36 WEEKS

Today is day 249 of being pregnant. Most people count their pregnancy in weeks, but I prefer to count it in days.  I check off each day in chalk on a wall in my bedroom, you know, just like those prisoners held in solitary confinement for an extended period of time... cause I feel like a prisoner trapped in a big 'ol fat suit.  Before I forget, I wanted to jot down a few things to remind people when interacting with huge, irritable, pregnant ladies:

For those of you with pregnant friends - 

You do not need to begin every single conversation with "How are you feeling?" or "You're huge!"

Please do not say "almost there" when your pregnant lady friend is only at 36 weeks.

For those of you gents who are lucky enough to have a pregnant wife - 

Never ever say to her, "You're just emotional because you are pregnant," even if it's probably true.

Please refrain from making sumo wrestling sounds when she kneels down for family prayer and then struggles to get up again.

Do not mention during church that you really feel inspired to tell her that you guys should have lots of children. Unless you are a Duggar, most women prefer to discuss family size when they are not uncomfortably pregnant.

Also, please don't point out the fact that she pants when walking more than 10 feet.  That's rude.

If your really cool friend tells you she is planning a homebirth, please don't say - 

"That's so brave of you.  If my kid[s] weren't born in the hospital he/she/they would have died!" ( Of course there are high risk situations where babies need to be born in the hospital, but when 90% of the people say this to me, I want to start yelling.)

Or at least hide the disgusted look on your face when you are trying to be supportive.

Finally, if your mommy is pregnant, her belly is not a toy.  Don't try to climb on it, ever.  It hurts.

WAL-MART AND COMMUNISM

Ya got trouble right here in our little town, with a capital T, that rhymes with P and that stands for, uh, P-Walmart!


That's right, our little itsy bitsy town is dealing with a huge controversy right now about whether or not to let Wal-mart build a megastore here.  There's already been one public hearing, and since the meeting's venue wasn't large enough, they are holding another hearing at the end of this month.  I might lose a few friends for posting this, but I'll be daring and say that I support the new Wal-mart.  I don't love Wal-mart, but I do love low prices and convenience. Call me crazy.  

Or should I say, call me a communist?  Here are some of the actual comments posted on our local newspaper's website:


"Buy Walmart and you will support the future invasion of the United States. YOU ARE UNAMERICAN, DISLOYAL AND TREASONOUS!"


I don't get it.  People will invade while we are busy shopping?  Shopping causes invasions?  Invaders will shop?  Elaborate please.


"It's UnAmerican to knowingly buy products made in a communist country. Does [this town] support communism? If so, support WalMart."


Is it just me, or is mentioning communism in an argument quickly becoming the new Godwin's Law?


"Most people working for Walmart receive other assistance like MEDI-CAL, food stamps and subsidized housing to make ends meet. "

This is a problem because....?


Finally, here is my favorite comment - 

"If I wanted high crime, burglaries, heavy vehicle emission pollution, HEAR MY NEIGHBORS HAVING SEX and all of the negatives of a big city, I would have chosen to remain in Los Angeles."


While this might sound crazy, I have also found this to be true.  We only had the unfortunate experience of hearing our neighbors have sex when we lived in close proximity to a Wal-mart.  The abominable town?  Provo, Utah.

ONE LAST HURRAH

A few days after Christmas, my favorite mother-in-law called to ask us if we wanted to use a non-refundable resort stay that she had reserved down in Mazatlan, Mexico. She was so desperate for someone to use it that she even offered to watch our kids. (She's crazy like that.) The only catch was that the resort stay was slated to begin about 4 days from her phone call and we had to find a way down there. It seemed unreal. Someone will watch our kids and we get a vacation? How could we say no!?

The next thing I know, Erik and I are hopping on a bus down to Mexico! Here's a picture of the bus dropping us off in downtown Mazatlan. Fancy, huh?


Alright, just kidding, we flew there on an airplane, but that really is a picture to prove that we actually got off the beach and explored Mazatlan one day. In case you were wondering, yes, I was scared of getting kidnapped/my baby cut out of me/being decapitated in Mexico. I blame my paranoia on all those years of living right on the border. That's why we spent the majority of our time with all the other tourists in the fancy resort areas. The other reason being that our Spanish is limited to phrases like, "¿Qué hora es? " and "¿Cuántos años tienes tú?"


Our suite at the resort had a fully equipped kitchen. So, one day we took a pulmonia to Wal-mart to get groceries. Pulmonia is the spanish word for a supercharged golfcart that goes 60 miles per hour. Our driver was blasting Mexican techno music out of these large speakers positioned directly behind us while weaving in and out of traffic. It's just about the most exciting thing you can do when you are 7 months pregnant on vacation. If you couldn't tell, in this picture I am holding on for dear life while going around a corner.


Speaking of thrills, Erik went parasailing. A Mexican guy approached him on the beach by our resort. He was holding a worn out parachute and a rope from the hardware store. The guy pointed out his friend in a boat and told Erik that he would accept 35 American Dollars. No waivers, no sort of safety training, no real communication. In fact, Erik even landed and took off from a crowded beach. I think that for Erik, the sketchiness only made the experience more exciting.


Like I said, there is not a lot that a big pregnant lady can do on vacation. Which is why this was the perfect vacation. I wasn't expected to do anything. Besides sleeping 10 hours a day, we ate a lot too. If you're grossed out by fish, don't look at this picture. This was the best lobster I have ever eaten. I just thought you should know.


Then, when we got really bored, we took turns modeling our cheap sunglasses on the beach. Good times! I could have done this for hours!!


Despite the short notice, I am so glad that we took the opportunity to go on this trip. I can't remember the last time (if ever) that I have taken a vacation so relaxing. The whole trip was so fantastic, that it doesn't even seem like it really happened. I have to keep looking at a seashell on our bathroom counter to remind myself that I really was that relaxed last week. We have a very crazy, but blessed, life. I am grateful.