Tuesday, January 3, 2012

36 Weeks and Counting...



Welcome to 2012 one and all!



David and I rang in the New Year in true parental style by hitting a 5:15pm showing of Mission Impossible 4. (My review: Mission Impossible 4 - the best movie that has ever been made in the history of ever.*)

We then went out for dinner at 7:30 (Did I utter the phrase, "I can't have anything too spicy due to my reflux!" during this meal? I won't say no.) in order to be home and fast asleep by 9:30pm. 

It was all very sexy, what can I say.


Now we find ourselves hunkering down to await the arrival of the baby we are referring to as "Doodle Three".

At 36 weeks I have officially entered into the physically absurd phase of this pregnancy. I am ridiculously clumsy, I make a disturbing series of random moan-like sounds when attempting to move in any direction, and I possess a near-total inability to maneuver in confined spaces without knocking items over with my belly. TRUE STORY! I recently knocked my three-year-old off his feet with an ill-timed turn in the playroom.

Also, there is the near-constant crying.


Of late, David has been subjected to bouts of tears on topics including, but not limited to
  • the commercial where Sarah Mclaughlin sings about the abused animals
  • the dearth of Heath Bar Crunch ice cream in the fridge
  • the commercial where the kid admits that he was the last one to touch the basketball
  • WHY ARE OUR CHILDREN GROWING UP SO FAST?????
  • that video on Facebook with the cat who makes friends with the squirrel
  • how come my toes are SO weird
  • it is not fair that I have to pee again!!!
  • you think my hair is ugly, I can tell by the way you look at my head

Adding to the comical dopiness of the late-pregnancy era is the fact that the baby is breech...


...which means that I am now spending any and all free time trying to get the baby to flip over using a series of methodologies of suspect origin.

This means that at the end of a long day of toddler-wrangling, meal-preparing, laundry-laundering, and fight-disrupting you will find me doing this:


and this:


and even occasionally this:

(Did you know that the ancient Chinese practice of "moxibustion"- or burning herbs near one's little toe - has been shown to coax breech babies into changing position? I mean, not my baby apparently, but some babies, I guess.)

What I don't spend ANY time doing anymore is bending over to pick up any of the myriad of things I have either dropped due to pregnancy clumsiness or knocked off surfaces due to belly unwieldiness. This means that my home, at all times, appears to have been ransacked by a gang of marauding hooligans.


I'm hoping that maybe the baby will be willing to help me clean up when it gets here.


* Please note this review may be biased due to the fact that the film Mission Impossible 4 involved exactly no one learning to use the potty or driving a tank engine and therefore represented a massive improvement in recent film-watching experiences. 

7 comments:

  1. I did moxibustion with my twins! It got them from breech to transverse. Not exactly an improvement. :P

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  2. My first was breech as well and after a multi-hour trip to Chinatown to find the herbs I sat for hours with that stuff burning on my feet to no avail. Ah, well...

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  3. Woah if your baby comes out and helps clean, please have Doodle 3 teach my 13 month old some skills.

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  4. You know what? I'm strangely nostalgic for the crying jags. They were, while absurd, therapeutic.

    Okay, that ties it, I'll have to have another for the pure joy of sobbing in front of an open dryer because my favorite sock is in the waaaaay back and, "I'm too pregnant to get my sock!"

    True story.

    Hang I there, I mean, sure, post-partum is arguably worse from a hormonal point-of-view, but fess up, is anything better than satisfying that nursing appetite. No meal is as adore as the one eaten by a nursing mom.

    Crap. Unless you're not nursing. In that case . . . Well, at least you can drink!

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  5. Definitely nursing and for sure WILL be using it as an opportunity to devour a terrifying number of frozen Snickers bars (my nursing Mom foodstuff of choice).

    Yes, I agree on the soothing nature of the crying and to my husband's credit he has really reached a point where it actually does not seem to phase him at all. He just kind of hands me a tissue and goes on about his day like, "OK, crazy, we'll talk in a month...."

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  6. Your knocking your kiddo off his feet and Nicole's sock story made me laugh. :) Good luck with the next few weeks! And I'm glad you got out for dinner and a movie. :)

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