I wake up just to run to the bathroom for a morning of sickness. I just KNOW that I'm pregnant and immediately make a Walgreens run for a cart full of pregnancy tests, pre-natal vitamins, ovulation tests, (just in case, even though I'm sure I am) and a giant triple chocolate muffin. I get back and take my pregnancy test. I'm pregnant!! Yes!!! I take another to confirm. (you know, like how when you sign up for crap you don't really want online but only did it so you can get to the crap you really want but don't need online and they make you enter your email address twice to confirm it's right so they can send you daily notifications for crap you don't want but you're too lazy to hit the unsubscribe button so for the next four years you complain about stupid emails you constantly get from whatever website sells aloe infused socks, which I would want, incidentally, so not a good example?) ( and yes, that WAS a run on sentence). Where was I? Oh yeah, pregnant. So I take a second "confirmation" test. Not pregnant. What the fuck??! So I take another one. Pregnant. And I take another. Still pregnant. Well I hope the three that said pregnant are correct because I'm out of tests at this point, besides the ovulation tests, but I have a strong feeling that I'm already past that. Can you take pregnancy tests back to the store and tell them one didn't work right? ( you can with lip stick, just a thought) So the negative one was obviously a dud, which is scary to think about, because what if I had just bought one? Anyway, I wave it around and shake it like a damn magic 8 ball to see if it would change it's mind; nothing.
The birth of my little fire ball: I call him this because he gave me the WORST heartburn. As I'm getting ready to jump into my cozy bed to sleep in my sitting upright position, I walk through the kitchen to turn lights off and lock doors, and here it comes. OUCH!! That fucking hurt. OUCH!! That hurt even more! Stop that! He would decide to make his entrance at the most inconvenient time. Off to the hospital we go. Scream-sobbing and climbing the seats all the way there, I finally make it into a room begging for a pain killer drip on the way. Nope, I'm going to shove my hand all the way up your hooha first and make you extremely uncomfortable. Great. 3 centimeters, this will take NO time at all. Right, moms?? An hour later, still 3 Centimeters. 5 hours later, you guessed it. 3 centimeters. Hey, I haven't even gotten the pleasure to meet you in person yet and you're already being a complete wanker face?? And NOW you decide to crawl back up there and take a nap?? Get the hell out here. If I'm awake, you're awake. (Just realizing what I did there) He beat me with my own stick, because for the next, oh... four years and counting, when he's awake, I'm awake. Gaaaghhh!!!
You'd think since babies just poop, sleep and eat for the first few months, he'd be finished with the decision making process for a bit. No, not him.
"Hey, mom. instead of deciding between # 1 or #2 and making it easy on you, as your still exhausted from childbirth, I'm going pee in my own face and watch you freak out. Then while your lysoling my face, (I know it's not a real word) I'm going to projectile poop ALL OVER you! Hahahaha! You need a shower anyway. And, BTW, I'm going to scream now because I want my OTHER binky. And in another 5 minutes, I'm going to scream again because I want my other binky back, but I'll wait til you jump in the shower first and get all soapy before I do it. And since I just pooped all over the place, I'm going to be hungry again, so I really won't want the binky at all. I don't know what I want. You'll have to figure it out"
At four years old, it does get a lot better, because they can talk and tell you what they want. NOT. Hahaha! Gotcha!
"Hey, Alex would you like Peanut Butter and Jelly or Ravioli for lunch?"
"I don't know."
"Well, which is it? Those are your choices."
"I don't know."
"Ok. Ravioli it is."
"I don't want ravioli."
"So do you want Peanut Butter and Jelly?"
"So what would you like to have for lunch?"
"I don't know."
"Hey, Alex it's bedtime. Which stuffed animal would you like to sleep with?"
"That was too easy." But I leave the room anyway.
"Mom!!!! I want my giraffe, and my doggy and my other doggy and my bear and my bigger doggy and my baby doggy and my octopus."
"Mommy, I don't want that doggy, I want the other one. Not that one either, the other one. and my baby giraffe."
"For the love of God."
"Hey Alex, go get dressed so we can go to the store."
On that note, it's bedtime now.
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