May 18, 2009

No Wonder I’m Always Tired

I went to bed late last night because I was working and didn’t want to stop until I was finished.

Midnight rolls around and I’m all, “Holy Cow, I should really get some sleep.”  So I crawl into bed and within minutes my tired body is at rest.

Thirty minutes later I’m awake because I have rhinitus and need to blow my nose for the 80-millionth time that day.

Forty minutes after that, I’m awake because OMG, I really, REALLY have to pee.

At 2:30 a.m., I wake up thirsty.  VERY THIRSTY.  So I down a glass of water and then try to go back to sleep.

Then, at 3:40 a.m., I have to pee.  AGAIN.

I finally get back to sleep only to hear my husband’s alarm clock go off at 5:15 a.m.  Poor guy had to work early.

He quickly shuts off that blaring disturbance and I continue to drift in and out of sleep until my alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m.

I thought I set it for eight.  I guess I was so damn tired last night that the 6 looked like an 8.

And I wonder why I’m always freakin’ tired?  Duh.

May 16, 2009

Only In My Dreams

What is it with pregnancy and freaky dreams?  Lately I’ve been having some crazy ones.

Last night I had a dream about my old boss.  I couldn’t stand the guy, but in my dream we were having an affair.  I woke up completely freaked out. Grossed out, rather.  Ew.

The night before that I had a dream that I was on Dancing With the Stars along with several of my old co-workers.  One of these co-workers is also pregnant in real life (in fact we have the same due date).

In the dream we were the two pregnant contestants, and we were wearing flashy, glittery costumes that showed off our baby bumps (mine is more baby “plump”).  I ended up fighting with her over Maksim Chmerkovskiy.  He was paired with me, and she tried to steal him for herself.  I pulled her hair and told her to back off.

The dream continued and my first dance with Maks was the Cha-Cha-Cha.  During the dance my belly suddenly fell off.  My friend was partnered with Mark Ballas, and they had to dance the Tango.  During their dance her water broke, and Tom Bergeron mopped the dancefloor with Bruno’s suit coat.

Freaky, yes?  I think so.  When I told my pal about this she laughed and laughed.

“Only in your dreams,” she said. “I could totally take you in a fight.”

She’s probably right.  She’s much taller than me.  She could definitely kick my ass.

May 14, 2009

Toasted English Muffins With Peanut Butter

While this pregnancy hasn’t been horrible, I have done my fair share of complaining about all the ailments I’ve experienced.  Let’s review, shall we?

There was the bloating, the morning sickness, the headaches, the constant hunger followed by weeks of constant nausea in which I didn’t want to eat anything, and the ligaments stretching and sciatica and… oh my gosh did I tell you I have a UTI and didn’t even know it?

Seriously.  The doctor’s office called yesterday to say that my urine culture showed bacteria and this means it’s a urinary tract infection (“which is so common in pregnancy!” the nurse tells me in an unusually chipper voice) and they needed to prescribe an antibiotic.

“I had a UTI when I was 19, and believe me I know what it feels like.  It’s horrible.  I don’t feel at all like that.” I said.

The nurse explained that sometimes UTI’s don’t have that terrible burning feeling and that it’s best to take the medicine to get rid of it. 

Um, duh.

So now I’m taking four different pills each morning (prenatals, folic acid, hypertension and now antibiotic) and drinking loads of water.  It sucks.  But you know what?  There is one thing I like about being pregnant.  Cravings.   I love cravings!

Right now, I only want to eat toasted English muffins with peanut butter, followed by a glass of cold milk.  It’s awesome.  It’s the only thing that makes me happy this pregnancy.  Other than the baby I’ll be having, of course.  This is the only craving I can actually give in to.   The fajita craving?  Yeah, still want those like mad but can’t have ‘em.  I’ll pay top dollar to the person who can find me a salt free fajita recipe.

For now, muffins and peanut butter it is.

May 13, 2009

Naughty Words

It was 7 a.m. when Dawson woke up and padded down the hallway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Mommy,” he said as he climbed onto the couch, “I had a dream about my friend.  He said naughty words.”

My eyes grew wide and I tried to figure out what to say.

“Umm,” I started. “Your friend said naughty words in your dream?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What kind of naughty words?” I was afraid to ask, but I figured it would be a teaching moment.

Dawson grew quiet and hid his face under his blanket.

“I don’t want to say,” he said. “You’ll be mad at me.”

“I won’t be mad, you can tell me anything.” I told him.

“Well, he said ‘bitch’ and that’s a bad word, right?” Dawson asked.

“Yes, that’s a bad word.” I paused, “Do you know other bad words, Dawson?”

“Uh-huh.  I heard the neighbor say ‘fuck’.” Dawson replied.

I nearly fainted.

“Dawson that’s a really bad word.  We don’t say that word, okay?  If you ever hear anyone say that word, even Mommy or Daddy, you have permission to tell them it’s not okay to say that word.”

Dawson nodded his head.  A few minutes later he said, “Mom, you can’t say that other bad word, okay?”

“Which bad word?” I asked.

He giggled and said, “Moron.  You can’t say that.  It’s a bad word.”

I just smiled.  Then I asked, “Does Daddy ever say bad words?”

Dawson looked at me and giggled again.  “Yeah, he said ‘God dang-it’ when I left my toys on the stairs.”

I had to fight back the laughter.

Looks like we’ll be having a family discussion about swear words very soon.