Awkwardness De Outback

It takes a lot to embarrass me. 

I mean, like, maybe I just don't know the social norms and maybe I'm always saying embarrassing things and I just totally don't know it.  Ignorance is bliss, my friends.

And that's why it's so funny to me how embarrassed I get for other people.

You know, when they're saying something and you think, "Dude.  You should stop.  Like now."

I get so embarrassed for them that I can't even look them in the eye.  I look at the ground.  Sometimes I close my eyes.  I don't know if I'm trying to block them out or if I'm inadvertently trying to use my powers of telekinesis to get them to stop.

Last night we went to Outback with some friends - compliments of a $50 gift certificate from Marsh Waterproofing (thank you, Marsh!  I have no idea who you are or what you do but I love you and Merry Christmas!).

We had this waitress.  The one that kept telling us that she'd be back in "two shakes of a lamb's tail".  It was cute the first time.  Not so much the seventh.

She was also highly annoying in many other ways that are too numerous to mention, making the meal extremely uncomfortable - even for Husband, who loves watching Hell's Kitchen, which makes squirm.  I'm not even going to go into how uncomfortable The Real Housewives shows make me.

Toward the end of the meal she was sharing with us her tendencies when she's had too much to drink.

Friend Kyle, ever trying to be the friendly jokester (which is a good thing, because all of the rest of us were too horrified to speak) said, "Yeah, Erin's a lot like that.  Good thing she's pregnant and can no longer drink."

Waitress looked at me and shouted, "You're pregnant?"

Then, she stomped her foot and said, "IT'S NOT FAIR!"

All of us at the table froze. 

Oh crap. 

Kyle had just opened a can of worms.

She then proceeded to tell us that she just like totally wanted a baby like totally so bad but like her soon-to-be-fiancee had like totally had a vasectomy and so like they were thinking about "going halvsies (halfsies?)" on a baby (uhhh...what does that even mean?)

I was staring at the floor.

Because that's what I do.

There were all these thoughts running through my head.

Thoughts like, Ok, did that seriously just happen?

And, Oh, good Lord, please NEVER, EVER have children.

And, Your soon-to-be fiancee is either 1. An idiot  2.  Oblivious to the fact that you're the weirdest girl on the planet or 3. Both of the above.

And finally, Wait a second.  I'm eating dinner out.  I don't think I should have to hear about the viability of your soon-to-be fiancee's sperm.  Oh, and by the way, if Fiancee is shooting blanks, your chances of ever having a baby are like -100%.  Just so you know.

I was beyond embarrassed for her.

We hightailed it out of there as fast as humanly possible - after, of course, Holli got her free water-to-go.

It was easily the worst experience with a waitress I've ever had.

What about all of you?  Ever had anything funny/embarrassing happen?  Either as a customer or as a server? 

Please say you have.  I don't want to be alone in this.

I'm Pretty Sure I'm Wife of the Year

1.  I'm pretty sure I should be awarded Wife of the Year.  I've been planning to give Husband The Complete James Bond Collection for nearly a year now.  Since I'm going to be out of town for Christmas, I thought it was a perfect gift - he could watch it all he wants and I wouldn't have to sit there rolling my eyes.  My one mistake was letting him open it early.  Since last Wednesday it's been James Bond non-stop.  They pretty much all look and sound the same to me which really upsets Husband because each one is clearly different.

2.  Husband took me to see The Blind Side this weekend.  I loved it.  I kept tearing up but trying to pretend I wasn't.  And, there was popcorn.  I couldn't get it into my mouth fast enough.  And I don't even like popcorn.

3.  I bought my first pair of pregnancy jeans this week.  Not because I need them yet but because I live in Southeast Texas,  I didn't own a pair of jeans and I'm going home to the snow and ice tomorrow.  I had to buy the plus-size ones, which I'm pretty sure were made for a women with a rear end much more substantial than mine.  Not that mine's small by any stretch of the imagination, but I would hate to see what it would look like if it filled out these jeans.  And just as a side note, I might never go back to wearing regular jeans again.  Pregnancy jeans have got to be the most comfortable thing ever made - even if they aren't so attractive.

4.  My Christmas list includes a kitty.  And a house.

5.  I think the woman who teaches the Sunbeams with me hates me.  Whether or not I go to church depends on how many times I throw up while getting ready.  By the time I'm done throwing up, it's too late to call and let anyone know I won't be there.  I'd missed two weeks in a row and then just showed up randomly yesterday.  Naturally, I was totally prepared with a lesson - watching Up - which she would probably deem inappropriate.  Instead, she taught while I had to control Chris Farley.  I failed miserably and after he punched me in the gut, I was forced to take him to his father.  I don't know yet how they're going to change classes at the beginning of the year.  I'm really hoping I'll get to stay with my class though.  There are several of those kids who make my day.  And some that don't so much...

