Welcome to the Club

One of my very dearest and oldest friends has recently become pregnant. Rather than overload her with unwanted advice, I'd like to just send a memo of "talking points" regarding some of the things she can now expect. So here goes:

Chaika, Chaika, Chaika,

My dear girl. Many congrats on your upcoming addition!! There is so much in store for you -- I can't wait to see how you handle it all. For instance...

1. Farting. Get ready to fart your ass off. (If only!) And since you're a teacher, get ready to lie your ass off (if only!), as well. Because if your life is remotely similar to mine (which it's probably not, but you could get lucky), you will inevitably let one slip right about the time one of your darling students walks to the front of the class to ask you a question. Think fast, my dear, and DENY DENY DENY!!!

2. Boobies. Okay, so let's be honest -- neither of us are up for nominations into the itty bitty titty committee, but even so, those babies are gonna SWELL, and though it will likely hurt a bit and get on your every last nerve, enjoy them while they are full, because like Kellie says, once the baby's had a go at them, they're nothing but flapjacks. Seriously, flopping in the wind, hanging to your knees, rolling under your armpits flabby. Just get ready.

3. Boobies, part2. Everywhere you look, you will be urged, begged, pleaded, even guilted into breasfeeding your baby. That's great -- I hope you do and I hope it works wonderfully. But if you try and try, spending hundreds of dollars on "Lactation Consultants" and new-fangled contraptions you have to strap to your body, only to find yourself spending every day trying to feed your screaming baby, pumping when they are asleep, then cooking your bleeding nipples no less than 10 inchs away from a bare light bulb (you know -- to "toughen them up"), all the while praying your kid doesn't wake up anytime soon, because God help you, then they'll want to eat -- don't be afraid to say "FUCK IT". I did, and both my kids are clearly strapping young genuises, so if you can't make it happen, just know that formula is okay too.

4. Feet. Your dogs'll be barking, but that's no surprise, I'm sure. What I'd like to discuss is the effect their scent may have on your OBGYN. This person will most likely be seeing you down there at least once a month, then once a week, and while I'm sure you will be taking care to keep everything "fresh", don't forget your feet. I personally carried a travel-sized bottle of body spray for the sole purpose of freshening my feet before sliding them into the stirrups. Don't think my doc didn't notice, either. She even went so far as to say that she really wished some of her other patients would do the same. I'm just sayin'...

5. Old Navy has really soft, cute, inexpensive maternity panties. Buy them.

6. Multi-tasking. As your friend and admirer, I know that you are quite accomplished at multi-tasking already, but you'd best start brushing up on your skills now, my friend, cause you ain't seen nothing yet. Here's an idea you should feel free to steal: When you've had a bad day and need to relax, but the baby still needs to be bathed, draw yourself a bubble bath and share it with the kid. Sure, it may be luke-warm, and every now and then you may feel a small toe finding its way to your butt-crack, but all in all, it's worth it. Anytime you get a chance to multi-task, jump at the opportunity. There will be plenty of time to relax when the kid goes to college.

7. Sleep. Do it as long and often as you possibly can now. Once that bundle of joy pops out, well, I'll just refer you to #6.

7. Contractions. They hurt. If they offer the drugs, take 'em.

8. Labor. I'm not exactly sure how painful this part is -- I took the drugs. 'Nuff said.

9. Delivery. If you are as vain as I am (and I'm pretty sure you are!), and you have the luxury of being induced, spackle on the make-up. You will be soo glad you did when you get those baby-just-out-of-the-oven pics developed. Trust me -- remeber how bad my pics were after Ry, and how good they were after Jax? I learned my lesson, sweets. If you aren't induced, I recommend plastering on the pretty every day starting from about week 30 on. Just to be safe.

10. Baby. Oh my God, oh my God. You will not believe how much you will love this little life. I know you will hear that from everyone, and they are soo right. Just don't squeeze too hard, that's all I'm sayin'. Oh yeah -- and get ready to cry.

P.S. I know I said I wasn't going to dole out the advice, but I lied. I'm a Mom. We can do that sort of thing "for your own good". Just wait, you'll see.

Love you!!!!

Sweet Jesus, what have I done?

You remember that Friends episode where Rachel gets Monica to make all her decisions for her? Yeah, I coulda used that today.

I approached this trainer at the gym who teaches my kickboxing class with the idea that I would be willing to let him publicly note my progress (pics & all) in exchange for free personal training.

See, I'm an eensy-weency, itty-bitty, teency-tiny, little bit hung up on the whole 30th bday -- there are some things I wanted to have done in my life by that age, so I've actually gotta start stepping it up. This guy is so good that I know I can get there with his help, I just can't afford to pay for it. Great idea, no?

Huh. He's a bit more into the "before" part of it than I'd thought he'd be -- wants me to look as nasty before as possible; you know, for ALL THE PICS.

He doesn't want me to do anything for at least 3 more weeks because of my foot, which he said would actually be a plus; it'll get me a little less in shape. "It'll make the changes more drastic for the photos," he said. Sweet.

"Fine, I'll just go tan so I won't feel so heniously mortified."

"No no!!" he cried. "Don't tan. You want to be pale. If you tan it gives your muscles more definition -- we don't want that." Excellent.
Then he goes, "And no makeup in the pictures either."

Alrighty then.

Never in my life did I think the words "Bachelor" and "Recap" would be used in one of my posts

Shah turned me on to this blog. She has good taste. Seriously.

So much better than Bob Ross...

Check this out.

A Girl After My Own Cheap-Skate Heart

Check out where I'm lurking now. I think this may be my new fave blog -- after this one, that is...