Babies and their crap

I went to a friend's baby shower this afternoon. Even though I sort of knew objectively that babies need lots and lots of stuff, seeing a good portion of it live and in person was a bit overwhelming. And my friend got a LOT of stuff. It's crazy to think about it all. It seems like there shouldn't be more than a handful of basics (crib, highchair, bottles, etc.), but then you see things like baby spa tubs and womb-sounds bears (those things freak me out, by the way, but I've heard moms say they're great). I know that not all of these things are strictly necessities, but I would imagine they make life with a brand new eating-crying-pooping machine a whole lot easier.

All today really did was make me nervous about the impending registry process. I have no idea what a kid needs (beyond the basic crib, highchair, bottles, etc.), and no idea where to begin. I tried, unsuccessfully, to buy a copy of Baby Bargains from ebay, so I would at least have a place to start, but the seller screwed me on that one, and I'm back at square one. I thought about just wandering through Babies R Us, but that place just overwhelms me. I have a hard enough time shopping for other people there; shopping for myself there is going to be insane. I mean, today B and I had a mini-discussion about the kind of bottles we might use (prompted by a free sample bottle I got in the mail), and, in less than five minutes, our conversation had degenerated into a whole lot of blank stares and phrases such as, "Uh, I don't know what kind to get."

Hopefully my wise mommy friends will save me from myself either by giving me a heads up on registering before I go or by ignoring my registry and buying me stuff that I'll actually need and not stuff that I think I'll need. Luckily for me, I still have about two months before my first batch of shower invites will go out, so I have two more months of blissful willful blindness. I'll enjoy it while I can.

Weddings are boring without booze

That title just about sums up my Saturday night. I had forgotten how much more I enjoy dancing and really, really loud bands when I'm a bit tipsy. Weddings also more fun when you have a date (B abandoned me for a wedding of his own). And when your friends let you stay in the world's most ghetto fabulous hotel (despite an apparent stabbing/shotting/molestation risk), and don't make you sleep on the awful fold out chair in someone's room. Although, the fold out chair did come with a guarantee of 80% less stabbing than Ghetto Fab Inn (and it managed to hold up its end of the bargain - I didn't get stabbed once last night!).

Despite all the bumps in the road yesterday, it was good to spend an evening with my friends from law school, and the wedding was beautiful. Luckily, I'll no longer be harboring Lump by the time the next wedding rolls around, so I'll be able to have a drink or two (if I can keep my eyes open long enough to make it to the reception).

I'm Miranda

I recently began a quest to watch the entire Sex and the City series. My friends want to go see the movie next weekend, and, before last week, I had never seen a single episode, so I'm trying to catch up. I finished season four tonight. In that season, Miranda (the lawyer, coincidentally enough) accidentally got pregnant by an ex-boyfriend, and was having all kinds of problems dealing with being pregnant and becoming a mom. About halfway through episode 15, I realized that that's me. I'm dealing with all the same stuff - dread, apathy, lack of maternal instinct. Miranda ended up with a happy outcome (well, so far, anyway...I've still got two seasons to go), and I'm hoping for the same. Even though it's just TV, seeing someone else going through the same stuff and coming out ok makes me feel slightly better about myself. Now, if I could just figure out a way to do an entire pregnancy and labor in about three hours, like she did, life would be perfect.

In my best Chandler voice...Could this pregnancy BE any longer?

This pregnancy is dragging. The days and weeks are plodding by at an amazingly slow rate. It seems like I wait an eternity between my appointments. It also seems like nothing is happening. I keep waiting to feel or look pregnant, but I'm not getting anywhere. This is taking FOR-EV-ER. The next 5.5 months had better start speeding up, or I don't think I'll make it. I'm not the most patient person in the entire world, and this is driving me crazy.

On conception

I find it a little bit strange that I could tell you the date, time, and place Lump was conceived. Don't worry, I'll refrain, to keep the vomiting to a minimum. I don't know why, but I was thinking about this today, and it just weirds me out. I guess I just assumed that most people had maybe a general idea about when it happened, but couldn't give you the specifics. Some of casual research on my part seems to show otherwise. Apparently, several women in my circle can tell you when and where each of their children was conceived. For example, one woman conceived her third child in a hotel room while her first two children were asleep in the bed on the other side of the room. Hilarious? Yes. Weird that she knows that? Kinda.

From the perspective of someone's child, I dread the possiblity of finding out how I was conceived. I get that my parents had sex at one point in time, but I don't want to think about that. Seriously. I had a friend in high school whose mom told her the when and where of her conception, which seriously creeped her (and me!) out. Now that I know this information about our kid, I worry that I might slip up and tell it some day. If I were my kid, I would be mortified if I told myself about my conception. As the mom in this situation, I would prefer not knowing, for the safety of my future kid's sanity. I mean, with me and B as parents, I figure this kid's going to have enough therapy fodder by the time it's an adult, so the more I can eliminate, the better. Damn you, Taking Charge of Your Fertility for enabling me to know Lump's conception date! I'll be sending you the therapy bills.

Today's appointment

Nothing too exciting to report. I turned down the quad screen, heard the heartbeat for the first time (150. Doc says it sounds like a girl), gained a pound since last month (that puts me at -4 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight), and made a feeble attempt at scheduling my big ultrasound (it's maybe tentatively set for some time on June 18. Maybe).

I miss frosting nights

In college, my friend Leyna and I would have frosting nights. We would buy tubs of frosting and some graham crackers (so we could pretend we weren't just going to end up eating the frosting straight from the tubs with spoons), and just sit and talk and eat frosting for hours. They were great therapy when one of us had something going on. They were also great bonding time.

Now that smartypants Leyna is getting her PhD in North Carolina, we don't get to do these any more. It's a lot harder to get together on a whim when you're a 12 hour drive apart than it is when you're a 5 minute walk apart. Sure we still talk on the phone, but it's just not quite the same. A phone connection isn't nearly as good as sitting next to each other on the dorm bed or crappy college couch with a tub of Betty Crocker.

Leyna, I miss you and our frosting. You need to get your ass back to Ohio so we can indulge. Even though the frosting I just ate gave me heartburn and a stomachache, it would be totally worth it for a night of bonding (even if we don't get to drink any Arbor Mist with it this time).

I feel so abnormal

Man, I really need to stay on top of this thing. It's been awhile.

Anywho, abnormality. I've never done this before, so I don't exactly know what's normal, but I have a feeling that I'm not. I'm not a blissfully happy pregnant lady, despite having the world's easiest pregnancy so far. *Knock on wood*. I don't feel any motherly feelings toward the thing growing inside of me. I don't worry about how it's doing or wonder what it's going to look like. In fact, I refer to it as my parasite, but only when B's not around because he hates that. I have no interest in picking out names or decorating a nursery or registering or any of that stuff. That might be partly because people close to us have already used all the names I like and because I hate decorating and registering. I HATE wearing maternity shirts. If my regular pants didn't still fit, I might have had a clothing meltdown already. I'm slightly resentful that I'm getting fat. That might not be a problem if I looked pregnant, but I just look like a college freshman sorority girl who's been hitting the beer harder than the gym for a semester or so.

I know I swore to myself and all of you that I would do my best to enjoy my pregnancy, but I'm really having trouble finding anything about this to enjoy. That makes me really sad.

I would like to blame this on the hormones that have been making me their bitch for the past 4-ish months. I've never handled hormonal medications well. Ask my mom, B, and my freshman year dormmates about my first birth control pill experience. Scary. Very scary. However, I'm secretly afraid that this is just me, and this all means that I'm going to be a bad mother who doesn't care at all about her child. I don't want to be that mother.