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Filed under: Body Issues,Just Shoot Me,Makes Me Grumpy,Pregnancy,Travel — Amy @ 9:40 pm

Pregnancy is not agreeing with me this time around.  I haven’t been sick (at least not since Christmas).  I’ve been more tired, but nothing unbearable.

I’m just BIG.  And I hate it.

I almost wore a pink shirt for Easter.  And then I looked in the mirror and saw a giant Easter Egg where my reflection should have been.

I did not wear a pink shirt for Easter.

I took a “six months pregnant” picture today.  I’d post it to prove my point but I think there’s some reason I don’t post pictures of myself on this site… though I can’t quite remember what that reason is right now.  Anyway, I look at least 8 months along.  It’s discouraging.  I don’t think I’ll be taking a “nine months pregnant” picture this time around.

In a short time I will be going to HAWAII for my MIL’s birthday celebration.  And I cannot believe I am doing this voluntarily.   When I was pregnant with Kaelin, my best friend got married.  Why do people always plan important events when I’m 7 months pregnant?

Oh trip, how I dread thee… let me count the ways:

  • 8 hour plane ride there… with swollen uncomfortable pregnancy legs
  • 8 hour plane ride there… with energetic 2-year old. Who maxes out at about 3 hours.  And refuses to sleep on planes.  And who can only survive those 3 hours when allowed to watch Dora on laptop.  And whose grumpy factor increases proportionate to how much TV she watches.
  • Maternity swimsuit
  • Maternity swimsuit
  • Maternity swimsuit
  • 8 hour plane ride back… more swollen uncomfortable pregnancy legs
  • 8 hour plane ride back… same 2-year old

Somebody just shoot me now.

You’re SICK

Tonight I had some bad sushi. It tasted good. But it didn’t agree with my insides and for a while I wasn’t sure whether it was the sushi, or my insides, that were about to exit my body in a rather unfriendly fashion.

Consequently, I spent a good portion of the evening alternating between the couch and the toilet.

J is gone on a business trip tonight so it was just me and Kaelin for the evening. It is surprisingly difficult to spend an evening sick on the pot with a curious and concerned toddler investigating, questioning, and playing doctor.

“Are you ok Mama?”

(between winces, and with my head in my hands) “Not really. Mama’s a little sick right now.”

“You’re SICK. Are you ok Mama?”

“I will be ok soon. Mama just needs to go potty. Can you go watch TV for a few minutes?”

“Do you have an owie? Does your eyes hurt? Do you have an owie on your arm?”

“Mama’s tummy hurts.”

“Mama has an owie on her tummy. Does it need a kiss?”

“No thank you. But thanks for offering.”

(Removing a strip of toilet paper to wrap around an old scratch on Mama’s arm) “Mama has an owie RIGHT THERE. Put this on it because it makes it feel all better for you.”

“Thank you sweetie.”

(Grabbing my arm at attempting to pull me off the toilet) “Puuuuuuuuuulllllll! Puuuuuuullllll! Go out there. Go into the living room, Mama.”

“I can’t right now, baby. Go ahead and I’ll come in a few minutes.”

“I need some toilet paper!

“No you don’t. Don’t take any more toilet paper. Leave it alone.”

“I love you Mama! Hold you?”

“I love you too, but I can’t hold you right now. I’m going potty.”

(Attempting embrace) “HUUUUUG!”

She then found a small flashlight and proceeded to spotlight and name Every. Single. Item. in the bathroom.

“Shine the light and then you can see it. This is a scarecrow! How about the scarecrow’s basket? How about the toilet paper? How about the door! How about the shoe! How about Mama’s knee? How about Mama’s other knee! How about Mama’s cheek! How about Mama’s arm! How about Mama’s tummy! How about Mama’s boob!”

“Kaelin, can you please go watch TV for a few minutes.”

“Are you ok, Mama? Mama has an owie.” (Runs down the hall) “Your SICK!”


Well, 18 months post-baby, I have finally reached a very exciting milestone:


According to my scale this morning, I have lost a total of 10 pounds and today I am wearing a pair of jeans I have not fit into since early pregnancy.

All those pairs of “big” jeans in my closet can officially KISS MY SMOKIN HOT ASS.

BOOYEAH, WHO’S YOUR DADDY [insert ridiculously uncoordinated Happy Dancy here].

