Tag Archives: humor

The Breaking Point

I think I have finally answered the age-old question:  How long can the husband of an expectant wife keep his sanity?  The answer would be seven and a half months.

Chris is revolting against my pregnancy.  Its not a problem with me or with the Bean, I think he has just finally had his limit of fetching, caring, and empathizing.  I’ve noticed that there have been less foot rubs in the past couple weeks.  And where he used to tuck me in bed every night, helping me strategically place each of my 1,000 pillows, he now just shoves the pillows here and there, tosses a kiss in my direction, and heads downstairs to the television.

I don’t blame him for this.  Not at all.  In case you hadn’t guessed, I am not exactly the strong and silent type.  I’m more the hurl myself on the floor, yelling “WHY DOES GOD HATE ME” type.  Chris has put up with his fair amount of complaining and moaning and crying, so I’m not surprised that he has hit his breaking point.  I’m just surprised at what it was the pushed him over the edge.

This morning I woke up earlier than him, like always.  I took the dogs downstairs, like always.  I fed them and had a bowl of cereal myself, like always.  And then I settled in with a good book, like always.

Enter Chris.

About an hour later Chris wakes up and comes downstairs, seemlingly happy.  Until he goes into the kitchen.  And we are out of bread.  And I thought the world was going to end.

“Where’s the bread?!?!?!”  he frantically shouted.

“I think we’re out,” I replied, distracted by my book.


Hearing the hysteria in his voice, I suggested that he throw on some shoes and run up to the gas station to get a loaf of bread to make his beloved peanut butter toast.  To which he snapped back, “You go get it!”  (Note:  He said this laughingly, but he was 100% serious.)

Now, I love Chris, but I’m not about to drag my pregnant, pajama’d belly up to the gas station for him when he is perfectly capable of going himself.  If he were impaired – say unconscious or trapped under a large bookshelf – I may had offered my assistance.  But this was not the case.

“I would do it for you!” he insisted.  “Go get me bread!”

“No!” I yelled.

“Why not?!?!” he demanded.

And then I uttered the line that pushed him over the edge.  “Because I’m pregnant!”

“You’re not THAT pregnant!” he responded.  “Go get me bread!”

At this point, I looked down at the book I was holding.  It is a book on the No-Cry Method of parenting, which teaches you different ways to soothe a crying baby.  Chris was sitting next to me on the couch – whining uncontrollably for no apparent reason and didn’t seem to be able to calm himself.  All symptoms of colic.

So, I calmly and confidently lean over and take him in my arms, firmly yet gently, as the book instructs.  And I begin to rock him back and forth in a repetitious manner which simulates the lulls of the womb.  And lastly, I start making “swishing” noises.

And wonder of all wonders, he stops moaning!  Just like the baby book said he would!

So, we sit there for a minute rocking back and forth and then from somewhere within my arms, I hear him whimper quietly, “Please go get me bread.”

I knew parenting books were a crock of crap.



Filed under Husbands, Marriage, pregnancy

…And Then He Had to Die


Chris:  Maybe you should think about limiting your Girl Scout cookie in take.

Me:  Maybe we should get a divorce.


Filed under Husbands, Marriage, pregnancy

A Pause During Pregnancy


1.  Diet Coke – I’m sure that I could have some in moderation, but I read somewhere a long time ago that they didn’t know how the sweetener in diet drinks effected babies and so I have steered clear.  But, oh how I miss them.  I think they miss me, too.

2.  My feet – I know they are still down there, but its been a while since I’ve seen them.  I hope they are doing okay.

3.  Spicy tuna rolls – I have been eating sushi while I’m pregnant, but only the vegetarian kind or the shrimp tempora, since the shrimp is cooked.  But my absolute favorite are spicy tuna rolls.  I miss them terribly.  I usually sneak one bite when we are having sushi (sure, I’m deathly afraid of drinking Diet Coke, but I’ll down raw fish in a millisecond.  I know, it makes no sense…), but I long for a big roll all to myself.

4.  My big chunky jewelry – I love big jewelry.  Necklaces, earrings.  All of it.  But when you are huge, the last thing you want to do is add MORE big, chunky things to your appearance.

5.  Shoelaces – I can’t get down to them, so I’ve been wearing slip on shoes instead.  But I miss my tennis shoes.  And their laces.