6.  Nearly everyone's off today in anticipation of Christmas.  And the ones that are here have been talking about deer hunting for the past 30 minutes.  I guess I'm really not expected to do anything today.  Not that I do anything any other day, but you know...

SAHM?

Last night Husband and I were debating the pros and cons of me staying home after the baby comes.

That's a lie.

I was listing what I'd come up with during my endless 3 am bouts of worrying while Husband was looking at me like I was nuts.  You know, that kind of debate.

I've always counted on staying home after we had kids, but now we don't know if we can do it financially.  You know, at least until we win the lottery.  Which will probably be tomorrow.

I also told him that I am kind of scared to be a stay-at-home mom.  I don't like cleaning.  I don't like laundry.  I don't like cooking unless Husband's in the kitchen.  And I definitely don't clean up vomit.  Even my own.  Good grief, I'm going to be a horrible mother.  Stay-at-home or not.

Plus, I told him that I kind of go stir crazy when I'm there alone.  I told him I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

Then he said, "Well, baby, you're already really good at watching Oprah.  What else is there?"

Ode to Zofran

So, I've been vomiting.

A lot.

In fact, between my visit to Convenient Care last week and my doctor's visit this week, I'd dropped five pounds.

Normally, I would've been THRILLED (when I told the doctor that, he said, "Well, if you lost five pounds a week, you might be down to a normal pregnant weight by the time you deliver.  You're not going to want to gain any weight at all because you're already the weight you would normally want to be at nine months pregnant...with twins."  Thanks man.  Really.)

But I don't like throwing up.

So the doctor gave me Zofran, an anti-nausea drug usually prescribed to cancer patients.  It's function is to turn off the ralphing receptors in your brain.

It's my new best friend.

I also have to take progesterone lozenges - because the doctor told me my progesterone levels are so low that my chance of miscarriage is 1 in 3.

Awesome.

As if I wasn't freaked out enough already.

The good news is that the compounding pharmacy made the lozenges taste like PeptoBismol.

And that equals delicious.

The Dreaded Doctor's Visit

I know I've said it before, but beside losing someone I love and failure, my greatest fear in this entire world is getting a pap smear. 

And snakes. 

But mostly the pap smear.

I don't know why I dread it so much, but it seriously freaks me out.

My doctor said this time, "Man, I've never in my entire medical practice had a patient as anxious as you."

And I said, "Well, yeah, you're touching me.  And I'm crying like a baby.  And I'm shaking.  And you tell me to take my time and relax but really what you mean is, HURRY UP, STUPID GIRL!"

Then I said, "You know, if you'd just give me like 1/2 of a roofie this would be a whole lot easier."

He told me to call him before my next annual and he would call me out some Xanex instead.

He said it would be worth it to him.

And not as illegal as slipping your patient a roofie.

The Reactions

You know how you picture certain scenarios in your mind?  And you picture how people will react to them?  I admit, I'm guilty of over-romanticizing just about everything - because I'm a Superstar Princess and everything that happens to my kind is supposed to be wonderful.

The reactions to me sharing the news of Baby Peters didn't exactly go the way I thought they would.  Here they are, recorded for all posterity:

Right after the first positive pregnancy test, Husband pulled into the carport.  I couldn't wait to show him so I ran out to the car and handed it to him.  This is what he said:

"Way to go, baby!"

And then he high fived me.

True, he was still buckled in and I had gifted him a stick I'd just peed on, but I was picturing tears in his eyes as he picked me up and swung me around, making remarks about how happy he is to be married to such a remarkably fertile female such as myself.

Nope.

High five.

Which in Husband language is almost the same thing.


About a week later, I called The Judy to tell her.  Here's the conversation we had:

Me:  Well, I was calling to tell you I'm pregnant.
Mom:  Oh.  Umm.  On purpose?
Me:  Yeah.  We've been trying for a little while now.
Mom (who, bless her heart, had seven kids in eleven years):  Oh, I guess I don't understand this "trying" to get pregnant stuff.
Me:  Why?  Because you spent most of your time trying not to get pregnant.
Mom:  Oh, ha ha, yeah, I guess so (nervous Saden laugh).  So, how do you try to get pregnant?
Me:  You have lots of sex, mom.
Mom: Oh!  Yeah.  I guess that would do it (more nervous Saden laughter).

