We now return to your regularly scheduled unicorns.

So I am finally coming out of the funk I've been in lately. When you're looking at being a single mom and you're just so utterly terrified, it's a little hard to be optimistic. Luckily I have the best friends and family in the world, and you can thank them for bringing me out of my funk. There are four really funny things that have happened lately, so be prepared to pee yourself while reading this.
On Monday, my mom had to get a mammogram so we had to leave work early. We've decided to work an extra half hour a day to make it up rather than use PTO. Well yesterday she was all kinds of cracked out. Seriously, she was making me crazy. So we had a conversation over instant messenger that went like this.
Me: I clocked in at 6:39 so we can leave at 3:39 :)
Mom: Okie dokie peanut butter.
Me: Peanut butter? Seriously, where do you get your weed?
Mom: And ladies.
Me: No, jelly!
Mom: You put jelly on weed?
Me: I put cocaine on my waffles.
Mom: I fertilize my meth with eggs.
Me: Damn, I forgot to fertilize my meth. I hope it still grows.
As most of you know, we have a strange sense of humor and apparently this is how we express it. The next thing, actually, also has to deal with a strange sense of humor. They all do.
My aunt, Ned, is a worrier. No, her name isn't really Ned but shut up I call her what I want. Anyway, she's a worrier and poor little Nekolai, her grandson, has been really sick. She hasn't been sleeping because she's been up all night worrying, and she was looking into different kinds of medications that would help her sleep. So I said something to her about it today. Her response just floored me.
"Yeah, I've been looking into drugs and I think I found the right one. Uhh, meth. Yep, I think meth is the right one."
So I offered to grow her some. Yep, everyone in my family participates in this whole weird humor thing. For the record, none of us actually do drugs. So don't be calling DCFS on us saying we're endangering the small children we're around. They like helping us grow meth, it's fine.
My mom made and froze some cookie dough a week or so ago, and tonight I noticed that there was some left. So I said we should make it, and by "we" I of course meant "her". So she put the cookies in the oven and put it on Facebook, to which my best friend responded to and decided to come over. We were talking about how she doesn't really like her Queer Studies class and doesn't want to go tomorrow. I told her that at least she has an excuse if I go into labor on a Thursday so that she can come to the hospital and see my munchkin be born. And then came the imaginary conversation of what would happen if she said "my girlfriend is in labor" and it went like this.
Her: I can't come to class, my girlfriend is in labor.
Professor: Wait, how is your girlfriend in labor.
Her: She was CONFUSED. She's better now. I fixed her, with my magic vajeen.
I'm pretty sure she's secretly somehow related to me because she totally gets my weird, sick humor.
After she left, I went in my mom's room. She's decided to start dating again, so she was reading me some of the ridiculous stuff on some of the profiles. And then she went into her messages. She told me that she was pretty sure this guy was a fake profile because he was like way stupid. I had to remind her that stupid people actually exist. But this guy claimed to study languages as a hobby, yet wouldn't give a more complex answer than just a few simple words. So then my mom's conversation with him goes like this.
Her: You are a man of few words.
Him: breathless from your pics.
Her: And also full of shit.
And that is why I love my mother.

Those are a few thins over the past few days that have made me laugh. I know I've been kind of grumpy lately, but I'm coming out of my funk. Adjusting to the idea of being a single mom is a challenge, but thankfully I have the best support ever and they regularly make me laugh so hard I almost pee my pants.

Kissing Frogs.

