Are we there yet?

I'm not sure I can take much more. I mean, I've got 3 months left of having an in utero inhabitant and frankly I'm not sure I can survive it! What to Expect When your Expecting tells me that as of today my uterus is the size of a soccer ball. A SOCCER BALL people! And you wonder why I am chomping Rolaids like breathmints. My stomach is in my my lungs and quite frankly, I think my lungs have been forced to decrease to about an eighth of their normal size. My insides are just out of room. How am I going to make it 3 more months? There is only so much internal shifting that can naturally occur... surely?

My trusty bible of all things pregnancy also tells me that "some women" may also experience restlessness, inability to sleep, constipation, swelling of the hands and feet, carpel tunnel syndrome, backache, aggresive heartburn, loosened joints causing waddling, leg cramps, shortness of breath, exhaustion, contractions, pressure, kicks to the rib, increased appetite and a fat fat face (ok I added that last one). Well stamp a clover on my ass and call me lucky, because I have hit the pregnancy jackpot folks!

Perhaps the worst ailment of all, is that my sleep habits are being destroyed as we speak. And when you mess with my sleep habits you're messing with... well... a sleeping monster! Last night I went to bed and about 5 minutes later my husband happened to walk in. He saw me standing there at the edge of the bed, staring at my nemesis. He asked what I was doing. I don't have a good answer, other than that I was delaying the inevitable. What was once a place of divine happiness and tranquility is now a torture device. I stare at my bed because I am fighting the urge to just run far away from it. It hates me and I hate it. I'm exhausted, you know, from supporting another life an all, but I can't sleep! It's awful! I toss, I turn, I get up 18 times to pee. Picture a boiled egg with arms and legs trying to lay comfortably on a wooden plank. It just doesn't add up people! My neck, back, shoulders and even arms ached from the impossible positioning of lying with an internal soccer ball all night.

How will I make it another 3 months!!!!!!????

All it takes is a camera

Have you ever noticed all it takes is a camera to shred ones self esteem. People are SO critical of themselves on film (well, actually on 3 gig memory sticks). And don't get me wrong, I'm right there with 'em! I can look in the mirror day after day after day after day, and I see one face. And lets face it- we all have good days and bad days. But take a good day, when the stars align, and the makeup is looking good and the hair is looking fine and as a woman you are thinking- in your face Christie Brinkley- I can work with this!!! But THEN! Then the doom strikes. A camera. You might even go along with it willingly. After all, you're feeling pretty spicy today.

But 2 days later you hear the chime of your email inbox. You see the attachment. You might hesitate for a second, then click on it. As the image fills your screen you recoil in disgust! You're aghast at the image staring back at you! Puffy face, blotchy skin, flat hair and an unfriendly reminder that it's time to invest in some more Crest White Strips. And that was on a good day!

You quickly email your camera-wielding friend. Beg them to trash the picture. Plead with them not to post it on Facebook. But lo and behold, they look like a newly minted star from Extreme Makeover- cute, perky, tan, younger than usual- and it becomes their new desktop wallpaper.

Why is it that the mirror and the camera give us such different glimpses at ourselves. Maybe God is just that merciful and knew if we had to see ourselves as we are, each and every day... well.. things would get ugly?

Sucker!

I am, I'm a sucker. I know this about myself and usually try to refrain from putting myself in a precarious situation where I will be "given" the DEAL OF A LIFETIME!!

Unfortunately, that doesn't stop me from entertaining the occasional infomercial. Thus far in my life, I've succumbed to the powers of the infommercial no less than 8 times. Let's see, most recently it was Turbojam- a DVD workout set promising to get me back in shape after impending baby! There was also Proactiv face cleaner, Bare Minerals makeup (which I still use, albeit through my trusty lady on Ebay), and I've also purchased those clever little magnetic clasps that you attach to your necklaces and some stick-up lights that were supposed to keep my closet well-lit. I've also twice purchased "music collections" via infomercial. One was some Rockin' Christian music and one was a doo-wop style mix. By FAR the worst purchase I ever made via infomercial was the Egg-o-matic. I mean, with a name like that what was I thinking??? It was some device promising to make my life so much easier by allowing me to microwave my eggs. What can I say I was in college... it seemed like a good idea at the time. It met the dorm dumpster years ago.