6.  Sleeping on my stomach – Ahhh…..  Let me just relish that thought for a minute….  So good….

7.  Pants with buttons – My maternity pants keep falling down because of that stupid elastic waistband.  I can’t wait to put on a pair of my real jeans with real buttons and real zippers.  Sometimes I catch myself staring at women’s crotches in total jealousy of their buttons.  I’m really making an effort to stop doing that.

8.  Clothes sizes – Normal clothes are measured in numbers (4, 6, 10, 12…).  Maternity clothes are measured in statements (medium, large, X-large, you-are-freaking-huge-large).  I’m ready for the non-judgmental numbers again.


yhst-29523360387793_2043_7236494001.  Tummy Butter – As big as I am, I do not have ONE stretch mark yet.  Not one.  And I owe it all to Palmer’s Tummy Butter.  I hate the way it smells (like sour vanilla, if you ask me), but it does wonders on the belly.

2.  A heating pad – You aren’t really supposed to get your body temperature too high when you’re preggo, but nothing soothes my sore back like a heating pad.  I keep it on low and I don’t use it for very long.  But when you stretch out in bed at the end of the day (that’s when my back hurts the most), nothing feels better than a little bit of heat to soothe those muscles.

lying-prenancy-wedge-green 3.  My Boppy Pregnancy Wedge Pillow – This pillow wedges under your belly and helps keep it level while you are sleeping.  It is so helpful and keeps me from hurting my back even more.  Although, its kind of hard when you roll over in the middle of the night because you have to drag your wedge pillow with you.  I’ve knocked Chris with it so many times…

4.  Strawberries – I eat ’em every day, all day, in everything.  And if its not an actual strawberry I’m eating, its a strawberry flavored something.  I so wish I had craved chocolate or something decadent, but I’m all about the strawberries.

5.  Chris – Everyone should have a Chris when they are pregnant.  He’s a foot rubber, back rubber, heating pad adjuster, dinner cooker, trash taker outer, clean upper, dish washer, heavy things carrier, compliment giver, and stud muffin all rolled into one.


Filed under pregnancy

Ring Around My Fat Finger

In the past few weeks my hands have started to swell pretty badly and almost every day. Its gotten to the point now where if it happens and I am still wearing my wedding and engagement rings, they get stuck. Chris keeps getting on to me saying that I need to stop wearing the rings or else he’s going to have to cut them off of me one day. I compromised and am now only wearing my wedding band.

Sans engagement ring

Sans engagement ring

I love my wedding band.  It wasn’t actually the one I picked out when we got engaged.  The one I picked out was much cheaper.  Just a band.  But on the night before our wedding, Chris gave me a small box and inside was this beautiful platnum band with small diamonds.  It matched my engagement ring and it was gorgeous.

So, I love my wedding band.  No question about it.  But more than the band, I adore my engagement ring.  It isn’t big.  It isn’t something flashy.  It won’t stop traffic.  It is just a single solitare square cut diamond, small but beautiful.  I love that ring because I know that Chris saved money for it while he was a poor college student.  He kept the money hidden in a picture frame behind a picture of me.  I love that. And I love that ring because of the day that he gave it to me.

Have I told you about how we got engaged?  Its a pretty great story.  When we were juniors in college, Chris and I went on a trip to New York together at Christmastime.  I had begged the entire trip for us to go ice skating in Rockefellar Center, right in front of the big tree.  But Chris kept putting it off and putting it off.  One night after we went to see the Rockettes in Radio City, Chris asked if I wanted to walk over to Rockefellar Center and finally go ice skating.

Outside Radio City Music Hall the night of the engagement

Outside Radio City Music Hall the night of the engagement

So, we’re skating around in front of the big tree and the lights are twinkling and Christmas music is playing and there are a million people milling around, and all of a sudden Chris stops skating.  Right there in front of the big tree.  And he gets down on one knee.  And I cry.  And he asks if I’ll marry him.  And I say yes.  And we both cry.  And then I fall down (cause I’m on ice skates, remember…).

The proposal

The proposal

I said yes (...duh)

I said yes (...duh)

I immediately examine the ring

I immediately examine the ring

I loved my ring from that moment on.  We went back to our hotel room that night with a case of beer and a bag of pretzels, and we stayed up all night talking about weddings and marriage and, of course, my ring.