I have decided to be more optimistic when I go through a break up. I know that sounds completely insane, but hey, that's how I have fun. But I've decided that I don't necessarily date assholes. They're just not my Prince Charming, they're someone else's Prince Charming. So even though it hurts me now, it's better in the long run. It's better than burying myself in junk food, although I did that too. I've decided not to try to date anyone. I'm really good at finding people that aren't right for me, generally compulsive liars and cheaters. But that's okay. I do have one guy in my life who is absolutely perfect, but he lives in my belly right now. Also, I've realized I don't actually want a relationship at all. I just want someone who will pay for my food. But I don't want to eat with them. Or talk to them. Or look at them. And I definitely don't want to put out. So if anyone knows someone interested in buying a pregnant girl food all the time, send them my way.
Also, in case you were curious, my pregnancy pillow is probably the best thing ever. Seriously, invest in one whenever you're pregnant. Best $60 I've ever spent. I sleep through the night! I'm really excited about that because I'm trying to get as much sleep as is humanly possible over the next twelve weeks. Yeah, did I mention that I'm due in twelve weeks? Isn't that just insane? I'm not totally sure I'm ready to have hom here, but I know I am definitely ready to not be pregnant anymore. You know the movie of What To Expect? Well, I'm the lady who gets upon stage for a speech, takes off her bra and declares "this is bullshit".
Alright, I'm going to bed because I'm exhausted even though I took a three hour nap.

So I had a bad day.

Today I'm having a hard time remembering that this whole "pregnancy" thing is worth it. Have I mentioned that I am a miserable pregnant woman? Yeah? Well, apparently I need to say it again. Today pretty much sucked. First off, I have officially begun to waddle. What the Hell is up with that? It's only when the baby is laying weird, like when he has his cute little head in my back and his little feet right up front and he's kicking the crap out of me. But still, waddling. So that's not the worst thing in the world, I knew it was bound to happen eventually and so far it's limited. Alright, cool, I can handle that. So I came home and for the first time in a long time I wasn't exhausted! I was so super excited. Especially since I took a nap yesterday and woke up so incredibly pissed off that I'm a little surprised that no one ended up murdered. So I decided to eat and that was when the exhaustion hit me. So, like my normal pregnant self, I took a nap. And woke up with a horrible, splitting headache. I took some Tylenol and that went away. Awesome, I was feeling better and a little more optimistic. Well, apparently when you're pregnant your muscles get relaxed, and the valve in your stomach that keeps things in your stomach and out of your throat basically doesn't work anymore. Which is why so many pregnant woman experience heartburn. And, as I learned from experience, it doesn't actively keep anything in your stomach anymore. So I threw up. Twice. With no warning whatsoever. I was sitting in bed, so thank God I swallowed it otherwise I would have a bed full of vomit. After the burning in my throat finally stopped, I was determined not to let this get me down. So I went to get in the shower and did my normal routine of checking for stretch marks. Apparently I haven't done a very good job of checking the bottom of my boobs because I found about a dozen more stretch marks. Okay, that's fine, it's a part of pregnancy and I'm dealing with my self-image issues (but that's a blog for another time) so I'm fine. I get out and I'm putting on lotion, and that's when I realize that I can't feel the bones in my ankles anymore. I don't have a place where my calves stop and my ankles start any more. They are so swollen that they look ridiculous and weird and kinda like have pool floaties where my ankles should be.
So after everything that has happened today, I'm having a difficult time remembering that there's a cute little perfect baby in my belly that will make it all worth it. He has a tendency to remind me, though, because whenever I'm feeling down, he starts wiggling around to remind me that he's in there. The love that I have for my son makes the fact that I've had a miserable pregnancy absolutely, 100% worth it.
Thanks for listening to me complain, I'll try to be back to your regularly scheduled unicorns and rainbows by my next post.

My first bar experience and how my dog is going to kill herself.

