My Very Own Pregnancy Pact

I went to high school with this girl but she and I were not in the same social group. Honestly I thought she was a little bit annoying because she farts sunshine and puppies or something and that’s just not normal. Anyway, Sunshine Ass (SA) got married like a year after graduation to this kid who thinks he’s Brad Pitt but looks more like Mickey Rourke with a stank eye. Seriously, every time he smiles one eye is open but the other is squinting like it’s sunny out. Maybe that’s from all the sunshine coming out of his wife’s ass.

She’s pregnant. Guess how far along she is? 28 weeks, 2 days, the same as me, down to the day. She probably got pregnant just to bother me and so she thinks we’re pregnancy buddies or something. She wants to know when Jordan and I are going to prenatal classes and whether or not we knew the sex of the baby or a name yet. And she keeps bothering me to post a “bump picture” on the internet so she can see. Umm, we’re not friends SA.

High school friend Stube (like stub with an e on the end) lets me bitch about her every time we talk. Like when SA and I we’re 18 weeks pregnant and she posted a pictures on FB of her belly. I wasn’t even starting to show and here’s Sunshine Ass looking like she’s 7 months pregnant. Listen SA, this is your first baby and you baby is still the size of a mango or some crap, so I know you’re just overeating and trying to blame it on the baby.

OMG Giveaway

I started an Etsy shop and it is a total FAIL. I sold three things to someone who lives like 30 minutes from me who probably knows me and felt bad for me. The hubs totally makes fun of me for spending hours manipulating tiny pieces of ribbon and sporting numerous blisters from that tricky glue gun with (almost) nothing to show for it. Then I had this crazy thought it might help if people knew that my little shop existed.

I’ve been obsessed with reading OMG Mom’s blog since I’ve been fat/pregnant and since she has an Etsy shop, OMGBaby, I figured she’d be willing to help my sorry ass out. I asked her if she would be interested in hosting a giveaway on her blog so I can be cool and have friends too. She said yes and it was one of the best days ever. EVER. Today is the second best day since today is THE day. Go check it out and enter and then read her blog from the very beginning and you’ll poop. The good kind, where you’re laughing so hard, you just poop. Or pee if it suits you. Don’t judge.

P.S. – I’m using stat counter to monitor if anyone actually visits this site and there were 15 page loads yesterday! I was so excited I told J but he said they were probably all me so write me a comment so the Hubs doesn’t think I keep loading it myself because I have no friends. We’ll show him.

Where the eff is the Babysitter's Club?

Along with being convinced I’ll have an uggo baby, I’m worried about leaving my kid with our family. Not even just his family, the people in my family members shouldn’t be left alone with small children either. Or teenagers for that matter.

Truth? My mom is the only person I actually trust to deliver my child back to me alive and if my Stepdad’s around even she will be baby banned. A child almost drowned in a wading pool in his care, not to mention my cousin who touched a grill while D was 5 ft. away. My Dad was buzzed for most of my childhood and since leaving the (every other weekend) nest his drinking is reminiscent of a college drop out. Seriously, it’s embarrassing. The last time I tried to get some QT time in with my dear ole’ Dad he took some sort of medicine cabinet street drug from my loser stepsister and knocked over a cigarette tower because he was so drunk and/or high on Ritalin. This was right after mostly sober Jordan (who was assigned to watch him) almost tripped on a bunched up rug in the HOTEL LOBBY when my winner Father yells “Woooooooooooah!” like his son-in-law is the out of control drunk. He is not a candidate for watching his granddaughter.

Jordan’s Dad is a super great father even if he doesn’t like to show emotion and his Stepmom (Oh yeah, this is a HUGE family) is beyond excited about dressing Jilly in outfit after outfit because let’s face it, baby clothes are adorable and make me want to die of cuteness. They even bought her bassinet/travel crib so Jordan and I have no excuse not to let her sleep over since they bought the crib and all. They’re sneaky ones those two. J’s Mom is awesome if you’re over the age of 18, so she can watch Jillian then.

Seriously, you’ve got the run down on our options. Do you need any other their phone numbers for babysitting?

