Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Chocolate Spiral

I am a glutant. I am ashamed. I am terribly weak and it's all Alex's fault.

Alex's office decided to bring in cake and present a Target gift card to him today at work in prep. for Ben's arrival. It was a very, very, very sweet thing to do for us and we are terribly greatful. The Target card will buy one of many diaper packages we'll be using this Summer.

But the problem with this kind gesture is the cake. I love cake. But I cannot have cake! But I ate cake...actually, I dug into what was left over of the cake with my fork like some crack addict on a binge.

I'm positive the synapses in my brain became excited the second my eyes saw the cake Alex walked into the house with....now mind you, it was not his idea to bring the cake home. I'd asked him to bring me back a slice....A SLICE! But in walks Alex with half a cake! What is a girl supposed to do?

While he was walking over to the kitchen counter to set the cake down I'd already begun to imagine what the frosting would taste like....chocolate frosting, the sickeningly sweet smell of thick, gooey chocolate frosting sitting atop the chocolate and vanilla cake - yes, it was calling out to me, I recognized the familiar sound of chocolatey goodness calling out to me.

Immediately I began to think about when I would steal a ginormous portion of this cake without Jack or Alex catching me in the act. Luckily, it was Jack's bath night. Yes, I would indulge, become the glutant I'd been forced to hide for the past three weeks due to my GD while Alex was bathing Jack.

So what the heck was Alex waiting for? Why wasn't he taking Jack into the bath? Cold sweat began forming down my back. It was all I could do to feign interest in whatever the heck Alex was saying to me at that moment. In fact, I do not recall exactly what happened after he walked in with the cake to when he and Jack disappeared behind the bathroom door for the bath. It's all a blur.

Jack walked back and forth with his choo-choo, babbling something about Gordon and a doggy. Why was this dirty kid still out here trying to hold a conversation with me when there was cake to be had?

Finally, an Ah-Ha! moment. I thought of a way to get the two of them out of my way.

"Jack's diaper is full, so we need to change him now and put him in shorts, or just take it off and get him ready for his bath." I said as calmly as possible.

"Okay...you heard mommy, it's bath time!"

I'm sure Alex knew all along what I was up to, he knows me too well. The two of them eventually headed into the bathroom and I was left alone with THE CAKE.

At first, despite my desire, I took the smallest bit of cake, taking care not to have too much frosting on it if you can believe that. I mean there I was, I'd waited an agonizing 20 minutes before I was all alone with the cake and all I can do is take a tiny bite? But that's what I did. I must have believed I have super human powers or something.

Once the tiny bite entered my mouth there was no turning back. It was like eating Cool Whip all your life and one day you are served real whipped cream, fresh whipped cream, straight from the mixer, creamy and thick, so smooth and buttery.

My taste buds jumped for joy, my stomach cried out for more. I knew I shouldn't, but I did...I DIG into the center of the cake and rake out a gigantic mouthful of cake. I shove all of it in my mouth. I'm not even sure at this point where I am or who I am. I am just in love with this cake.

Well, I've already ruined my blood sugar level, there's no going back now, so I dig in for another mouthful of cake, then another, then another, then another. Whatever heaven was, this had to be it (or hell for doing something so bad that felt so good). Oh glorious chocolate! If I'd had a pitch fork I'd have used it to shove the entire thing in my big fat face.

Alas, as with all good things, even chocolate must come to an end. Mine came to an end when my legs started cramping up - this happens when I've been standing still in one position too long. Also, Ben started kicking me. And like that, as if waking from a beautiful dream my eye lids fluttered, the fork still in my mouth, and my hand still clutching the side of my cake platter.

It was nice for a while, but now I had to stop. My thoughts raced back to Ben and how his health must come first before chocolate. I put the fork down, released the cake platter and resumed making Jack's dinner.

I heard the bathroom door open and out walked Alex and Jack from the bath.

Hello, my name is Taylor, and I'm a chocoholic.

Cat Naps

I have begun to fall asleep on the couch promptly at 7:30pm these past few nights. Then I wake up around 9pm to find the the kitchen table cleared of dinner, the sink empty of dirty dishes, and Jack toys neatly piled/put away. I guess this is what Alex does while I'm napping.

The other day he mentioned that I started snoring. Yes, I can believe that. Pregnancy makes your nose congested, and being in the late late stage of pregnancy now, I'm more fatigued than ever, so snoring would be a natural thing to do.

Tonight, I woke up to the sound of screaming in the middle of my nap. Alex was indulging in his zombie fettish by watching 28 weeks later. Sigh. I have no idea why zombie movies appeal to him, but he's been working so hard around the house, at work, and just looking after Jack lately that I could not ask him to change the channel.

I have been cranky, grouchy, mean, and moody lately....even more so than usual. I don't know how much longer Alex will tolerate this.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Baby Update

Still no baby....but I'm being warned by my doctor's office that it could be any day now. I am officially 37 weeks, which means I am official considered full term. This means Ben is fully developed and will have no trouble breathing and being on his own if he were to be born from this point on.

And I really wish he would come out soon. I am getting bigger and heavier by the minute it seems.