Yep, that's right, I had my first bar experience last night. Of course, I didn't get the whole experience since I'm only 20 and pregnant, but it was good enough for me. You may be wondering how I got into a bar since I'm only 20. My dad plays in like 4 different bands, and one of them was playing at this bar last night, and it was also a very special occasion, so my dad talked to the owner and got special permission for Payton and I to be there (for a limited amount of time). What was so important that I needed to go to a bar? My dad got engaged! It may not seem very romantic for him to propose at a bar, but for them it was perfect. This bar is where my dad and Christie met. He had invited a ton of people so they had a bunch of friends there. Before his band went on, he played a short, 3 song set of love songs. During the last song, he had Christie come on stage and sing back up for him. When the song was over, he got down on one knee and proposed. Of course, she said yes! I am so happy for them and so proud of my dad.
Payton and I were a little immature about it. The whole time we kept leaning over to each other and saying "heh, we're in a bar." When we first got there, my dad had gotten us Cokes and so when we left after my dad proposed, we realized "we were in a bar. We had a drink in a bar. We didn't pay for our drink in a bar!" and then Payton says to me "some guy bought us a drink in a bar!" It doesn't matter that the "some guy" was my dad. We kept saying that the whole way home and I realized that that is exactly why people don't let us in bars.
In other news, I'm pretty sure that Clementine is going to give herself a heart attack and die. She has been so freakishly anxious lately. More than usual. She has now torn up the carpet outside not only my bedroom but my mom's as well. When she's nervous, we can't let her out of our sight because she will destroy something. We can't let her go outside because she'll try to run away. If she doesn't kill herself, I think my mom might do it for her. I know you can buy prescription pills for humans like street drugs, can you do that with doggie Prozac or something? Clementine needs some serious drugs because she's going insane. Today, I woke up and my mom went to church so I came downstairs with the dogs and decided to make myself some breakfast. The sound of me opening the drawers in the kitchen to get silverware and a napkin scared her. The sound of me sitting down in the chair in the kitchen scared her. The sound of me getting up from the chair scared her. The sound of the microwave scared her. I don't know what to do for her anymore. She has two things that she does when she's scared. Either she runs away and hides and destroys things or she's totally up your ass. Obviously neither one of these are desirable situations. So, does anyone know where I can get some strong, cheap doggie drugs?

And as a final note, my baby can now move in rhythm to music. My mom says in theory he can but in truth he can't because he's a little white boy.

Pregnancy pillows, nipple cream and these crazy ass dogs.

In the past 24 hours, we have had three incidents with our crazy ass dogs. As I have mentioned in previous posts, Clementine is afraid of everything. When we got home from work yesterday, she had torn up the carpet outside my room, because she was trying to get into my room. I cleaned up most of it, but there are still tiny pieces of carpet everywhere. We know it was Clem because she's done exactly this before. This time, she was afraid of the notifications that my mom was getting on her Nook. We found her in the basement when we got home. Then, at 4 this morning, she woke my mom up panting and pacing around the room. She climbed all over my mom's bed, on her pillows, on her nightstand. So, of course, my mom goes out to the garage to get the kennel because she's pissed and wants to sleep. That's when she hears it. The batteries in the smoke detector in the garage are dying and need to be replaced. And Clementine heard it. At 4 am. And, of course, my mom let the dogs out to potty, so now Clem won't come in. She seems to think that anything she's afraid of (like fireworks) are just confined to this house alone and tries to run away whenever she gets scared. So my poor mom had to go out in the freezing ass cold at 4 am to get Clem back in the house. So today, Clem had to be in the kennel while we were at work. We stopped putting Marcy in there because she broke it and chewed the lock, so she has to be put in there with bungee cords wrapped around it. Then she tries to get out and scrapes her nose up until it bleeds. So Clem was in the kennel and Marcy had free roam of the house. Apparently she got really bored and wanted to see what the inside of the pillows on the couch look like. Sure, she had a perfectly good stuffed hedgehog that she could have destroyed, but she chose the pillow. So now Marcy has to go in the kennel because she was naughty. I'm sensing a pattern here.
In other news, I decided to buy a pregnancy pillow. I have this dream that it will change my life. Or at least help me sleep through the night. So on my lunch break, Mason and I went to Buy Buy Baby and got a cute little pacifier thing and a baby book and this pregnancy pillow that was $60. I'm really hoping that there's some awesome thing hidden in it that makes it worth $60. Or that I get the best sleep of my life tonight. Either one. Anyway, I got home and my mom and I decided to test out this pillow. We ended up laughing really hard because we couldn't figure out which way it goes so I said "fuck it" and decided that I'll situate it however the Hell I want. Which made her laugh more. But you know what? This thing cost more than human blood, I can use it for whatever I damn well please.
Also while I was at Buy Buy Baby I was looking for nipple cream (I had some coupons I wanted to use today. Not necessarily on nipple cream, but I'm told I need it) and apparently it's pretty difficult to find. I checked the little section where they have toiletries and diapers and stuff and there was no nipple cream. No in the mommy sections and not anywhere else. You would think that a store that specializes in baby stuff would have nipple cream, but nope. I found it at WalMart, shoved behind a bunch of other stuff. I also found a cute onesie, even though the baby has more newborn clothes than he could possibly wear. 

