I don't get all this outrage against the new Motrin ad campaign by mothers who think it is demeaning that they might possibly have neck or get back pain from carrying their infant in a sling/wrap/etc.... What is so offensive about the ad? Hint: stop taking yourself so serious. I think I might boycott Motrin just for pulling the ad after the recent uproar. I can be stupid too!

An angry bored mother

Funny

Standing over the trash can with a handful of panties I brought home from the hospital in one hand, I dedicate this haiku:

Large, white, mesh breathing comfort

You hit my navel

So sexy, I wore you out

Oh, Chubby Checker... there are three reasons your tune is the one I dedicate to today's pregnancy status. Being that I am two days past my due date, Chubby just seems to be a perfect musician for me to channel today. That and the fact that I just came home from a walk-walk-waddle around the lake, having decided that as long as I keep moving, the baby will be encouraged to dislodge himself from his cozy abode in my belly. Hopefully, while I was on my hour walk (which usually takes closer to 30 mins), my little boy was twisting his way down, inching closer to his big debut. 

The third reason Chubby's Twist is the song of the day is that I was hit with a sugar attack on my drive home from the lake, and being a rare sunny day in late October in the Pacific Northwest, I decided this must be an "Indian Summer", which of course calls for an ice cream cone. So, I pulled into Tulley's, ordered a vanilla bean and chocolate twist in a cone. I had to repeat myself three times, obviously the dipstick working the drive-thru isn't accustomed to customers ordering ice cream in the midst of Fall. 

"C'mon, twist again, twisting time is here..." 

When I initially saw Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire at 9 weeks pregnant, he told me that by the calendar (the date of my last period), my due date was yesterday, Oct 15th. When I had my 20 week ultrasound, the baby's head, femur and other leading indicator body parts estimated his birth date at Oct 20th. Dr. Z decided to stick with the earlier due date because of my active lifestyle, my stubborn disposition may have had something to do with it as well.

Now that Oct 15th has come and gone, I am looking at Oct 20th, and perhaps later. I don't have any physical indication that the baby will be coming in the next few days. My water hasn't broken, I'm still feeling really good. Its a bit more difficult to bend over to put pots and pans away, or to get off the couch, but honestly I was more physically exhausted three or so weeks ago than I am now. I am sleeping much better and this has me perplexed. To get this far, and have no idea when this child will first send me into a hurricane of pain before making his arrival makes this tale of two due dates yet another one of the woes of pregnancy that nobody told me about.

Since I found out I was pregnant on Valentines Day, I've earmarked October 15th as the due date, I've told countless friends and relatives, I arranged for my maternity leave to begin based on that date...only to find out once the day approached that perhaps Oct 20th is more realistic. That's like telling a half marathon runner that they took a wrong turn, and they are actually on the full 26.2 mile marathon route...and its raining, and they have blisters and diarrhea has set in.

That half marathon runner better be compensated with the oversized race t-shirt and cheesy medal bragging that they finished the FULL race. I haven't thought of what my conciliatory prize should be for sticking this pregnancy out another week...but I'm thinking it belongs in the "medal/natural stone" family. Perhaps the confusion of two due dates is the orgin of the push gift. Hint, hint, hubby my ring size is still a 6, don't let my pregnancy bloated digits fool you.

There's an effort to elect an unknown random person as President... and it's someone we know! Watch this online video about the surprising new nominee:

I am not the type to relieve myself in public, and often make a stink (and a pun) when someone around me blows air. Its just not right, some things should be intentionally kept to yourself. That is unless you are 9 1/2 months pregnant and you have no idea if you have a queue of gas in your ass waiting to be released. I was in Hallmark this weekend looking for, well, of all things, a card, and experienced a sure fire sign that I have lost my sense of humility and composure.

I was flanked by people on either side of me, who were also looking for Halloween cards and without any warning *TOOT* comes from my caboose. I stood there unapologetic, I didn't excuse myself (i.e. acknowledge the situation), I didn't blush or become the least bit embarrassed. I wanted to shout out "if I knew it was there, I would have held it, but I have 30 lbs of weight bearing down on that region of my body and so cut me some slack, lest I cut another one, pee my pants or have my water break on your shoes."

Nine days to go until baby is due. Until then I will continue to be a bag of pregnancy tricks...trick or treat, smell my feet, run around the toilet seat!  

I have 12 days to go until my due date...and if one more person tells me that as a first time mom, I should expect to carry this man child late I will blow a gasket. Over the last three or so weeks I have been scheduling every appointment I can think of so I have less errands to run with a newborn. I sat down and made the following list:

• get my hair cut & colored (top priority, of course)
• regualr mani/pedis (got to have pretty nails while stripped down naked in front of the hospital staff)
• visit the dentist (what a drag)
• oil change for the car
• rotate tires on the car
• replace air filters in the furnace
• stock freezer with food
• groom Murph Dog (I decided to try grooming him myself...I am going with the mantra that maybe the third time will be the charm)
• clean the carpets
• buy new running shoes (can't wait to run again)
• visit the optometrist (I was advised to wait for a couple months after delivery, as pregnancy hormones can affect your eyesight).  

Finally, the most important errand I need to run is to shop for a Halloween costume for the little guy. He'll only be a couple weeks old, but the neighbors have already asked us to bring him around. I'm thinking a baby Batman costume and Murph Dog can dress up as Boy Wonder. Jeez, I wish I could sew!

