A pregnant Christmas ramble…

I’m not really sure how it happened, but Christmas is in 8 days. Originally I had felt a bit panicked as the holiday season approached, what with being an enormous preggo and all. That combined with shopping  is just a pile of no-fun. But as it turns out, there isn’t anything to worry about.

After much conversation, Edward and I are (in a way) opting out of the majority of the hype shopping-wise. Honestly, there isn’t anything that either of us want. And really all I like is presents in my stocking, that’s my favorite.

And plus, what is honestly more fun that watching your child’s face on Christmas morning. Much more rewarding that watching your partners face as they open socks (or whatever awesome techno-giftie you got them this year).

So I low-keyed it, bought V a bunch of Star Wars books. And a few other things as well, it’s hard not to… And Edward is having a hard time resisting the lure of purchasing Star Wars action figures for Vince, especially since Vince is taking to it like a duck to water. Isn’t that funny? He learned about Star Wars 3 weeks ago and practically has memorized every characters name, declared favorites and is thrilled that Daddy and him have a ‘date’ to watch the movie in the next few days…

Total digression, I know, but sometimes a Star Wars digression is worth it. More so when ones child declared to Santa that he wanted a Jabba the Hutt present from Santa and sent Daddy scrambling to eBay to hunt one up since it is not possible to find anything like that 10 days before Christmas. Ha!!

Anyways, so I find myself in a pleasant situation of not needing to do any more shopping. Which is a relief since I don’t want to. I barely mailed cards out this year and feel like a huge holiday slacker. And I don’t care.

I couldn’t have appreciated it any more than today when I woke up WAY too early to the sound of someone crying “I HAVE TO DO A POO!” at some ungodly hour. Preceeded by a coma-like sleep which started last night at about 8:30 when I passed out on the couch trying to spend a nice evening with E watching a movie together.

So pretty much I’m a big, tired loser. But while I’m that, I’m also a stress-free loser because of our mini-opt out.

And guess what? I’m going to bed. Right now. Before I coma-out on the couch again…

xoxo a.m. (

Where I regret being smug and other things…

Click me. I'll make you read about pregnancy. Don't mind my repeated spelling errors....

First let me just say that this pregnancy is a total bitch.

A migraine, hormone-laden son of a total m-fing bitch. And typing that really feels like a glorious, orgasmic release…

I feel kind of embarrassed when I think back to being pregnant with Vince. God, I was so smug. I felt great, ate healthily and slept well. ALL THE TIME.

Probably because I wasn’t a parent yet. I just was a dog-parent, which while counting somewhat, doesn’t actually count in the realms of sanity.

So now that I feel crappy, tired, hormonal, angry/happy all the time plus I have a little person to keep an eye on? Gah. I’m just a mess. A big ol’ mess.

Ok, enough of that blather… I’m alive, and really I’m fine. Honestly.

Vince, on the other hand, is developing some interesting new actions. And by interesting I mean a combo of ‘annoying’, ‘odd’ and ‘oh please let it end soon’. It’s almost a one-two punch.

First there is a bi-monthly event of the nightmare. This is carefully timed to achieve optimal impact by aiming for the nights that Mummy and Daddy are extra tired/crappy feeling. And the result of the nightmare is that Vince ends up in our bed, neither of us are able to sleep with him. It is impossible. This last time was Friday night. He woke up at 11:50 pm crying and crawled in with us.

And proceeded to ask to play Angry Birds. Repeatedly. I ended up in his little bed with my body pillow where I didn’t sleep for 5 hours and woke up to the sound of Vince discussing Angry Birds with Daddy at 5:30 am.

And then there is his ‘sensitive ears’. A lovely new development over the last few weeks. Apparently pretty much everything is too loud. Unless he really really likes it, then it’s fine. A lot of things are too loud. Like the toilet flushing, Mummy talking, Chewie barking. But surprisingly Angry Birds at full volume is never too loud. In fact, it appears to consistently be too quiet.

I am quite sure that this kind of behavior is on par with ‘three’ and am trying to not be too surprised by it. Or really overreact at all, just correct the behavior and try not to make too big a deal of it. Lord knows this does not need to be encouraged.

In the realm of real life, I honestly cannot believe that Christmas is less than two weeks away. And that I am in my third trimester. And that the nursery is painted and awaiting a new little love that will arrive in less than 12 weeks.

Don’t worry, my brain is glossing over it all like its been doing when I try to bring up any details of what going into labour was like. It’s just slipping right over it all, moving right on to having a 6 month old.

Well done brain! Just the way I like it!

xoxo yours in sleeplessness a.m.