Tuesday, March 30, 2010

F is for FREAK!








Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Happy Anniversary...and silly unfortunate events...

My husband sent me a text yesterday telling me that he had a really stressful day. He said he just wanted to go for a ride as a family to see what we could see and relax together. The ride may or may not end in a trip to the ice cream parlor so he asked me to grab him an extra shirt. I got everyone ready, and we walked out the door to meet him just as he pulled in. He seemed very distracted, and he didn't talk much. We started dreaming about the potential of our "someday" house, and the next thing I knew we were pulling into his mom's driveway. I was super confused. I hadn't even caught on the entire way there.

He told me to stay put as he unloaded the kids. I didn't know what to think, but I shot a quick text to a dear friend.

ME: Dude...I think my husband's taking me out on a date.
FRIEND: SHUUUTUP!

As we pulled out of the driveway, he handed me the most beautiful love letter ever scripted. I had tears streaming down my cheeks, and then he said, "Happy Anniversary"! I began to frantically count on my fingers. It's been seven months since we were married. I never would have seen this coming in a million years, but it sure was awesome!

So off we go for a wonderful dinner at Red Lobster. We talk and giggle, and I am having the time of my life. We decide that we have just a few minutes before we need to head back to the kids so we stop to window shop and dream some more.

Halfway through the store the baby shifted, and I'm left with the worst, "if you don't get to the bathroom now you're going to regret it" pain that you can imagine. My husband points me in the direction of the bathroom, and I begin to waddle as quickly as possible. I round the corner at breakneck speed, and there is a bench across the hallway proclaiming

BATHROOM CLOSED: Do Not Use!

I waddle even faster back to my husband. I hop into the Suburban, and he races me to Target. We all know that Targets bathrooms are right up front and easily accessible. It's amazing how such a small little being can easily control my destiny in relation to my bladder. We pull into the parking lot and things drastically change. I start to literally gag and convulse, and I know that the inevitable is about to happen. There is rarely a day that I don't vomit, but I was hoping that today would be different. I grabbed a Dunkin Donuts box from the car, and I began to violently vomit. Allen doesn't quite know what to say, so he rubs my back...and puts the windows down. Then, he assures me that there is also a cup in the trash...you know...just in case I should fill the box.

We head off to get the kids after grabbing a ginger ale and dropping the donut box in a garbage can. We pick up the kids, and by now I'm feeling some what better. We get them each a small ice cream, and we snack together in the living room..after I've brushed my teeth and gargled Listerine several times. Orange sherbet doesn't quite taste the same after such a routine, but at least precautions were taken. I collapsed in bed, and I think I was sleeping before he even had a chance to say goodnight.

Moral to the story: There is no such thing as a romantic night alone with your husband when you're pregnant.