Ok, they’re a little tighter than I like my jeans to be, but the point is that they zipped up all the way and I don’t have a fat roll spilling over the waistband.

* * * * * [Insert Change of Subject] *   *   *   *   *

Do any of you make phone calls using Skype? I enjoy it as a messenger service but don’t have the technology to use it for phone calls. I was just thinking that their rates are WAY more reasonable than our landline, which we rarely use anyway, so if the quality is good I was thinking about using their service for our home phone. Any comments/suggestions/warnings?

The Good News is I’ve Lost 6 Pounds

Despite my good intentions, I may have to change the look around here sooner than expected. I am, without a doubt, the world’s worst dieter. Reasons for this are twofold:

Reason #1:
Though I may profess otherwise, my actions tend to speak of a mentality along the lines of “If you screw up, go all the way.” It’s a good thing I lost my virginity to my husband or you might find me on a street corner somewhere today. Case in point: Today I fudged (how’s that for a bad diet pun) and ate TWO MEALS instead of my allowed “1 sensible meal (400-600 calories) per day” ration. Because frankly, I am SO TIRED of chocolate “shakes” and think they have no business being called “meal replacements.” And my second meal was PIZZA.

So, naturally, in my state of guilt afterward, I sent my husband to CVS for Peanut Butter M&M’s. See? I’m surprised I didn’t make a DQ Blizzard run as well. I can totally feel my lovehandles coming back though.

Reason #2:
I have an unfounded phobia of hunger. I don’t know where it came from, it’s not as though I’ve ever been deprived of food. And yet, at the end of my “1 sensible meal (400-600 calories) per day” I have this mini-panic attack where I start thinking That was it. That was all the food I get for the next TWENTY FOUR HOURS!

Cue Feeding Frenzy Freak-Out, where I think I have to eat all the food within a 5 mile radius because it will be TWENTY FOUR HOURS UNTIL MY NEXT DECENT MEAL, despite the fact that:

  1. This is not a starvation diet…I get “shakes” and meal replacements and (albeit not-so-appetizing) nutrients galore
  2. 24 hours doesn’t exactly count as a life-threatening fast

I don’t know where my hunger phobia came from, but I know I’ve always had it. I think it was the sole reason I avoided anorexia in high school. I was discussing it with J the other day and he couldn’t figure it out. See, he actually had times growing up where there was literally NO FOOD, where they would eat things like “ketchup soup” for dinner because there were no other options. And he doesn’t have this problem.

I, on the other hand, who have never been deprived of food, vividly recall ordering 12″ Subway sandwiches through middle and part of high school – not because I actually wanted to eat that much but out of fear that if I only ordered a 6″ I would reach the end of the meal and still be hungry. And then it would be too late.

Now I never think about ordering more than 6″ but I had to do a lot of mental training to get to that point.

“That’s why we get along so well,” says J. “You’d be satisfied with 6″ but when it’s a few inches bigger you’re really happy.”

Feeling: Bored

Filed under: Body Issues,Feeling,Such is Life — Amy @ 8:55 pm

Today I am bored. Bored with work, bored with blogs, bored with whatever else is going on.

And I’m having a fat day, which doesn’t really help. I’m back to counting calories (read: big pain the butt) because I’m no longer burning that extra 500 calories per day and I’m now half a pound away from the most I’ve ever weighed (well, you know, not including pregnancy, because that really doesn’t count).

For the past year I’ve been able to eat whatever I wanted without worrying about weight gain. Those days are gone, gone, gone. Now I look at a brownie and it immediately glues itself to my stomach.

Bummer. I hate diet sodas.

Tick Tock

Filed under: Body Issues,Pregnancy — Amy @ 8:11 pm

Sometimes I swear this kid is trying to come out via my belly button. She doesn’t seem to have any intention of actually coming out any time soon via the right direction. But she sure has become active during the day and has recently been experimenting with attempting the splits. OUCH.

The good news, I guess, is that the gymnastics seem to be during the day, as opposed to at night. But I’m getting a little battered and more than a little ready to be done.

Looking forward to the day when people can come up with something to say to me besides comments about how enormous my belly is. Like the greeter at church that just laughs when she sees me coming through the door.


Fortunately, my doctor has agreed to an induction on the 17th if baby hasn’t come by then. At least I know I won’t be going past that date. Still seems like a lifetime away from now though…

Beware of Elephant!

