Today is my due date. I'm still pregnant. I shall say no more about my misery, except that I also have a cold and my computer required reinstallation due to a virus. I've complained enough now, thank you.
I did get some shopping therapy in, though. Nothing for me, necessarily, but I got a (half-sweet, pumkin spice) latte out of the deal and the gremlins were excellent in the maul. I also got an hour long nap and made a dinner any slacker mom would be proud of. Booyeah, Maven.
Bored, sick, incredibly pregnant women have very little of interest to say, as you can probably figure out by my posts over the last few days... weeks... ok, months. Making fun of others has become a passtime of the utmost importance. Today is no exception. Has anyone else noticed Dr. Phil's new teeth? Robin apparently got to the good doctor over the summer months, convincing him that it was time to blind his audience every time he opens his mouth. All I can do is stare in horror. He's having a hard time speaking with those fake pearlies, too. They look so very, very wrong. I keep wondering if he's going to take them out and drop them in a glass right before the commercial break. Eep.
Now, I'm not opposed to dental work when its needed. I had some very old, yellowed crowns as front teeth, acquired at the age of thirteen after an, um, car accident. Yeah. A car accident which had nothing to do with a teenage Maven chasing her gerbil onto a highway and getting hit by a Toyota as a result. Nothing at all. Desperate Bon-Bon Eater's honour.
*AHEM*
Anyway, I had to replace those baby chicklets with something that fits my adult mouth. This resulted in a not-so-cheap, six tooth bridge. But you know, I gots a purdy mouth now. My upper front teeth look like they had braces on them for a few years. The difference between what I have vs. what the McGraws have is that mine aren't likely to cause permanent retina damage in the person I smile at. I have the whitest natural colour. Key word: natural. It doesn't look like I just swished with a mouthful of bleach.
Celebrities are just bored. They have too much money and nothing to spend it on. It's becoming increasingly easy to convince them that they need something. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes bought an ultrasound machine, for goodness sakes. Imagine what that child was exposed to in utero. I'm guessing the reason they didn't show off baby Suri for months is because she needed her third eye and the nostril in her neck removed before picture day.
I'm hoping InUtero Boy will not have anything abnormal but the horns and tail I'm anticipating. Maybe some little fangs, which I can excuse away until after Hallowe'en, anyway.
Tomorrow I go see my doctor for the membrane stripping party. Woohoo! I just love uncomfortable proceedures that may or may not put me into labour! After that fun time, we get to book the slicing and dicing of yours truly, just in case the doctor's magic fingers don't do the trick. If I feel no labour coming on by Wednesday morning, I'm going to get me some accupuncture and prenatal massage, in hopes of avoiding surgery later this week or early the next. The whole staples-in-the-stomach-while-caring-for-a-newborn thing doesn't really entice me a second time. It's through the hooha or bust! (then again, I'd rather the babe not come out my bust - that might make breastfeeding challenging).
And I wonder why a lot of guys don't read my blog...
I did get some shopping therapy in, though. Nothing for me, necessarily, but I got a (half-sweet, pumkin spice) latte out of the deal and the gremlins were excellent in the maul. I also got an hour long nap and made a dinner any slacker mom would be proud of. Booyeah, Maven.
Bored, sick, incredibly pregnant women have very little of interest to say, as you can probably figure out by my posts over the last few days... weeks... ok, months. Making fun of others has become a passtime of the utmost importance. Today is no exception. Has anyone else noticed Dr. Phil's new teeth? Robin apparently got to the good doctor over the summer months, convincing him that it was time to blind his audience every time he opens his mouth. All I can do is stare in horror. He's having a hard time speaking with those fake pearlies, too. They look so very, very wrong. I keep wondering if he's going to take them out and drop them in a glass right before the commercial break. Eep.
Now, I'm not opposed to dental work when its needed. I had some very old, yellowed crowns as front teeth, acquired at the age of thirteen after an, um, car accident. Yeah. A car accident which had nothing to do with a teenage Maven chasing her gerbil onto a highway and getting hit by a Toyota as a result. Nothing at all. Desperate Bon-Bon Eater's honour.
*AHEM*
Anyway, I had to replace those baby chicklets with something that fits my adult mouth. This resulted in a not-so-cheap, six tooth bridge. But you know, I gots a purdy mouth now. My upper front teeth look like they had braces on them for a few years. The difference between what I have vs. what the McGraws have is that mine aren't likely to cause permanent retina damage in the person I smile at. I have the whitest natural colour. Key word: natural. It doesn't look like I just swished with a mouthful of bleach.
Celebrities are just bored. They have too much money and nothing to spend it on. It's becoming increasingly easy to convince them that they need something. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes bought an ultrasound machine, for goodness sakes. Imagine what that child was exposed to in utero. I'm guessing the reason they didn't show off baby Suri for months is because she needed her third eye and the nostril in her neck removed before picture day.
I'm hoping InUtero Boy will not have anything abnormal but the horns and tail I'm anticipating. Maybe some little fangs, which I can excuse away until after Hallowe'en, anyway.
Tomorrow I go see my doctor for the membrane stripping party. Woohoo! I just love uncomfortable proceedures that may or may not put me into labour! After that fun time, we get to book the slicing and dicing of yours truly, just in case the doctor's magic fingers don't do the trick. If I feel no labour coming on by Wednesday morning, I'm going to get me some accupuncture and prenatal massage, in hopes of avoiding surgery later this week or early the next. The whole staples-in-the-stomach-while-caring-for-a-newborn thing doesn't really entice me a second time. It's through the hooha or bust! (then again, I'd rather the babe not come out my bust - that might make breastfeeding challenging).
And I wonder why a lot of guys don't read my blog...