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Tag: Dairy Queen

Things My Doctor Tells Me That I Ignore

I have been pregnant since the dawn of time.

At least that’s how it feels. Although I technically have 5 weeks to go (how this is even possible I don’t even know) I think I’ll start bouncing on the ball and eating spicy food and all that baby eviction stuff in a couple of weeks.  And I as get closer to the big day, my doctor has been giving me all sorts of instructions.

Instructions that I will likely ignore.

You’re probably wondering what the hell? Why would you deliberately go against medical advice?  Well, it’s not like I have cancer or heart disease or something.  I’m having a fucking baby.  And second of all, some of the instructions are more mortifying than than the thought of what could happen if I don’t heed her advice.

1.  Don’t eat sweets.  At all. Never, ever.

How about you just stop talking right there?  We have this really nice, honest doctor patient relationship and then you go ahead and say something like this.  To a pregnant lady.  Who, in your very own words has “managed to not gain very much weight” during this pregnancy.

What the fuck is wrong with her?  As if I won’t try everything on the Dairy Queen menu at least once before I pop this Little Buddy out.  And all of you granola munching, vegan bean eating women out there in the peanut gallery can keep your nutrition advice to yourself too.  Because I don’t care.  I’m eating all the things and taking my vitamins and trying to waddle walk around as much as I can.  And if that calls for a little indulgence, then it does.  Christ.

2. Perineum massage

Excuse me?  What in God’s name is a perineum?  Do you think I’ll be able to reach it if I don’t know what it is?  Do I need to study an anatomy textbook?  Wait….do you mean the “t’aint”?  As is,  t’aint the asshole but t’aint the vag?

Let me put this into perspective.  I have not seen my crotch since about 24 weeks.  That’s almost 3 months ago.  I’m not even positive that it still exists.  So I can’t see my vag, I certainly can’t reach my vag, and the t’aint is apparently even further back than that.  How much massaging does she expect to get done in this situation?

Furthermore, it sounds like some dirty pregnancy only sex trick.  And I’m not feeling it.  Literally.

Lastly, I forgot to even ask why she wants me to do this. My perineum shall remain a lonely mystery to me, unmassaged and unloved.  I’m not doing it, the end.

3. Nipple shields

Do these come with nipple swords, too?  Or do we just expect pregnant and breastfeeding nipples to be so large and in charge that they become a weapon in themselves?  Just like the fembots in Austin Powers.

No, these things are supposed to help my nipples stand out for my baby to latch on to.  I’m supposed to walk around with them under my shirt all day.   Maybe I would, if I was into the porn star look.

But listen, I work with children. I can’t walk around with giant nipples boners all day long.  Seriously.  I understand the purpose here, but come on.  The whole pregnancy and delivery thing strips a woman enough of her dignity and privacy and modesty and just about everything else as it is.  Can’t we just leave my tits alone?  At least until after the baby is born?


4. Go to the hospital as soon as you have regular contractions

NO fucking way.  I will wait until the last minute, in time for them to catch.  The only reason I am having my baby in a hospital is because I am too chicken shit of the “what ifs” to do it at home.  But I don’t want to labour there.  I don’t want a bazillion nurses checking my “progress” down there every hour.  Why?  Because I don’t need to hear that I’m only at 5cm, and that a pitocin drip would help it move along faster.  Or have someone try to talk me into countless other interventions.  I just want all hands out of my vagina until the baby is coming down the mountain.  And I’m pretty sure we’ll all know when that is, because my vocabulary will start to deteriorate significantly.

The truth is, it probably won’t mattter anyway.  Destroyer came out lickety split, and I suspect Buddy will too.  But really, I trust my body to do what it needs to do.  It certainly did last time.

So, I will wait things out at home as long as possible, and try to keep my bits to myself.

So kids, on this blissful Monday morning, there you have it.

Stubborn me and my hidden perineum need another cup of coffee.

Winter: Fuck You Edition



I am seriously in need of a change in weather.  I don’t want to be one of those losers that has nothing to say and so they talk about the weather and nothing interesting ever.   But seriously, people it is March the fucking 19th and we just had a blizzard here yesterday.  I can’t fucking take anymore. Let me give some very good reasons I need spring, and I need it now. 

1. I am too fat to chase my toddler around the house every time we have to get dressed to go outside.  She wants to go out, but as soon as we actually have to get ready it turns into this annoying game which is fun for no one except for her.  Put the hat on, the hat comes off.  Try to put the mittens on, she shakes them off.  She is the devil.

2.  I am also too fat to keep having to wear boots to go outside.  I need to be wearing flip flops, people.  I can’t bend over far enough to get the fucking boots on anymore.

