Detour

Things we may have difficulty explaining to "Baby It"...

Your dad thinks he is Captain Christmas.

Your parents saran wrap blow up dolls in people's cars.

Your auntie Tara wears lamp shades.

Your grandma pub crawls on a 1965 Triumph.


Your mom is in a folk band.

Your mom stuffs her bra with tennis balls and shoots fake tennis team photos in Capitol Park.

Your dad is OBSESSED with the Dodgers and will make you wear a Dodger's uniform and love Chavez Ravine.

Your mom is also obsessed with something...horses.

Your dad wears fuschia wigs while coddling toy dog breeds.

Your mom religiously celebrates the birthday of her favorite liquid.

Your dad likes to wear his cake.


So does your mom...

Your dad holds the local Pogo hop championship.

In a nutshell, your parents are weird. Good luck to you with your wacky name and even wackier gene pool.

The Clark Clinic Guide to a Delirious Pregnancy (Month 3)

It's interesting reading the material designed for pregnant moms. It makes me want to interpret some of the "gentle" ways they break news to you or inform you of changes in you and your little sperm worm.

For instance, when I read "The embryonic tail at the bottom of your baby's spinal cord is shrinking and disappearing, and the face is more rounded" I think, "Thank god...Sigourney Weaver was one unlucky broad". "

Your baby's head is quite large compared with the rest of the body" translates to "HAVE YOU SEEN THE SIZE OF CLARKY'S HEAD? He wears a 7 and 7/8 size hat for crimeny sakes!" (Really though, if the baby's head is even close to the size of Clarky's shiny dome, I am in SERIOUS birthing trouble).

"Your baby's anus has formed" translates to "Hahaha...my kid is a shithead already and it's not even out yet!"

Phrases associated with MY body...

HCG is working to give you that pregnant GLOW. (I'm wearing too much bronzer.)

Greater blood volume is resulting in slightly flushed and plump skin. (Thank you grilled stuffed burritos no meat.)

Your heart is continuing to pump harder. (Is this why it's harder now to run up the stairs than when I was at a pack a day???)

You may begin to have slightly blurred vision. (This should've been a label on my Absolut bottles.)

You'll continue to feel the need to urinate more frequently (DAMN the 18 stairs down to the only bathroom in the house. Confession: I have not always used the actual toilet. Use your imagination. Convenience is key. And desperation calls for desperate measures. I think I said that wrong.)

You'll probably have gained about 2 pounds by the end of your 12th week of pregnancy. (HAHAHAHA....AHAHAHAHA.....by week 9 I am up, well, more than 2 pounds. That's all I have to say about that.)

You may be preoccupied with the physical changes occurring in your body. (I love my boobs...keep growing please!!!!!)

You may feel fat and unattractive. (Oh, ok...no need to sugarcoat things there Mayo Clinic.) Sometimes I wish I didn't know how to read. That is just something you can not temporarily undo.

Well here is the little big headed 9 week old upside down amphibian. When I asked my OB what the circle was to the left of the baby...she said it was a yolk sac. A yolk sac? I guess I am a hen now. Clarky surely thinks he is a rooster so if the feathers fit I guess...

Side note: Yesterday I gave 7 viles of blood...7 !!!!!! I did feel lightheaded and dizzy and enjoyed it very much. It was the closest I've been to a buzz in a month.

PVE (otherwise known as protected vaginal entry)

Warning! This entry may not be appropriate for sensitive viewers. Yes, mom, I know it's a little "raw" but how the hell else do we expect I got knocked up in the first place?

I know, I know the last word one wants to read about is the vagina...especially mine, but bear with me for this particular rant. As this is my first experience with the double line, I was not prepared for my visit to the OBGYN, previously known to women lacking children as the gynecologist. For some reason the OB sounds WAY cooler than the GYNO so I was immediately proud that I was in the waiting room waiting for a heartbeat and a sonogram versus an annual cotton swab scraping petri dish culture (more on that later...I know...you can't wait). Nonetheless, laying on the 500 count crunchy paper sheet draped in a paper towel waiting for my miracle maternity matron to show me something I have never seen was still pretty exciting. What really threw me for a loop, however, was when she pulled out a giant white dildo and sheathed it in a condom immediately smothering the tip in KY and dimmed the lights. WTF??? Seriously??? Under all other circumstances, this would have seemed highly erotic but this was simply out of my mental grasp. I mean I know we all have a job to do but to make it practically mirror how conception occurs in the first place (obviously minus the plastic "part" and the prophylactic) seemed a bit serendipitous. I decided to suck it up and enjoy the ride so to speak. That is until I saw the dildo's purpose.

To the untrained eye, and perhaps even the trained one, this view into the center of my well, center, showed the above. It looked to me as if I had a hole in my...something....and that maybe there was a, um, a...skin tag or something attached. Apparently the baby frog is my child. Isn't it darling! I see it now!!! I see it ! It looks...like NOTHING! Apparently at 6 weeks, it resembles a flat faced alien with a tail, so for the time being, I prefer to call it my little frog, thank you very much.

After consulting my pregnancy library which includes but is not limited to the following titles...

Pregnancy Essentials
The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy
My Boys Can Swim (by men, for men and hysterical)
What to Expect When You're Expecting and
Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy

...I found out that the little frog is only 1/8 of an inch long! REALLY, I think to myself. That's funny because my stomach could just as easily fit something 4000 times that size! What the heck have I been eating all those burritos for? To house the tip of a needle? To provide way too much square feet for the tiniest tenant in town? That's like, as Tara would put it backwards, placing a lawn chair on the Titanic!