(This is a picture of me telling Chris that from now on, my ring will be front and center in pictures.)

Chris has been replaced by my ring

Chris has been replaced by my ring

The very next day, I bought my first wedding magazine and began plotting planning our wedding.  And, once again, my ring was front and center.

(Note the bling, bling)

(Note the bling, bling)

And that was the beginning of my love affair with my engagement ring.  I was hooked from then.  But its not the ring itself that hooked me.  I’m not bummed right now because I can’t wear a diamond ring on my finger.  It was more about what that ring meant at the time that Chris gave it to me.

When we got engaged, I was waiting to hear from law schools, he was floating around trying to decide what to do after graduation.  We didn’t know where we’d end up or even if we’d end up there together.  There were so many questions out there, so many obstacles, and it probably would have been easier for us to figure out our paths separately.  But when Chris gave me that ring, things just clicked into place for us.  We still had a million unanswered questions about how it would practically work out, but we knew that however things ended up, we’d be together.  And that’s why I love that ring.

And that’s why it is so hard for me to not wear it right now.  Because we are sort of back in that limbo phase.  Now, we are waiting for a baby, waiting on job opportunities, waiting to see how our lives will change yet again.  And being able to look down at that ring and just know that everything will click into place exactly how it is meant to be was very comforting to me.

I’ve been without my ring for about a week now.  And you know what?  I don’t need it.  I’m doing fine without it.  I guess its because I just know things are working out how they are supposed to – whether I’m wearing that ring or not.  And that’s a pretty good feeling.

But I can guarantee you that the minute that baby is out of my belly, I’m putting my pretty diamond back on my finger.  Every girl loves a little sparkle…


Filed under Changes, Husbands, Marriage, pregnancy

Smarter Than I Think I Am


Our friends, Matt and Mary, had their second baby three weeks ago so last night Chris and I ventured over to say hello and meet their newest addition.  She’s beautiful.  And she smells good.  And she slept the whole time.  All very good things for a new mom-to-be to see.  Matt and Mary told us all about the baby – how she was adjusting and how the family was doing adjusting to her.  Mary took me into the baby’s room and showed me some of the tricks of the trade that she was using to make life easier.

And you know what?  I KNEW EVERYTHING ALREADY!!!

She showed me how to take two towels and roll them up with a blanket draped over them to create little bumpers so the baby felt secure and didn’t roll over on accident – I ALREADY KNEW THAT!!

She showed me how to swaddle the baby and told me that the swaddling kept the baby from flailing around and waking herself up – I ALREADY KNEW THAT, TOO!!

She showed me how to hold the baby when she had gas (flip her legs up a little bit to bend her at the waist) and how to hold her when she was bored (facing outward so she could see) and how to hold her when you’re just carrying her around the house (pretty much however you want) – AND I ALREADY KNEW ALL OF THAT, TOO!!

She and Matt told Chris and I that sometimes babies will just cry for no reason.  They have a clean diaper, a full tummy, they’ve been burped, they’ve napped, and yet they’ll just sometimes cry it out for a while, and it doesn’t mean that you are doing anything wrong.  Its just how they react to things – AND I KNEW THAT, TOO!!

And then they asked us if we had any questions about the pregnancy, delivery, or the first few days of having the baby home, and I sat there and thought for a second…and I thought…and I thought…and I thought.  And I came up with nothing.  Nadda.  I had no questions.  Now, I’m sure that questions will arise when the baby is here and I’m not planning to always be this smart, but last night when I was pushed for a question and couldn’t come up with one, I felt really proud of myself.  And I felt ready.  And in control.  And – more important than any of that – I wasn’t scared.

I’m not pointing out how baby-smart I am to say that I know it all.  I’m pointing it out and documenting this moment right now because I know that in a few months when the Beaner is here and its 4:00 AM and I’m crying because he’s crying and I can’t get him to stop wiggling so that I can swaddle him, dangit, I know that in that moment, I’m going to doubt that I know anything about being a parent.  And now, I can look back at this post and say to myself, “See?  At one point, you DID know it all and you’ll know it all again soon, so just hang in there.”

Self-proclamation is big with me.  My ego needs a boost every now and then.  Doesn’t yours?


