Don’t Poke the Bear

Have I ever mentioned that Boo and Radley were born at home?

More power to their mom for being doctor-and-drug-free, but that scares me. What if something had happened?

Because my pregnancy is high risk (and even if it wasn’t), this baby will be born in a hospital. A hospital that—according to Radley—sucks.

Radley: Will the baby be born at home? Because you know the hospital sucks, right?

How would a 10-year-old know a hospital sucks? And how would Boo and Radley’s mom know the hospital sucks since she’s never delivered a baby there?

Other questions and comments from Radley also concern birthing tubs, letting Kiefer’s ex’s mom be the doula, and how drugs are bad for the little one on the way.

::biggest sigh EVER::

I appreciate that the boys’ mom chose to have her children at home, but that won’t work for this pregnancy. How do Kiefer and I explain to Boo and Radley that we can’t have this baby at home because the pregnancy is high risk without…

1. Scaring them.
2. Having them repeat everything to their mother so she’s all up in our business.

Suggestions?

We took Radley on a tour of the hospital, and I’m hoping it helped since he and I had this conversation:

Radley: Why is the baby being born in the hospital?

Me: Because they’re watching the baby very closely to make sure everything is OK.

Radley: Are you scared?

Me: Not yet. OK, maybe just a little. But the nice about giving birth in the hospital is that if something bad happens, we’re already here.

I understand that all Radley knows is home births. And I’m sure it’s not only coming from his mom since his grandma is a doula. But as I’m entering the third trimester in a couple weeks, the last thing I want to hear is how the hospital sucks. It’s soooooooooo frustrating.

Pregnant women are like bears. They look plump and cuddly, but they are dangerous.

This bear was at my parent’s house a few weeks ago. No one was mauled. Why? Because no one poked her.

Don’t poke the pregnant bear, people.

Any suggestions on what to tell Radley? What are some of the funniest comments your kids said about their soon-to-arrive siblings?

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Oh, another one of those permissive parents who let their kids get away with everything.  If you don’t call the cops for pop-tart thievery, next thing you know they’ll be all grown up and robbing banks.”—Pegoleg

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

Dear Future Husband, Consider This Your First Honey-Do List

Dear Not-Too-Distant-Future Husband (aka Kiefer),

Since I started blogging, I’ve mentioned qualities that you need to possess. I’ve compiled everything into this post for easier access. You’re welcome.

First, make sure you read the 10 Commandments of My Future Boyfriend. Don’t ever forget them.

To advance to the husband stage, here are a few things you should know about me.

1. I want a baby girl, not a boy.
2. Although I have a high tolerance for pain, I freak out about the prospect of pain, so prepare for permanent hand-squeezing damage during labor.
3. I cry about everything (sometimes to get my way).
4. If I get upset and cry, hug me. I’ll be snotty and gross, but it’ll make the crying stop.
5. The last cookie is always mine. Unless it has nuts. Then it’s yours.

Remember all of these, Future Husband, and we will get along just fine.

Love,

Present-Day Thoughtsy

PS: I reserve the right to add anything awesome that other people include in the comments.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Thoughtsy’s beauty secrets – ‘I glue my left over monobrow to my eyelashes’ brilliant.”—Daile

Help! I’m Stuck in the Bathroom and I Can’t Get Out!

Last month was full of travel. Just as I arrived in San Antonio, Kiefer was headed to Turkey. He called me from the airport.

Kiefer: Guess what?

Thoughtsy: You’re blowing off work and flying to Texas to see me?

Kiefer: I wish. We got the house.

For almost 2 years, Kiefer and I looked at houses. We put offers in on several, and one offer after another was outbid. Rejection again and again.

But…finally…we found a cute house; they accepted our offer, and we got the keys last night.

I’m happy to report this house  has 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Two bathrooms! After the house was officially ours, the first words out of my mouth were: “I have to pee…in my bathroom.”

A kid-free bathroom. It was heaven. Then…this happened:

Thoughtsy: KIEFER! Help! I’m trapped in the bathroom. The door is stuck. Let me out!

Kiefer: Bwahaha! That’s funny. Open the door.

Thoughtsy: I can’t.

Kiefer: Did you lock it?

Thoughtsy: No.

Kiefer: Are you sure?

Thoughtsy: No….

And that’s how we got the first item on our new house’s  To-Do List. I can’t believe the new bathroom turned on me like that. Jerk…. If I suddenly stop blogging, you’ll know where I am. Send help.

Finally…Everything seems to be coming together.

Proposal? Check.

Wedding? Almost checked.

House with more than one bathroom? Check.

Baby? Hopefully soon to be checked.

See This Wedding Dress? It Means I Can’t Date You

On my way home from picking up my wedding dress, a truck pulled up next to me at a traffic light. The window was rolled down…and it was raining.

At the next light, I got impatient and let my car inch forward. They did the same.

I inched forward even more, and they did, too. I knew exactly where this was headed.

Hopefully, the next light would be green, and I could zoom off into the sunset.

The light was red.

Son of a….

Guy in Truck: My buddy wants your phone number.

Seriously?

Do you or do you not see the wedding dress in the passenger seat?

I know you saw the dress because it’s flippin’ huge.*

Le sigh.

Has anyone actually married someone they met at a traffic light? What about dated? Is that what the kids are doing these days? What happened to online dating?

*That is NOT my dress.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “For the crime of arachnacide you should get all the years in prison. All of them.”—Daile