3.  AND I am also too fat to do up any of my winter coats.  I wasn’t about to go spend a couple hundred bucks last month on a maternity winter coat for like 2 weeks of winter.  If I would have known this was going to be a fucking ice age, I may have reconsidered this.

4. Dairy Queen has Blizzard treats on sale this month for buy one, get one for .99$.  I know I talk about this a lot, but the month is going by so fast!  Who wants to eat a goddamn Blizzard treat in a blizzard?

5. The snow in the backyard is so deep I can’t even take the dogs back there to play.  The pug can’t even take a shit because her ass in under the snow.  And when the dogs aren’t getting out enough, they get super annoying.  They pace.  They follow you around incessantly.  And they do what any true member of our family does when they’re bored.  They eat.  And by eat, I mean they eat the child’s crayons.  Do you know what it looks like outside in the potty zone?  It looks like Rainbow Brite  has been taking a shit in my backyard.  Please.  Spring. Please.

6. I think we have this thing called cabin fever.  Have you ever tried to entertain a toddler in the house all day while Daddy tries to sleep during the weeks he’s on night shift?  It’s super fun except all of those moments when the child is using screaming for a sound effect.  It doesn’t matter if she is displaying happiness, or discontent, or excitement.  The appropriate reaction is to scream.  So she pretty much screams all the time.

7.  I need to Bbq.  I mean we still can, but seeing as I’m challenged in the winter gear department, and part of the fun of Bbq-ing is sitting outside together while dinner cooks and the Destroyer sleeps peacefully, this shit needs to melt ASAP.  I need a flame broiled steak.  I need fire on my meat.  And I need to stop making such a mess of the kitchen, because then I have to clean it afterwards.  Bbq means defrost meat, place potatoes, toss salad.  No mess, lots of eating, and a trip to DQ after.

One more dump of snow could break me.  I’m crumbling as it its.  Yesterday I watched Breaking Dawn Part 2 and cried like a baby.  I need to get outside for some fresh, unfrozen air, and empty some of the crazy out of my sauce.


A Post About Nothing: Gratitude Edition



I couldn’t decide what to write about.  This week is madness and I don’t have a lot of time today.  I am literally going to finish my coffee and then be lucky if my feet may see the couch again around 10 tonight.  I will likely be living somewhere in between my teacher’s house and my piano bench from now until Saturday night in every spare moment that I am not teaching.  Thank God Husband is off these next few days.

I was going to talk about what an asshole Justin Bieber has become, but I’m too tired to fight with all the teenage girls in the world.

Then I had a super interesting and thoughtful post that I came up with in the middle of the night while Destroyer was busy fucking around for about an hour and half last night.  She wanted to hang out with the dog and wouldn’t go back to sleep.  I just can’t remember what it is now.  It got lost in a sea of German lyrics that are taking up most of the space in my brain right now.

Then I considered talking about the fact that I finally had enough sense to start eating some vegetables.  My time in the bathroom has been soooo much more productive.  But then I thought, nah, TMI.  Right?

So.  Now that I’ve spent some time writing a post about absolutely nothing, I’ll give you the message of the day.

Take the time to be grateful.  Take the time to show that gratitude to the people who are good to you.  When life gets crazy and it’s bound to sometimes, there are people in your life who make it all come out okay at the end of the day.

For me, I have to remember to be grateful to Husband, who puts up with a lot of shit every year in March, and all the time during the school year.  There are constantly people in our home.  Most of them have been with me a very long time and we consider them friends by now.  But still.  His space is always invaded and I am grateful he is so tolerant.

For a beautiful and engaging child.  For a growing belly!

I am grateful that we have so much support from family, who ask for nothing in return.  Who never dictate, and always listen.

I am grateful for the people who love my daughter like their own.  You know who you are.  I am grateful she will have a safe place to go to when she gets pissed off at me later on and runs away for the first time, because I’m pretty sure I know the first place she’ll go.  I am grateful that these people direct me well and remind me to enjoy the simple moments in life.  The important stuff that can’t ever be bought.

For good friends.

And seriously, for Dairy Queen.  Buy one get Blizzard get one for .99$?  I can hear the angels singing!

I know it’s not Thanksgiving or anything, but we should be grateful every day.  It could have been a really helpful clerk at a grocery store, or a friendly server who took the time to chat with you over lunch.  Maybe someone found your lost wallet and returned it intact.

Take a second to include a little bit of gratitude in your life everyday.  You’ll always find some reason for it, even on the shittiest days, I promise.

And you know what?  When you try to find the good in everything, the bad becomes way less obvious.

It’s all about perspective!

Happy Thursday, kids!

The Millennial Pastor

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