Oh Where, Oh Where Can My Baby Be?

Dear Pod People,

Please return my baby. My perfect little baby who…

• Takes 3-4 45-minute naps a day every 2 or 2.5 hours.
• Sleeps through the night for 10 hours.
• Puts herself back to sleep when she wakes up.
• Sleeps in her crib.

I do not appreciate the pod baby you have left in her place. You see, the pod baby is teething.

Don’t be fooled by the cuteness. This IS a future pod person.

The pod baby you see above is not as easy going as my baby. This pod baby nurses to sleep, wakes up an hour later, must fall back asleep on me, and then wakes up every time she goes back into the crib, so I finally give up and bring the pod baby into Mommy and Daddy’s bed where the pod baby decides every few hours that she must sleep on me, not next to me.

And, of course, I get no sleep because I’m convinced I will either roll on said pod baby or roll over while the baby is on top, which will send the baby onto the floor.

I was willing to take care of the pod baby until my husband and I had this conversation:

Thoughtsy: When does the teething stop?

Kiefer: I think they have all their teeth around 2 years.

Thoughtsy: NOOOOOOOOOO!

So there you have it. Just when I thought sleep was once again mine for the taking, I find out there’s another year and a half of no sleep.

Faaaaaantastic.

The Manhattan Project Gave Us Pop-Tarts

The other day I was researching the effects Pop-Tarts might have on my unborn child. I was hoping to find things like:

• For blue eyes, eat blueberry Pop-Tarts.
• For brown eyes, eat smore Pop-Tarts.
• For a baby girl, eat cherry Pop-Tarts.
• For freckles, eat sprinkled Pop-Tarts.
• To cure morning sickness, eat Pop-Tarts at every meal.

Apparently, no research has been done on any of that. Obviously, our economy is still going downhill if important Pop-Tart experiments aren’t being performed.

What I did stumble across was this. A Pop-Tart-hater site.

If this is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.

 This site claims the following:

• The frosting is made from either the blood of a virgin or the saliva of the three-headed canine guardian of Hell’s gate, Cerberus.
• The main ingredient is evil.
• They are usually sold in pairs inside packages made of human flesh.
•  If left out after heating, Pop-Tarts take on a very dense and hardened form, making them very convenient for use as crude bladed weapons, or as throwing stars.

Most importantly, frosted Pop-Tarts are not suitable for vegetarians, as they contain gelatin.

Lies! Lies, I tell you! All of this is mere propaganda probably spread by the folks at Toaster Strudel.

I’m onto you, you Strudel-de-doos. I’m onto you….

Haters gonna hate.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Wait a minute. No sober person has ever eaten a pickled egg…except now, you, pregnant, eat pickled eggs. Soooooo…pickled eggs where drunk people and pregnant people intersect, but they aren’t allowed to be the same people. I made a really cool Venn Diagram to illustrate this, but I can’t save it.”—Omawarisan

The First Trimester Play-By-Play

After 2 miscarriages, Kiefer and I decided not to tell anyone that I was pregnant until we were out of the danger zone aka the first trimester. So here’s a post to catch you up on what you missed.

Week 4

I’m pregnant and barely have any of the not-fun side effects! Woo-hoo, party people!

Week 4 and 1/2

People, the party is over.

I get morning sickness…at 2:30 in the afternoon.

Week 5

Exhaustion sets in. I fall asleep at my desk.

Week 6

 I fall asleep for an hour in my car…at work. Oops.

I discover that the cure to morning sickness is chocolate pecan pie.

Week 6 1/2

Three pounds of chocolate pecan pie heavier, I realize I need an alternative cure for morning sickness.

Morning sickness subsides for a few days. Panic that I’m miscarrying sets in.

Week 7

At my first prenatal appointment, I see the baby and hear the baby’s heartbeat. I cry.

I am thankful for my returning morning sickness.

Week 7 and 1/2

Eff morning sickness.

Thoughtsy: I don’t really feel like ice cream. Oh…my…god…this is not my child. It’s a pod baby!

Week 8

Thoughtsy: Kiefer! Look at my boobs! They’re flippin’ huge!