Yup, you heard it here first. BabyCrunch sucks according to one of my pals. This buddy of mine randomly throws out his bits of wisdom as nonchalantly as any guy would say, "American Idol" and/or "Dancing with Stars sucks". With the later I would agree, without inquiry in to why but in this case I had to ask why he thought BabyCrunch sucked. Of course this statement is coming from a single guy whose life consists mainly of going to work, playing Xbox and trying to convince me to tag along with him on the weekend to singles bars and of course watching him strike out on chicks. He may not be in our readers demographics by I really wanted him to tell me why our site sucked.

His top 10 reasons are:

1. I don't get it
   Is that a question or a statement? It's quite simple, Big Mamma (the wife/co-author) likes to write and I'm (me=Dad2B) a web developer. We thought doing a blog together would be a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Unfortunately we couldn't come up with a general theme that we could agree upon until Big Mamma got knocked up. She has the perspective of being pregnant and I have my own so why not share both on our suck-worthy blog. Pretty simple.
2. You're titles suck (the same ole adjective)
   Really? I thought some of them were pretty clever and accurate
   • Reuniting With My Boobs (classic title)
   • I am a Walrus (not quite yet)
   • Hot Yoga Farts (it happens)
   • Cranky & Crafty (yup, she is)
   • Is It Baby or Bowels? (it could be both)
   • A “Pee-Stick” speaks a thousand words (duh)
   • So Meaty: How not to raise your children (reference joke)
   • Breast feeding gone wrong (not the greatest title but anything about breasts is a good title)
   • Pin the pee-pee on the baby (ouch)
   • Holy-Baby-Turds: Elimination Communication (no comment)
3. You don't say anything on the "About Us" page
   Of course we do but it's short and sweet. Actually Big Mamma has never inquired in to this. For me, well lets say, I'm a bit hesitant to reveal my identity to strangers (that's you). In truth, I haven't thought of anything clever to say. Maybe I should just post this post under "About Us."
4. Who's Big Mamma and who's Dad2B
   BigMamma = wife, temporary 9 month host, and impending mother. By the way BM is not really big she just likes the name Big Momma. I think the name makes her giggle.
   Dad2B = me, guy, sperm donor, dad to be (clever) and neurotic in keeping his identity a secret
5. You use fragmented, incomplete sentences and misspell words
   Hey, I'm an art major and I don't really care if my sentence structure sucks and my spelling is horrific. I probably won't even proof read or spell check this post. By the way, no one probably reads our blog...remember it "sucks!"
6. Nobody besides impending grandparents care to see your ultrasound photos
   You might be right on this point. But did you see the size of that thang? Wholly-COW!!!
7. You're humor articles are not that funny
   Yes they are! you just don't have a sense of humor. My article about Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire is brilliantly funny.
8. Who would buy anything off your storefront?
   My wife would. You should see all the new baby crap we have acquired through Big Mamma's individual purchases and/or through her baby showers. I think we have some cool stuff on our storefront and it's guaranteed by Amazon. Wait a minute, have you seen our custom gear? Very popular among single men. How come you don't have one?
9. Who cares about Murphy?
   He is our test child. The wife wanted a baby so we compromised with a dog. I didn't really want a dog and was very hesitant about getting one because I knew it would be a big responsibility and would possibly cause problems to a lifestyle that I was accustomed to. Boy was I wrong, I couldn't adore anything more. Getting a dog before having kids is a great idea in my book. It's extremely good practice for things to come. Since he is our first-born, he just seems natural to include him in our posts. If you don't like Murphy then we don't like you!
10. Who would read your blog?
    He must have since he was able to come up with ten reasons. Beside trying to keep family and friends up-to-date of our current status maybe some one like myself who was never really ga-ga over babies for the majority of his life and is now waiting hesitantly for the wife to pop. Or maybe some one like my wife who wanted a way to creatively document the experiences she is going through and share with others who are going through similar things during the course of a pregnancy. The site is about two different perspectives (man/woman) during the pregnancy and birth of their first child.

There you have it, ten reasons why BabyCrunch.com sucks according my friend. Do you agree?

My increasingly bulbous belly and strategically concentrated mask of pregnancy above my lip in a phony mustache fashion has led to me to suggest The Walrus, by the Beatles as today's sexy pregnancy side effect tune. As I listen to this song, I am tempted to clap my hands together like a walrus, since my hands have fallen asleep again and are tingling with numbness, but I don't want the dog to look down his nose at me in ashamed embarrassment.

Three weeks to go! Until then...I am the Eggman, I am the Eggman, I am the Walrus. Coo coo ka choo.  

Last week when I weighed in at my Dr. appt I was three pounds shy of my hubby's weight. Since then he's been to the gym every day, and I've polished off a tub of vanilla bean ice cream, a jar of peanut butter and a bag of gummy fruit (by the way, the end of a pregnancy timed with copious Halloween candy at every store is an example of how cruel the world can be sometimes).

I am going in for my weekly appointment with my OB today, and am prepared to tip the scale even closer toward my tall and skinny husband. I considered this last night while making dinner and decided not to drain the fat from the pot roast before adding the meat to the crock pot. I figured that alone would add 100 calories or so to his skinny butt. Of course, I consumed the same extra calories, I guess I wasn't really thinking my plan through very well.

Little pig, little pig, let me in, not by the hair of one of my three chins...