All By Myself

Most of the time, I am a very independent person. And slightly excessively stubborn. So, when I set my mind to do something, I get frustrated if I can’t do it all, and have to ask for help. However, due to my new extreme roundness brought on by the growing munchkin, I am finding that I cannot quite do everything all by myself. Things like dusting the bottom shelf of the bookcase, fitting into pants with buttons, refraining from eating an entire jar of cinnamon applesauce, and climbing on chairs to change the smoke detector batteries have become very difficult.

Just hanging out with the hubs. I’m the round one.

The other night the hubs and I were hanging out on the couch, and I had just come home from teaching. It had been an observation day for performance review time, so I could not sit down at all the whole class. I was complaining to the hubs about how uncomfortable I was, and how tired my legs were, and I was just generally being a grump. I said, “I’m sorry, I’m being sort of whiny about this right now.”

To which the hubs replied, “Yeah, kind of.”

I was so upset at his lack of compassion that I tried to storm off. However, I was laying back, and couldn’t sit up, seeing as how I have a basketball for a tummy. So, the hubs had to help me roll off of the couch, so that I could then storm off. By the time I finally got upright with his help it seemed silly to be mad, so I got some chocolate from the kitchen and returned to him on the couch.

It is very humbling to not be able to sit up on one’s own. I guess I cannot do everything by myself.

Oh, well. Just a couple more weeks and things will all go back to normal, right? Right, guys? Guys? RIGHT?!?

Perhaps the hubs was thinking about my desire to do things for myself when he was talking in his sleep this past week. I was laying there, debating in my mind the merits of a third pillow to prop up my feet, when the hubs started talking.

Hubs: It can do it itself!

Me: Hmm, what can, Buddy?

Hubs: It can clean itself up. It really can, we just have to leave it alone.

Me: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Hubs: The river…it will clean itself if we just let it.

Me: Oh?

Hubs: Yeah, it can do it all by itself.

Me: Ok, anything else?

Hubs: It’s good…all by itself.

He didn’t say anything else after that, and I decided to get out of bed to get another pillow, all by myself.


Losing It, But Definitely Not Around My Middle

So, the hubs and I are having a baby. A little boy baby. And we’re going to name him Wouldn’t-You-Like-To-Know. Our other favorite is We-Just-Can’t-Decide. Although, All-The-Good-Ones-Are-Taken is still a possibility we are throwing around.

The dog was very excited when we told her we were expecting a baby. This was her reaction:

However, she now appreciates the perks of being owned by a person with a rapidly expanding baby bump: stops at the slushie stand to get a slushie for me and a doggie cone for her, longer walks to balance out said slushies, and the chance to model baby hats and shoes that have been given to us.

One thing the dog has not appreciated, however, is that I now cry at the most ridiculous things. Earlier this week I got a yellow popsicle for my snack, thinking that it was lemon. A yummy delicious lemon popsicle. It was not lemon, but was instead pineapple, and I wept.

I was struggling at one point to eat enough and the hubs kindly said, “Well, really try to remember to eat lunch tomorrow.” I lost it, bawling hysterically. Of course, I knew I was being excessively emotional, so I started to laugh, weeping and giggling at the same time. The poor hubs was so surprised, and didn’t know what to do. He just kept saying, “It’s ok…are you ok? You’re starting to freak me out!” This of course made me laugh/cry harder.

Another example of my fragile emotional state happened last night. The hubs was teasing me, saying that we were going to wake up one morning and the dog was going to have turned into a llama. I immediately burst into tears because then she wouldn’t be a dog anymore. Oh, dear.

Basically, I have become a crazy person. I believe that the hubs must have been thinking about my emotional roller coaster this week in his sleep. I was laying there one night, almost asleep, but not completely. Then I felt something sharp poke me in the back, which I instantly recognized as the hubs’ pointy elbow.

Me: Ughh…

Hubs: What’s wrong?

Me: Stop it! Scoot over. You’re poking me.

Hubs: Are you losing it?

Ah, yes. He’s asleep.

Hubs: I think you might be losing it!

Me: Humph…

Hubs: Yeah.

Me (being a bit grumpy): What do you want? Lay back down.

Hubs: Nothing’s going on that you need to worry about. Besides, I think you’re losing it.

With those comforting words he rolled away from me and went back to sleeping quietly.

Yes, hubs. Sometimes I feel like I am indeed losing it. However, I’m glad I have such an understanding husband who takes my emotional water works so well!