Racetrack Parenting

Bad news. The races we went to last night we’re overflowing with rednecks as much as our local race. Although, I didn’t want to leave you with no documentation as to how irresponsible rednecks can truly be.
I bet you’re thinking “Well how can those parents be irresponsible rednecks, they put the baby in ear protection? Shut up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Except that, during the same race, Mom finished her grit and decided to take them off so she could talk to the baby (you know, before he goes deaf) that way Dad could burn one. Nice.

This little turd spent the entire time kicking the seat while Dad was busy nursing his Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Not kidding, the ENTIRE time. I gave Jr there the stank eye no less than seven times and I wasn’t the only one dying to donkey punch him and his Dad. Oh and the kid stayed until the end..at 11:30 pm on a Thursday night but who am I kidding, if the baby stayed up that late, obviously this kid had a way later bedtime.

My Honky Tonk Life

Somehow I forgot to tell you about the wild night that was had this past Saturday. I'll blame almost forgetting it on the baby (Thanks again Jillian).

Jordan decided that he wanted to go to the races. Yes, you heard that right. Oh and our races aren't even like Nascar where the drivers are relatively good looking and the fans aren't complete gutter people.

Our races are on a dirt track so every time those cars whiz by you get another application of Honky Tonk "mineral makeup". Yum. And the fans! Oh the fans are the best, at least during my 4 hour torture session I can make fun of them. Like the guy who sat next to us who was AT LEAST an A-cup or my favorite lady who accessorizes her moth eaten Yale t-shirt (who are you kidding lady, you're missing teeth) with a bandanna that she probably got from a Bret Michael's concert...or a Rock of Love reunion. She's there every time in the same ensemble so I'll get a photo next time.

The first time we went this season I kept thinking about how I should post pictures and was going to bring a camera next time. Totally forgot. I even asked my sister-in-law who got drug or (drugged) out by Jordan's brother if she had a camera but she didn't or maybe she didn't want to encourage my bad habits. You're in luck though, Jordan remembered that there is another race about an hour and a half from us tomorrow night. Lucky. I'll bring the camera.

You didn't think that was it, did you? Oh no, my husband thought we should stop at one of the local bars ...with his pregnant wife. I felt ten kinds of cool.

You'll Tell Me, Right?

I have some ridiculous fears about having a baby. Like the fact that she might be reaaaally fugly and I won’t know it because I’m her mom. Hell, there’s even websites devoted to kids with ugly mugs. The worst part (I mean besides me knowing about these sites) is that most of those babies aren’t even ugly. Obvs I’m in trouble.

Even though I looked like a just-born kitten for my first few weeks of life I figured I was golden since Jordan was an undeniably cute baby. Hubs looked like a teeny tiny Sumo wrestler right outta the oven. No joke I’ll get a picture. He was 9lbs. 10oz. which scares me in itself but he also had jet black hair and looked like he should have born to a Chinese couple. The cute baby I remember from looking at old photo albums was 6 months old. 6 MONTHS. Crap.

A Nursery fit for a (Farm) Princess

Jillian’s nursery is friggen’ A.W.E.S.O.M.E. The whole theme stemmed from a photo I found somewhere on the internets of a shutter book holder. I wish I could find the photo but it was so random and I had been blog hopping/nursery stalking for the entire day, so no photo.

So remember that little bit about how I live in the middle of the country, like as in you can drive no more than a quarter mile in any direction and see a cow. Yeah, the country. Well I figured there was no better way than try get my little lady to get used to her little country life than to put it all over her walls. Farm theme was the ticket.

Jordan hated the idea at first but came around when he saw the opportunity to really use his skills to make the nursery come to life. See that fence, that’s real wood nailed to the wall. Those animals and tree? Yeah, totally me.

The baby armoire there? That used to be my Mom’s and it was in rough shape and in a hideous golden oak looking color. My crafty ass husband sanded and stained that beast and then replaced the hardware for me.

(Please ignore the THREE animals in the photo, I’m not ready to admit that I’m an animal hoarder just yet.)

