Here I Go Again On My Own

      I thought that when I became pregnant, life would suddenly make much more sense. That things would magically fall into place and it would be like a light that switched on. Instead, I am dealing with a load of "eous." More on that in a minute. I have romanticized being pregnant because for so long I have wanted nothing more. I am thrilled to be at this point, and I am not complaining that I am pregnant. I am merely stating the things I didn't know. I am pretty sure there is a motherhood club out there, where they have discussed all these things. Then, they all get up and push their strollers home and vow never to tell mother's to be about anything spoken in that room. Or, maybe they are so busy they just forgot to mention it.

      On a side note, I was recently scarred. Do NOT tell anyone. I own a pair of knock off Crocs. (Which, in reality, is WORSE than owning an actual pair.) I know what they are. I know how tacky they are. I hate myself a little bit every time I put them on. In the process of moving I was wearing the crocs to clean out the house and whatnot. All my other belongings got packed up. So, for 3 days after I moved out of that house the only shoe options I had were stilletos, and crocs. For 3 days I walked around looking like an idiot. They aren't just black crocs either, they are barbie doll pink. While I am no fashionista, I would like to think that I don't partake in too many faux pas. Crocs are to fashion as clubbing baby seals is to PETA. I am that girl right now. Today, I am going to take the first step to a new "hipster Mom persona." I am going to throw the dead baby seals away.

       Back to the "eous." Lately, I have been feeling at least 3 "eous." Nauseous, gaseous, anxious, and crankereous. For the sake of the English language, we will go with cantankerous. I know they aren't all eous. I am writing this. But, it's my blog. I can make spelling mistakes and terms up as I go, because I am wild and I live life on the edge. I think that my biggest adjustment is trying to have that "new pregnancy glow," when all I really feel like doing is eating pudding and telling everyone to go F themselves. I don't feel pretty. I feel bloated, and gas filled. I am extremely tired ALL OF THE TIME. I feel like I just got over the flu and the "back to normal" feeling is nowhere near me on the horizon.

       Since there isn't much I can do about my physical state, let's move on to more important things. What I will wear as a Mom, and what I will wear when at school functions. I remember when I was in elementary school. I was in Stiffany Schmockman's (a fake name was used to protect their real identity) class every year. Stiffany came in every fall with a fresh apple blossom perm (if you are younger than 28 please google.) This perm would have the very tight curls that allowed it to be teased to twice her own 8 year old height. I always thought her hair was cool and weird all the once. She looked ridiculous on the play ground. She was a mini-vixen from a White Snake video, and there she was playing red rover. Her hair always appeared to have a fan blowing on it. It was pretty much all I remember from elementary school...except for Stiffany's mother. Cue music: "Here I Go Again On My Own" by Whitesnake. 4th grade Thanksgiving party. Sitffany's mom came walking in. She was wearing snake skin leather pants, and a corset. Her hair was teased to the ceiling. She must have just gotten off work shooting the latest Poison video. We were all dressed up as settlers and Native Americans. Stiffany had to be a Native American, because she couldn't fit her bangs inside a pilgrim hat. She wore a head band instead, around her forehead. It created the appearance of butt cleavage around the perimeter of her head. I am going to try really hard not to be "that mom." She is forever etched in my brain as the the Mom that clearly couldn't let go. Now, I must try to find a happy medium between leather pants, and Crocs. This is such a confusing time. Such a confusing time.