when we sat and heard the preacher say wonderful things about Papaw, and my Mom broke down. I couldn't stop the tears, and I just held Mom while she tried to control herself. Then I saw something that broke me, just broke me. The biggest flower arragement, the one closest to Papaw casket, was made of red roses, yellow daisies, and purple statis. They were my wedding flowers. The exact same ones that I had ordered only a few weeks ago. Papaw knew, he knew he was missing it, knew it was important to me, and that was his way of being there. When I started sobbing, I somehow managed to tell my Mom what was wrong, and we both sobbed big baby sobs, the ones that take your breath away, and make you hiccup, and you try to muffle because you know you are being to loud.

After that cry though, I didn't cry anymore. We lit candles for the ones we missed at our wedding ceremony, and I know Papaw thinks its a great joke, cuz he was always smarter than us, and the flowers that made up my bouquet were red roses, yellow daisies, and purple statis.
I didn't read my families Facebook status' that said anything about Papaw, I avioded pictures of him.

I didn't think about that he died 4 months before my wedding, and 5 months before we found out I was pregnant. He would have loved that. I didn't think about that Mike really liked my Papaw, and Papaw actually liked him and wanted to get to know him, and never got to. Cuz a stupid family fight. I didn't think about how I didn't see as much of him as I should have towards the end for the same reason.
I didn't mourn him.

And that was wrong, I thinking about it now, I throwing up my emotions on this post, so I'm not scared of them anymore.

I'm going to remember Papaw. Remember: that he could hold his breath under water longer than me no matter how many times I tried, the stories he told of France and riding trains to get to other countries, that he taught himself German with a instruction manual and a German dictionary, that he used to type up my school reports for me and telling him he didn't have to erase a whole sentence to get to that one mispelled word, him falling asleep on our recliners with a cookie in his hand, driving the church bus and telling us that if stuck our heads out the window a truck would decapitate us and that it was totally true, telling me I had piano fingers and teaching me songs, listening to his beautiful music while I sat somewhere else in the house, him finding my cat after a day of losing her(he woke up to her sleeping on his chest), his birthday when he met Mike and insisted that he get in that family photo, him sitting in front of Mamaw hugging her and giving her kisses, the long math problems that he made up to test himself, how he would laugh if got the jeopardy question wrong, the day the riding mower caught on fire and he tried to put it out with a watering can. Ha, Mom and I ran across the field to stop him from getting close to that damn thing. Haha, two firetrucks and one emergency pickup truck showed up to put out the little riding mower.

I going to remember that stuff,
and I will never forget the flowers we shared.

Monday, August 8, 2011

The Disgusting Truth

I capitalized it cuz its super important in my life right now.

I haven't been able to post in a while because Mike and I have been house sitting, and we have yet to figure out the wireless internet there. Anywhoo...

I am now into my second trimester, I am about 14 weeks, and the vomiting has stopped for a while, but I still involuntary gag every once in a while, which is good because I would miss it if it went away completely.
Since I don't remember if I updated my bra search or not, and I am going to be lazy and not back check past posts, I'll fill you in. I got a bra, after trying on about 15 different ones trying to figure out if they fit or not, I found that my size is 38C. I can tell you this knowing that this will not be considered unwanted knowledge compared with what I will tell you later in this post. Eat this tidbit of sugary goodness, the sour ball is coming.
Well the bra I got is visible under my white shirts, which is inconvenient, but not really relevant anymore since I can no longer fit in them. I brought my bra home and modeled it for Mike, not in a 'sexual way', but in a 'bragging that I found a bra that fit way'.
He said, "Oh, good."
Which is what I have trained him to do when I show him clothing, so I was happy. I then took off the thing and put on a pajama shirt, throwing the bra on the bed. THEN he really looked at.
He said, "Whoa! That bra will NOT fit you!"
I said, "Mike you just saw it on me, it fits."
He said, "No, look at it! Its huge!"
I then held up the cup of the bra and held it up to my boob, which it of course fit perfectly. Mike was astonished. I can see where he was coming from though because after looking at the cups of my bra, they look like cereal bowls. Which I find hilarious, and sad that they fit now, but my boobs are still growing.

Sour Ball: I was warming you up before I gave this information, but this is what the title of this post is about. The truth about vomiting during preggy time, is that most of the preggo women stop during the second trimester, coming down with other symptoms including weight gain, constipation, swollen feet, and other things. I have stopped vomiting, like I mentioned earlier, but the two pounds that I proudly gained during my first trimester have vanished during my second.
This is because I am not like the lucky preggo women, yes I consider you lucky, that get constipation. I am unlucky because I have the exact opposite.
The lucky ones that get constipation, have pains in the belly, prolly worry about whether or not they are chewing thoroughly enough, and have long periods of sitting in the bathroom, followed by relief until the next bout comes along. Me, I have pains in my tummy, worry about everything I put in my mouth thinking that it is the cause, have short times in the bathroom where everything in my stomach comes out a damn liquid in less than 30 seconds, followed by a burning anus.

Its the truth, and its disgusting. I am still waiting for the time in the pregnancy where you feel like those smiling models in all the maturterny ads. But I'm pretty sure thats a lie.

A dirty, pretty, lovely LIE!

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Angry Fruit!

You don't want to see him when he's angry, he turns into a GIANT PEAR!
He's like a sweeter tasting Hulk...and more travel sized.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Ha I forgot to put a title, I am totally goign to forget our names

So Mike and I have been talking about whether the baby is a girl or boy, he thinks its going to be a girl, I think boy, but as long as a healthy baby comes out we really don't care otherwise. We also talk a lot about how baby will look, because Mike and I share NO physical traits.
I have red hair, hazel eyes, very pale skin with freckles, and I'm kinda short(okay I'm short).
Mike has dark brown hair, super blue eyes, skin that tans with an hour of sunlight, and is an average height.
Even our toes are different!...but I'm getting off my point here..

Last night I had a dream about our baby, I ususally am not the one who dreams about baby, that's Mike's area, but last night I totally had one!
It was a girl, and it had exetremely long hair for a newborn, it was down to her shoulders! And I said, "Mike, see thats what all that indigestion was for!" It was this pretty brown color, not as dark as Mike's, but not even close to dirty blond. And it looked like it had been blown dry, which I questioned, but didn't say anything because it looked so good. She had pale skin, and lots of freckles, the thing about that though, was that it looked like one of the freckles took up most of her face, from under her eye, down her cheek and almost to her nose.
When I realized that she had got this gene of crazy freckles from me, I almost told Mike I was sorry, when our baby girl smiled at us, and she was just absolutely beautiful.

Thats about the end of my dream, the rest really isn't that interesting, we forgot the name we were going to name her, which made us look STUPID.
But other than that I can't wait for mike to call me on his break so I can tell him I am a psychic, maybe, and that we need to write those names on our hands BEFORE we leave for the hospital.

Monday, August 1, 2011

No one talks about the fat time

When and before you get preggo, people talk about the little baby and the baby bump, and the little clothes and furiture, and if they talk about the bad stuff then they mention the tender breasts and the painful contractions and the staying up at night with baby. No one ever mentioned the fat period of the pregnancy.

The time when you are actually getting a baby bump, but its not really there yet so you just look fat.
It's stupid, I don't like it.