Last week we went in for the standard 18-20 week anatomy scan of the baby. For weeks, the boy has stressed about his reaction if it wasn't a boy. I assured him that, if he were to swear out loud, it would be okay - he's surely not the first dad to be pissed off that they're having a girl instead of the coveted boy.
Instead, I was the one swearing. No, more like demanding that the ultrasound tech take it back. She lead me on, first of all. Which is entirely unfair to a hormonally imbalanced pregnant woman who has had just about enough of tween drama.
"See those three little dots right there?" she asked.
"Uh-huh....." I responded dreamily, my eyes quickly misting with tears at our good fortune to have a boy. 3 dots surely means two testicles and a little turtle, right?
"It's a girl!"
I nearly punched her in the face. A girl?!? What?!? How am I supposed to deal with that? How, when I am FORTY-TWO-years-old am I going to deal with a whining tween coming home from school, rolling her eyes and telling me how wrong I am about everything that comes out of my mouth.
At nearly FIFTY, how am I supposed to deal with horny boys and eating disorders? I am not prepared for such things.
In the elevator, the boy tried to console me, "maybe there's still time honey - maybe one will grow."
My reply? "Honey, if it's this small now, I don't want it to be a boy. No son of mine will bear that burden."
Of course, now the guilt is setting in. My rational side is telling me that I waited a long time for this baby. I should be thrilled, even if it is a girl. I should feel blessed and overjoyed that we will soon be parents for a second time.
Instead, I'm a neurotic mess (this seems to be a golden thread that runs throughout my life). So, welcome to the family Ella Alexandra. Your mom's a neurotic nut job, your dad has decided not to put you up for sale on eBay as was his original plan if you were a girl and your sister has already picked out your wardrobe for the next 5 years of your life. We love you, even if we are crazy as hell.
So yeah, the weekend officially ended like, 5 days ago. And there is a new one starting in approximately 7 hours, but hey, who's counting? And the fact that I'm just getting around to posting about my ever-so-exciting weekend of last, we're all just gonna go with it.
#1. I found shit in my bathroom cabinet. Not like crap that people don't bother putting away - actual HUMAN FECES folks. On toilet paper.
Now, I know my own kid well enough by now to understand that she would not do such a thing. And certainly the boy and I would not do this either. So who exactly wipes their ass and then puts the dirty toilet paper in my bathroom cabinet with my nice Downy-fresh towels? Oh, that might be the neighbor kid across the street who I heard going through my cabinets when she was using the loo the last time she was over. And I know it's her because she's the only other person that's been in our house since then. Hm.
#2. My kid was offered a Playboy. By the same neighbor girl. Who's like, 8. WTF? She came over to our house and was like, "you've got to come over, I've got to show you something." Apparently, she'd been in her parents room and (shockingly!) been pilfering through their private spaces (between the mattress - how original) only to come up with a Playboy which she promptly hid in her own bedroom to show my kid. Lovely.
The first question that I have is, "why is she rifling between her parents mattress?" The second question I have is, "why must I have this knowledge?" I can no longer look out my kitchen window without seeing the man who owns the Playboy and getting visuals that no one should ever have. Short, squat and with a beer belly, he's a man that loves his leaf blower a little too much.
#3. I wasted 3 hours of my life that I will never get back at the spanking new Wal*Mart Super Center. It's a lot like Meijer's. Which was a little nostalgic for me. Anyway, the Sunday before many kids went back to school, 30 lanes open, every one of them 15 people deep. Who do I end up in line with? The old lady on the motorized scooter with an 18-pack of Ensure, a 24-pack of Busch Light and a value-size pack of Depends. I didn't actually talk to her, but I desperately wanted to take her picture and post it - too bad I couldn't find an excuse to get in front of her and do it.
#4. I realized the boy has no clue what Orange Crush is. Again, I ask, WTF? Sometimes I wonder if his parents kept him locked in a closet when he was little. We attended an outdoor wedding reception this weekend (which was in the middle of "Hurricane Danny") and of course I couldn't drown my sorrows at the open bar, so I opted for an Orange Crush. Dan walks up and asks for one, only to get in an argument with the bartender. When he is handed said can of Crush, he is thoroughly confused because he is thinking an orange slushy-type thing. I promptly edumacated him that it also comes in Strawberry and Grape. Yikes.
#5. I bought a new-to-me-vehicle. Without consulting the boy. Which is exactly what he gets for buying a new truck and plow last fall without consulting me first. I am still sticking out my tongue at him over that one.
So that's my weekend wrap-up. I'm headed north for the weekend to visit the 'rents for a night and then Sunday and Monday I have a wee bit of work to do. I've been bit of a slacker lately and it shows. Have a fun and safe holiday weekend!
Last week we went in for the standard 18-20 week anatomy scan of the baby. For weeks, the boy has stressed about his reaction if it wasn't a boy. I assured him that, if he were to swear out loud, it would be okay - he's surely not the first dad to be pissed off that they're having a girl instead of the coveted boy.