I bring this up because yesterday I was tempted once again by the evil infomercial. I don't even realize I've stop flipping channels until it's too late. Yesterday's temptation was the NuWave Oven- a gadget promising to cook my food in 1/3 the time of my traditional oven and you don't even have to defrost the food first. Of course, it would still be healthy and juicy (yea... I'm sure) Luckily I was able to talk myself out of it.

I've also been tempted by Debbie Meyers Green Bags, promising to keep my produce fresh, Space Bag- a revolution in closet storage, AquaGlobes- the nifty little glass globe that conveniently waters my flowers for me, the Ultimate Body Slimmer- sure to erase 4 inches from my waist in minutes, TightVac- food storage containers promising to keep my cereal crispy, the Shake Light- a flashlight that never uses batteries, you just shake it to charge it up, the MagicBulltet- a little food processor that would give me instant health shakes in the morning, the FoodSaver 2000- a contraption that allows me to buy food in bulk and vacuum pack it for freshness and the H2O Wonder Mop- giving me clean, dust-free sanitized floors.

I guess the marketing geniuses that work for anything "seen on TV" know what they are doing. Just market to women, tell them you will make it easier for them to cook or clean or look beautiful and or/skinny and they will want to buy it!

I know it's been 12 whole days since my last blog. But I've been out of town once again. Honest!

I learned my lesson from 3 weeks ago- this time the trip was sans 2-year old!!! And that is what I call a V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N! (Ok, if I'm telling the truth the second night away I started bawling like a 2-year old while I was on the phone with my sweet little offspring. You would have thought one of my travel companions had just smeared the edge of their heavily salted margarita glass into my eyes- but no, I'm just really that lame.)

But missing my baby and all, it was a a wonderful little break. I basically spent 72 hours basking lakeside and smearing SPF 60 into my pores every hour (that's actually in no way an exaggeration. Literally every hour I lubed my entire body with a very mayonnaise-like "sweat resistant," "water resistant," "look cute resistant" substance... ) But hey, this skin turns 30 this year, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Oh yeah, and I also forced my half ton pregnant body into a swimsuit despite my better judgement. Try to smear mayonnaise on a watermelon and then fit it into a plastic sandwich bag. I think the imagery speaks for itself.

So basically, I spent the weekend, looking fat, greasy and a little more than pathetic when I turned into Mt. Saint Cry-a-lot. All the whilst my friends drank beer, margaritas... beer-itas (why not mix the two they said) and vodka mixed with any and all remaining beverages in the fridge. They got tan, they wore bikinis and they may have judged me just a little when I failed to hang with them until 2 AM on subsequent nights.

But I wouldn't trade it for anything! :)

An important subject

Sometimes I blog about nothing. Sometimes I blog about my life, my kid, my marriage, my house, my job and things that annoy me. I blog about how I spend my time. I blog about my the things that make me happy. I blog about the evil things that pregnancy does to me. I blog about life's big questions. I blog about stories that move me. I blog about the people that fill my life.

But a lot of it is just banter. I mean, sometimes you have to take a deep look at life's bigger questions. And after doing so I feel compelled to share with the world some of my most important discoveries.

Some people would maybe call this "smut," or "eye-candy." HOGWASH! It's art. Look, man-meat... or shall I say, um, artists such as these you are about to see help the world go round. They help the economy thrive. I therefore give you:

My TOP TEN HOTTEST MEN!