Yesterday we had a very nice warm day and my ankles swelled up to the size of small oranges. It was uncomfortable to say the least. I see people looking at me like, 'Oh my gosh, when are you due? You poor thing, you must be so uncomfortable!' and at first I appreciate their sympothy...then the reality of how big I must seem sets in. Wow, so I must look like a blimp.

A well meaning Taco Bell drive up employee recently commented on how big I was. I don't think she had any clue in ettiquettes or the what the scowl on my face meant as she kept mentioning how big I was. I wanted to deck her! I wanted to say things I could not say in front of the Fudge.

Of course Alex knew exactly what I was thinking and felt because the minute the Taco Bell girl opened her mouth he turned right to me with a question on his face...."so are you going to kill her? And if so, how? Just let me know so I can get out of your way."

I can't help that Alex was the size of a 4 month old baby the day he was born (he was over 9 pounds - my poor, poor mother-in-law!). I can't help that I am vertically challenged.

I look like a pregnant tomoato on toothpicks. And to make things worse, I cannot even eat the things I want which most women take for granted in late pregnancy. I have this stupid GD to deal with.

Sitting is not comfortable for me any more. The sheer weight of Ben is cutting off circulation to my legs. I must recline, or lay side ways to get relief....then I fall asleep.

I am almost 3cm dilated, and the baby's head has dropped considerably. I think my body can sense the closeness of Ben's arrival. I want to take 10 cat naps a day and don't really have the energy to do much else. The pain in my pelvis makes walking, sitting, standing, or even turning over in my bed painful/uncomfortable.

This is the last one. If I have another one, the chances of developing GD rises considerably. Also, I am too damn old to go through this again. This is the last one. So unless we win the lotto or Alex lands a gig as a highly compensated corporate executive and I can stay at home and hire a nanny to watch the kids and serve me, I am not doing this again.

I've heard the 3rd one throws parents over the edge....well of course it does....you're out numbered by the time you have three! It's a numbers game. Duh.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Forgetful Jones

Wow, can I just say that I almost created the worst kind of drama for myself today? It was a mistake of such grandness and idiocy that if I were Alex I would have sent me straight to to the 'Dumbest Person Alive' hall of fame.

I'm not sure if the mistake happened because I've got water on the brain or just because I felt so flustered and out of control yesterday. All I know is that I've reached an all time level of short attention/memory span.

We had new flooring put in last night. The house as you can imagine was in disarray - in fact, it still needs finishing up.

We'd hoped by the time Alex had picked up Jack from daycare and returned home the flooring guys would be done. This was not the case. They were still working on our bedroom when Alex came home with the Fudge.

Not wanting any injuries and needless interference, I took Jack over to my sister's house while the guys finished up the bedroom.

The minute I drove into Wany's driveway I realized I had not brought Jack's diaper bag. I panic. I am angry. Why can't Alex remember everything FOR me? Jeez!

But the diaper bag wasn't the mistake I post about. The missing diaper bag is nothing compared to what I did when Jack and I returned home.

Per usual, Jack fell asleep in the car on the ride home. When I drove up to the driveway, he was sound asleep, so I decided to try my best to transport him from the car to his crib as quietly as possible.

It didn't work. As soon as I opened his side of the car door he opened his eyes and was more than half awake. Despite his alertness, I grabbed him quickly from the car seat and carried him into the house.

As soon as Jack saw the transformation of the house he didn't even remember he was asleep just a few minutes ago. He wanted to explore and quite frankly, so did I. I checked out the finished bedroom and kitchen and inside the closets.

Now if you've been keeping up with Jack's blog, you know that I have recently been diagnosed with gestational diabetes. Primarily, this means I get to eat meat and veggies only for the remainder of my pregnancy - no sweets what so ever. And I also have to test my blood sugar 4 times a day, once in the morning before I eat, and 2 hours after breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I could not locate my blood sugar tester this morning. Then I remembered it was in my purse. Where the heck was my purse? Oh, I left it in the car...the unlocked car...THE CAR I LEFT RUNNING SINCE LAST NIGHT! (place Psycho theme here)

Alex quickly ran out to the car. The gas had run out (I had less than a quarter of a tank left when I got home the night before) and the battery had died. Alex said it was making a funny clicking noise. Alex also said other things which made me afraid I had killed the car.

What had I done? Woe is me! Was I insane? How could I have forgotten the car the was left on?! What kind of idiot leaves the car on, unlocked with her purse inside it? Someone could have stolen the purse, the car, come into the house and burglarized us if they wanted to! I could have killed the car and Jack and Ben would have to ride in a red wagon while mom or dad pushed to daycare instead of being comfortably seated in the minivan, buckled up nice and safe.

Even Jack looked at me with eyes that clearly asked, "what in the world were you thinking, Mom? How could you forget? Even I know you turn the car off when you're not using it." Then he took another spoonful of his oatmeal.

Fortunately, with a little gas and a jump from the Avalon, the van was back to normal and running well.

I had to have Alex repeat at least 4 times what I was supposed to do after her left for work...."leave it running for 20-25 minutes....then turn the car off and on again. If that works, take the car to a gas station and fill up....then take it for a short trip somewhere to keep it running."

I would not have been as calm or gracious as Alex was to me. I would have bitten his head off after screaming all sorts of profanities at him. But I guess that is why I'm married to him...to remind me every so often that even the 'better' half (as I'd like to think of myslef) makes terrible mistakes.