Kiefer: I noticed.

Thoughtsy: But you can’t touch them. They hurt.

I cry…at the end of Home Alone and pretty much every movie that I watch.

Week 8 and 1/2

I smell ice cream cones. Not ice cream, just the cones. But it’s 9 AM, and I’m at work. My pregnancy sniffer is broken.

Week 9

Peanut butter and jelly is the cure to morning sickness…but only if you eat it at 2:30 AM.

Thoughtsy to Kiefer: Are you looking at my boobs?

Week 10

Thoughtsy to Kiefer: I need candy orange slices.

The next day….

Kiefer: I ate your last orange slice. ::pause; sees tears welling up:: Just kidding! Here they are.

Week 10 and 1/2

Candy orange slices? Who the hell bought those?

Thoughtsy to Kiefer: Are you looking at my boobs…again?

Week 11

I can’t button my pants.

Thoughtsy: ::sniffing:: What are you eating?

Kiefer: ::stops chewing::

Thoughtsy: I smell…M&Ms! Hand ’em over! ::Opens palm under Kiefer’s mouth.::

When he didn’t spit any out, I actually considered going in after them. He’ll tell you I pried his mouth open and stuck my finger in there. Lies, Lies, I tell you!

Week 12

Thoughtsy to Kiefer: You’re looking at my boobs. Are you at least listening to what I’m saying?

I have only one question: When does the morning sickness end?

Favorite Comments From Last Post:

• “Congrats, girl! I am doing a happy dance over here. Also, I was unaware we had stopped celebrating your birthday; I was still eating Pop-Tarts in your honor.”—Sarah’s Brand New Chapter
• “Yay! You’re having a little Pop Tart! Will you start telling people you have a ‘Tart in the Toaster?’”—Lisa Newlin

 

I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Watching Me

Three things that scare the bejeezus out of me. Three things that keep me awake at night. Three things that I consider my worst nightmare. Those three things are…

1. A Pop-Tart shortage
2. A chocolate shortage
3. Aliens abducting, poking, probing, and prodding me (::shudder::)

If aliens are real, I want to be prepared. That’s why I viewed The Watch. They set up a Neighborhood Watch to catch a killer, and they ended up discovering aliens living in their ‘hood. Here’s what I learned:

• It really pisses off the Neighborhood Watch when you egg them and then use the pun Yolk’s on you!
• If you find a silver bowling ball, don’t put your fingers in it. Cows will die.
• The best place to pitch a tent is in Costco.
  

  This is my kind of camping.

• If you find an alien, don’t drunk dance with him. He’ll get goo on your face.
• Aliens are like some guys. Their brains are in their…pants.
• Sometimes the Police Department rejects you because you’re just too awesome.

The most important lesson I learned is that aliens steal human skin, so they look exactly like humans. So look  at the person on your left, and then look at the person on your right. One of them may be an alien.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “She may be like Perry on Phineas & Ferb. There’s a hidden chute in the fireplace that leads to his base of operation, where he stores his spy gear. (It could happen.)”—Todd Pack

Questions From the Baby Mama

When Kiefer suggested we (him and me—not you) start trying to have a baby, a lot of thoughts ran through my head after that conversation. A lot. For example…

• Is this just an excuse for more sex?
• Is he “being the girl” and trying to trap me in a relationship?
• Will he start calling me his “baby mama?”
• Will he feel like we don’t need to get married if we already have a child daughter together?

Obviously he must be a pod person because the real Kiefer is a commitment-phobe. Except…

Isn’t having a baby together a commitment?

So I started to think about the worst possible scenario: Kiefer and I have a baby, but things don’t work out between Kiefer and I.

The baby still has a good father. And at age 32, I was prepared to have a baby by myself via the turkey baster turbo-slut route, so I’m in the same situation I was expecting to be in anyways. Win-win for me.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “What if you managed to walk through the living room with a big chain saw turned on and you “accidentally” tripped over something you strategically placed just moments before, causing you to “accidentally” cut the whole thing in half just like that? Oops.”—Kim Pugliano