Pregnancy Thoughts

Here are some of the actual thoughts that have been going through my head the last 7 months.

• Why do my clothes keep shrinking?
• Didn't I just feed/bathe Pee-Toddler yesterday?
• My boobs are looking rather nice.
• If I have to get up in the middle of the night to pee one more time, I'm getting a few straws and a Ziplock bag and making my own catheter.

• When did I become so lazy that I have to give myself a pep talk every time I need to stand up?
• How come this mirror makes my butt look so big?
• Screw you Fit Mom:

• Is it really that wrong to feed your kid Cheetos for breakfast?
• Why does play dough smell sooooooo good?
• My belly button looks like a manatee's face.

• I am going to be super-nice to Jared as soon as I'm not pregnant anymore.
• I am a little bit happy that I've been sick for 2 weeks so I can be unbelievably lazy.
• Is it wrong to want to hit your fetus back every time it kicks you?

I'm messed up. Amen.

Wuss in Boots

Living in Southern California has ruined me.

Every time I come to Utah in the winter I get an extreme case of wussiness.

I used to wake up at 6am when it snowed so I could spend the day snowboarding in the freezing mountains.

Now I hide in my bed until 10am and spend the day in my parents warm house while my mom makes me soup and hot chocolate. I look out over my parents deck and think to myself, "this looks like a good week to stay in....."

The air is so dry here that I feel like I'm shriveling up into a 29 year old raisin. I would go to Sephora and spend my grocery money buying all their body scrubs and lotions if it weren't so cold outside.

When I get morning sickness I do the usual throwing up and peeing of the pants, but because of the dry air, now I get bloody noses too.
It's strangely liberating to have fluids coming out of almost every hole of your body at once.

We can't even visit friends since we are infected from the cold weather. Ryan and I both have colds. Poor little Pee-Baby coughs all night. We had to bust out a humidifier.

I used to drive like a stunt-man when there was snow on the roads. Over 5 years in California and 1 and a 1/2 babies later has turned me into one of those idiot hyper-vigilant drivers who go 25mph on the freeway. Humanity, I apologize.

I feel out of place because there are so many middle class white people. I always wished I was brown, and in SoCal I'm with my people. Ryan immediately made friends with the only Latino girl at the McDonald's play place. He loves all the brown kids at the Boys and Girls Club. I might make a special trip to Kerns or West Valley so I can relax.

I cried a little because I can't wear flip-flops everywhere like I normally do. Do you realize how hard it is for pregnant chicks to put on socks AND boots???

I dress like this:

Which, I can assure you, is not that cute when you are 29 weeks pregnant.

Boob Flashing

Pee-Baby and I flew into Utah last week.
My mom picked us up at the airport.

When we pulled into the driveway, one of my cool sisters, Rachel, came to the door to meet us.
I decided to reward her with a ceremonial Barlocker-family sister-flashing.

That's how we roll. We don't hug, we expose ourselves.

I lifted up my shirt to offend her with my pregnant stomach and awesome pregnancy boobs.
Of course I made an angry face and did a cute tap-dance.

Then my Dad walked by.
Um....... I wanted to kill myself.
I have never put my boobs away faster.
I don't think he saw anything, or at least he pretended not too. Thank goodness.

My dad is usually not amused by my shenanigans.

I think from now on I will avoid flashing my sisters on the driveway.

Christmas Village

Ryan is frighteningly excited for Christmas. He is obsessed with the little Christmas villages everywhere. I was holding him up to look at one display (for over 25 minutes) when I decided I should just buy one for our house.
Then I looked at the prices - each house was $45-$75(!!!!!), and decided I would rather spend $300 on laxatives, hair product, Taco Bell, and maternity pants than on a stupid Christmas village.

I remember my crafty mom painting a set when I was little. I loved to watch her paint them.

The unpainted plaster houses were only a few dollars each so I bought them and planned to paint my own.

That was like, my 8th worst Christmas idea ever.  




These took FOREVER to paint. FOREVER. Like 6-8 hours each.

I wanted to quit after the first one but of course I had already bought all the plaster houses. It physically painful for me to waste things so I felt the need to paint most of them. Bleh.

Plus, returning them to the store required me getting dressed and combing my ratty hair, so that was out of the question.

They turned out amazing of course. Sometimes it's nice to have completely useless, unmarketable talents.

 

Ryan loves them. I even let him paint with me. His house has like, 30 coats of paint on it.

I mostly let him paint it so I wouldn't have to.
I'm such an awesome mom.

Drool Mess and Cheese Ball

I am a pregnant mess, and now my pillow is too.

I woke up to this nastiness:

Yep..... Chocolate drool on my pillow layered with smears of pink lip-gloss.

The pink lip-gloss is pretty normal. The chocolate-flavored droll, however, is not.

It's now no longer a secret that I keep a huge stash of candy next to my bed that would make Willy Wonka jealous.


My lack of self control has led me to eat candy at regular intervals throughout the night. And judging by the mess on my pillow, I'm not too concerned about swallowing it before I fall back asleep.

The floor is littered with candy wrappers every morning.

Let's not even begin to discuss the fact that I bought a cheddar bacon cheese ball for myself last week.

 

And yes, I put it in a paper bowl because normal dishes aren't classy enough for cheese balls.

 

Pregnancy Boobs

Recently, my normally small "B" cup overfloweth.

I've always had small boobs and have grown to appreciate them over the years.
There are a lot of good things about having smaller boobs than most 12 year olds.

• Automatic member of the itty bitty titty committee
• Too small to sag
• No bouncing when going up/down stairs
• No need to buy sports bras
• When you hug people, your boobs don't try to assault them
• Men look at your face when they talk to you
• You can wear tight shirts without looking scandalous
• Its easier to fold your arms
• You don't have to lift them up to wash under them

But I confess, my inner 13 year old is stoked to have big boobs for once.


I feel like a perv because I stare at my cleavage more than Jared does.
Though I would never get a boob job, I plan on thoroughly enjoying my temporary knockers.

I'm even thinking of getting some classy pictures taken.

Winkle Winkle Star

At the Scott house, we don't sing nighttime lullabies....we growl/yell them.

Here is a typical example of me trying to be a normal mom and singing my loving 2 year old to sleep:

(It is only audio because the lights were off.)

Does anyone know if specialized parenting classes are offered on the subject of "How to Hold in Your Laughter When Your Child Misbehaves"????

I desperately need to sign up for one.