The Peevery

Further Explained

The main reason for the pregnancy secret had to do with work. There were lots of changes going on here and I didn't want to announce it until after the changes were made, but then they were delayed and then I didn't get a chance to meet with my new boss before I went on vacation. Then he postponed our meeting twice when I returned from vacation. Work people read the blog and follow me on Twitter, so I had to wait until I told him, which finally happened yesterday.

Since this is potentially the most boring post I have ever written on this blog, I will just keep going. The reason I have been absent on the Peevery lately is because all my peeves were about being pregnant. Even if my secret was out, I still might not have posted them because pregnancy peeves are boring. Like this post. So here they are:

1. The only time I am not nauseated is when I am eating or sleeping.

2. My pants have been tight since I was two months pregnant.

3. I am now 3 months pregnant and still wearing the same tight pants.

4. I started getting the round ligament pains pretty much as soon as I found out I was pregnant. That means whenever I sneeze, stand up too fast, or roll over in bed, I get a sharp pain in my groin.

5. I have even more new chin hairs. The ones from Kenna never went away. I am getting electrolysis after this baby is born.

6. I am seriously considering an elective c-section, not because I am scared of the pain of labor, but because I don't want to go through the aftermath of a vaginal birth again.

7. The awesome vitamins my doctor prescribed are not covered by my insurance and cost $50 a month so, once I run out of samples, I am going back on the gross Whole Foods prenatals.

8. My insurance has crap (read: pricey) maternity coverage.

9. My go-to breakfast, the Egg McMuffin, has turned on me.

10. I have chronic heartburn.

11. I get up three times a night to pee.

12. I can't get comfortable in bed.

13. I am EXHAUSTED.

Dooce Stole My Thunder

She announced her pregnancy before I did. Her baby is due four days before mine is. She has already talked about puking issues and about not liking being pregnant but liking the baby part at the end. Screw her and her stealing of thunder!

So Yesterday

I'm totally over having this bronchial sickness thing.  It's like a Saturday Night Live sketch that goes on two minutes too long.  Time to end it.

So stupid

I'm sitting here choking on my own saliva.  And not just a little bit... coughing enough to bring tears to my eyes. 

Open Peeves

We have a double batch this week because I forgot to post some last week.

A few peeves from Red:

I only got a couple hours sleep last night, mostly on the couch.  It seems that our two-year old has decided that my wife is the only adult allowed to sleep in our bed, and that as the youngest child she is entitled to kick me out.  Then the five-year old must feel left out, so she joins the party.  I wish I would have known that this would happen when we were looking at houses, because the two bedrooms that the kids apparently don't need probably cost me a lot of money that I could have used for a Corvette.  Or at least a sleeper sofa.

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I think it's hilarious that I can drive about 15 miles down the road from my house, and the gas is 70 cents per gallon cheaper.  This is because our state taxes are not collected by the Native American gas retailers on the Cattaraugus Indian Reservation.  What is not hilarious is that I got a speeding ticket going there last week because the little shit town right before the reservation feels that their patrolmen should set speed traps on a road that changes speed limits 10 times in 10 miles by 10 mph and that at 9:15 pm on a Sunday night they've got nothing better to do than wait for a car to go by doing 56 in a 45.  In the ten minutes I sat there waiting for my ticket, THREE cars went by.  The state will get they're cut one way or another.

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A message to the owner of that black 1992 piece-of-shit S-10 with bald snow tires, KC Daylighters hanging limply from the roll bar, and a chrome chain-link steering wheel:

Yellow lines about 18 feet long painted parallel about 8 feet apart and perpendicular to another long yellow line on that large area of pavement just outside the front door of our employer outline what are commonly referred to as  “parking spaces”.  So when your POS truck finally stops coughing and the last strains of “Sweet Home Alabama” emanating from your blown speakers finally fade into the distance, the rust falling off of your S-10 should land in only ONE parking space.  Not two or three or four, just ONE.  And if you knew that and you’re just a rebel without a clue, I suggest you go commit a nuisance.  Thanks.

A couple peeves from Erin:

I was ready to run to the ER this morning, convinced I had the advanced stages of colon cancer and was going to die any minute, until the husband called and warned me that we ate red velvet cake last night and that would be the culprit. Crisis averted.

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Move Along
I can understand if you're driving by your friend or spouse and stop to talk. But if you have somebody behind you (namely, me) and you can't wrap up your conversation within 10 seconds, I will honk my horn at you to keep driving.

Eye Might Be Crazy

After visiting the polls yesterday, I looked in the mirror and realized that in my haste to get there, I had applied eyeshadow to only one eyelid.  Good thing most of the polling place staff had macular degeneration or they might have asked me if I'd been drinking or something.

Not strong enough!

I started using "Clinical Strength" anti-perspirant/deodorant last week.  I didn't know anything about it before I bought it, I just had a coupon and it was on sale at CVS and I figured a stronger anti-B.O.-product couldn't hurt.

I don't understand how this is clinically stronger than regular shit.  Who was in the clinical trials, little motionless cold-blooded aliens?

First, you have to apply it at night, and not in the morning. So when you arise, you're already half-smelly. Then, if you're like me, you shower in the a.m.  You get dressed, and you're supposed to be stink-free for another 12 hours or so. 

As well as being curious as to its extra-strength properties, I was excited to try it because I was wearing a sleeveless dress to a wedding and this product meant I wouldn't have little visible white spots stuck in the creases of my pits. 

This was a very bad decision.  By 10:00 pm I stank SO very much. I must have had visible vapor trails.  It probably didn't help that I was dancing like a maniac while drinking six too many vodka shots. I'm recovering, but I don't think my dress ever will.

I Am Amy's Kneecaps.

Osteoarthritis is fascinating.

Ever spent time looking at the knees of a G.I. Joe figure?

Joe's leg is made in two halves, joined inside the knee by a small rubber band fastened to a hook in each half of the leg.

Imagine, if you will, a red-hot crochet hook -- one of the skinny pointy doily ones, not the fat afghan ones -- jabbing its way through Joe's kneecap and giving that rubber band a giant vicious YANK.

Take the way Joe's rubber band feels, multiply it by a number you tried to count up to when you were six, and you've got a reasonable idea of what's going on in my right knee at the moment.

At least I can now predict rain with my joints.

Puncture Wounds

My regular facialist wasn't available, so I got the new girl.  [I say "facialist" because it's easier than saying "esthetician." ]

I know you're supposed to give feedback to your technician if you aren't happy, but try doing that wearing nothing but a sheet, plastic wrap and hot-mittens on your feet and hands, and a mask on your face.  So now my face looks like someone used it as a dart board.  Hopefully it will clear up by Friday so I won't need to put spackle on my face to go to a wedding.

Wake me when it's April

Daughter brought home first cold of the season from daycare.