OMG

Bear with me a moment. I need to rant about a few things. It could be the weather... the season... or MY HORMONES!!! Either way, watch out. Bitchy pregnant woman coming through so you better make some frickin' room. And I mean a LOT of room.

First off, let me start by saying the I LOVE being pregnant. Not in the "I feel beautiful" way because lets be honest. This is not beautiful. Let me re-phrase that. It IS beautiful to be carrying life inside my belly, watching it grow and seeing it move. However, it is not beautiful to be losing sight of my nether-regions and watching my legs turn into sausages. If you looked up 'sexy', this would be the farthest thing from it. My bosom is still larger than my ever growing belly... to my husband's dismay. Really? How could they get any bigger? Oh, but I haven't even started producing milk yet! Yippee! I'll need a shopping cart pretty soon just to carry these babies around. To add to the mix, I have continuous heartburn (Phil thinks I am going to be poisoned by the mass consumptions of Tums), sciatic nerve pain that makes my waddle even more runway appropriate, and itching skin from all the stretching. And so far, I am just talking physical ailments. There ain't no talk of the emotional, psychological, and all other -al suffixes adding to the roller coaster that is also going on. But don't get me started... I won't even mention the crazy dreams I continually have.

But I digress. This is not my rant. My rant has to do with the strange trend happening amongst non-pregnant humans (this is not gender specific) and their overwhelming need to remind me of the ailments of said pregnancy and the upcoming state of parenthood.

Case 1: "Wow! You are HUGE! You look like you are about to pop!" When has it EVER been appropriate to joke about how FAT a pregnant woman is? Whether she is or not, keep it to yourself. If you think I am fat, trust me, I KNOW I am fat and your need to point out the obvious is completely... idiotic. Shut the hell up. Plus, I have a baby growing in my belly. What's your excuse?

Case 2: "If this is your second girl, she is going to be HORRIBLE! I mean you won't even be able to peel her off the walls!" We are having a girl. Yes. Another one. Thank you for implying that the second one now growing in my belly will be the Anti-Christ. Olivia is an easy child. I am well aware of this fact, but I can't help but think that maybe our parenting style had a little to do with it. Maybe? But nonetheless, we are still (apparently) expecting the arrival of a demon-child. BTW - I am the second child in my family and I harbor much resentment for these comments since I think I was a pretty good kid (up to a certain age). However, I may be exempt since the first was a boy and I am a girl. According to the experts, gender does play a role in the barometer of wretchedness within second-borns. So we are doomed and Maia will be causing the worst ruckus known to man. Great.

Case 3: "You are going to HATE the end of your pregnancy. You won't even want to move! It will be TERRIBLE!" I am due in August. Yes, August, as in the end of summer. Now, I have lived in Idaho my whole damn life and am well aware of the upcoming weather conditions I will face. Thanks for reminding me how MISERABLE I will be right before I deliver. I was completely unaware that it gets hot here. Thanks again for opening your mouth and stating the obvious. I am surrounded by Mensa members and didn't even know it.

With the insurgence of positive feedback and great news I have been receiving as of late, it is no wonder I am in peachy spirits... on top of all else going on inside of me. But I still have not lost my optimism and overall joyous demeanor because, after all, WE ARE HAVING A BABY! So try as you may, trendsetters, I will not be swayed by your tempting arguments and infallible logic to make me think poorly of my current condition or upcoming addition. I just thought, for the rest of the logical, sensible, and all around APPROPRIATE humans out there, they might want to give a heads up to these forward-thinking neanderthals and tell them to SHUT.UP.

***DISCLAIMER*** If you happen to have crossed paths with me and are uncertain of any comments you may have made regarding the state of pregnancy or parenting, please note: I am not offended. I bear no grudge toward you. Really, I bear no grudge at all. I just needed to rant for a moment about the over-dramatic reactions and advice I sometime hear and remind folks that - in general - people like to hear good things about big changes happening in their life, not doom and destruction. You wouldn't tell your sister getting married about the horrible divorce your friend just went through and how her fiance reminds you of her ex, right? Right. Common sense. That's all I ask for. And, as your mother would say, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." These are 13 of the wisest words known to man.

Winter 2008

So I finally downloaded all the pictures from our camera and they go back to winter 2008. Ahh... I remember those two blissful weeks of no school, no papers, no alarm clock. I was in heaven. While in heaven, I was able to jealously watch my ever-so-cautious 4 year old learn how to ski. I say jealous because I WAS! My present for Christmas was supposed to be snowboarding lessons - just like I wasn't supposed to get pregnant the month before and throw my 'schedule' for a loop. But sometimes you can't control the very things you want to and are pleasantly surprised when it doesn't go your way!

Nonetheless, my snowboarding days are put on hold until next Christmas (crossing my fingers). But in my jealous rage, I witnessed the birth of what will you will come to know as a "Ski Machine." Olivia, though she would prefer to be bound in bubble wrap, have padding on top of every joint in her body, and wear a bright orange safety vest with audible sounds to warn everyone of her presence, found her inner lioness. I have been waiting for the day this would come out.

For those that know me know that my lioness is very present, very obvious, and very loud. I will tell you exactly what I think to your face - in the most tactful and diplomatic way possible - but I won't put up with any sh*t. Now, that doesn't mean I can't banter with the best of them and throw a lil' sarcasm around. LOVE TO! But, if you need a reality, I will happily serve it to you on a beautiful, shiny, aromatic platter. And its not just sass that comes with the inner lioness; it is bravery, a daring willingness to try anything (within reason), all-around go-get-em-ness. After all, I did try to ride a Rip Stick of one of my third graders... Needless to say, I am coaxing this part of her, encouraging it to take root and blossom.

So here are some beautiful displays of the young lioness cub venturing from the den without a safety harness. I am mother, hear me roar.

Olivia 'skiing' around the backyard, trying to encourage her to venture out. It obviously is working well judging by the look on her face...

Mouse House at Bogus where there are many a cautious child mixed with many a dare-devil.

Going up the lift... we have surpassed the Bunny hill and are on our way to attack the mountain!


Pageant wave as she descends from her run. What a beauty!

Kickin' it with the crew.

Alas, she survived her boot camp of ski lesson and ended up going up about another dozen times or so with Dad. After her second day post-lessons, I asked her how she did. Her response: "I am a Ski Machine!" Full of confidence, assurance, and exuberance, she stood before me, proud as can be. I almost cried. My young cub had found her own lioness. Go get 'em baby! Take on the world one run at a time!