Because right now I should be writing my second to last paper

Earlier this week I wrote a post about my husband and my mom. Then I thought maybe I was bitching too much and I had better tone.it.down. I'll save the big bitching for when I am little more well established. I would not want to shock you with my amazing bitchability. Although, I have to imagine given the title of my blog you are coming in prepared. If there is anything I am good at in this world it is all bitch related things. Flipping the bitch switch, acting a bitch, walking a bitch (like, you know, a dog), and whatever else you can stick bitch in front of. I used to worry about this, am I too mean? I'd ask myself, but lo! You know what? I have pulled it off, people do not really think I'm a bitch (beside maybe my mother, but that friends is a story for another time). It is all in my head! People like me, they even think I'm nice. I know. It freaks me out sometimes too.

Anyway, about my mom. She is approaching my pregnancy very organically. She is really into me being pregnant. Me, eh, not so much. So we've been locking horns a little bit, as you might imagine. My mom wants to sing the Jelly Bean kumbaya and burn sage in all the rooms (interesting considering that she lives 400+ miles away) and I am just trying to make it through whatever new and exciting symptoms have popped up.

Today for example, my left nipple is fucking killing me. I don't know what the hell is going on, but as I was busy beating my 300 meter time (3 times over, just saying) on the rower this morning my left nipple was like, "hey Sally! how 'bout you pay some attention over this way?" Since approximately 9:15 this morning I've been considering removing the offender. Or bandaids. How do you deal with perpetually erect nipples? I don't freaking know, but I will tell you that it is damn uncomfortable. So pervy-mcperversen don't get any ideas. I am totally not aroused. In fact I am whatever the opposite of aroused is. I think it is called the first trimester.

Here are some non-complaining bits of interest:

My besties mom (is besty totally annoying or totally awesome? I cannot descide), calculated my due date because my lame ass doctors didn't bother to tell me when I was there last week. 31 October! Yay! I am so excited. I have never wanted a baby to come more on its due date than I do now (hint: I have never had a baby before). I will name our kid Danzig if it does (hi husband!).

Last week at a very bizarre doctors appointment we saw pictures of our baby for the first time. You'd be seeing them too, but I have been too BUSY (read: lazy) to upload them to the magic machine of computer. It looks like a little jelly bean though. Wrapped in a blanket. Damn straight our kid is already freaking adorable and it doesn't even have arms.

My mom sent me flowers today. The card says that she and my poppa (stepdad) are very proud of me. I cannot decide if it is for making a baby or finishing college.


My husband, who basically soars above all other husbands in the world (sorry dudes), rules. Thank you for keeping me real holmes (and making me grilled cheese sandwhiches). Anyway thanks to him we're armed with lists of tasks to accomplish in the next nine months and for some reason all of my fears are quelled by the existence of these lists. These lists mean that we're really doing this. That our lives are changing. And in doing that we're redecorating and remodeling the house we live in. Remodeling makes everything right. I was thinking about it today and decided in additon to redoing the floors we had better put in a new sink. There is no way we can fit a baby bath in the one we've got.