More Questions, With Answers! Woohoo!

Going to be doing some stuff and thingies this week, in different places and locations. Heh.
So, busy busy busy, go go go, this that and the other = I’ll be Away From Keyboard a LOT.

To keep all of You Wonderful People entertained and amused, I’ll be slinking a little away from Lazy Douchedom again this week by FINALLY answering more of the questions you asked forever ago!

Then, later, I’ll also be asking YOU some questions. So get ready, my pretties.

Previous Posts Containing Answers:
Answers to “food-based” questions
Second installment of answers

Today’s Installment:

Dawn asked: “If you could snap your fingers and change one part of your body, what would it be?”

Well, if you had asked me that as a child, my IMMEDIATE response would have been,”My ears.”  I got made fun of A LOT for my ears.

Being called “Dumbo” was not unheard of.

Bastards.

A year ago, I’d have asked for someone to zap my Muffin-op away.

But bah.  I’m pregnant now, so the Muffin-Top is just providing the rounded-out icing on top of my bulbous cake of a belly.  Yay and shi.

What I’d really like is thinner, smoother thighs.  The junk in my trunk I can handle, but I HATES DEM OLE JELLY LEGS.

******

Kat asked: “What do you want to be when you grow up (you know, figuratively speaking, who wants to grow up anyway!)”

When I was a little kid (yes, I’m going to start off that way again) I wanted to be an astronaut.  AND a ballerina.  Yes, at the same time.  And, uh, I TOTALLY could have done either or both, but I changed my mind.  So there.

Years ago, I thought I wanted to be a research psychologist and professor.  I burned out on that idea in Grad School.  Oh, Grad School, how I look back at you with much fear and loathing.

Nowadays, I’m focusing more on how I can make today and tomorrow better for my family and myself, and less on “when I’m all grown up.”  And busy learning that might be the best thing for me mentally.  And maybe partly because of my tendency to be in denial about my aging in the first place.

******

Katie Ann asked: “What made you choose a chihuahua?”

Honestly?  I HAVE NO IDEA.  I have always thought Chihuahuas are HORRIBLE little pests of dogs!  That they are annoying and really begging to be kicked across the room at any given moment.

And you know what?  I WAS RIGHT.

Heh.  Okay, the little jerk IS cute.  And sometimes he doesn’t suck.

******

Veronica asked: “When are you going to fly over and visit me?”

Tomorrow, Honey.  Better get your ass to the airport and pick me up. With chocolates in hand.

I WISH!  *muah*

******

Marylin asked: “Hmm, where and what would you do in your dream holiday?”

Anywhere I can Sleep.  Sleep.  Sleeeeep.  SleeeeeEEEP.  SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

And have wine.  Chocolate.  Cheese.

Then more sleep.

See?  I’m easy.

******

That’s it for today!  Stay tuned for more… and be ready to answer my questions, too.

“She” is currently midget-like, apparently.

When I showed off Fuzzball the other day, I didn’t mention “her” measurements. (We’ll come back to the “her” thing). The doctor informed me that she took measurements and they date the baby at 8weeks and 2 days (as of last Monday, 11.10.08).

Which is off, thank you very much, based on the “automatic” calculations done for pregnancy length based on first day of last period. According to that, the baby was about 9weeks and 1 day. It’s also off based on when I felt myself ovulate, September 19.

Ladies, can you feel it when you ovulate? Ever since the miscarriage, I felt it more precisely than ever before, complete with what’s called “Mittelschmerz.” There was actually a pain in the ovary that was releasing the egg, and I could feel it very distinctly.

On September 19, I was grocery shopping alone, getting really annoyed at the “mittelschmerz” pain while I tried to walk around grabbing food. John and I had sex before that day, not after (sorry for the TMI) so conception probably occurred on that day. Which would date the gestation at 7weeks 3 days on 11.10.08 – or with the arbitrary 2 weeks they add for your “Pregnancy,” we were at 9 weeks 3 days.

But she said the baby measured 8 weeks 2 days.

SO, they’re dating my kid a full week younger than I’m pretty darn sure she is, just based on size. Which I think is kind of weird. But to me it just means she’s small for age. And I’m hoping that’s okay.

Oh, and I’m measuring approximately “Fat As Hell” so far. I’m not even into the second trimester yet, but the growing uterus has pushed out all my old Muffin-Top Fat so I am nice and Poochy already.

Here’s a much too graphic photo of my midsection. Like my underwear? Yeah, baby, I live for TMI.

