Ok, I know I just whined and moaned about all the weird, disproportionate things happening to my southerland area (it’s a word I made up…humor me), but one thing that boggles my disappearing act of a brain is my boobs! I ain’t too proud to admit that I’m normally a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee so these orbs of fleshy goodness are like Christmas every morning! I feel like a fat kid in a candy store! I’m well aware that I’m in the “fun” stage of the boob growth because they are protruding further than my belly so I’m going to enjoy my newfound canyon of cleavage! And I plan on “putting it out there” for the rest of the world to enjoy too (visually, that is. If anyone touches them I will remove their hand from their arm with my bare teeth. They hurt like a mutha).
The last few days I’ve been in a whole new territory; The Land of the Last Set of Hooks. I’ve never even paid attention to the 3rd set of hooks on a bra so I definitely experienced some culture shock. I’m aware that it’s not just the buxom girls that are expanding but also my entire rib cage, but I’m choosing selective acknowledgment and I would appreciate being able to play in this corner of the sand box while I can.
As mentioned above, the Christmas-every-morning phenomenon also comes from forgetting everything I did, saw, ate, said, etc the day before. I call this Gestational Alzheimers (G.A.). If this joke is offensive to you, I apologize profusely but I’m still using it and I hope you will keep being my friend. Feel free to start a blog about mean people that joke about Alzheimers and I will follow it. But I digress…
Yesterday, I do believe I piqued (thus far) in experiencing GA. In 5+ years of working where I work, I’ve never forgotten my phone at work, but I did yesterday. Now, I know this doesn’t sound so bad or abnormal or specific to us knocked up gals, but the most interesting and confusing part about this was the inner dialogue I had going on. First, I must preface this by laying out that my parking garage is a good 5-10 minute hike from my office (5 min normally, 10 during my current state). There are lots of stairs involved too, so really, it’s not very much fun doing it the first time around. But anyway, I left the office, got all the way to my vehicle, totally ready to just melt into the seat and enjoy the fact that my day was over and I was finally going home, and I reached for my phone in my purse to find it (much like my mind) missing. I frantically dug through my bag of crap hoping it was just (much like my mind) hiding from me. The last thing I wanted to do was haul my aching, ever-expanding bod out of my truck and make the trek again. So here is where the interesting part came in. I actually played mental ping pong between “who can I call to bring my phone to me” and “DAMMIT! I don’t have my phone to call anyone!” for, no joke, at least 5 minutes. After each “DAMMIT…” I would then again search my purse to make sure it wasn’t in there and then ask “who can I call…” which just led to “DAMMIT!” After I realized I had been playing with all the personalities of Sybil for the past five minutes, I threw in my white towel and went to get my phone, adding another 20 minutes to my commute.
To all you gals who hope that playing Patty Cake with your partner will one day turn into a bun in the oven, just be aware that the pregnancy stupids (or crazies) are a very real thing and they are especially unpleasant when performed in front of a live audience. They may get a kick out of it but you feel like you’ve just been Punked by the Pregnancy Gods. I’m just grateful my mental theatrics were playing out in the privacy of my own car. Also, just plan on needing extra time because this stuff happens a lot and you will find yourself resembling an OCD-stricken person that goes in and out of their house a million times before they leave (another distasteful joke…please accept my penitence). Till next time!
Toodles!
I have On Star in my car (even though I recommend just using them to call AAA or someone else when you have a problem as they take too long to respond lol) and when I do forget my phone from having GA I can use it to call someone. I know that is only a fix if you have the capability of getting on star but that's the first solution I thought of because of my own GA problems lol.
ReplyDeleteI called it pregnancy brain, and it didn't go away post pardum, sorry to say! It has been 4.5 years and I still have my moments! Good luck girl. It was horrifying when I discovered that bruce, who used to be the space case between us now had a mind like a steel trap, comparatively speaking! I expect we will see several more posts on GA in the next few months, sorry to say.
ReplyDeleteI am not currently a mother but I can tell you I experienced what is routinely an OCD moment for me AGAIN this morning as I went back and forth between the car and my condo double and tripple checking whether or not I shut off the lights, shut off the stove, left the key in the door, turned off the flat iron. If your ramblings are a list of things to come then your OCD-stricken friend is not down to play. Then again I too am a part of that ever exclusive "itty bitty titty commity" and your reference of an everyday cleavage christmas may have my attention :)
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Sorry Hun, but I gotta laugh! You are making a very strong case for me NOT to get knocked up. =) Good Luck today, and I hope things go well. And remember....(well try to anyhow) that when in doubt....use a sticky note!
ReplyDeletexoxoxo
I am having a hard time not busting out laughing from this. Having been there done that twice, I get it but the mental picture of you verbally arguing with yourself in your truck is just too funny.
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