Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The S-Word

The Hubs and I have a problem.  It's the S-word.  We used to do it ALL the time before the baby came.  (Yes, she arrived in all of her cuteness on July 21, 2011 at 5:53 pm.  Buh-lieve me, THAT's another story for another day)  Now that we're Post-Baby Mode we first have to find the time to do it and when we do it's never long enough, deep enough, or satisfying enough.  Of course Hubs keeps telling me he's okay with it and it's enough for him.  But, I know that's not true and he's just trying to pull up his Superman Underoos and save face. 

Take last night, for example.  It's the middle of the night and we're in bed: 

"Baby?" He whispers softly to me.
"Hmm." I answered huskily.
"Baby?" He whispers again as his lips come closer.
"Yes?" 
"You're on the edge of the bed.  Be careful, you're about to fall off."

I wasn't even remotely close to the edge.  But, that's how I know he's not getting enough.  Only sleep deprivation (**hee-hee** you thought I was talking about sex, didn't you?) would make him suddenly burst through the Forest of Dreams to "rescue" me from the Floor Monster.  Twice.  Yes, he had executed the same exact mission the night before.  But, this damsel was NOT amused.

Of course he has no recollection of either of the heroic acts.  He "rescued" himself from embarassment.  Yay, him!  Personally, I'd prefer for him to forget to do it in the first place.  Sleep wasn't exactly my BFF the last three months of my pregnancy.  Tack on two months of the new baby thing and you've got a momma who's coasting on the fumes of delirium...

Okay.  I started this post in September and completely forgot about it.  I've been battling a serious case of Postnatal Forgetitis (I've named it) that I'm positive is a side effect of sleep deprivation.  People's advice to me?  Write a list.  Golly wow, that's good stuff!  Wait, hold on a sec...

Sorry.  I rolled my eyes so hard they propelled out of their sockets and I had to retrieve them from across the room.  If I could remember what to put on the list, then remember to write it down, then remember to remember where I put the list then thumbs up.  Sheesh, some advice should be called assvice because that's where some people need to stick theirs.  Anyway, I realized this post was "lost" and decided to leave it as-is and insert an update.

December 20, 2011
I'd like to say that The Baby is sleeping through the night (she'll be 5-months-old tomorrow)...**insert crickets sound** 

I'm not sure what I did to make Mr. Sandman skip my house, but I'd LOVE to know.  Name your price Z-Man.  Glass of warm milk?  A new sleep cap?  Someone to carry your bag of Sleeping Dust?  Oo, oo pick me, pick me!  I'll be your Dust Caddy.  Just please, please, PLEASE put my house back on your route tonight. 

December 21, 2011
**sigh** Anyone know if The Sandman accepts cash?

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

X-Mom Adventures: The Hubs vs. The Belly

On October 10, 2010, I said "I Do" to absolutely THE best man in the world.  I know women say it all the time, but seriously, I wouldn't trade him in for anything.  But, right now if I spot a cupcake I may have to weigh my options a little more considerably.  See, The Hubs and I (mainly me...actually ALL me...now that I think of it, that cupcake is looking better and better) are expecting a bundle of cuteness in July.

So, here goes...

The day of the ultrasound...

All was calm as we arrived at the hospital for the much awaited ultrasound.  For five months we had been patiently (yeah, right) waiting to see if our future would consist of Barbie or X-Men.  Honestly, after a few years of Barbie stuff with The Kid I was okay with the X-Men defeating Magneto (and I'm sure Spiderman) in my living room.  I mean, hello?  Who doesn't like Wolverine?  Of course, you can figure out what The Hubs wanted.

Yup.  The Hubs was eating, sleeping, breathing, B-O-Y.  "Speaking things into existence" became a serious mantra in our house.  No "girl" conversations, baby names, pink stuff...nada.  As a matter of fact, he was channeling "boy" so hard; I'm surprised he didn't ban me and The Kid from the house in case our double shot of Estrogen cancelled out the Testosterone mission.  I mean we weren't getting an ultrasound to reveal the gender of the baby.  Nope.  It was Boy Confirmation.

As the day grew closer I would occasionally ask him if he was prepared to hear the alternative.  I mean, it's not like we were picking out produce in the market.  Let's see...hmmm...mango, red pepper, or ooh ooh strawberries!  Uh, no.  Our choices consisted of pink or blue.  Period.

But, on U-Day he had his Braveheart-Gladiator-game face on and was just shy of thumping his chest like a Silverback.  The ultrasound technician squirted jelly on my stomach.  A hush fell over the room as The Hubs stopped breathing.  As the technician rolled the wand (it is a wand, right?) around he remained quiet.  Probably because his heart was skittering around in his chest so much (I didn't believe the Silverback routine for a second) he was afraid if he talked it would hop out of his mouth.

And then the moment came.  Drum roll please.  A girl!  Correction.  Another girl!

Suddenly, a gush of wind appeared that sent papers flying all over the room.  I braced myself as a tornado engulfed the room, threatening to suck us up.  What the hell was going on?  I thought X-Mom had appeared and I was whirling around the room, but that didn't make sense.  Then, I saw it.  There in the eye of the storm swirled football helmets, baseball bats, and golf clubs.  Little League practices, cleats, and basketball goals.  Shaving cream, tiny Superman underwear, and dinosaur PJs joined the party.  But, it wasn't a tornado.  It was all of The Hubs' built up testosterone whooshing from his body at one time and it packed so much force it burst out of the room slamming the door behind it.

Manhood T.K.O.

I knew in his mind, as in any other man's mind, his ego had been dealt a crushing blow.  I let him tend to his wounds in his own way as we walked to the car.  It was going to take him some time to wrap his head around everything.  As we got in the car we noticed a note taped to the steering wheel.  It read:

Dear Mr. H.,
Yay!  I'm super excited about the fabulous fun we're going to have!
Now, I've already put you on the VIP list for the SUPER exclusive tea parties.  The Dress-Up Gala is also coming up and I'll keep you posted on what to wear.  FYI:  Feather boas are a must!

P.S.--I've left you a gift!
Hugs and Kisses!
Barbie xoxoxo

His eyes shot up to his forehead as he turned to look in the back seat.  There on the seat was a hot pink Barbie convertible car with a pink glittery bow.  But, before I could speak (or laugh) the door suddenly flew open and all I saw was his heart zooming across the parking lot, yelping with its tail between its legs.

Oh boy.  Or should I say, oh girl.

Update:
The Hubs recovered within 24 hours from the initial shock and is looking forward to his pink tutus with purple glitter life.  His ego was not damaged or bruised from my "interpretation" of the events.