About the “her” and “she” thing – that’s just the feeling I have. I’ve felt that it’s a girl ever since very early in the pregnancy, and I have no really strong scientific reasons why I feel that way – it’s just a “feeling.”

Things that other people would point to for “proof” would be:

• sex several days before ovulation is more likely to result in a girl than a boy.  Supposedly, Boy Sperm swim faster, but Girl Sperm are stronger and live longer.
• Heart-rate over 140 is more likely to be a girl (the heart-rate was 180).  Oops, this is actually false, but is a popular myth.  There is actually no correlation between heart-rate and gender.  A boy is just as likely to have a heart-rate of 180!

Regardless, I automatically think “she” when I refer to the baby and it’s not because of anything in particular that I can describe or explain to you. It’s just… because.  I know, I’m being incredibly scientific and highly persuasive here, right?  Oh well.

I’ll let you you know after the 20 week ultie.

And if “she” has a penis, then we’ll all just know that I’m officially full of shit.

Second time’s a charm?

Once upon a time, I completed a workout video called “Drop it with Dance, w/Tabitha D’umo.”  I tried.  I really did.  The outcome was less than victorious.

I was SUPPOSED TO make Tabitha D’umo my bitch.  I said I was going to, and all.

Well.

Dear Lotus,

Who’s who’s bitch now?  Have you counted your fat rolls lately?  Have you MEASURED them?  I think Kevin & Leroy are actually bigger than your entire head by now.  You = Loser.  You, officially, get a FAIL on Not Being A Fatass.

Love,
Tabitha “You’re MY Bitch” D’umo

Can you believe the nerve of that woman?  Totally classless.

But.  Um.  She might have a point.  I only tried to use her video a handful of few times twice once after that first time.

And while I’ve done a few halfassed other workouts, there really has been no consistent effort to be physically fit, as I was hoping there would be.

And I have alllll kinds of excuses why, but really, it all boils down to one thing: Motivation.  If you’re motivated, the excuses just don’t deter you.  They aren’t good enough to stop you.

“My kid just won’t let me alone long enough for me to exercise!”

Um, naptime?  Bedtime?  Locking your kid in the closet for 30 minutes time?

“I’m just so tired that when I have time to myself, I can’t bring myself to exercise.”

News Flash!  If you’d exercise, you’d be tired LESS often.  (Funny how that works, huh?)

“I’m just so busy, there really is no time for exercise, honest!”

Now that’s just bullshit, sorry.  If you’re committed to something, you can find time.  Make time, even.

There are about 23,475,869 things on my To Do List that I am behind on, on a regular basis.  But 30 minutes?  Come on, just 30 minutes every other day?  We can find this, right?  Even if we have to get up 30 minutes earlier?  (Please do not wish me physical harm for suggesting that.)

You know what’s really motivating?  When you step on the scale and discover that you keep gaining weight (what, there’s no cap on how high that number is allowed to get?  crap).  Or when your “fat jeans” get tighter and tighter, threatening to become your “skinny jeans.”  FYI: your “fat jeans” are NOT ALLOWED to become your “skinny jeans.”

How about when you’re just.so.tired alllll the time, and holy flying pigs, did part of my side just fold over and touch itself?  Oh.My.Gah.

I, who never makes New Year Resolutions, actually made a resolution this year, and halfway through the year, I am totally getting a Big, Fat F on that.

I WILL NOT BE OUTSMARTED BY MY MUFFIN TOP, DAMNIT!

So today, I attempted the Billy Blanks Tae Bo Cardio workout DVD for the second time.  And HELL NO I am not able to hang with it for the entire time yet.  But I was incredibly surprised and pleased that I was still alive when it was over.  Both times, I have fully been prepared to die.  I had my will in order and everything.

I’m going to try several things in the coming weeks and see what happens.  Regular exercise (*whimper*), no more late eating (and I LOVE me some late eating), and actually sleeping at least 7 hours a night (is this possible?).

Revolutionary ideas, to be sure.

PS: Tabitha, I’m coming for you, whore.

You ask, I deliver.

Today’s PhotoHunt Theme:
Self (yourself, or part of you)

I have issues. It’s official.  This post proves it.



Lilacspecs “Triple Dawg Dared” me to show my unshaven pits when I joked about it on this post.

Then Madness said she wanted to see them too, and requested my hairy legs to go along with them.  (Incidentally, Sunshine also wants a leg hair picture.)