Filed under pregnancy

Cuddling with a Pregnant Lady

Last night Chris and I were laying on the couch watching March Madness.  (For the record, I am number 1 in our pool right now, thankyouverymuch…  Chris is number 8, but whose counting?)  Its getting harder and harder to cuddle up together.  Actually, its been darn near impossible in the last few weeks.  My belly takes up most of the room on the couch, leaving Chris to either curl up in a ball at the far end or fend for himself on the tiny loveseat.  Not exactly the cuddling experience people crave.

So, last night Chris was sitting on the far end of the couch and I started nagging in him to come sit with me.  I needed a good cuddle, and he was just the husband to do it.  It was tricky.  Very tricky.  He had to navigate through over-stuffed pillows, two dogs, my ice pack on my ankles, my heating pad for my back.  It wasn’t easy for him.  The closest he could squeeze was about my hip, which was not great, but it would do.

He lays down and we’re sort of nestled together, watching basketball.  All of a sudden, he grabs one of the throw pillows and wedges it between my…um…rear and him.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Well…you’ve been a little…well…you never know when you might…so I thought I’d just put a little barrier up in case you…you know…fart.”

“You’re protecting yourself from my gas?”  I asked, horrified.  If it wouldn’t have taken so much effort, I would have gotten up and stalked away.  But I’m seven and a half months pregnant and it takes more than a little blushing to get me to move these days.

“Well, you just never know.  And I’m laying right in your line of fire…” he stammered.

It was quiet while I considered how much he had just insulted me.

“Eh, alright,” I said, turning back to the television.  “You’re probably right anyway.”

My marriage is nothing if its not honest.


Filed under Husbands, pregnancy

Go Big or Go Home

Today kicks off March Madness, and if you are at all vested in college sports or if you know any male you know all too well the time commitment and dedication it takes to be a March Madness fan.  Personally, I’m a big college sports fan.  I went to Florida State University where the culture of sports and beer are cultivated like fine wines and cheese.  Being a fan is an artform in Tallahassee, Florida.  While I mostly follow college football, I do dust off my basketball cheerleading uniform for one month a year and I cheer on teams that I know nothing about in the name of March Madness.

For years, I have stood on the sidelines as Chris participated in pools and brackets.  I’d occasionally throw a good suggestion in the mix for him, but for the most part I just showed up and ate chicken wings.  But not this year.  No, sir.

Because THIS year, I’m IN THE POOL.  That’s right.  Chris finally agreed to let me enter the basketball pool that he and his friends have done for the past few years.  I am so excited I can hardly contain myself.  I spent HOURS pouring over statistics that mean absolutely nothing to me in an effort to help me make at least a half-way educated guess.  I don’t need to win the thing.  I just don’t want to embarrass myself.  Visions of playing golf with my Dad when I was little and being told to just pick up my ball because I had taken too much time dance in my head.  I don’t want to choke under the pressure.  I just want to be able to at least hang in there for a few rounds.

I called my sister when I found out I was going to play.

“Ginny,” I whispered.  “When you pick teams that are going to win in a basketball tournament, what is that called?”

“I think its called your racket,” she said.

“Oh, yeah.  I think that’s right,” I responded.  (Its not right, actually.  Its called a BRACKET.)

“And Ginny?”  I asked.  “Whats it called when you enter a group of people who all pick their rackets?”

“I think that’s called a pool,” she said.

“Oh, yeah.  I think that’s right,” I responded.  (That actually is right.)

So with the help of my trusty sister, I was able to at least FAKE the sports lingo I would need to be a real contender.  Of course, Ginny went to the University of Florida, a university that makes Florida State  look like a nursery school when it comes to team spirit.  Chances are she was more immersed in the “culture” of beer than the “culture” of sports while she was there, so God knows what she actually knows about sporting rules.  She looks great in a jersery and visor though, so I trust her judgment.

I submitted my BRACKET yesterday and the tournament kicks off today.  Cross your fingers and cheer for Pittsburgh!  They are my number one pick over U Conn (don’t I sound so sporty?).  And if you have any basketball watching/picking/cheering tips for me to keep me from completely embarrassing myself, feel free to share.  I’m gonna need all the help I can get!


Filed under Marriage