Body vs. Baby

“Do we need a news flash every time your body does something?”

-Diego, “Ice Age”

 Why yes, you do. It’s my blog, you see.

I am not sure if I am mad or relieved. I had another doctor’s appointment today, and finally the results of my 3-hour glucose test. Turns out, I do have gestational diabetes. Why, then, did I not get the results sometime in the last 11 days? Oh, that’s easy. I am a borderline gestational diabetic. But don’t worry… for good measure, I am still being sent to the dietician where I get my very own glucometer (can you rent those??), meal plan, and “education”. Whatever that means… my pamphlet does say “3 hours”, so at least it will be lengthy.

The good news: I have no family history of diabetes. I am not overweight. I guess that means that once the baby slips right out of there, I’m golden. Basically, the doctor explained it as my body, fighting the baby for sugar. Now that’s a funny image. I think that it’s really just the fates, informing me that I am not destined for the 12 children my loins long for. Shoot. Time for plan B.

Our Song

When I was pregnant with Ethan, I was called as a nursery worker in our Ward. One Sunday, as Josh and I were in charge of singing time, the most adorable 2 year old, Hailey, requested to sing "Hey, Mama". I had no idea what Primary song she could be thinking of, and asked her to sing it for me. I was appalled as the toddler in front of me belted out, "Hey, Mama, shake that booty real fast. Ah, hey, Mama!" What kind of mother listens to Black-Eyed Peas in front of her child enough that she could actually memorize the words?! 

That was then. This is today. Here is a video of my sons, dancing to their new favorite song:

I thought that it was cute... I hope you enjoyed it. A deep and most sincere apology goes out to Hailey's Mom... wherever you are.

In Other Reality TV Show News:

Does this dude scare anyone else? I don’t plan on posting each week about American Idol, so you can breathe a sigh of relief, but this guy can no longer be ignored.

Let’s forget for just one moment his sexual ambiguity. Perhaps he can sing… I know I can’t hit the notes he does. But his singing troubles me in, oh, so many ways. Take this week’s “Grand Ole Opry” performance of Johnny Cash’s legendary “Ring of Fire”. The longer it went on, the more it sounded like a searing ballad describing the woes of an STD. Indeed, I have heard that some of them, “Burn, burn, burn…” but I am certain that STD’s only and not love, burn in the whiny way that Adam portrayed.  I just can’t handle it.

If you love him, please don’t hate me. I just can’t stand theatrics. Thinking of him gives me the willies. For the record, my loyalties lie with Allison Iraheta and Danny Gokey. Amazing.

 

Others issues my hit list:

Megan Joy Corkrey: The ridiculous dancing must stop.

Scott MacIntyre: America is not so heartless as to vote off a blind man, especially one who can sing and play the piano. Welcome to the top 3!

Liars Abound

I am a vision. A Venus in denim panel pants. Mona Lisa with a greasy ponytail. If there is one thing that I have learned about being pregnant, it is that everyone you know, and some strangers, are suddenly willing to lie to you.

It ranges from, “Oh, no, those maternity stirrup pants don’t make your ankles look fat!” to “You know, you just might be the cutest pregnant lady I’ve ever seen!” (Got that little gem, standing in line at a Bath and Body Works store. I’d like to say that I didn’t take the compliment to heart, tear-up, and try to restrain myself from flinging my arms about the poor woman… I’d really like to, but I can’t.)

Another week—another trip to the doctor. More exposed lies.

I wish to publicly examine a few of these lies for you, so that you don’t get too cozy, as I have, in your gestational world.

 

1. A fetal heartbeat can tell you the sex of the baby.

False. For weeks leading up to my ultrasound, my baby’s heartbeat was somewhere in the high 150’s. Or as my doctor put it: The “Girl Range”. Now that’s a risky little game, telling a mother of two boys that she has a good chance at a girl. I would like to add that since the ultrasound and the ultimate reveal, my son’s heartbeat has gone back down to a more boyish 140. Perhaps he was anxious to find out for himself…

 

2. Wardrobe can affect perception.

True. A few weeks ago, while at the doctor’s office, I mentioned how big this baby felt, to which my doctor replied, “You don’t look that big.”. He proceeded to measure my belly with the paper  measuring tape, pointedly glance at my blouse, then added, “Of course, black can be deceptively slimming.”.

3.   You cannot develop gestational diabetes with subsequent pregnancies if you have not had a problem with a previous pregnancy (or two…)  

False. Turns out, this baby might just have a good reason for being huge. My last glucose test came back a little high, for which I have earned a ticket to the fun zone. Yep, turns out there’s a prize for a high glucose test. I get to spend my day on Monday, fasting for six hours, after which I will spend 3 hours in the waiting room of my doctor’s office, drinking “glucola” and having my blood drawn every hour. Anyone want to recommend a good book?  

The best news of all? If I triumph again, (fingers crossed…) I earn a trip to the dietician who will take away all complex carbohydrates and sugars from my diet.  Hooray! How can one girl be so lucky?

 Here’s looking forward to another 10 weeks of fun and myth busting.

Retro

Where did my baby boy go? I mean, really. Ethan loves to watch videos of himself as a baby/toddler and each time I humor him in some one-on-one viewing, I recognize the baby on the screen less and less. I’m sure most of you can relate.

That said, I would like to now share with you my all-time favorite video of my first baby boy. Mind you, this does not demonstrate the best of my mothering capabilities. He’s nearly naked and what is with that hair!? Please don’t judge me.

Taken sometime just before he was two (I think… Again, please don’t judge me.),  I really can’t tell you what he is saying. (And again, please don't judge me.) But, be sure to listen to him right after I tell him that I'm just taking a video. This is my baby boy:

I love you, Ethan!

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Congratulations, Jason Mesnick. You’ve really done America proud. You have taken The Bachelor to an all-new low. Now, in light of your new found fame, here are a few items that I suggest you add to your shopping list this week:

-An extra-sturdy athletic cup.

-A hockey helmet.

-Chain mail armor.

-Waterproof Band-Aids

-Tissues

Notice that I didn’t put any items such as, baseball bat or stun gun on the list. For your sake, I think that you’d better just stay away from the offensive route. Everyone knows that you deserve each and every blow brought down upon your head by the purse of a jilted viewer. Take it like a man. Melissa did.

Truly disappointed and appalled, I toyed with the idea of ignoring the entire season finale altogether and posting “Ode to a Q-Tip” (an original poem by yours truly) in protest to the final outcome of the “After the Final Rose” special. When it came down to it, I decided that I am not above being petty. Is anyone else thinking that maybe his first wife had some really good reasons to leave him??

Does anyone else think that Molly got over the “shock” of Jason’s admission pretty quickly? By the end of the first commercial break, she had her hand on his upper thigh. By the end of the second commercial break, they were practically making out. Not only did I lose all respect for Jason, but I lost any that I ever did have for Molly. What kind of woman doesn’t think of her friend, and what watching that was going to do to her? You both disgust me.

But hey, good job squeezing the last of your fifteen minutes of fame out at the very end. Of course you couldn’t break up with her in PRIVATE. ABC is officially, shameless. I guess, at least, they put Melissa in a limo before bringing out Molly, otherwise that could have been awkward.

The good news? Tonight will bring "After the Final Rose: Part Two".  Jillian, I think that you may still have a shot... if you ever wanted it.