1) Why is it that when you make the mistake of opening your big mouth to make a simple statement it comes back to bite you?
I went on a girls weekend trip to the lake that I had been looking forward to pretty much since Seth suggested I do it (thanks honey). It was so nice to eat, talk, and sleep my way through such a carefree weekend. Sometime Saturday night for reasons I can't remember I mentioned that Lila had never been the type of baby to spit up and that she had never thrown up. What did I come home to? A barfing baby (and mom).
2) Why do they make things for children that are supposed to help them so repulsive that they render themselves useless?
Due to the above mentioned situation Seth brought home some Pedialyte this morning after Lila barfed up the water and Cheerios I reluctantly gave her. I have zero experience with Pedialyte, but that's what the nurse said to give her when I called the pediatrician's office. I assumed it would be similar to Gatorade. Lila took one sip (diluted mind you) and promptly looked at me like I had just made her very bad day take a nose dive into torturous. She then went on the belief that I was trying to sneak the nastiness into every beverage I tried to get her to drink. I can't say she was wrong, but I'm not sure what choice I had. I even made Pedialyte diluted popsicles. As my paranoia about dehydration intensified my sweet neighbor Sonja stopped by with some toilet paper. That's what happens when you go out of town, you are massively pregnant, and your child is sick. You realize you have no toilet paper and yet no plan of getting any. She said to just give her food from the BRAT diet and see what happens.
Anyway, long story short I just ended up giving her five Cheerios at a time to see if she would barf. I gave her my water with a straw so she could see I was drinking it, and we have been in the clear ever since. Now we are on a consistent BRAT diet in hopes of a brighter tomorrow. And I have two jugs of Pedialyte if anyone wants it. It's useless.
3) Why is it that when your brain is telling you to accomplish anything and everything (nesting) your body is simultaneously housing what feels like a bowling ball?
I find pregnancy to be so fascinating. The endless lists of symptoms you could or could not have leads one to believe that every day is a mystery. It's beautiful and magical in an exhausting sort of way. I just find it ironic that when the point comes where you don't think you could get any bigger your brain wants to conquer the world. My mind is racing with things I want to accomplish before the big day. I would say 90% of those things can't be done by me. I can't go in the attic and get things down. I can't paint Lila's room. Of course, there are things I could and will be doing that will have to suffice. The other stuff falls on Seth...and I am doing everything I can to restrain myself from making the biggest "honey do" list ever.