Allie actually challenged me to “grow a pair” and show my pit.  Whoa.

And Kat almost broke her desk, beating on it and yelling, “ArmPIT! ArmPIT! ArmPIT!”

 Christie, Shannymar, Mommy Cracked, Jennifer, Cate, MP, Scylla, Angela, Jenny from Mommin’ It Up!, Jenny-Bloggess,BusyDad, Dirty Laundry Diva, and Veronica all chimed in to support the idea of armpit posting, in one way or another.

Queen of Shake Shake accused me of making everyone wait because I had to grow it out!  I’ll have you know I took the picture the very next day!  (And no, one could not exactly braid the hair, but it’s past the point of stubble.)

Several people were clearly against posting the armpit hair.

Wright is scared and wants a warning (consider this it, honey).

Lou’s not particularly fond of pit hair, he says, and my even mentioning it brings back bad memories of nipple hair for him.  He  now claims I owe him a Rack shot to make up for that.  As if I haven’t given plenty of those already!

Rachel says she is not looking forward to the pic (but still loves me). *whew*

Bee Repartee “says no to armpit hair” even though she has a French name.  Do you also dislike cheese and wine!?  We should really just start calling you “Becky Smith” or something, you realize.

Karen MEG actually said I was scaring her and called the whole thing a threat! 

Some comments were a bit ambiguous…

Amanda said posting the pic was a tease, and she’d rather sniff my armpit.  That’s why I love her so much. 

Melissaz said she wouldn’t be able to sleep if I post a pic.  I can’t tell if that’s because she’d be too busy vomiting in disgust, or laughing in merriment, to sleep.

Taz just said, “armpit???  Girlfriend, does this mean you’re not familiar with the body part or are you just questioning my sanity with very brief typing?

Sandy(Momisodes) calls it a threat… but says that she supports me.  Hmmm.  I can’t read you, Sandy!

Karen said she thinksshe can do without the armpit hair… but that I have to if I’ve been TDD’ed and says she’ll cover her eyes… but peek!  MIXED MESSAGES, KAREN, SHEESH!

In the end, I have to go with the majority here.  I’m all democratic and junk, see?  And those who desire to see my pits (and legs), no matter how immensely disturbed they clearly are, win out on this round.

And really, since I’ve already show all of creation My Backfat:

My Muffin-Top:

And My Just Woken-Up Face:




What’s a few more gross pictures?

Remember, we all look like this. Admitting it can only make us more comfortable with who we really are.



So, with what will possibly be a little regret once I see how GROSS they look published in all their largeness…

Right Pit:

Left Pit, With BONUS DISGUSTING MOLE!:

Legs:

I hope you’re happy.

And that you didn’t throw up a little (or a lot) in your mouth.

Now, I seriously deserve your vote for Hottest Mommy Blogger. Because what’s hotter than Every.Single.One of the photos in this post?

I got yer hawt right here.

This week’s Showin’ Off On Saturday Challenge is brought to you by The Hawtalucion - the movement to become “uninvisible.” 

Dawn has challenged us all to put together one outfit from clothes we already own that makes us feel good.  We are to “step away from the sweatpants” and Get.Hawt.

Hm. Okay. Go into my closet. Find something to wear… that makes me look good.  I may have forgotten how to do this.

 

I mean. Um.  This is what I look like on any given day:

Except I put on a bra for you, to take this picture.  You.Do.Not. want to see The Rack unfettered. Trust me. I mean – if you were to do something awesome while I was sans bra, and my hands were full?  I could STILL get a nice clapping sound going for you just by jumping up and down. Let that mull for a minute.  Wait for it… wait for it… there’s the look of disgust I was expecting. Alright! 

 

Okay… going into the closet… be right back…

I did it! Got clothes from the closet! How do I look!?

What’s that you say? Ohhh.  They have to be MY clothes?  I can’t choose from John’s side of the closet? Darn. Ok.

 

So.  I guess these are out of the question, then, too?

 

Darn! I was having so much fun doing this….

Going back to the closet…

Ok!  I have got to be looking hot by now!  And these are all MY clothes! What do you think???

No way.  This isn’t flattering?  Hm.  I have clearly forgotten how to put an outfit together.

 

Sexy… I’m trying to look sexy, right?

So, should I wear one of these? Which one?

OH. WAIT. NONE OF THESE FIT ME ANYMORE.  Thanks, Kevin&Leroy and Pattie.

Ok, let me try one more time.

