Tag Archives: headaches

Sometimes pregnancy sucks

Feeling like a bit of a slacker in the writing department over here and I am  completely blaming pregnancy on it. Pregnancy is a bitch.

This was an extremely planned baby. I had a time frame that I was looking for, conception-wise, in order to maximize my extremely crappy maternity leave and Edward’s summer vacation. Ideally, baby #2 would not enter daycare until they were 6 months old. Good plan, eh?

I factored in roughly how long it took me to get pregnant with Vince and we proceeded accordingly. Now the funny thing about hoping to be pregnant, is that once you are you start to wonder things  like ‘Wait. What was I thinking again?’ But that could be the hormones talking…

It’s something you want, want, want, want, want. And then suddenly, when you get it, and you start feeling like total toilet bowl… Well, it’s not that you regret it, more like you think ‘Oh good lord, what did I get myself into!’.

This second pregnancy is a total bitch. One that comes to work with a bad attitude and perfume that gives you a headache.

I’ve had a lot of headaches. And a lot of nausea. A LOT. More than I thought possible. I’ve been popping the (pregnancy sanctioned) pain-pills like they are going out of style. Which they better not be, since I’m getting low and need more soon.

Essentially that is what’s been going on down here in Orlando. Me, wallowing in misery, thinking things like “God, it’s probably a girl. And she’s sucking me dry.”

Oh, and Vince has been playing soccer. The last few practices were disastrous and the first game was AWFUL. Somehow though, things came around this past Saturday. He was bribed within an inch of his life by everyone (Mummy, Daddy, Coach) and it seemed to have no effect.

But something awesome happened out on the field. He got it. He just got it. And suddenly he was running. And kicking. And facing the wrong direction and running. But he wasn’t holding on to his coaches hand, or being carried around the field on someone’s hip. Or crying. Or screaming for me. Or climbing trees to get away from the field. Or many other things like that. That were all awful.

He was playing soccer and man was he having fun! And afterwards, during snacktime, he got a little trophy for being ‘The most improved player’. He was so proud. He kept asking me the rest of the day “Mummy, I kicked the ball. Are you so proud of me?”

Not only that, but he actually asked to go and have his hair cut. How ridiculous is that!

So here we are, post-soccer win and 16 1/2 weeks pregnant. Slightly less headachey, feeling a little round. And apparently today, a little less tolerant of bullshit than I thought. But don’t worry! I won’t tell you! My lack of filter is never a good thing, but even worse when I am pregnant, hormonal and annoyed.

I’ll keep you posted… 😉

xoxo a.m.

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3 more sleeps

To be honest, I am not sure if I am really prepared. And also is it really Christmas on Saturday? I’m feeling a little unnerved by that.

Usually I am more organized. I always send cards out on time, I make a lot of lists (which annoy my husband), I get a little whirlwindish. This year I am the Queen of Lackadaisical-land. I am halfheartedly mailing Christmas cards. I am feeling slightly detached from all of this.

And at the same time? Super involved in it for Vince’s sake. Multiple attempts to see Santa, lots of shopping, many hiding places around the house, tons of lights, tree up since pre-Thanksgiving, too many singing animals and one ‘Santa Paws’ aka ‘Kwismas Dog moobi’.

It’s almost like I am two separate people.

Tomorrow is my last day of work this week. It’s been a LONG week so far. Working in the type of industry that I do, this time of year is a time of desperately needy people who NEED to have emergent surgery for issues that have been plaguing them for months. Mostly because they have met their insurance deductible. Forgetting, of course, that hundreds of other people have had the same brilliant idea way earlier than them. It’s just weeks of constant arguing and really crappy attitudes.

Ugh. Ok, enough of a mope Jame!

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough though.

Anyways. Mope finished. I do deserve a high-five for mailing my Canada packages out in time (or so Edward says anyways).

I have half of my presents wrapped and all my shopping done. I am 3/4 finished mailing holiday cards. I have successfully visited Santa with my son. I am going running tomorrow (and by writing that down, that means it’s true).

This evening, V turned to me and said “Mummy? Tell Santa am I good boy.” Wow. An almost grammatically correct sentence. “Well honey, if you can be a good boy, I’ll tell him”.

“Mummy. Am I good boy” (This is how V says ‘I am’). But sentences like these are often followed by complete and total out of control bad boy behavior. And, in this particular case, by Vince’s new favorite sentence:

“Mummy? Am I poopin’!!!!”

“You are?”

“Yes!! Need change!”

Damn that makes me laugh!

Oh V-monster, how I love thee. You cannot help but lift my spirits with every little thing you utter…

3 more sleeps, my sweets. Santas coming!

xoxo a.m.

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