And the shutters? In love with them. They actually aren’t even shutters (which turned out to be hella expensive) they’re closet doors. Hubs and I got them at a salvage home improvement store for $5 for both and he worked his magic once again. Viola, shutters!

This is the awesomeness that are Jillian’s closet doors. I wish you could see from the photo that the doors actually have a wood grain pattern on them. I came up with the barn door idea so don’t let the Hubs tell you any different, he just executed yet another slam dunk idea of mine.
This sign hangs above the closet doors and I made it. One of our wedding gifts was an old milk bottle from Jordan’s family farm from way back when so I thought I would be a trophy wife and incorporate the design and some of his family history into the room.

I am in lurve with this room and it would totally help if I had a baby to put in it. I’m such a lameass and we finished the room when I was only 5 months pregnant so now I have an epically long wait until Jillian can truly appreciate her room. Oh, babies don’t show appreciation? Crap.

Nice Try Babies 'R Us

To try to erase the shame of the Shrimp Incident I decided to start researching baby products. I was a Weddingbee addict when I was engaged…you know the leisurely time when I tossed the idea around of centerpieces before we planned (and got married) in 3 months. Anyway, a few months later Wedding introduced a new board – Nesting, where Bees who had married could chat about the new things in their lives like houses, pets and BABIES!

I love reading reviews and I’m also a huge cheap ass so not wasting our money is pretty important to me. I searched the internets for HOURS trying to find blogs and websites that would tell me whether or not I really needed that (probably stinky) Diaper Genie…and its expensive bags. For the record, no. The problem with this approach was that it was usually ONE person’s point of view so if Suzy raved about her Boppy pillow, no one made their point as to why it was a waste of your precious cash. That’s when Weddingbee saved my ass again with the Baby Products you Love (and Hate) post.

There’s nothing like getting multiple opinions and helpful advice about all that stuff Babies ‘R Us swears you need (but probably don’t). So I started my registries super early mostly so I had the benefit of even more customer reviews and it was way easier than trying to find “that piece of paper that I left somewhere, the one with the baby stuff on it”.

This was also around the time that I decided to a) breastfeed Jillian and b) make my own baby food.

Breastfeeding is super important to me because I’m cheap. Just kidding. A little bit. I really want our darling baby to be smart and healthy. If she gets a full ride to college and we save on co-pays for sick visits then so be it, not to mention formula is expensive.

I was scared into making my own baby food (More on this later) after reading this article about jarred baby food probably containing BPA in it I first-time-Mom freaked out and decided to save myself the worry and make my own baby food. And hey, if I save money by making sure little Jillybee isn’t eating food that has unnecessary fillers and too much salt, then so be it.

Bad Momma

After this little incident, I’m not entirely sure that I’m qualified for this Mom thing.

It all started in the prenatal coordinator’s office at our first “baby visit”. She had the best pregnancy visual aids EVER. My favorite was the one of the 3D uterus, you know the one where you can pop the baby out and look at its size and everything. The prenatal coordinator showed us the 8 week fetus and my first thought was that it looked like a tiny little shrimp…like on shrimp dip. And I sort of wanted to eat it.

It gets worse. Like a week later I made shrimp dip. Horrible I know. At least I only ate like 3 bites before I threw it away.

Don’t judge.

Mr. & Mrs.

Once upon a time a time a girl who wore jeans with a hole in the thigh because she thought it was cool met a boy with way too much hair because he was too busy working on cars to get a friggen’ haircut.

She invited him to sit next to her on an awful plaid couch in front of their friends and he said “No, that’s okay” in a Napoleon Dynamite voice because that’s how he used to talk. Seriously. Eventually the boy gave in and they fell in love.

(Don't act like you didn't use the mall booths too)

The boy thought buying and remodeling a house in the country sounded nice. The girl loved the boy and now she lives in the middle of nowhere.

(The boy and the girl mowed their lawn on the lowest setting and the grass died. More than once.)

The boy and the girl decided to get married…in two years or so. The girl found out that she was pregnant and they decided to get married a little bit sooner.

Now that they’ve adjusted to officially being husband and wife, they’re preparing to become Mom and Dad.