My Morning - A Photo Essay Courtesy of Allie Brosh

**Disclaimer:  All of the drawings seen below are drawn by and Copyright Allie Brosh.  Please view her hillarious blog at http://www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com.**

I was woken up at 4:45 a.m. with painful, hurty contractions.  BTW, if you've never had a contraction before, imagine that you ate 32 fake meat tacos from Taco Bell and are racing for the toilet with the worst stomach cramps ever.  That was my wake up this morning, the stomach cramping part--not the racing for the toilet part.

Anyway.  Immediately after I realized that I wasn't going to die, I simultaneously began watching the clock and freaking out about all of the things that I still had to do.  This exact phrase kept running through my brain:


Which is why I am using the following drawings to illustrate my day.

Some of my thoughts were crazy (ie-clean the tile in the shower with a toothbrush.  Ya know, in case Emmett decides he wants to hop in there after he gets home from the hospital) and the others were things like finish the laundry and  put gas in my car. 

The painful, hurty contractions eventually stopped, but the anxiety remained. When I was trying to explain my feelings to Ryan he stared at me like I was crazy.   I felt like Brick from "The Middle", who puts his chin to his chest and repeats things he just said in ominous voices.  "Must Clean All of the Things!!!"

Ryan told me to take it easy today and relax, but the look in his eyes told me that he knew I was going to do what I felt I had to do.  He knows me so well. 

I got some coffee (YES!  The Horror!  Pregnant woman has coffee!) and spent 45 minutes getting my coupons organized because today I'm also an anal nutjob.  I then went to Target and Publix (where said coupons came in handy.  At Target I saved $67 and at Publix I spent $20 and saved $17):


I am currently doing laundry, while baking cupcakes for an order.  Other various projects that I began before grocery shopping are half completed around my house.  There are messes everywhere, from things I destroyed while looking for other things I needed.  I am overwhelmed and have hit a wall.  And I'm still having contractions, though not painful, hurty ones, and not even close to being timeable (despite drinking the water and resting every 15 minutes).  Maybe this kid will arrive before he turns 15. 

This is now how I feel:


How is your Friday going?

A Man Did This

I love margaritas, Jack Daniels and Coke with 4 limes and Marlboro Light 100’s.  I love to sleep in, watch hours of trashy TV and spend hundreds of dollars on random things at Target.  I love to book spur of the moment vacations and spend long nights out with friends.  I love to spend the entire day after a long night out in bed, wrapped in my down comforter, swearing off alcohol and cigarettes.  I love quad venti skinny vanilla lattes from Starbucks, even though they’re overpriced and have more espresso than 4 people need in one day. 

I will become a mother very soon and all of those things I love have become distant memories.  The cigarettes, which I know were a gross habit to begin with, have been gone since the second I found out I was in the family way.  The margaritas and Jack Daniels are only memories (very vibrant memories, still!).  The sleeping thing is difficult now, though I have to say, I got some great sleep the first three months of my pregnancy…in between the gagging at everything I smelled (which included my precious lattes).

Pregnancy is not all puppies and rainbows; I will probably be the first person to tell you the honest truth about that.  Before I got pregnant, everyone used to tell me how much they loved being pregnant, how they felt great and glowy and just so at peace.  That is a bunch of bullshit.  Don’t get me wrong, there are some pluses to pregnancy (the sleep!  the occasional pampering! the eating everything in sight with an “excuse”!) but there are a LOT of things that they won’t tell you about.  That’s where I step in.

I am no expert here, as this is my first (and maybe last!) go-round with pregnancy.  The purpose of this blog is to share with you my thoughts and anecdotes, as well as serve as a diary of sorts (in case my husband convinces me it’s time to try for baby number two).   This blog will also serve as my time capsule, so when my son, Emmett, is older and ripe for grounding and punishment, I can pull up my stories about my pregnancy rage (and other emotions) and pains (heartburn, the ‘roids, stretchmarks, etc.) to throw them back at him, just like my mother did to me.

You probably are thinking I’m going to be the worst mom in the world, simply because I don’t enjoy being pregnant, which is the furthest thing from the truth.  I can’t wait to meet my son, to hear him cry (this will probably be the last time you’ll ever hear me say that!) and watch him grow.  I am on the edge of my seat to find out if his eyes will be a beautiful blue-green like his fathers and if the old wives tales about heartburn are true and he will have a full head of hair.  I can’t wait to teach him things and spend time together as a family. 

Now that the sappy stuff is out of the way, stay tuned for more tales of what a man did to me.