Tuesday, December 6, 2011

38 & 39 weeks: like John Nash, in a less smart way.

1. Nosy neighbor, don't interrupt my porch sweeping frenzy to ask how dilated(!) I am. I'll just stare at you and stutter. PS. Because you did that, I'm significantly less horrified that Harper and Gwandma picked your very last late-blooming rose. Have you ever heard of such? A rose in December? Yep. They picked it. And now it's in our kitchen.

2. I've about had it with all of these sale emails in my inbox. Don't bother, unless you have something better to show me than your Pottery Barn Anywhere Chair for 30% off.

3. Wow. I really thought Henry would be here by now - It's not like he hasn't practiced enough. I've been timing and charting painful contractions in my head like John Nash for two weeks. Like him, because I can make a PB&J for Harper and hang clothes at the same time and not lose count.

4. The first thing I want to drink after Henry makes his debut is the saltiest margarita on the (many) rocks that I can find...and I don't especially love margaritas. The (un)fortunate thing is that I will forget all about that margarita and probably drink some room temp, hospital-grade cranberry juice from a plastic cup whose aluminum, pudding-cup-like lid I'll shakily, exhaustedly & thoughtlessly peel back and not bat an eye... and not long for anything with such ferocity besides elective sleep for the next 6 - 8 weeks.

5. I could not be more excited about Harper's Christmas presents - one in particular - which almost guarantees an epic failure and subsequent blog post.

6. I bought some really heavy stocking hangers at last year's Target 90% off sale.  I was very excited to use them this year, and when I put them up, Harper reached for her stocking - suspended by a reindeer with particularly sharp antlers - and told me she "is quite fond of this one!" (Seriously..that happened.) And then, as fast as lightning - maybe...unless I stood there, stupefied by the vernacular and failed to recognize the imminent and obvious danger - she proceeded to jerk it down from the mantle, creating an inch-long gash (ok...impressive scratch) in her temple, smashing her foot (no, really. she smashed it.. good) and splitting a piece of her toenail. She cried for 30 seconds then got off of my lap and yelled baby obscenities at the crashed reindeer for the next 30 seconds. What a champ.

7. Our girl is an enigma, because a few days ago, Brandon and I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a latte and I asked her if she wanted a bagel and she said, "No bagel, yuck!" so I rolled my eyes at the moment of general brattiness and didn't order the bagel. And then she screamed in the back seat for the next 30 minutes (and into the next day when she would think about the injustice) because I didn't buy it. Even yesterday, when we were on our way to the grocery store, I heard, "Oh noooo! I no have bagel! Waaah!" from the back seat. O.m.g.

8. It's important to know that with all of these indirect John Nash references, I'm talking about the genius portrayed by Russell Crowe in the 2001 blockbuster A Beautiful Mind. Because when I first looked up John Nash because I couldn't remember his name because pregnancy and general toddler antics have stolen my feeble brain, I was all, "Wait.. the South African-born, yet Canadian NBA player?" No. That's Steve.

9. I can not think of a single thing I want for Christmas. I never understood this about adulthood when I was little.

10. Harper and I will now attempt a Dunkin Donut run for cream cheese because I can not bear the thought of waddling through the grocery store with a toddler for cream cheese. Hopefully no one in the car decides to lose it based on travesties of the past.


  1. Pregnancy becomes you, this was hilarious!! Best of luck on the upcoming delivery!! I look forward to hearing about it... however, what shall I do without any Type B to read? Write from your hospital bed, I beg of you!! :)

  2. Oh Martha, you sweet thing. I'll still blog. It probably won't make a bit of sense, but I'll still blog!