I’ll Be Here
My friend Kathleen killed me the other day when she likened checking my blog every morning to Ben Affleck’s character in Good Will Hunting — while she’s happy to see me, every morning she hopes I won’t be here because it’ll mean I’ve had the baby. Or you know, gone to California to follow my dream to be a successful hipster mathematician and a life with Minnie Driver, but whatever! Baby, Minnie — it’s all the same. You know, she’s Ben and I’m Matt and … of course you get it.
I’m still here, obviously. Sorry, Kath. And it’s largely why I’m writing, because though I have little to say, if I don’t say something, I get 5,000 phone calls of, “ZOMG SHE’S HERE AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME.”
No, dudes. I would TOTALLY tell you. I promise. And if not, you can check my husband’s Twitter feed or, better yet, Tehbaby‘s, because though I have no plans to live-ANYTHING the birth and will not be bringing my laptop with me to the hospital so you can be updated hourly on the status of my girly bits and the girl who’s coming out of them.
And because I am somewhat bored with all this WAITING, and look, I know I’m supposed to enjoy it, but really, daytime TV gets old, the house is organized and hey, do you guys want to eat off of my floor? Because I’m about to STEAM CLEAN IT out of desperation. And yet I’m afraid to GO ANYWHERE because I have to pee every .009 seconds and … well, whatever. You know. Alas, I can’t even concentrate long enough on a book, so there goes that. Sad.
So! A random list of bulleted whatevers!
- Is there a more compelling tune out there than the McDonald’s Filet O Fish song? No.
- My brother called my cell phone yesterday and after a series of questions and apologies for catching me while I was driving, I had to confess that actually, I wasn’t driving but was sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store stuffing a brownie in my mouth because I couldn’t wait the FIVE MINUTES it would take to drive home. So uh, sure, now is a good time to talk as any. Have brownie, will relax.
- Speaking of phone calls, there are few things worse than calling my friends and family and hearing their voices rise in near-hysterical excitement, only to hear them fall desperately when I explain that no, um, I’m SO SORRY, but do you know, uh, how much sugar I need for the pizzelle recipe? My mother is the worst with this. I swear, every single phone call is answered in a near-breathless voice, “HHHEEELOOO!?” I love her, but have officially begun avoiding speaking with her, because I just continually DISAPPOINT her. It’s like my teenage years all over again.
- I’ve been watching a bit too much A Baby Story, which is not doing any good at all, and in fact, is doing nothing but alternately scaring me and pissing me off beyond all reason. The fear is deliberate, as half the commercial breaks end dramatically as they intone, “Will Celine and her baby survive her C-section?” As if TLC would let us all unwittingly watch a DEATH, and yet … I find myself wondering and waiting all breathless for the damn conclusion and inevitably healthy baby.
But the fury. OH, THE FURY. For example, there are people’s MOTHERS and SISTERS who actually try to convince the birthing mother that she shouldn’t get an epidural because it’s dangerous and awful and bad for the baby and how dare she! Then they try to make her feel GUILTY. And I’m all, LADIES. THIS IS NOT YOUR BABY. And also? SHUT UP. PUSH YOUR OWN BABY OUT YOUR VAGINA THE WAY YOU WANT TO, BUT THIS IS HER VAGINA.
- After the consumption of a gigantor burrito, I ended up with an upset stomach, which resulted in a bit of excitement and hysteria on the part of my husband, leaving me to convince him that NO, SERIOUSLY DUDE. JUST GAS. He had a similar reaction this afternoon when I IM’d him some good news from our insurance agent and HOO BOY, the man is On Edge. So the drive to the hospital should be Teh Awesome.
Further evidence: Adam just yelled, pretty much out of nowhere: “CAN’T YOU AT LEAST HAVE A BRAXTON-HICKS OR SOMETHING?”
We win at Patience.
Happy Friday! And weekend! And due date! HA HA.
*Reindeer Section
54 comments March 5th, 2009