|Half Way there (Baby Post)
||[Mar. 23rd, 2009|08:40 pm]
Kyrene the Fridge Mastigos
I am at 20 weeks and there is one thing I know.|
I am having a ninja. I don't show. As a matter of fact, I have lost weight. I am more mobile than I have been in a while (when my ankle lets me). The baby moves in the evening, or when there is loud noises or it likes the food I am eating. Or flails when I have a nightmare.
And that, I guess having a ninja is cool. One place it was NOT cool. Babies "r" us. Where trampy looking women pushing out their bumps who seemed to be constantly snacking on crap thought it was okay to bash into me with their shopping carts. This kept happening. Like "Hey, you have no reason to BE here." I do, and I am tired of being hit. I started to "bubble"- which if cart, person, or family started to bash into me, I would put a hand in front of me. Then, they got the point. Not everyone looks the same.
Well, the crib is bought. It is too fugging big and not sure where it will go, but we got one. Allen's mom got it. But she doesn't like the idea of the baby and skulls...I smiled and told her that it is my baby, and I will decorate with MY tastes. She is kind of going nuts, but with money issues right now, it is okay that she is a bit.
So, yesterday to kick off the shopping day, Beth brings over a "diaper cake." yes, a cake of diapers, washcloths and onesies.
Allen sees it and when he picks me up asks what it is.
"A diaper cake."
"It is a cake made of diapers. your mom got it at the Air Force wives' auction."
We have dinner and come home...where Allen proceeds to "rip apart" said diaper cake to find the washcloths and onesies...destroying the whole thing. I have to kind of mush it back into place and tie up the netting. Still not sure where I am going to put this crap.
I take a onesie and look at it...And we start. Our eyes turn red, and I tell him to stop right there...We start crying. It is starting to hit us. This is real.
Medical is slow as duck doodoo in doing anything...and it took me since late december to even get anything. I finally have an appointment on Weds. Not sure what is in store, but wish us luck.