I’m Not Fat. I’m Pregnant.

I’m not fat. I’m pregnant.

I have to tell myself that every day. And I’ve only now begun to believe it.

I’ve always struggled with my weight. When I was younger, I was fat. End of story.

The summer before my senior year, something miraculous happened. I dropped 45 pounds in 3 months. I don’t know how. I didn’t even realize I’d lost weight until a friend picked me up to spin me around and his back didn’t break.

The weight stayed off for years…until I started dating Mephistopheles. I put 15-20 pounds back on. After we broke up, I lost the weight, and at age 26,  I was back at my senior year of high school weight.

Who could still wear her prom dress? This gal!

Then I got pregnant. And my clothes slowly started to get tight…and then not fit at all. I cried.

At 24 weeks, I’ve gained 21 pounds. I’m not supposed to have put on more than 18.

And it doesn’t matter how many times people say:

• You’re pregnant: you’re supposed to put on weight.
• Don’t worry. It’ll come off when you breastfeed.
• I’m pretty sure half of that weight is in your boobs.
• You look like what I look like now, and I’m not pregnant.
• You were small before, so you need to put on a few extra pounds.
• The doctor told you not to exercise your first trimester, so that’s expected.

None of it makes me feel better right now.

You know what else doesn’t make me feel better? When midwives say, “How much weight have you put on? Mmm-hmm. A normal pregnancy is only 25-35 pounds…. You don’t want to have a really big baby because that means you’ll need a C-section.”

Responses (in my head) to this included:

• After 2 miscarriages, I don’t care how big the baby is. I just care that she’s alive.
• My cat weighs 9 pounds. If the baby is smaller than that, I won’t know what to do with her.
• After 9 months, I don’t think I’ll care how she comes out as long as she does.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “We still don’t know how the “Sprint unlimited for life” applies to zombies.”—Dana

The Big Wedding vs. My Wedding

Kiefer and I get married on Saturday. That’s just a few days away…and I’m not panicking.

Years ago, Mephistopheles and I were engaged, and he called it off the week of the wedding. That was traumatizing. Of course, two days later he apologized and wanted the wedding to be back on, but I was done.

After that, I swore elopement was the only way to go.

But when Kiefer gave me that option, I turned it down, and for the last four months, we planned our big day.

I thought that over Labor Day weekend I would worry about Kiefer backing out. When I went to work on Tuesday, I realized the thought never crossed my mind.

To prepare us for any wedding mishaps, Kiefer and I watched The Big Wedding.

We really wanted Robin Williams to marry us, but he was booked.

• For a guy, sometimes his “thing” goes up but may not come down.
• Four and a half years isn’t that long to wait for a proposal. Some women wait 10 years.
• Robert DeNiro is a manwhore.
• “Muffin” can be a person’s name.
• Never have sex with a man unless he reads you poetry first…and brings you flowers for a year.
• Docks have a weight limit. Respect it or you will fall in the water.

Kiefer and I are getting married over water, too (if the weather is nice). I’ll have to look up the weight restrictions.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Thoughtsy, here’s your angle for the next time… When confronted with allusions to pooping, explain that ‘Pooping’ may be a bit of a misnomer, as the only thing that comes out or you is glitter. Then if you really want to mess with his head, leave a little glitter scattered around the bathroom.”—BluzDude

There’s a First Time for Everything

Cupcake Dangler (CD):  While I was running errands, I ran into an old buddy, and we grabbed a drink. How was your night?

Me: It was fine…right up until the point that you stood me up.

In my 15 dating years, I’ve never been stood up. Even Mephistopheles never pulled that. He was notorious for showing up late, but he always showed up.

CD: I didn’t realize I had actually committed to seeing you tonight.

Oh no you didn’t…. The c-word rears its ugly head.

CD: I’m sorry. I messed up.

Me: It’s ok.

That “It’s ok” was the kind you feel like you have to say because someone apologized, but in reality, your feelings are still hurt and you just want to punch the asshatted douchearoo in the face.

Except for this, CD was a perfect gentleman while we dated. But it was this exchange that made me begin to realize he wasn’t the guy for me.

My friend Puddin’ put it best: “He’s nice guy. But he’s not your nice guy.”

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “That cupcake is terrifying. Look at the eyes! Cookie Monster is choking on that cookie. Why are you wasting time arguing about desserts and nicknames when you should be doing the Heimlich maneuver?”—Laura

Procrastination: A Cereal Killer

Occasionally, I looked at engagement rings online. So I would be prepared. So I would know which one I wanted when Kiefer proposed.

Aside: I hated the ring my exfiance Mephistopheles gave me, and looking back on it, that should have been a sign. Thank goodness he and I didn’t get married!

Then I stopped looking at rings. Because I didn’t care which ring it was, what was most important was that Kiefer gave me a ring…any ring.

But one day, someone sent me a link to some rings, and I couldn’t bring myself to click on the link for a different reason.

What’s the point? Kiefer’s never going to ask me anyways.

Is that really what I thought of our relationship? That it really wasn’t going to progress any further? Then why was I still here?

So I waited. Maybe I was just having a bad day. But the feeling didn’t go away.

Then I started seeing rings everywhere, particularly at breakfast, and I told Kiefer so (e.g., This Fruit Loop is so round. You know what else is round? Engagement rings!) because I was trying to convince myself that we might actually get married.

Looking back on it, I realize it was my last-ditch effort. Trinity River posted about how “procrastination can contribute to a slow death of the relationship.” Kiefer knew what I wanted (him), but what I wanted wasn’t important to him or he didn’t want me.

Every day Kiefer didn’t show me he wanted to marry me, every day that he’d said he’d ask and then didn’t, was a day that I (and my hope) slipped away from him.

So I told Kiefer, “Some days I don’t think we’re ever going to get married.” Because Kiefer was the only person who could “fix” it. All he had to do was ask.

And I waited longer.

But nothing changed.

So I made a change. I left.

Valentine’s Day and Our Love-Hate Relationship

Valentine’s Day: For or Against?

Valentine’s Day: Love It or Hate It?

Valentine’s Day: It’s What’s for Dinner.

That’s what Kiefer and I did for our first Valentine’s Day: dinner. He surprised me by getting a babysitter for the boys, so he could take me out.

The next day he said, “I’m not really a Valentine’s Day kinda guy.”

RED FLAG! RED FLAG! DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER!

Immediately, I was up-in-arms to save all future Valentine’s Days.

But we have to celebrate Valentine’s Day! How can you be with me and slack on holiday that’s all about chocolate?! Where’s pod person Kiefer? Send him back now!

Obviously, my fit tantrum completely mature communication worked because last year we went to DC for the weekend. Which was fun despite the chocolate shortage and picketers.

But really I’m torn on Valentine’s Day. I don’t expect a spectacular day (even though that would be an awesome surprise because no one has ever done it before). Why the low expectations?

1. Maybe Mephistopheles’s constant amnesia of special occasions made me expect only disappointment on Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, and birthdays.
2. Maybe spending so many years single dulled my feelings on Valentine’s Day.
3. Maybe because I eat chocolate every day.

Instead of giving gifts, Kiefer and I plan a trip together. We’d much rather go on a weekend trip. This year we’re staying in a cabin at Deep Creek Lake.

Kiefer’s excited about the skiing, and I’m excited about the hot chocolate…and the hot tub…and the fireplace. Did I say I was excited about the hot chocolate?