July 31, 2007

I can’t remember the last time I experienced a blockage-free inhalation through the nostrils. My sinuses have always been troublesome, but it seems my lot during pregnancy is for everything to seal up and leave me a snorting, gasping, mouth-breathing elephant seal for months on end. Nothing helps: futile, squeaky blasts into the ever-present Kleenex (and yet I constantly honk away, in the hopes of that one nose-blow that clears the fucking runway), deep breathing in a hot and steamy shower, generous helpings of that red spicy sauce with the rooster on it . . . nothing. Not even the forbidden Afrin can unclog my stuffy, sneezy, foghorn-y snout.

As miseries go, I suppose this is fairly minor. But if you’ll permit me to whine anyway, the Pregnancy Nose combined with the near-constant Pregnancy Headache is enough to make a person really re-think the wisdom of that whole second child thing. Especially when you consider the rest of the body isn’t exactly a wonderland, what with the massively painful Pregnancy Boobs and the, um, Pregnancy Gas.

Ah, the miracle of life. Next up: heartburn and hemorrhoids!

I was kind of moping around today about how I didn’t feel very good and I was so tired and what were we thinking having another baby, oh my god, etc (I am enjoying an extended, robust session of anxiety on this subject, by the way), and then this magical thing happened.

We were getting Riley’s dinner ready, and I was holding him in my arms while JB offered him a bite of the macaroni and cheese he’d just cooked. As JB brought the spoon over, he somehow lost control of a single macaroni noodle, which flew through the air in a perfect, slow-motion arc, twirling end over and end—tiny liquid droplets of cheese splattering to the floor—until it landed directly between my big toe and second toe. Exactly in the area where a flip-flop would snugly hold your shoe on. It made a horrific “plop” sound and I could feel it oozing down into my toe crevice and coating my toe innards with warmed cheese.

It lay in there for a moment like some kind of loathsome insect, the pulpy sides of the noodle were squishy—yet disturbingly firm—between my two toes. Then, before I knew it, Dog was on the job, jamming her tongue down in my toes, furiously probing for noodle remnants.

The only thing I could do was to scream and, if truth be told, pee my pants (just a little!) while still holding Riley. I laughed so hard that in addition to compromising the integrity of my pelvic floor I actually forgot all about my stupid nose for a few minutes, and when JB started cracking up, and Riley did that tennis-match back and forth stare, things didn’t seem quite so bleakly overwhelming. What the fuck, you know? Sometimes life is just so ridiculous, and those are my very favorite moments of all.

July 30, 2007

(189 comments and counting! You guys are very, very cool.)

I’m pleased to report that JB made it home from the great outdoors not much worse for wear, with only some residual kielbasa off-gassing and a layer of filth under his fingernails that seems impervious to all available manmade cleaning products. Dog has chunks of pitch all over her fur and a palpable air of disappointment that she has been taken from her dream of living in the woods near a swimmable lake and returned to a Boring Suburban Backyard with only the occasional trespassing raccoon to break up the monotony.

Me, I’m just relieved to have a little backup on toddler duty. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time with Riley over the last couple days, it’s just that it was, ha ha, possibly the longest weekend of my entire life. I’m including that one time I got food poisoning, even, because at least then I could lie on the bathroom floor for five minutes without someone jumping on me yelling “MOMMYYYY!!” Man, when you start daydreaming about that awesome time when you turbo-barfed for 24 hours straight, you officially need a BREAK.

The menfolk, manfully standing around with big macho backpacks.

I heard it was a total sausagefest.

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