Cheers & Jeers: Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Ball Edition
Internet, it seems I’m running high on hormones and low on patience these days, a combination usually resulting in restraining orders, trial separations, and guest spots on Maury. So, before I end up breaking a chair over some bitch’s face on a daytime television show sponsored solely by advertisements for slip-and-fall attorneys and the culinary institute, I figured I’d better do some therapeutic online venting. It’s either that or marinating my prenatal vitamins in Tanqueray, and I think the choice is clear.
(Jeers first, lest my head explode.)
- WORK. Which…I can’t really talk about. AAAAAGH! But let’s just say that about a month ago, I got a new position (as well as an embryo). Problem is, the replacement for my old position still hasn’t started yet, for reasons that make my blood boil in the style of hot lava. ANYHOO, what this means is that I have been doing BOTH jobs. For a MONTH. With MORNING SICKNESS. Internet, I do not think I have to tell you how badly I want to kick Work in the nuts right now, but: I REALLY WANT TO KICK WORK IN THE NUTS RIGHT NOW.
- FAMILY STUFF. Which…I also can’t really talk about. AAAAGH! I don’t really even know how to dance around this one, but let’s just say that me having a baby is going to bring up some issues surrounding the choices we have made about how to raise said baby. These choices will make some people very, very angry. So here I wait for the shitstorm to descend upon me, in my double-wide of “It’s my child and I’ll do as I see fit,” which will be the first thing to get swept up and blown to smithereens. Oooh…see what I did there? I crafted a terrible metaphor! Let’s move on.
- MATERNITY LEAVE. OK, this is a partial Cheer: I do get some paid leave, which is awesome. And I am fine with coming back to work, as I’ve always known I’m not the stay-at-home type (or maybe I am? Oh, I don’t fucking know). THE THING IS: I started that new position, and I have a very strong feeling that when I announce my pregnancy at work, the reaction I get will not be of the unabashed-happiness-and-congratulations kind. I’m pretty sure I’m going to mostly get a thinly veiled vibe of “How dare you inconvenience us with your vagina!” Maybe I’m not giving people enough credit, and perhaps I’m just projecting my fears, but…I just have a feeling about this one, Internet. And I am not in a good place to handle that kind of assholery should it actually come to pass (translation: I foresee a public display of weeping). In the meantime, I’m taking my anxiety out on a bag of gummy worms (DEAR GOD, these things are AMAZING).
- THE ELECTION. I don’t want to delve too deeply into this one, but there are certain vice-presidential candidates that drive me into a rage faster than when we are out of salsa. And that, my friends, is some fast rage.
- GO TO SLEEP, CRAZY PREGNANT LADY. I’ve reserved this last Jeer for the various and sundry complaints brought on by pregnancy and its wacky hormones. Read this laundry list and feel very sorry for Brad (who has to listen to all of these complaints live and in living color, while making sure I don’t catch him rolling his eyes): I’m too hot, I’m too cold, I can’t get comfortable, I’m so tired, I can’t fall asleep, I can’t wake up, I had a bad dream, I miss coffee, coffee is gross, I can’t stop eating, look at how bloated I am, this can’t be normal, I’m a terrible mother already, I don’t want to be around babies, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?, I’m so ungrateful, I have too many evening commitments, my pants are tight, I can’t suck in, I love the cat so much and she is going to hate the baby WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
Don’t let anyone tell you there isn’t a baby in my house right now, BECAUSE OH YES THERE IS.
Alright: venting complete. Time for Cheers (and maybe just a few more of those gummy worms).
- FOOD. When I have an appetite and I find the right food, HOLY JESUS does it taste good. I’ve seriously wondered if I’ve been absent-mindedly getting high in my spare time, because the only other time food has tasted this amazing, there was a lot of patchouli and Dave Matthews in the room. In the past week, turkey hot dogs, breakfast burritos, cottage cheese, bread & butter pickles, and jalapeño salsa have all made my eyes roll back into my head.
- THEATRE STUFF. While sacrificing my evening naps causes me to feel actual, physical pain, I’ve really been enjoying my latest acting gig (a staged reading of an original script). Keeping busy has been good for me mentally, since I’m used to having stuff to do in the evenings. I’m most excited about my next project, a charming little show called Chicks With Dicks (for which I did a SUPER FUN reading 2 years ago). I’ll be between 4 and 5 months pregnant when I do that show (we’re planning to hide it with some creative costuming), and this means I take full responsibility if my child is born singing “Time Warp” and threading the umbilical cord back and forth provocatively between its legs. These things happen.
- FALL IS COMING! Normally, I mourn the last days of summer in the fashion of Sally Field in the funeral scene of Steel Magnolias, but this year? I cannot WAIT for the weather to change. I’m sure this is somehow hormonally driven (probably something to do with my rabid anticipation of stuffing and pumpkin pie), but it’s freaking the hell out of Brad, who is used to his wife tolerating about 40 days of chilly weather before pressuring him to move her to Brazil. I didn’t even bat an eyelash whenever he mentioned that the house was going to have to be especially chilly this year because of gas prices. Honestly, my reactions are starting to freak ME out.
- THE END IS NIGH! The end of the first trimester, that is. I hit the 10-week mark this week and I can almost TASTE that 12-week goal (I hear it tastes like hot dogs…MMMM). Of course, I’m assuming that I’ll be one of those lucky ladies who snaps right back to normal at 12 weeks, but I’m hopeful. I’ve started to feel the fog lifting this week in certain ways, and I feel flashes of my old self (between naps). I am not, however, seeming to comprehend that – while the first trimester is ending – the belly growth is just beginning. In my mind, I keep expecting the bloat to settle down any day now. I guess I think that back to my old self = back to my regular body. And when I have a moment of clarity and realize that things are only “going back to normal” after I push another person through the ol’ brewster?
Entry filed under: Taste my Backhand.