I Blame My Mother

Yes, I do. She volunteered for it. She did! She laughed to hard when her friend told her right before Christmas that she was going to be a great-grandma. Well, now my mom is too. That's right. Senorita Psychopath is pregnant. This lovely bombshell was suspected last week and confirmed last night.

I am going to be a grandmother. At 35. I know it could be worse. I'd just prefer that it was better than this. Uh huh.

When I finally find my sanity again, I'll create another post.

(I'll be able to cope enough to nickname this one too, eventually, right? Right?!)

In the meantime, anyone have a meat grinder?

Hippo Gnu Deer

Happy New Year! Blah blah blah, yak yak yak. I know I should be more enthusiastic than this, but I'm just too exhausted. My Christmas spirit left me about a week before Christmas. I swear to all that is holy (or unholy) that Santa is only bringing gift certificates next year. They take up soooo much less space than all the other crap he brings. NOT that I dislike the jolly fat man. In fact, I adore him. He always brings me the neatest little gifts. Yes, folks, Santa still comes for me. Of course, it's my mom, but still...it's the whole idea. She and I fill each other's stockings and buy one or two Santa gifts for each other every year. It's great. Except for trying to find room for all the crap afterwards. I mean, we took 3, count 'em..3, Christmas tree type storage totes to my mother's this year...each full of stuff. Trust me, they were just as full if not more so, coming home. Of course, we also took two dogs, three children, and one bunny. The hamster was left behind to guard the house. (Hopefully, he's rabid) The return totes are obvious evidence that my mother "cut down" this year. Snort! Right! Uh huhn. Sure. "I'm cutting down" is all I've heard since last year when we had to open gifts in shifts at her place. So, in the whole spirit of that ordeal, my family left our "each other" presents home to be opened and only took over there for the giant family name-draw get-together thing, Santa stuff, and for Mom. Now, each of the kids had a total of 6 presents from Santa. My mother had a total of 14 presents from my family. For the name=draw thing, each person in our family had at least 2 gifts for their person. I must say one of the totes was filled with only gift bags since those crush so easily, but still...good grief. That was just OUR stuff. I really did cut back. My mother, on the other hand, for all of her talk...each kid had at least 10 packages from her under that tree. And what did she say? "Christmas isn't about presents alone...but it is for kids." Ohhh-kay. Fine. If my family hadn't left our 'each other' stuff at home, we'd have been opening in shifts again. I know part of the problem last year was the size of some of the gifts. I mean, Santa brought my oldest a really, really long sword. The box was at least 5 feet long. That took up some space.

Enough of that. On to baby stuff. I've been sharing some wonderful pregnancy and delivery stories with Wendy. Like peeing on any stitches afterwards is sooo much fun, and how the lovely nurses like to come in within hours of delivery and start pushing on your belly...which is full of extremely sore muscles. Or how the pain-killing injection they give you before stitching you goes directly into to cut or tear and burns oh so pleasantly. OH, and my personal favorite, being the one to explain to her that when they check to see how far you are dilated, it's not a visual thing until right before the baby pops out...it's a hands, er...fingers, on type of thing. Also pleasant. Am I evil? Oh yeah! However, I've also shared a few truly comforting tips with her. Like a little Vaseline strategically smeared on a pad can relieve the itchy, dry, burnies when stitches begin to heal.Or using one of those squirty-type water bottles full of warm water to douse yourself with the first few days of peeing post-delivery. I have other, nearly as handy tips to share, but I'm holding those back. Why? Because I have sooo many of the other kinds of stories to share too. Doesn't every mom? Eventually, they'll even out. If they didn't, no woman would have more than one child. I still believe the powers that be got seahorses and humans mixed up, though. I mean, really. What a deal those female seahorses have! They impregnate the males. The males give birth...to live babies! Hundreds of them at a shot! The females do hang around for moral support. Well, maybe they just want to make sure the guys don't screw it up. Damn it. In one of my next lives, I want to be a female seahorse.

More baby stuff. I found the cutest flannel and fleece for making baby blankets for Sharkbait and Pillsbury! I made receiving blankets for Bug, plus one of those tie-together fleece blankies for him last year. That fleece blanket is his favorite. Yes, I know Sharkbait and Pillsbury are summer babies, but they will still be babies in winter. Besides, the material is too cute to pass up. And the blankets are oh so easy to make! I don't even need a sewing machine. (Thank god, cuz I can't operate one)

There is even some joking that Batman wants me to come take his place in the delivery room. Fine with me. So long as I can wear chainmail. I'm not stupid. I know Wendy. She'll bite me. Other than that, she can be as mean to me as she wants. Nothing new there. Besides, it would be very nice to see a baby born from the not-so-painful side of the event. Of course, I keep threatening to bring the camcorder along. For some reason, Wendy fails to see the humor in that.

No more baby stuff. Out of other things to babble about. Resolutions? Nah. Gave those up for Lent years ago and never picked them back up. Nasty habit resolutions. I prefer to just wallow in my current nasty habits. They make me entertaining and easier to live with. Just ask Wendy.