Missing Information

I was so excited about my new, sexy pregnancy clothing that I apparently forgot to include some important information:

Apparent due date:  July 15th (although I think the doctor's a few days early...that makes me just shy of 10 weeks pregnant)

And yes, we've already picked out names.

If it's a boy we're going to name him Don Juan Carlos De la Vega Consuello Peters. 

If it's a girl we're going to call her Lolita Candy Cane Mermaid Peters.  We're hoping she'll become a stipper.  You know, we want her to aim high.

For right now we just refer to the thing in my tummy as "The Lentil".  And what The Lentil wants, The Lentil gets (including tacos, which are pretty much all The Lentil ever wants).

It's Out...

I just got back from the doctor.  This is the third time I've been to the doctor in two weeks.  I hate the doctor. 

But, that's where you have to go when you have bronchitis.  And sinusitis.  And double ear infection-itis.

All that, and now, this, too:

 Apparently there's a baby growing in my uterus.

This is news to me. 

I thought it was an energy-sucking alien life form that had entered my body through my right nostril while I was sleeping.

I wasn't going to tell anyone for a while yet - I'm not very far along.  But as it turns out, everyone I've told so far has told someone else and I have to blurt it out before my thunder gets stolen completely (the good thing about all of this is that I've found out that I'm not The World's Worst Secret Keeper).

I've been feeling pretty good. 

You know, like I mean pretty good although extremely surprised that my organs haven't voluntarily extricated themselves from my internal cavities due to the massive amount of vomit that has been expelled from my stomach and the feelings of fatigue so extreme you'd think I was a bear preparing for hibernation.

Oh, and the fact that my lovely lady lumps feel like they're constantly being held in vice grips.

You know, good like that.

Anyway, everything else had kind of taken a back seat as I work on my four newest hobbies:

1.  Trying to appear perky and upbeat without revealing that I totally just ralphed in the office bathroom.

2.  Attempting to not fall asleep at my desk.  Or under my desk.  Or in my car at lunch.

3..  Improving my ability to pee into a tiny cup.  Who knew my aim was so bad?  If I were the lab tech there's NO WAY I would want to handle the cup Erin Peters peed in.

4.  Not freaking out.  You know, like every 60 seconds when I realize, "HOLY CRAP, THERE'S A BABY IN MY UTERUS AND IT'S GOING TO HAVE TO COME OUT AND IT'S GOING TO HURT AND THEN I'M GOING TO HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF A WOBBLY HEADED BABY AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO TAKE CARE OF BABIES AND WHAT IF IT'S HEAD FALLS OFF AND THEN I HAVE TO EXPLAIN TO HUSBAND WHAT HAPPENED!?"

The good news is that I've been focusing my energy on good things as well, like picking out my maternity wardrobe:

Wouldn't I look simply smashing in this Kourtney Kardashian inspired pregnancy line?  And speaking of Kourtney Kardashian and Kendra Wilkinson (former Hugh Hefner girlfriend) having babies this week, am I the ONLY one who's worried about the promulgation of stupidity that just took place with those births??

A Conversation With Husband

The other day we received several lovely Christmas cards (including family pictures) in the mail.

I showed them to Husband.

I said, "Look, Matt and Kari and Denise sent us some Christmas cards!"

Husband replied (while looking puzzled), "Why?"

"Because they're our friends and that's what friends do at Christmas."

"Huh."

Then, I put them on the fridge.

So I could pretend I have friends in real life and not just on Facebook.

It's really bolstered my self-esteem.

What I Wish I Were Doing Now...

I wish I were back in Japan.  At an onsen.  I wouldn't want to share it with these monkeys, though.  Monkeys are cheeky.  And sometimes just downright mean.

I Hate Being Sick

I don't do sick well.

I'm easily the worst (meaning whiniest) sick person I've ever met.

This time it was a double ear infection, a sinus infection, and bronchitis. 

All at once. 

I don't think I've ever had an ear infection in my entire life.

Husband got the cough and the sinus stuff, too.

I blame the lady that came to work sicker than a dog and breathed on me.

But, as much as I hate being sick, there really is nothing like the first night you get to go back to sleeping in your bed after five nights trying to prop yourself up on the couch so you're not strangled by your own snot.

It makes being horizontal and still being able to breathe seem like a luxury.

The next luxury I'm looking forward to is having my ears pop.

I have very simple needs.


*Extra kudos to Husband who cooked up some beef stew, made not one but two trips to Walgreens for the right kind of Mucinex, and drove over to Convenient Care after work so he could be with me.  He said he didn't need to go to the doctor himself because, "he's a man".