You know what I’m talking about, those famous two lines that you see intersecting on a plastic stick at 5am while you’re blinking blearily through your glasses in the bathroom.
The ones that nonchalantly let you know you’ve forever altered history and the rest of your life. Sometimes a surprise, sometimes waited for, but always a joy in this house.
I saw a little pink plus sign about 7 months ago. And what a miracle it was! As I shuffled in my slippers back to the bedroom, I picked up Camera Guy’s phone and snapped a picture of the test for sentimental reasons (so sentimental that I took it on a cell phone. ha.) before waking him up.
Fast forward 7 months and here we are ( and “we” is entirely accurate you will find) on the brink of the last 8 weeks, in the midst of raging cravings, and becoming increasingly more aware of all sorts of odd habits we possess.
We. Yes, we. It is shocking how sometimes I think Camera Guy is the pregnant one around here. Bringing home bags of cookies, gallons of ice cream (I do not exaggerate, ask our ShopRite cashier) and pounds of Halloween candy. You can tell he’s trying as hard as possible to be empathetic with the hormone changes as much as he can. By the third time around now, it seems like he’s got more than the swing of it. Every meal is followed up quite promptly with cookies, then late night movie watching paired with big bowls of ice cream, accompanied by a glass of egg nog or an iced coffee… much to my jaw dropping shock. And forget it, once our visiting German exchange student (now an MD) pointed out over dinner last week that men actually do experience a hormone change related to food cravings during pregnancy… well that’s all he needed to hear. Now I’m not the only one who can pull the “I can’t help it” card.
Not that he’s the only one acting weird around here. Like I’ve recently become aware of a strange affinity for decorative tissue boxes I have.(We cannot have the blue box in the kitchen. The blue box absolutely must go in the upstairs bathroom!) Or the apocalyptical sense I have of building my toothbrush reserve. Seriously. By the amount of spare toothbrushes and toothpaste I’ve stocked up on these past few months you’d think I’m getting ready to leave for a dental mission trip to Africa. I was flabbergasted when I opened my linen closet to find 9 tubes of toothpaste piled up neatly, and 5 toothbrushes. And that was just the upstairs stash. Downstairs I had another 3 tubes of paste and a couple more brushes.
“My word.” I gasped “What is happening to me?”
And somehow it won’t stop. I can’t pass up the 88 cent toothbrush sale. It’s like a subconscious edict that bad breath will not be tolerated in this house. Or heaven forbid my overnight guests would be without a toothbrush and paste? I won’t be the one to suffer across from them at the breakfast table the next morning. No sir.
Lately it’s been apples too! Really! I see a sale on bags of apples and I’m sending Camera Guy out for them day and night. Another apple sale! Go sir, go! We must have that fruit by george, it’s only 99 cents for a 3 pound bag.
“We have 6 pounds of apples in our refrigerator! Why are we buying more?” CG tried to object as he put on his coat.
I looked at him unbelievably and somewhat crushed, “Because I might want to make an apple pie or apple sauce or apple juice!” I couldn’t understand why my logic wasn’t convincing.
That would have been the perfect scenario to use my “I’m pregnant” card if I had enough brain cells remaining to remember. Now I seem to reserve that card for seriously strange situations like shouting in my sleep, having insomnia from watching “Monk” or getting aggravated over bath robes with hoods. (Is it really just the hormones or please someone justify to me that it is incredibly weird to make bath robes with hoods? Why? Why?? I can NOT seem to get it. What a waste of fabric) (As another totally hysterical sidenote, I did Google “bathrobes with hoods… why??” and a link to the Klu Klux Klan popped up. WOW.)
Hormones or not, cravings aside…it’s always an interesting phase this whole being pregnant thing. And now, I’m going to sit down in my hood-free robe eat a huge slice of apple pie and watch some “Monk”. Oh and if anyone cares to drop in and visit, be forewarned: I just might be giving away tubes of toothpaste to all of you for Christmas this year.