I went into the bedroom looking for these GREAT polka dotted pants I have… but I tripped and fell and this mess got on me:

And somehow, I think this may be what we were going for?

Wait!  Let’s see…Oh. Yes.  The Rack approves.

And The Arse doesn’t look half bad!

 

And the shoes?  Come on, baby. Yeah.

It’s a winner!

 

A Whole Lotta Hodge Podge, Yo.

So, for today, you get a hodge-podge of totally random crap, just because it’s floating around in my head.  Aren’t you lucky!?

Why yes, yes you are.  (Just smile and nod in agreement.  Don’t disagree with the crazy lady.)

So, first off, when I did the post with the video of Braden and the Bubble Machine, several of you asked about the bubble machine.  IT IS AWESOME.  Just my humble opinion.  Braden has loved it from the very first time we used it, and, I will childishly admit that so have I.  I’m a sucker for a bubble – that’s why I call them tiny packages of happy – and a machine that spits them out non-stop is a machine Momma likes.

It’s from Summer Infant.  I first saw it from OneStepAhead, but you can buy it cheaper at Walmart.  (Those last 2 links go right to the product, btw.)  I picked ours up at a local Walmart, so no shipping and the base price was lower.  I made sure to tell you about both, though: for the cheapies (like me) and the Walmart Haters (like me, but who aren’t cheapies).

***

Next up, I wanted to mention that “Operation Potty Familiarize” has begun.  No, we aren’t exactly expecting Braden to be Potty Trained at 15 months.  What we do expect is that familiarizing him with it now will make things much easier in the future.  And?  He has peed a nice long pee in the potty twice this week.  YAY!

(And do you care? I dunno. But I like to talk about poop and pee, so there you have it.)

We have this Baby Björn potty:

given to us by my sister (the one he’s peed in twice), and we just bought this Graco potty:

for its many cool features (like cushioned seat, easy to clean collection bowl, and removeable ring for use on toilet) and b/c Veronica at Toddled Dredge said good things about it in her potty review.

***

For those of you who are following my Hashimotos Thyroiditis Escapades from me revealing my problems to the lab work and how my vagina fell off, and then on to finally hearing back on my tests… the latest news is that:

1) I still haven’t paid my lab bill of $387.  Better pay it.  We’re about to incur even MORE expenses…

2) I FINALLY heard back on an appointment with the Endocrinologist (after waiting for only a week and a half – yay for prompt medical attention!) and I have an appointment scheduled for January 28th.

I would like to mention that neither my doctor, nor any of the nurses, have decided to give a shit that I walked into that office and told them that I have been feeling very depressed lately.  I was told that I would not be receiving an anti-depressant to help with that since the underlying medical problem could be the cause.  Of course, they didn’t refer me to a therapist or counselor of any kind either.  Just have to wait over a month to even have an appointment to get that checked is all… sure hope you don’t kill yourself or anything in the meanwhile… Is that responsible patient care? Just wondering.

***

While responding in e-mail to comments left on the Screamie McGee post on Monday, I found myself sharing a gem with a couple of folks (MP and Bill), and I decided I’d pass it on to all of you, because it made me chuckle.  So, it follows:

[As per Braden's screaming lately:]

John and I have decided that we are partly to blame.  Braden sees us yell when we get mad.

Me to dog: “NO! NO! BAD DOG! GO GET IN YOUR BED! LIE DOWN! STAY!

John to TV: “NO, NO NO… YOU IDIOTS! BLITZ! OOOOHHHH, THAT WAS A HORRIBLE CALL! I HOPE YOU DIE!”

Me to John: “STOP YELLING AT THE TV, DAMNIT!”

Both of us to Braden: “STOP SCREAMING, THAT’S SO ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!”

It’s like, uh, spanking your kids for hitting? Heh.

So, part of our battle plan [to rid us of The Shriek] is a kinder and gentler John & Lotus.  No more yelling to solve our problems.

Damnit @ kids making us be better people!

***

Are you clicking all the links?  Don’t make me record your ISP and find out where you live, only to hunt you down and obsessively watch you through the window of your home, while clenching a hunting knife between my teeth.

Cause, I will SO totally use it to cut through your cable line.  So there.

Now, go vote for me in some of those categories on the right sidebar.  Not because I’m threatening you or anything, but because you honestly think I’m funny, like my parenting tidbits, dig my photography, and find me to be a hot mommy.  Even though I have a muffin-top and backfat.