Just Another Day

Ah now, you can't blame a pregnant woman for taking the lazy way out and posting a Michael Jackson video, can you? I was never a huge fan of MJ, although I certainly can acknowledge his talent. Thriller came out just as I was hitting my musical stride, and I have to say I resented it for all the attention it got over my more alternative musical favorites. I did truly enjoy Billie Jean, though. I definitely liked his early stuff better, and I think he definitely peaked with Thriller . The older he got, the more I hated looking at what he had become, and I don't know why plastic surgeons kept agreeing to alter his face. This song is from Off the Wall , and one that makes me dance no matter what is going on.

Summer is here, and you can tell because my house is a complete disaster. I don't know how he does it, but in a very short amount of time, Mr. P manages to scatter a million things all over the floor. I try not to let it bother me too much, but when it devolves into a match of wills to get it picked up, my patience goes out the door. Patience is definitely not one of my virtues, lately. I'm lucky that it hasn't gotten that hot, but now that I have written that, I have doomed myself to 90+ degree temps for the duration of my pregnancy. For today's Music Monday, I'll take you back to the early 80's. One of the records I listened to the most was introduced to me by, of course, my father. I think a litle later he got a cassette tape, and I began listening to that more, simply because it was easier to rewind my favorite songs. But I pretty much listened to all of them, and I would screech along to the lyrics, because I am an alto, and Lou Gramm is a definite te...

Do you use Chapstick, Blistex, Vaseline, or something else to moisten your lips?

And the craziness continues.... What is your favorite museum?

Ah, it is Wednesday and I have yet to write anything here this week. Boo. To give you an example of how distracted I am lately, I will tell you the tale of two trash cans. Because of the placement of our neighbor's driveway, they place their trash cans in front of our place. Whatever. Last week after the trash had been picked up, I was backing up out of our garage and Mr. P yelled, "Don't go, there are trash cans in the way!" Well, we were running a tad late for school and I figured the child just meant that a trashcan was sort of blocking the exit. Well darn if I couldn't even see the damn things as they were right behind my car! So I wound up knocking two of them over. Shit. So I jump (exaggeration as me at 17 weeks pregnant does not "jump" anywhere) out and pull them into our garage so as to be able to get out. And for the entire week after, there has been a lone trash can sitting there, with no home to go to. I kept moving it into the neighbor...

Things are rolling along, next week is Mr. P's last week of school. Lots of things to do and seemingly not enough time to do them. How do you sleep? Your stomach, back, side? Combination of all three?

For almost a month now, my life has been consumed with percentages. And I hate math. There is some prenatal testing that is available to women in California, known here as the Triple Screen . As an old woman at 38, I was highly advised to partake in the Triple Screen, although I will say I was never forced. And I thought to myself, it's just a little blood test, right? Well, that little blood test has made my life hell ever since. I got the call on a Wednesday. Even though I didn't get to the phone in time to answer and nothing specific was said in the message, my heart sank because I had been told that I would only be contacted if it was bad news. I was told that I had crappy PAPP-A levels, which factored in with my age, gave me a 1 in 38 chance of having a baby with a chromosomal defect. Whaaaa? No need to tell me now that percentage-wise, 1 in 38 isn't horrifically bad. I didn't think of it that way. All I could think of was 38 women standing in a room, and one of th...