Thursday, April 23, 2009
  I Run the Streets and I Break Up Houses
This is going to be a complainy couple of minutes. Mostly because I'm in this terrible in between place of my clothes not fitting, where I'm not huge enough yet to fully fit maternity clothes, but my normal clothes don't fit either, and my bras are pinching me like a motherfucker. I haven't consulted last pregnancy's photos yet, but I'm pretty sure at 21 weeks I look like I did at about 31 weeks belly-wise. People who I haven't seen in awhile are starting to greet me by staring at my stomach, and I can see their wheels turning, and I kind of wait an extra beat to see if they'll say anything, but then I kill the awkwardness and just tell them I'm pregnant. "Oh, yeah!" They say. "I didn't want to say anything, but I thought so." My god, and I'm only halfway through, feeling like this. What will 19 more weeks be like?

Gray might lose his job tomorrow. He's not sure, but from what he describes it sure sounds like it to me. I'm trying to convince him to convince them to hold onto him for another 90 days, because we just refinanced and got this deal from Bank of America where if you get laid off after 90 days of signing they'll pay your mortgage for a year. That plus COBRA paying 65% of health coverage under the new federal socialism act when you get fired might actually be an inexpensive way to live our lives.

I thought I had a baby name picked out, but now I'm not sure. It's complex, the naming issue. It can't just look good on paper, it has to sound good, and it has to be suitable for baby, teenager, adult. The name I want to give will provoke some quizzical eyebrows and a lot of "Where'd you get that name?"s, so it's risky. Plus it's the name of a semi-celebrity's kid, and this kid is about 12 now, and I imagine that in five years this kid will be dancing on tabletops in Hollywood nightclubs, and what if their name becomes laden with negative meaning like, say, Paris? It's risky. Maybe dumb to be worried about it, but I still have to weigh it. Like my son was almost named Dashiell, but I was convinced there'd be a whole slew of Dashes after The Incredibles came out, and I've heard a couple. That stuff matters to me.

Also, I'm trying to make up my mind between giving birth at a birth center and a hospital. I asked the doctor at my current OB's office if they and the hospital would ever let me do natural labor for 28 hours like my first time around, and she looked at me and said, "Um, no." So it's looking like I might avoid the hospital yet again.

I think it is stupid that the toy brooms at Toys R Us are located in the girls' section next to the dolls. What kind of sexist crazy crap is that? While it's true that my life is exclusively about child-rearing, cooking and cleaning, it doesn't mean that future generations have to feel that way. Oh god i'm depressed.

Also, finally, I wish I had an advanced missile system on my car expressly for people who clean their windshields in heavy moving traffic, ie. when I'm right behind them. Because they might get a clean windshield, but then mine gets sprayed with their mist and gets totally dirty. Why don't more people realize this is what happens? Or do they not care?

I wish it were possible to drink whiskey and be pregnant, because I would totally sign up for that.


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