Now if only I could figure out how to get Mason to stop laughing at the words "nipple cream".

Pregnancy is weird.

So I have decided that I need to become a more active participant in my life. One of the things I have decided to do is start a mommy blog. Well, at this point it's a pregnancy blog. But soon (thank God) it will be a mommy blog.
So to get started, I just want to share a little information with you about pregnancy that I wish someone had told me. You know all those people who say that pregnancy is a beautiful, wonderful thing and that it's so perfect and they loved being pregnant? Those people are on drugs. Good drugs, apparently. Drugs that make you see the whole world like it's all sunshine and rainbows and butterflies. Pregnancy is disgusting. You WILL, at some point, be completely miserable and just want this thing to grow up and vacate your body. I was always the little girl who wanted nothing more out of life than to be a mother. I thought it was going to be wonderful. My mother was one of those people who was on drugs and said her pregnancy was perfect. I figured, yeah, I'll have morning sickness and heartburn and all that crap, but I'll be happy through it because I'll be growing the most perfect little baby ever. I was wrong. So very wrong. I had that mentality for MAYBE two days, and then the morning sickness started. Have you ever thrown up every single day for 12 weeks straight? That's just an estimate, but that's what I was going through. I didn't stop vomiting on a regular basis until I already knew that I'm having a boy. The nausea didn't subside until after I started having contractions. Those suck. Especially at 21 1/2 weeks when the doctor you see is a fucking idiot and tells you that he wouldn't stop your labor and would just let your baby die if you did go into labor. So that sucked. Thankfully the contractions stopped, because as miserable as this kid makes me, I don't want anything to happen to him. But contractions suck ass. If you think you're going to have a natural birth... don't kid yourself. These drugs were invented for a reason. You're going to feel those contractions and want to hit or bite someone until they make it stop. Mine weren't even bad contractions but they solidified my decision that the second I walk into the hospital someone is giving me some drugs.
Also I found my first stretch mark yesterday. I almost cried. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I thought I wasn't going to get any. There is no way to truly prevent stretch marks. Plus it's on my boob, so it'll just blend with the ones that I've had since I hit puberty. One thing that DID make me cry, however, was stepping on the scale two weeks ago. My mom and I were playing with my nephew and we wanted to see how much he weighed, so we decided to do the same thing that we used to do with Marcy. I would step on the scale by myself, then with her and calculate the difference. Except that when I got on the scale, it decided to be an asshole. The only time the scale has ever shown my weight being that high was when I stood on it with Marcy in my arms. Okay, awesome, I'd gained 18 pounds. I dropped to the floor and cried. When they weighed me at the doctor the next day, I'd gained another 2. Totaling 20. I'm pretty sure these bastards are lying to me. When I went in on November 8th and found out I was having a boy, I had gained two pounds. When I went in on December 2nd and looked at all his bones (and yep, the penis was still there. He made sure to show us, he's really proud of it) I had gained 5 pounds. Then on January 6th, I had gained 20 pounds. What the Hell? Did I swallow an entire baby in that period of time?
So I'm convinced that my scale is broken and these nurses don't know how to weigh people.