Momentous Moments in Momentdom

Michael finally got to feel The Bean last night.

Her new trick is acting like a lunatic at a mental asylum with padded walls--so she'll fit in well around here--and flinging herself and all her body parts against my womb. This is a fun addition to her previous repertoire of tricks which consisted solely of beating her heart (while appreciated, is fairly boring for us spectators).

For those who want to know about baby kicks, the best description I can give is: it feels exactly how I would imagine it would feel like if I swallowed a live fish and it was flopping around in my stomach.

Being a typical woman, she's been toying with Michael up until now. She'd be all practicing her break dancing moves and I'd go running to find Michael so he could feel her. He'd put his hand on my stomach in anticipation and she'd play dead.

I found this wildly funny. Michael did not.

But by last night I had it. He was going to feel this baby move because all the websites say he should be feeling her by now and we were not going to be behind schedule goddammit.

She played her 'torment Dad' game and kicked and squirmed right until he put his hand on my stomach. And I was not standing for this behavior another minute.

I got a big glass of ice water and downed that sucker as quick as I could to send a cold, arctic blast down into my warm baby growing facility.

Mom wins. (Hey, it's not child abuse until she's born, right?)

That jump started her and Michael got to feel her kick/punch/head butt/whatever it is she's doing in there.

It was this totally super sentimental, moving moment where suddenly everything in the room is bathed in God lights and angels sang and we were the perfect family unit. Our lives were forever changed and we're whole.

Sort of.

Not at all.

What really happened:

Jen: (feeling the third kick in a row) Ugh, did you feel THAT one?????

Michael: (jumping off the bed) Oh gross! Ewww. You have aliens inside of you. Stay on your side of the bed and don't touch me with your alien body...until after she's born. (Sneering in disgust at me and my stomach.)

Yep. That sounds much more like us.


And look! A special treat since I put make-up on today...a new bump (25 weeks):

Note: Chivalry is Still Dead

Since my trip to Boston this week was so traumatic, I made it a point to head to the grocery store as soon as I got home. I stocked up on big leafy greens, quinoa, apples, dried apricots and other assorted poop-blasting fiber foods. Damned if I'm going to get clogged up again.

And boy, was I pleased as punch with my shopping experience.

People were stepping aside for me, helping me grab the heavier items off the shelves, unloading my cart for me. Come on...you know it's nice to feel special now and again.

I ran home to tell Michael how pleasant my shopping experience was. And how nice it is to have people finally be able to see I'm pregnant and not just a potato chip junkie.

Here's how that conversation panned out:

Me: Wow. What a great trip. Pregnant ladies do get all the perks. I had guys rushing to help me left and right. It was really sweet.

Michael: [Being the ever-skeptical man...] Was it all guys or both women and men?

Me: Well, now that I think of it, it was all men. But whatever. They were very nice. [Does a little swirl in the new cute dress which I believe shows off my barely there baby bump.] And all because I'm pregnant.

Michael: [Eye-balling dress which he realizes shows off my ridiculously gargantuan boobs and doesn't even register the baby bump.] I don't think it had anything to do with you being pregnant...

How I Know I'm Ready to Be a Mother

At some point in your pregnancy, you inevitably hear "Oh, just you wait for motherhood...it's a whole different ballgame."

Oh yeah? I'm pretty sure I'm ready.

In my teens and 20s, I was convinced one was ready to be a mother if she could make Saran Wrap work properly (which I've mastered in case you were wondering). And while I still stand by that defining marker, I realize there may be one or two additional skills you might need.

Turns out, I have accumulated lots of skills I believe are immediately transferable to mothering.

Shall we...

• Clean cat vomit at least twice a week


• Pick up poop from three dogs, twice a day (and one is a Great Pyrenees...so he counts as four dogs by himself)


• Am woken up at least three times a night by said Great Pyrenees "guarding" the house--hey, you never know when that garbage can that's been outside the window for 3 years may suddenly decide to get cheeky


• Woken up at least five times a night by the cat who wants to lay in between my legs, then on my stomach, then by my head, then under my arms, then...


• Wrestle wriggling animals in an attempt to clean their feet, faces and, unfortunately, even their asses


• Break apart fights over food, toys, treats and who gets to cuddle mama


• Clean the entire house. Every day. Because it's trashed each and every day with mud, slobber, puke, and, well I don't know what that is, but it shouldn't be on the floor


• Take care of three dogs all day, every day, who leave me flat the second Daddy gets home

So, yeah...I think I've a got a pretty good idea what it takes to be a mother.

And because you stuck through this whole post, you get a prize! The first belly bump photo!!! Michael finally convinced me that I was moving out of the "just bloated" stage into the actual bump stage.

19 Weeks: