I’m Back

and bigger than ever. I was off for at least two weeks. Most of the time was spent at a writers conference in my hometown. It was great experience that still has not cured me of my cliche use. It was so liberating having an identity independent of my daughter, husband, parent or sibling. I was there as a writer and nothing else. What a level playing ground.

The major interruptions were by my immediate family who chose to descend into the area with their extended families at the least convenient time all summer.

Anyone who insists on coming during this time is, as you guessed, wrapped up in himself and therefore not entirely cooperative. I know I was depending on lots of people to help me out with the baby and what not, but it was my time and I do everything I can for their time.

I know, not very milfy.

I did manage to go into a bathing suit, reluctantly. I’m definitely starting to pop slightly. Told a few more people, bought some looser shirts, and am warming up to the idea. No other major symptoms besides clumsiness and dizziness.

I’ll think of more later. Maybe something with a porn or a vibrator or sexy shoes.

Fresh Meat

This past week I have been back on a college campus partaking in a writing workshop. It’s so refreshing to do something so independent. Nobody sees me as a mom. Perhaps they do, but not exclusively so. I am a writer first. And to some people a mother second, and to an even more select few, a pregnant mother/writer/dog owner.

The more serious and dedicated the writer, the more unkempt she appears. This applies not just to the students but to the accomplished teachers as well. It’s comforting that there is no pressure to dress up, yet when/if I do, I can stand out with little effort.

I’ve been showing off some flattering outfits for the evening performances, wearing my new wardrobe while it still fits.

The celebrities on campus, as far as I am concerned, is not that adorable college freshman who is working for the program, although he makes great eye candy, but rather the visiting writers whose works humbles me.

The Unsexy Stage

There’s a stage of pregnancy before one looks pregnant yet has still packed on the pounds. I feel like I am at that stage. I feel far from sexy.

The email updates tell me that at 13 weeks my baby is about 3 inches long. I’ve had hamburgers bigger than three inches and my waist has not ballooned to this size. I am still able to fit in my clothes and with a few loose shirts that are in style I’m able to hide the bulge. Hell, Sara Jessica Parker disguised her pregnancy for months playing the role of Carrie Bradshaw. I should be able to do half as well.

I don’t intend to come across as a complainer. I’m warming up to the idea of having another angel. I even got misty eyed at the ultrasound with the little bugger waving to me. I just know how big and uncomfortable I will get and frankly that does not turn me on.

I imagine my husband will stop being interested in sex which never feels good. I hear there is a whole subgenre of porn, movies made with pregnant chicks. Not sure who the audience is, but apparently enough people to make more than one film.

*Now he is interested and the only I can think of when we are doing it is, I hope the phone rings, I hope the baby cries. But, I still plow ahead. I may need it in the reserves.

Bad Dog

I love my dog. He’s a two year old rescue puggle with the cutest smushed in face, the softest fur and a cuddly personality. He’s gentle with my daughter, even though he sometimes knocks her down trying to get my attention.

I laugh when my daughter pulls the dog bone out of his mouth and then the dog gently takes it back. This goes on for about 15 minutes which in dog years is like 7 hours.

My daughter drops food from the high chair for him and he happily hoovers up any mess down to her regurgations. What a dog. My Pookers loves him.

But he is also highly disobedient, jumping up to eat the food off of her highchair, snatching food from her hand (even though she sometimes teases him), escaping at every opportunity, ignoring all commands, and eating anyone’s food at every opportunity.

With a new pookie on the way I do not need or want this level of aggravation.
Vainly, I am flattered when people are impressed that I can handle both a baby and an energetic pooch. The dog garners a decent amount of attention; he even stopped Hillary Swank in her tracks on a jog. She stopped so her dog could sniff some ass.

I know my husband loves the dog, and I do to, I just don’t think that I want him at this stage in my life. I feel badly, but the dog is a dog and will find a loving home. I just wish I knew someone nearby so we could visit or even share custody.

Embarrassing Vibrator Story

When I moved apartments, I packed my vibrator in a suitcase that the movers loaded into a van. On this particularly stressful moving day one of the movers tells me that my bag is buzzing.

I went to the truck and immediately identified what was causing the stir in the bag. It was too buried and I was too stressed to do anything other than let the batteries expire.

Dressing the Part

Fortunately loose baggy dresses and shirts are still in style, as they were last summer, so I can hide my slowly bulging belly from the public.

Yesterday was my 12 week check-up and I am out of the first trimester danger zone which is generally the time people start announcing their pregnancy. I think my parents and in-laws are more excited to spread the word than I am. I’m still regretting spreading my legs.

I did get emotional seeing that little blob wave to me on the ultrasound then do a backflip that would impress any Olympic gymnast.

Not much more to say. if any of my loyal readers, yes YOU, have any special requests for posts or random questions or whatever, please comment. Please. I’ll do my best.

Showing

My husband through a little surprise party for me on Saturday. I was getting a little suspicious by that morning, but some of the guests who arrived truly surprised me.

Looking at pictures of the party, I see a small pooch where my flat abs once resided. They may still be flat, but now they hide behind a small belly where my baby grows.

We are playing a little game with one of the members of the share house: trying not to tell him I’m pregnant until the end of the summer. He did notice that I was drinking Non alcoholic beer but I don’t think that gave it away. I turned around my pre-natal vitamins lest they give away the secret.

The party was fun but there was a part of me that was jealous watching everyone drink beer and later smoke I know in the scope of my life, this is a short temporary hiatus from indulgences, but I still miss them.

My husband agreed to abstain for nine days, after he told me that nine months was not that long. He has yet to start his nine days but claims he will. Whatever.

I’m kind of bummed that those cute fitted t-shirts I recently bought expose my growing stomach.

I know I’m blessed and lucky on so many fronts, but I’m not excited about being pregnant (despite the ice cream benefit). I’m starting to get excited about having another baby though. I just have to figure out how to squeeze the new one into the apartment.

The Time my Husband Gave my Mom a Porn

My mom was in the hospital recovering from surgery and I was visiting her as much as possible. One day I brought our portable dvd player and a bunch of movies for her to entertain herself.

My husband neglected to mention that he uses the portable dvd player at night when he cannot sleep and wants to watch something stimulating without waking me up. *

* I never found out if he watched in bed next to be or went downstairs but did not want to raise the volume (we were living in a loft style apartment at the time). I have to guess the former. Who really needs sound on a porn?

After I left the hospital my mom turns on the dvd player and one of my husband’s favorite porns loaded.

She ended up watching Boogie Nights afterwards so either the porn was not that much of a shock or put her in the mood to watch something a little scintillating.

Nostalgia for the old me

The big 3-0 was as uneventful as any birthday. I’m still coping with the concept that I am not a young hot commodity any more. So many chapters in my life are closed.

I am proud/satisfied/satiated that I had my wild adventurous streak. I’ve hooked up on airplanes, had a once year fling (sort of) with a guy in Amsterdam, traveled by myself, traveled with friends, took risks, went skydiving, bended rules, pushed boundaries, tested myself, left my comfort zone, returned to my comfort zone, expanded my horizons. I loved too much, was dumped too often, danced too silly, lived too recklessly, laughed too loudly, spoke too frequently. But I was me, and I did what felt right and shaped me into who I am.

Even though I am married, a mom, and pregnant with #2, it does not mean my life is over. I just struggle to accept that certain risks and opportunities are over. But for the most part, I did them.

Feeling a little reflective today, in case that was not evident.

I’m happy where my life is today. I love my family. I just wish career wise I was more accomplished, but I know I only have myself to blame for that.

I know I’m lucky and fortunate and blessed and I do not take anything for granted.

Random Anecdote

One night I got into a taxi and the driver heard me call my grandmother to say hello. He commented how nice that was and we each made a comment about thanking Gd for our blessings. He then turned up the volume on some gospel sermon that he was listening to on the radio. I asked him to turn it down. He thought I would enjoy it, and made sure I agreed with him that I loved Jesus. I did not have the heart to tell him I was Jewish.

Reconnecting

I’m tempted to join the Facebook phenomenon, finally. I’ve been on myspace for a few years and have not really had anyone out of the blue contact me. My old roommate found me on friendster years ago then never wrote back to an email I sent after approving her friend request. What was the point of her contacting me after all this time?

I had sent an email to a friend on myspace after not talking for some time. He never wrote back and I felt so dejected. How hard is to send a simple note?

One of the reasons I am reluctant to join is I do not want to be rejected. I know people let others seek them out. I will open myself to that possibility.