Not even just a little bit pregnant

Today I anticipated the day that I wait for almost every month.  The day where I get to test to see whether I am pregnant.  I wait with bated breath to see what lines form on that little pee stick.  Instinctively I know that the result will be negative.  My breasts don't hurt.  I am not tasting that metallic taste in my mouth.  I am not particularly hormonal. 

Yet I stay.  Watching.  Waiting the full three minutes for the results to appear.  Then when I don't like the results, waiting a few more.  Until it hits me.  No matter how long I stay sitting on that toilet, I can't will those two little pink lines to form.  Another month.  Now I start the process all over again.  The ovulation calculators and tests.  The wondering if I should have a glass of wine or take an allergy medication for fear that it will affect the baby that just might be in my belly.  Another month.

Lulu

P.S. I hate you

We have assembled a list of things that irritate us about our "friends."  The kind of things that we could never say to their faces but would love to dish about behind their backs to better friends or at the very least, in the privacy of our ghost blog. 

Here are a few of our pet peeves, in no particular order.  Feel free to post your comments on which of these things irritate the bejesus out of you...or add a list of your own! 

• Ok.  We get it.  You have more money than we do.  Did it ever occur to you that we don't want to hear about your latest trip to Europe, new car, house, etc?  That your baby stroller costs more than my mortgage payment?  That life is soooo damn great because you don't have to worry about making ends meet? Too bad you cant buy a better personality with that cash. 
• Facebook does not give you permission to break other peoples news. LATEST UPDATE: "Please pray for my co-workers friend who just got in a car accident and died, leaving behind 2 year old twins." They are called boundaries....respect them... also, no one cares what restaurant you are eating at, or what a wonderful time you are currently having at a particular concert, party, event... you cant be having THAT much fun if you are bored enough to take time out to tell your loser FB friends so they can think you are more fabulous than you are. Facebook is also not the place to post pictures of the dinner party you hosted on Friday when you told me you couldnt hang out Friday because you were sick.... 

• Believe it or not, there is a time and place for competition- they usually end in the word "race" or "games." Parenting styles and children are not one of them...."I am totally surprised that you let your child watch t.v.  I cannot imagine letting my Sophie watch television until she is at least 3 years old." Well, that is why Sophie is socially retarded.  "It's a shame that your Jimmy can't be a more diverse eater.  My Nicholas has been eating foods like beef stroganoff and brussel sprouts since he was 6 months old." Maybe now you know where your childhood diabetes and obesity came from. How much you want to bet your children end up in juve because you are too busy bragging about how awesome they are to your friends instead of spending time with them. At least that is our hope... Well not really. But kind of. 
• One upping makes you seem pathetic. " I am training for a 10k this year" "oh ya, I am running a marathon." " I am going to try and learn Italian." " I am fluent in Italian, Spanish and 14 dead languages." "I decided to go back to school to get a masters." " I think I will get a PhD this year." We get it- you are insecure, instead of trying to belittle us try encouraging our endeavors,   maybe we will let you join in on them and some of our awesomeness will rub off on you.
• Purge the phrases "Let me see if I can fit you in" (pencil you in or any form tied to that) from your vocabulary. Also, dont tell a friend you cant remember if you made time for them that day... your life isnt so full that you could have forgotten the plans we made yesterday.
• Dont tell someone you consider them one of your friends and then NOT invite them to baby groups, book clubs, birthday parties, christmas parties etc. but you manage to invite the couple you met in line at the grocery store the night before. Its an even bigger no no to brag about these events in front of the uninvited...
• Yes, you DO look fat in that dress...

I'll sleep when I'm dead

One thing that never occurred to me before I had children was that when I was sick, it didn't matter anymore.  There is nobody to bring you a bowl of soup or Gatorade.  Except maybe your husband if the stars align.  I remember the days pre-children.  I would drift in and out of a drug (prescription) induced coma and slowly repair myself with the help of E! and celebrity gossip magazines.  Throw in a hot shower and comfy pajamas and I was on the road to wellville. 

Not so much the case anymore.  Now the minute my head hits the pillow, the baby is screaming because they are teething or wet or hot or cold.  Or maybe just for the sake of screaming.  It is hard to tell.  And as desperately as you want to stay home from work, the thought of staying home with your child sounds like...a whole lot of work.  So you power through the pain.  You lift yourself out of bed.  You look at your expired bottle of Tylenol and wonder if Children's Motrin in vast quantities will do the trick.  You drop your child off at daycare and struggle with the guilt of being a working mom. You deal with coworkers who tell you the obvious: "You don't look good."  Yes, thank you.  I realize that I look pitiful and that not even the help of caffeine and globbed on hookers makeup can take the parlor of death off of me. 

I now understand why looking back on pictures of my mom when she was my age that she looked so worn out by the world.  Perhaps it is because as moms, we give up the right to peace, quiet and rest the second our pee sticks read positive. But whose complaining? We can sleep when we are dead.    

Much ado about nothing

Dear Reader:

Why, you ask, would we start a blog about…well nothing?  Perhaps it was the opportunity to gripe about all the things that make us who we are.  All the things that we could NEVER say to those around us. "Yes, your butt looks big."  "I totally hate you in that color."  "Why do even keep our friendship going?"

The opportunity for us to be catty, but real.  And also as a forum welcoming many of you to do the same.   We are not asking that anyone to agree or disagree with our take on life. But if you like what we have to say, which lets face it, you will, feel free to share this blog with your friends and share your comments and experiences with us.

Adieu,
Cosmic Cowgirl and Lulu LaRue