Maturity and Other Grown-Up Things

Welcome to my blog, 2012.

Um, I'm pregnant.

HOORAY!! I love being pregnant. In addition to the "normal happy mommy" reasons for bliss, I would like to add these additional personal reasons of my own:

1. I get to be fat without feeling guilty or ugly about it.
2. Stretchy Maternity PANTS!!
3. I get to live in pajama/sweatpants for almost a year while I swell and deflate.
4. My hubby is more inclined to give me Squeezie Feets.


So, just to get y'all up to speed, we're still in Maryland, Ronin is picking up new words right and left, Mike is dropping his officer packet, and I'm almost 9 weeks preggers.

Now on to the fun stuff!!!!!!

I thought a lot about what Maturity is today.

Maturity: Buying the Pop-Tart flavors that my toddler likes instead of the flavors that I want.

Maturity: Only eating one helping of fried rice instead of 5 because I'm eating for One and One Fetus and not One and One Litter.

Maturity: Being okay with myself for only having two solid examples of personal maturity.


The next few things I've been saving up. I have this tiny notebook that I'm pretty sure I yoinked from work several years ago that I write things down in. Here's a few.

*Krista (holding bras up, speaking to Mike's turned back): "Lacy Sexy titslings!"
Mike (turning around): "Titslings?! I had to turn around to see what they were. I was imagining little creatures that had sprouted from your breasts... you know.... Tit-lings."

*It's not playful if it makes me cry inside. (Mike's rebuttal- yes it is!)

*Is it mold... or Jalapeno?

*But I was doing my Barrel of Monkeys dance... and you stopped me mid-Barrel of Monkeys dance...

*I think you'd be hard pressed to get Jesus to pick your boogers for you.

*There's nothing more frightening than someone threatening you with a knife while you're trying to purchase a feminine hygiene product.

*Dear Hulk Hogan,
Please tell me what kind of shampoo and conditioner you use because I envy your luxurious silken fur.
Love, Krista



Here are my predictions for 2012, because I've got, like, ESPN or something.

1) Tori Spelling, the Perpetually Pregnant woman, will be the next "20 kids and counting"/Octomom.

2) I feel another "The Hulk" movie remake coming on...

3) Funk is going to make a full come-back this year. Just funk... in general. The normal kind.

4) Georgia will continue to suck.

5) I will be back to my pre-preggo weight by December 31st!

6) Lindsay Lohan will completely spiral out of control, while Mary-Kate Olsen recovers and gets healthy (I'm rooting for you, MK!)

7) My chest hair will finally grow in.

8) I will get you to envision how I would look in a swim suit with massive amounts of chest hair pouring out of it.



Hey, I didn't say they'd be important predictions or anything.

time for some Lucky Charms.

letters to random objects/nouns.

Dear Polka Dot,
how did you get your name? are you the official fabric print of the Polka Dance/Music scene? who decided that monotonous repitition of dime-sized circles would be a good idea and a fierce (to be said with a lisp) fashion statement? quite frankly, i've never understood your allure. your origins are unclear and puzzle me to no end.  i don't even think that wikipedia knows where you came from.  did you spring from Zeus's head too?

Quizzically,
Krista


 Dear Ponder,
thanks for being my favorite word today.  you always make me feel just a tad fancier when you come trickling out of my mouth.  although, i often feel underdressed when i say you.  you always seem to catch me in my mis-matched pajamas with extreme unintentional bedhead and bad breath when i feel like i should be wearing a tweed blazer, cropped riding pants and a monocle when i attempt to slip you into my conversations.  please forgive my redneckedness.  continue being awesome.

all the best,
Krista


Dear Ronin's Gastrointestinal System,
what the hell????? you produce the most disgusting blend of noxious gases that i have ever been unfortunate enough to be forced to inhale.  i nearly puked twice today because of you.  know that i am not mad; i simply just wish you would get out your scissors and cut me some slack.  dear God do you know how to clear out a room.  the only problem is that you're infused in my son and i cannot leave the room without him so i am doomed to be subjected to your foulness.  however, if it's a choice between my angel child's farts and his full-body masking poop explosions, i'll take the farts hands down.

respectfully,
Krista


Dear cupcakes,
it had to end.  i know that you love me, and that you'll always be there for me in case i decide to change my mind and fulfill my potential as well as the entire couch and transform myself into a 600 pound woman.  i'm sorry for pushing you away and cheating on you with corn bread, but i have to do what i have to do; i need to take baby steps away from you and towards the multigrain-disgust-o bread that society tells me will make my bowel movements more regular and my pants slide more easily over my enlarged rump (because it will be less rotund).  i didn't mean to hurt your feelings, or make you cry.  i don't blame you for running back to your precious Soy Milk.  he was always good to both of us.

