…Miss Jackson If You’re Nesty
Oh, Internet, OF COURSE I will provide you with pictures of my drunken bachelorette debauchery. My only regret is that I hadn’t thought of it sooner. After all, what better way to welcome my daughter into this world than to post pictures of myself on the internet doing things THAT I HAD BETTER NEVER CATCH HER DOING/THAT SHE HAD BETTER HAVE THE DECENCY TO HIDE FROM ME AND NOT LEAVE PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE SITTING ON THE HEAD TABLE AT HER WEDDING RECEPTION.
And she had better never find this blog, authored by her hypocrite of a mother.
Also, thanks to this past weekend of mass organization & cleaning, I now know precisely where those photos are stored. Well, the ones that weren’t destroyed. Because OH YES, I did destroy some of them after watching my new husband’s face drain of all color upon viewing said photos when I showed them to him lo, those 8+ years ago. MY HUSBAND, ladies and gentlemen. The man I have rarely seen offended or shocked over ANYTHING. In fact, on the rare occasion that I have managed to shock him, I have to admit I feel a bizarre sense of pride. It’s like snatching the pebble from Master Kan’s hand.
“Uh, no it’s not.”
Anyhoo, my point is that this weekend I accomplished some SERIOUS organization and cleaning. I don’t think it really counts as nesting since I had planned to organize and clean, and I don’t think you can plan when the nesting instinct will hit. Also, it is my understanding that true nesting comes with a “burst of energy,” and seeing as how I had totally DESTROYED myself by completing a massive closet-and-filing-cabinet clean-out on Saturday afternoon and had to spend from 5pm on in a completely horizontal position (with the exception of the 30 minutes I spent sitting up to inhale a vanilla milkshake), I definitely had more desire than energy. In fact, I had only managed to cross off a measly TWO items off my huge weekend to-do list, which I would have been more ashamed of if I could have stayed awake long enough to feel shame.
But then! Sunday rolled around. And I actually didn’t expect to get anything done on Sunday because of my poor performance Saturday AND the fact that I was meeting a friend for lunch, and I was certainly expecting social interaction + lunch = long afternoon nap. But then I got home from lunch, and…had energy. LOTS of energy. I cleaned bathrooms, assembled piles of clothes to go to Goodwill, made dinner, and washed load after load of teensy baby clothes (EEE!). Of course, I tend to think my energy was a result of the awesome warm weather we had over the weekend which brought out a HUGE ASS spider in the basement that I did not kill, and now he has disappeared and I am seriously regretting my earlier bout of insect-mercy, as the gross spider will certainly make his way upstairs and eat the cat.
[INSERT PICTURE OF HUGE SPIDER HERE. THIS VERBAL PLACEHOLDER WILL HAVE TO DO, BECAUSE THE THOUGHT OF DOING A GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH ON A GROSS SPIDER IS MAKING MY SKIN CRAWL CLEAR OFF MY BODY.]
Of course, by the end of the evening I was feeling pretty wiped out, so I went to bed at the perfectly reasonable pregnant-lady hour of 11pm.
And then I woke up an hour later.
And stayed up until 4am.
Did I mention I was wide awake?
And watched two episodes of “Throwdown with Bobby Flay” on the Food Network?
One of which was about fish & chips, and it took every last bit of restraint not to hop in the car and drive to England, because driving to England seemed like a perfectly sensible and geographically possible thing to do at 4am?
Picture of actual fish & chips I devoured in London two years ago NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.
I ended up going downstairs and eating two huge bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios at 4am in the hopes that it would somehow make me sleepy, and it worked! And while I did allow myself to sleep in this morning, I fully anticipated feeling like warmed-over ASS today.
AND I DON’T.
Internet, could this be the nesting burst-of-third-trimester-energy all the books are talking about? If so, WHAT THE FUCK IS UP with 90% of that energy manifesting when I would very much like to be sleeping instead of trying to stop myself from deep-frying the cat and dipping her in tartar sauce?
Because – trust me – girlfriend has enough to worry about right now.
I know that the whole nesting thing isn’t really indicative that labor is right around the corner or anything (How could it?! It does not involve gratuitous amounts of fluids and/or pain, the hallmarks of any momentous physical occasion in a woman’s life!), but I’ve been a little nervous about going into early labor because I still have one more (out of town) baby shower this weekend. And the shower is being thrown by my sister, who has threatened me with various forms of torture should I have the baby before this weekend. And since she is making red velvet cupcakes upon my request, I think it would be wise to follow her advice.
Because I would do a lot of shameful things for a red velvet cupcake right now.
And although all the baby books & websites I obsess over read say that there’s no reason to expect an early baby – especially since I’m a first-timer – I just so happen to have a close friend and a sister who both went early with their first. And my friend? Went at 36 weeks. Which is precisely how far along I am today.
So I am going to try to post here more often – theoretically in the spirit of keeping everyone updated about the arrival of the baby, but mostly in the spirit of keeping my mind from racing and suspecting that every little ache and pain is putting me one step closer to becoming a MOTHER.
(Which would also be one step further away from red velvet cupcakes.)
Entry filed under: Gobble-gobble.