1. Number 1 is by FAR the hottest man on the planet. That’s just a fact. I think about every character he plays is moody, surly, down right grumpy A-hole, but I love him all the same. When my husband acts like that he gets the, “are you really going to act like a pre-pubescent boy” look that only a practiced wife can pull off. But Clive. Oh Clive. He can be my pre-pubescent boy anyday… ok that came out wrong. Honestly. I like my men manly. Hairy… manly… full of testosterone. Honest! He is definitely my ONE. You know, the ONE celebrity that you have already OK'ed it with your spouse, that should you ever happen to bump into one another in a crowded airport, lock eyes and fall madly in lust with one another, then you have the green light to take any and all action you choose! Anywho, enjoy yourselves ladies. Clive Owen:

2. This next man is universally loved by women. And I used to not get it. But then, I saw the man in makeup playing a semi-feminine pirate and he stole my heart. Does that mean I need counseling? Probably. And does that completely shoot a hole in my previous statement that I love my men burly and manly. Yes is does. There’s just something hot about a guy that wears more eye-liner than me… ya know? Johnny Depp folks:

3. In an effort to redeem myself, I give you man #3. This man likes it dirty! Talk about a walking testosterone factory. I’d shovel fish guts with this guy anyday. Is it weird that even when he is covered in 3 tons of sewage I salivate over the muscles under his t-shirt? I give you Mike Rowe, host of Dirty Jobs:

4. Now for the sensitive man. He’s probably a walking talking douche-bag in real life but ever since he fell in love with his dumb-box blonde doctor and then went and died on her, I’ve had a funny thing for Jeffrey Dean Morgan: 5. Number 5 is Big. I mean literally, any true fan of Sex and the City cannot have a proper top ten list without having Mr. Big on it. And for the record I don’t mean SATC the movie Mr. Big- because frankly he’s a little whipped and acts like a pansy puppy dog in the movie. I am instead referring to the A-hole, selfish, egotistical, modelizing Big. It’s just Big and by default he makes the list. 6. Number 6 was a tough choice for me. Objectively speaking not many women would perhaps classify him as top ten material. I mean, certainly no sane female would kick him out of her bed on a cold snowy night, but he’s not a traditional hottie either. I’m not sure why, but I have a thing for him. I give you: Edward Norton. 7. No top ten list can be complete with at least one spicy Latin lova! Just think, vacations spent visiting his family back in Spain, long weekends soaking in his olive skin and smoldering eyes. Yes please! Thank you for obliging Mr. Mark Consuelos!
8. Look, I can’t in good faith finish on this list without at least one great stash. A real man can grow him a mustache hair and be dang proud of it. What better example than Mr. Magnum PI himself, Tom Selleck. Sure, the biggest hit the man ever had was 3 Men and a Baby, not perhaps the manliest of all films I’ll grant you. But he’s got muscles and he’s hairy, and he single handedly made gym-teacher-man shorts look sexy in the 80’s - so he makes the list!

9. In keeping with my liking for men who seem to indefinitely have a corncob stuck up their… well… corn hole… I give you another moody man. But this guy at least has a reason for being so damn crabby all the time. He’s just an uber genius trying his best to free his brother from death row for a murder he didn’t commit. Wouldn’t you be a jackass too? I give you Prison Break’s Wentworth Miller:

10. And last, I give you the pretty boy. Ok, I could never really date a man prettier than me AND has more define hip bones than I do. I don’t think we need that weighing in on the old “could I honestly feel any fatter today” conscience. But since we’re talking about eye candy, he might as well make the list! Yes, you’re so very tasty Mr. Paul Walker, long eye lashes and high cheekbones and all:

Am I crazy? Who makes your top ten list?

I blame it on pregnancy...

So I'm feeling like my blog has lost it's mojo. The snarky cynicism comes across as a huge whale of a lady just complaining about heartburn. The witty analogies have disappeared. I've kind of turned into "want to read about my domestic weekend" blogging lady. Complete with cute pictures of offspring. Which, that's all well and good for some people, but I want the old me. My last blog had 1 comment. My most faithful commenter has left 3 comments on my friend's blogs since their last comment on mine. Sure, you could call me a blog-stalker. You might be kind of right.

And I blame myself I do. My blogs have been infrequent. They've been lame. They've been unfunny. I've just quite frankly lost my mojo. And like all things in life, I'm going to go ahead and blame it on PREGNANCY! Grrrrrr....