Multiple people have told me how having Joey changed me. I softened during my pregnancy, loving every moment of it and when I gave birth everything in my world changed. Ibecame this token of motherhood. I nurtured him even while he was in the womb, playing soft yet rockable music on my belly. And it has all paid off. Joey is beyond anything I could have expected out of a child, and I'm proud of the result - a kick-ass kid who (for the most part) behaves and is polite.
Why do I mention all of this? Well, today I was at lunch with Joey and the husband and we were talking about just stuff and things. I said, "You know, I think this pregnancy has really brought the..." "...Anita out in you?" he interrupted. Well, I was going to say "You know, I think this pregnancy has really brought out the bitch in me," but didn't want to teach Joey that word. So yes, I had to agree with him.
See, I'm sick. Not just a little "ooh I don't feel well and isn't it pregnancy wonderful" sick; I'm talking about dizziness, nausea, vertigo, headaches and all-around weakness from sun up to sun down. It blows. And even worse, as much as I try not to, the husband winds up taking a lot of shit from me and does more than his fair share around here. It's not fair and I've told him so but he is Mr. Wonderful and makes sure I don't do too much and go to bed early and is okay with the mood swings provided I apologize after them, which I do.
Yesterday I woke up sick and had some cold canned peaches for breakfast before heading out to meet my trainer at the gym. He may have worked me a little too hard for such a light breakfast but I figured I would be fine to do the grocery shopping and go home. Wrong. I was trying on some swimsuits (we're going boating this weekend) and found out after I was done that they had "tummy control" which really means no bueno for pregnant ladies' sensitive stomachs. So that started me feeling ill in the store but I had to finish getting groceries. Then I get hungry. I figure I can make it, it's just a couple more things. Then I get dizzy and I just about lose my shit because I don't know if I'm going to make it to the car without passing out. Seriously. So I come around an aisle and everything gets a little woozy and I hiccup and almost lose what little breakfast I had but accidentally made an audible burp and this lady, her bleach job and her manicure all look up at me in disgust. I [of course] said "oops! Excuse me" to Joey and restrained myself from letting that lady know her disgusted look makes her injectible wrinkle filler shift and makes her look 10 years older so back the fuck off if she wanted to keep up the facade she was still in her early 30's.
We went to Sears this morning and took our first studio family portrait and I was really expecting an awesome experience. It was the same studio I took Joey to for his Easter photos and they came out so great. We had a really rad photographer that time; she really connected with Joey and got some great smiles out of him. The photographer we had today, however, was a total amateur in comparison. She put us in such contrived and cheesy poses I at one point looked at her after she directed me to lay on my stomach, rest on my elbows and put my chin in my palms and said "I'm not doing that." Maybe that made her nervous and maybe not, but Joey smelled fear or weakness or a combination and was undirectable during the whole thing. The husband kept jumping in and trying to control him, only further confusing him. When the photographer tried to pose Joey to take a photo from above and was trying to get him to smile sweetly he put up his rock hands and said very plainly and in a monotone: "whoo." Yeah, we bought that picture.
So we're waiting to view the pictures and this chick has no fucking clue what she's doing because she kept calling another chick in to help her with the computer. I am sitting there just waiting and waiting, thinking about the poses I would have her do in case the ones she took really sucked and we had to do the whole thing over again. I was about to go and say something when she comes in nonchalantly apologizing for how long it took. I didn't say anything - she obviously knew it took fucking forever and I wasn't going to make her feel better for wasting my time. I was right - a lot of the pictures sucked and reeked of cheese. But we found a few we liked and even I was happy with the ones we wound up with.
As we were leaving the mall we decided to stop and have some lunch before we went home and the husband had to go to work (yes, on a Saturday). Which brings us back to the conversation that this pregnancy has brought out the, well... the Anita in me. Haven't you missed her? I am back. I will turn my nose up at you if you are obviously not wearing pants your own size. I will scowl at your dirty unbehaved heathen children. And I will definitely make sure I get what I know is right, fair, and (most importantly) what I want. So watch out world, the bitch is back and she fucking means it.
Isn't pregnancy wonderful?
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Welcome Back! Bitch Party of 2
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