Filed under: Body Issues,People,ROFL — Amy @ 10:32 am

“What was that?”
“Did you see that guy across the parking lot?”
“He farted before he got in his car.”
“That was a FART, are you serious? Is it humanly possible to fart that loud?”
“Apparently so. I saw him do ‘the Squat’ before he sat down and closed the door.” (proceeds to mimick ‘the Squat’)
“That sounded like an elephant.”

Just so you know, if you set any kind of a world record for fart volume, even if you think nobody is around, someone is bound to hear it. And that someone will then proceed to tell the world about it on the internet.

And that someone’s husband will also mimick you doing “the Squat,” which will further provide entertainment in the form of mental replays.

Cleanest Baby in the World

Filed under: Body Issues,Pregnancy — Amy @ 12:23 pm

Why is it that when your belly protrudes more than normal, there’s this inate need to give it an extra good scrubbing in the shower?
…Or maybe it’s just me…

And that makes me special.

Filed under: Body Issues,Pregnancy,Such is Life — Amy @ 2:29 pm

I have hit a new revelation. I am the first woman in the history of the world to ever have gone through the first six months of pregnancy.

I draw this conclusion from the fact that apparently I’m the only person in the entire country ever to outgrow the waistline on a regular pair of pants, yet need maternity clothing that isn’t abso-freakin-lutely-huge-i-mongous.

Seriously. Normal clothing doesn’t fit anymore, but when I walk into a maternity store and try on the smallest size they have available, I could fit three camels and a polar bear in those pants with me. Kids, don’t try that at home.

As in, I stand up and the pants don’t stand with me. Not gonna happen. So I ask the girl at the counter what they do for women who are in the “in-between” stage and she shows me this thing called a Bella-something. It’s basically an ace bandage that you’re supposed to wrap around your gianormous pants to hold them on.

Chic. We’re talking some serious style.

“Or you can wear your normal pants unbuttoned and put this thing around the top to hold them up.”

You have got to be kidding me. You’re telling me that after millions and billions and trillions of pregnancies throughout the history of the world, NOBODY has come up with a real solution to the first six months of growing waistline?

I have just decided upon the first living-vicariously-parental-aspiration for my child.

AWOL Waistline

Filed under: Body Issues,Pregnancy — Amy @ 11:01 am

So, Gap has some really cute spring dresses. Somebody, please go buy them and enjoy wearing them for me. I tried the other day, but even though I’m not technically showing yet, my waistline has so thoroughly disappeared that it was a futile (and somewhat depressing) effort.

Idol, Acne & Chocolate

Filed under: Body Issues,Food,Pregnancy,Such is Life,Television — Amy @ 1:07 pm

Last night, J and I settled in for our Tuesday Night Tradition: Wings and American Idol. Lindsey Cardinale, it’s time to say goodbye. I think we will shortly be forced to add House to the Tuesday Tradition list, as it has kept us glued to our seats for the second week in a row. Stupid addictive TV shows.

Unfortunately, I have discovered as of late that one of the symptoms of pregnancy is a change in appetite. As in, things that were always good before just aren’t good anymore. And I think wings have fallen into that category. This is especially upsetting because I hate to spoil a good tradition. I gave it a valiant effort last night…but I think wings are officially out.

It’s becoming painfully obvious that pregnancy has all sorts of “symptoms” that quite frankly, I could do without. I got an update email the other day about “5 embarassing pregancy symptoms: gas & bloating, constipation, hemorrhoids, yeast infections, and diarrhea.”


Of course, the article didn’t mention acne, stretch marks, fat, cavities and tooth decay, and the myriad of other wonderful contributions of hormones and so forth.

Someone actually complimented me the other day on my skin. Apparently after I scrub, mask, exfoliate, tone, oil-free moisturize, slather on makeup, and style my hair so it covers as much of my face as possible, my skin looks decent to the casual observer. Who’d have thought?

It’s times like this when I question God about why 9 months was entirely neccessary. I think tape worms have the right idea.

But that’s probably a discussion for another philosophical blog and I’m not in the mood. Right now I just want some chocolate.

About Me

Hi. I'm Amy. I started this website in 2005 as a place to deposit my journal and photos. It has gone through a few incarnations and masquerades as a family site, but since I'm the only one who contributes to it, it's really all about ME, ME, ME.

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