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Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Things I wish the baby couldn't hear

So, you may recall a few weeks ago when I discovered that the baby is now developed enough to hear the outside world. Knowing this, I try to talk to her sometimes, maybe sing to her a little, get her used to my voice, etc.

But now I also feel like she is spying on me. I'm never really alone, am I? There's always someone along for the ride, listening to everything I do, silently judging me (probably).

Oh, fetuses don't have the ability to judge their mothers? HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?? YOU DON'T. THERE'S NO WAY YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW THAT. What are you, some kind of Fetus Whisperer? Oh, look out guys, Cesar f**king Millan the Fetus Whisperer is here to tell us what fetuses can and can't judge. Sheesh, get over yourself for a second. Just because her eyes are still fused shut, doesn't mean she's not constantly rolling them, thinking about how stupid and embarrassing I am.


Here are a few of the moments where I really wish she would just look away or something:

When I sing in the car

The great thing about singing in the car is that it's really the only time when I can sing as loud as I want and I don't have to worry about anyone hearing me. It's like my own personal karaoke bar, and I like to crank up the volume and screech to my heart's content.

Now, I'm not a bad singer -- I play guitar and sing along decently enough to impress many a drunk person. However, my vocal range is very limited, and the songs I choose to learn on guitar are carefully selected to make me sound as good as possible. In the car, I just sing along with whatever comes on, including songs I have absolutely no business trying to hit the high notes of.

But hey, who cares, right? Nobody can hear me!


She's lying -- she doesn't have $5000.

Now I'm all self-conscious. Whatever, Gizmo -- you're no Carrie Underwood either.

Well, time to start Ace-bandaging a giant pillow around my belly before I drive anywhere. CAN'T HEAR ME NOW, CAN YOU?

BAM. That's how you win, guys.

When I go to town on something unhealthy

Ah, is there anything better than chowing down on something TERRIBLE when you know nobody is going to find out about it? You buy a box of those little Entenmann's chocolate-covered donuts and just eat every last one of them yourself?

Soon, my darlings.

This wasn't thrilling in the least when I lived alone, but now that Jesse and I are all up each other's asses all the time, it's a lot harder to get away with something like eating a whole pint of ice cream in one sitting and then putting the empty container in the outside garbage underneath something gross so nobody will find it (don't tell me you haven't done this, because you have done this).

Jesse and I are insanely healthy eaters, though, so it's not very often that I just want to go wild and hit the McDonald's dollar menu or stuff a whole chocolate bar into my face. And since I eat so healthy most of the time, I feel like it's okay to indulge every so often. But you know who sees me enjoying my indulgences, and judges the shit out of me for it?

I mean, have we forgotten what happened when I ate a giant plate of crepes in Las Vegas? Gizmo was in a frothy, violent, sugar-induced rage afterwards. I can't get away with ANYTHING anymore.

This was before her hair came in.

When I freestyle non-curse at other drivers

When someone on the road does something stupid and surprises me, my brain doesn't have time to formulate meaningful angry sentences -- I just start shouting words while I swerve to avoid certain death or minor bumper damage.

Like singing in the car, however, I never felt any shame about these outbursts of mental illness, because there weren't any witnesses. All that has changed now ...


When I cut my workout short because mehhh

You guys ... I swear ... I am really good about working out. We have a home gym with a treadmill, weight bench, and full weight set. I was a distance runner before I was pregnant, and I still run (though not as fast, far, or nearly as gracefully). But sometimes? I'm just not feeling it. I'll put on my workout clothes, torture myself through a slow two-mile jog, do like two sets of bicep curls, and then just realize I'm not feeling it and decide to quit.

And it's okay to quit sometimes. You're not ALWAYS in the right mood for a killer workout.


It's especially okay to quit when nobody sees you do it, and then you can just tell everyone later how you had a great workout and felt the burn and MAN are your legs sore today!


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