tenderly,
Krista


Dear Bathroom Scale;
i know that you and i have had our differences, and that we've talked about this before, but i really expected some change by now.  you have got to be the most stubborn piece of equipment that i have ever purchased.  your days are numbered my friend.  i don't need you.  you're an enabler of my self loathing and a "luxury" albeit an unwelcome one and i won't hesitate to snatch you up and bitch-slap you into the dumpster if you don't shape up and show me what i want to see.  you have toyed with my emotions for long enough and i demand a reformation or so help me Oprah i will see you made into scrap metal and then used for some homeless crazy guy's Alien Summoning Super Laser.

gauntlet thrown,
Krista



Dear VH1,
thanks for showing me that marathon of "you've been cut off you self-righteous princess" program today.  you're right, i do feel better about myself.  keep up the good work.

fondly,
Krista



Dear Downstairs bathroom,
how is it possible that you did NOT smell before i cleaned you, and now there's an odd urine smell hanging in your midst? am I in a parallel universe?  have i become the victim of one of your classic practical jokes?  dude, i thought we were bros.

what gives?
Krista


Krista's Bedtime Thoughts:

1. there is too such a thing as too much Nutella.  i cannot divulge how much is too much, though, as we must all discover our limits.  namaste.

2.  i must guard my turkey deli meat slices more diligently. i nearly lost a dear comrade to my clever fuzzy food nemesis Mischief.

3.  my left eye is lazy.  it must be. my right eye is definitely trying harder at this whole "vision" thing cuz even with contacts while my right eye sees things spot-on, my left eye lets me see the world as if i'm peering through a pool of murky muck-sand-oil-water.  come on Left Eye, get a job.   no disrespect, TLC.

4.  what do penguin feathers look like? i mean, do they have feathers?  cuz in Happy Feet they looked all smooth and .... skin-y.  i'd like a headdress made of penguin feathers.  my birthday is coming up after all.

5.  my birthday's coming up.... hmm. 26.  i might as well be turning 40.

6. six thoughts is good enough tonight. i can't be expected to come up with 10 WHOLE thoughts every night.  not with this much air circulating around my lobes.

Georgia wants me to be fat.

i've said it before and i'll say it again;  Georgia is the most backwards state that i've ever had the displeasure of living in.  it's like the entire state is hell-bent on reversing the evolution and growth of Man.

example.

Friday morning i went to the local YMCA to sign up.  i gained a tad bit too much weight when i was pregnant (went from 126 lbs to 202 lbs.... oops.  damn you taco bell!!)  and i was really excited to get back to the gym and get rid of the JELL-O (tm) that still lurks beneath my surfaces and makes me all jibbly and gross.

yes, jibbly.

but i digress.  i went, signed up, then figured i'd go home, feed my darling son, change into Sweatin' to the Oldies gear, then head back and get my burn on.

and it was a great plan up until i got back to the YMCA.  i was informed that i was an hour too late for the nursery;  they had closed at 1pm and didn't open back up until 4pm.  no problem.  i went home, played with my Slimeysaurus, fed/changed him, then at 4pm got everything ready to go back to the gym.  nothing would stop me now!!

i opened up my front door.

monsoon.

flooding.

apocalyptic downpour.

and a touch of wind.

this is where i got discouraged.  i closed the door, turned around, got the baby out of his bucket (car seat), and decided to try again in an hour if the rain let up.

it did.

so i did.

i FINALLY get to the gym, the nursery was open, dropped off the smiling angel child, and went and gave myself a good old fashioned whooping.

i sweat so much that if someone had collected it as it plummeted from my body, it would have been enough to drown a whale.

think about it.


the moral of the story is:  the Universe and Georgia teamed up to try and keep me from losing my lard, but i gave them a spanking and came out victorious.  though very very sore.  perhaps i should not have tried to lose all the weight at once after doing next to nothing in the "exercise" department for 14 months.


Krista's Bedtime Thoughts:

*a new segment in which i just purge my brain of the thoughts racing around so that i can go to sleep*

1. it's kind of creepy when a guy compliments my boobs, but it feels WONDERFUL when one of my girlfriends tells me that my rack looks awesome.

2. i'm kind of sad that i didn't have a wedding ceremony/reception. all girls deserve to feel like a beautiful princess on that special day and i just feel like an icky lumpy hag.

3. Sensual Amber soap by Bath & Body Works (TM) smells like an old lady, but i really like it anyway.

4. undercooked salmon + standing up for myself and sending it back = free chicken.

5. i think it's hilarious that it scares my son when i burp.

6. an Orange will now be referred to as a "more than Yellow, but less than Red".

7. i wonder if eating the stickers on fruit will cause cancer over time?

8. geez why have i been so farty today?

9. the Hostess at Chili's really need to keep her "stank eye" in check before she gets popped in da mouf.

10. i need to stop typing/laying on my boobs.   i don't want another "milk explosion" like i had two nights ago.