Monday, September 21, 2009

"I'm already pregnant, so what other kind of shenanigans could I get into?"

Have you ever heard of that book Letters from a Nut?

Well, I now present you with Letters from a Crazed Pregnant Lady:

Dear M,

Can you maybe change things up so that you don’t let the dogs out before you head off for your early (to me) commute? They are naughty. And a little stupid. So they bark at passing schoolchildren and wake me up. And then I have to yell “SHUDDAP!” at them in a way that is most indecorous. After having to yell at them twice this morning, I’m fearing that “Shut Up” might just be our baby’s first words. Not cool.

Love you,
Your adoring wife


Dear Dogs,

You’re stupid. Don’t bark at me like I’m some sort of intruder when I lock that back door before leaving for work. Oh and stop waking me up. Do it again and your walking privileges will SO be suspended! I need my sleep. . .

Thanks,
Your Female Person


Dear Feet,

If you could just stop swelling, that’d be really great. As it is, I hardly recognize you. I look like I have Hobbit feet for real now - the kind of feet that would make both Frodo Baggins and Fred Flintstone proud. I’d really like to not resort to wearing flip flops 24/7, but it’s harder and harder to squeeze you into my shoes. Plus you have puffy little pockets at the bottom of the toes which look like an ant bit each toe and it swelled in response. After seeing L’s feet at 10 days postpartum, I have high hopes that you will one day look like the feet I know and love.

Until then,
Me


Dear September,

Seriously, dude, if you’re not going to cool it with the temperatures, just go away already! I’ve enjoyed you, with your blissful (relative) un-busy-ness. And it’s true, to your credit, that the evenings are cooler and make walking more enjoyable than it would be otherwise. But, 90 degrees in the 9:00 morning hour is sooo August!

Still Schweaty,
Nichole


Dear Body,

I’m getting the sense that the now-popular question of “how are you feeling” will henceforth be answered in varying degrees of tiredness – Less Tired and More Tired. Thankfully, you’ve allowed me to sleep in my own bed for the past 3 nights. So, you’re officially Less Tired. You’re also More Sore and I’m totally feeling you – in my arms, shoulders, legs, and neck. Carrying a baby is getting hard on both of us, I know. But, do you think you can hold out until, like, Friday-ish? ‘Cause I have plans for a wicked awesome prenatal massage I think we’ll both like.

Please don’t fall apart on me,
~N

[Title quote is from "Juno"]

3 comments:

Jen said...

I love that even though you can't fit into shoes and you are tired cuz you have stupid dogs, you still have your awesome wit!

Kellye Wilcox said...

Love your post...so funny!

Jonathan and Katherine Earl said...

Love this post! I can totally relate...all of it is worth it when you see your precious little one, though.

 
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