In the Saddle

Why do college kids smell so bad?

…Zach Braff annoyingness aside, I really still like the Garden State soundtrack.

Funny name story.

So when my mom was pregnant with my sister, my grandmother (her mother) was hounding my parents endlessly about the names — asking them their thoughts and expressing her disapproval at those choices. My parents were, rightfully, getting annoyed at the whole situation, so my dad decided to take it into his own hands.

The next time my grandmother called and asked about the name selection, my dad said, “you know, actually we have decided on a name for the baby! It’s really beautiful and we think you’ll really like it!”

My grandma was pleased and asked what it was.

“Vagina Ann!”

And she never asked the question again.

Take that Eddie Murphy song, “Party all the Time” and change the lyrics to “hungry all the time.”

Hungry all the time
Hungry all the time
Hungry all the tiiiime.

I just had to unbutton my second to last pair of “big” jeans.  I need to change out of them. Bye bye, jeans. See you in six months, maybe.

Sigh…This does not bode well for my wallet.

Well, I got up to do my now nightly pee (thanks, kid) and lo, couldn’t fall back asleep. My mind was racing in several different directions, so I employed my usual tactic of falling asleep: replaying a movie/tv show in my head verbatim. It sounds lame, but it’s my version of counting sheep.

So, last night, it was the scene in Breakfast Club where they’re all sitting on the floor and Claire does her lipstick trick and John is a jerk about it and blah blah blah. And then I went past it and was thinking of the end of the movie and when Claire goes into the storage closet with John.

So my question is…are we to believe that they did it in that storage closet? And Claire giving her diamond earring to John is symbolic of her giving her virginity, her purity, to him?

These are very very important questions.

Oh, and I did fall asleep, by the way. An hour later. So it kinda worked.

Jessa’s trying to shepherd me into the bedroom to go to sleep. It’s like she knows I’m exhausted and is trying to mama me.

She is the best dog ever.

I suppose it was wishful thinking to get through this pregnancy without my fair share of anxiety. I mean, I am, after all, me (and I don’t mean that in the Sigourney Weaver Working Girl way…).

I had a few weird body pains the other day. Long story short, this led to a call to my gastro doctor who didn’t want to take any chances and had me do an ultrasound of my abdomen (wonky liver stuff, weird vascular things, leave no pregnant stone unturned). That was yesterday morning, after what I thought was going to be a short little appointment. I ended up getting to work at about 2pm. Frazzled. Exhausted. Scared.

I should have seen the anxiety storm coming, what with the extended crying I’ve been doing and the general feeling of, holy shit, what if something goes wrong??? Add to that a possibly scary (but unlikely) reality and…yep…storming. Stormy storms stormin’ away.

It’s passing now and I feel more like myself, but hell if today wasn’t a mix of game face and hiding my teary eyes. And the awful, wretched feeling like I’d never ever climb out of it.

Sometimes I curse this mind of mine. One of my coworkers is also pregnant (due at the same time! Oops! Sorry, office!) and I don’t see her freaking out or having a tear-stained face (her skin is also perfection and I could just strangle her for it) (I don’t mean that). I mean, she could just be better at hiding it, but somehow I feel like I’m freaking out way more than she is, even though we’re literally at the same exact point in our pregnancies.

Anyway, how do those of us with ish deal with having anxiety while we’re supposedly in the most placid, wonderful time of our lives (i.e. this magic called baby-baking)? I’m receiving the pressure from everyone of, don’t stress! That isn’t good for the baby! And I’m like, duh!!!!!! But telling a stressed person with ish NOT to stress is really not effective. But then, where do all my non-stressing enthusiasts have to go? Reverse psychology? Tell me absolutely I should be stressing? Yeah, you see the problem there, too.

It’s a no win situation.

No, the best thing I did for myself was cancel my dinner with T (sorry T, you know I love you) and hole up, eat some plain ass food to calm my freaking stomach, and let this storm pass. By the end of it, I knew it would…it was just a matter of letting it do so. But I tell you…I don’t want this to keep happening. This whole process, which I’m truthfully enjoying a lot, is harrowing enough as it is. I don’t need the added crazy. But I guess, I am the added crazy.

Ay, there’s the rub.

I don’t watch Gossip Girl, so I don’t know much about Blake Lively…is she a good actress? The Town is on right now, and I’m only half-watching, but she seems fairly legit.

Am I crazy?

Crying jags have hit the Saddle household. I’ve been told about these and, as a crier, I was kinda like, yeah okay. I know how to cry. This is nothing new for me.

But it’s seriously uncontrollable. I’m just talking…just standard talking (about something I was upset about, but still) and there they went. Tears! All over my face. Un.Con.Trollable.

Later on, talking to my mom. Tears! Again! All over my face. WTF?

My eyes still feel salty, but my brain is like, oh brother.

I think I’ll make myself a snack to feel better. Sheesh!