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The Evils of Placenta Hustling

26 Mar

Okay, first of all, how totally awesome it is that I had my choice of THREE song titles that feature the word “placenta”? Pretty awesome, I think.

While we happen to be on the topic of placentas (best transition EVER), this morning I got a message from the hospital saying that the doctor reviewed my ultrasound photos and had some “instructions” and that they needed to talk to me today.

Nothing like an early morning phone message to freak you the fuck out before your coffee.

I immediately returned the call while simultaneously emailing Mr. Bee and Sissy and texting Arla-Shay to update them with the news. But I was totally reassured by the doctor’s office when I found out that the nurse/doctor/medical-talkin-folk were busy with another patient. Could I call back in 10 or 15 minutes?

SURE! Why not?! It’s not like I’m freaking the fuck out over here or anything? I’d love to stew in my “my baby is most definitely retarded and missing a brain and a leg and maybe an arm and how did they miss this on the ultrasound and oh my god this is the worst day ever and what the fuck is going on in there” thoughts.

After a tortuous 15 minutes, I called back the office and was told that for whatever reason, my doctor took another look at my ultrasound photos and deduced that I have marginal placenta previa. Basically, my placenta is too close to my cervix which could potentially cause some minor and serious bleeding issues.

The good news? The doc told me that I have to lay off the pushing/pulling/lifting/heavy housework (ha!) and…wait for it…no sex for four weeks until they can give me another ultrasound.

Somehow the lady didn’t think it was funny when I actually laughed and told her, “um, yeah, that’s not gonna be a problem.”

Seriously, she kept on reminding me “no sex” and I was like, “I have a doctor’s note to get me out of sex? AWESOME!!”

Don’t lie, I know you’re jealous.

But fer reals, I think the biggest issue is going to be not picking up Bee (and protecting my stomach from her random climbing and kicks). The little one doesn’t even climb in to her car seat by herself yet, so this might mean more home detention than I realize.

Well, I’ve gotta go and do, well, nothing, I guess. Who knew I could be even lazier than I normally am?!

Song title: The Evils of Placenta Hustling by The Bloodhound Gang

Crazy Bitch

30 Jul

Don’t forget to enter our very first Giveaway for free Tea children’s clothing!

For realios, people. You’re making it really easy for the two people who read this blog! Spread the word! Enter the giveaway! Win and give the clothes to me!

Geesh, fine. Keep the prize for yourself. Greedy, much?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Okay, today we’re going to discuss a little dark secret of mine*.

Mom, Dad, you might want to go read The Onion or Martha Stewart or something right now.

Go ahead, we’ll wait.

{jazz musak}

Oh shit, that will just KEEP my dad around. DAMMIT!

Alright, now that we’re all comfy and cozy, I have to tell you a little story about a crazy ass bitch that road raged on me today.

[Open on a one-way two-lane-wide road climbing a hill and about to merge onto a larger road]

Here I am, coming home from today’s doctor’s appointment (more about that later), minding my own sweet business listening to talk radio (shut up) and climbing the hill that leads to my neighborhood.

As I look in my rearview mirror, I notice a shitty white car zoom out in to the next lane (that is about to merge on with MY lane in a few cars lengths) for no apparent reason besides trying to be an asshole and cut me off.

Now, there are many more cars in front of me and some that are legitimately merging in to the lane. THOSE PEOPLE, I would’ve let merge in front of me. But this stupid girl (I won’t compliment her by calling her a woman), for no reason, zooms up and tries to cut me off at the merge.

Here’s where some background on me might be useful (*This would be said deep, dark secret). It’s probably easiest said like this: Don’t fuck with me when I’m in the car. ESPECIALLY when Bee is with Grandma so I REALLY don’t have any reason to be careful. Because, while I won’t purposefully insight road rage against someone, if you cut me off or are a total dick or are speeding beyond reasonable amounts, well, first I’ll probably call 9-1-1 because I’m a total narc, but next I’ll probably try to fuck with you and thwart your evil plan of evilness (trademark!).

So when this chick tried to be a bitch and cut me off, I didn’t let her. My car is bigger and way faster so it was fairly easy and non-confrontational. She, on the other hand, didn’t think so.

Needless to say, there were a few hand gestures exchanged (only one from me – guess which one). I was actually trying to be the bigger person and didn’t try to box her in or anything when we merged on to a road giving us two additional lanes. She’ll zoom off and I’ll just smile and wave and get back to my errands.

It looked like it was going to go that way. I stayed in the slow lane as she zoomed ahead, cutting off other innocent drivers (without her blinker, of course, because if you’re gonna be a dick, I guess you just have to give it 110%). On we continued for a half mile or so, me going on my way cars and cars behind her while she drove like a douche bag.

As we approached a stoplight, I was turning right in a right-turn only and, luckily, wouldn’t have to stop next to her because AWKWARD. As I passed, she shot her car out in front of me causing me to slam on the brakes so I didn’t hit her.

Oh no you didn’t.

Now this is where a normal person would probably just yell obscenities to themselves in their head (we already know how I feel about that) and go on their way. I made the poor decision to instead cut her off (slightly, albeit) to take another route to the store I was heading towards.

That, as it turns out, was a bad idea.

So this crazy. ass. bitch. starts following me.

The trouble is: I’ve got all the time in the world, a half-tank of gas and Bee chillin’ at home with the Grandma. How do you handle such a situation?

You drive around the block, through the store parking lot, over and over.

And over.

And over.

Because the bitch just won’t go away.

I figure, I could do this all fucking day if I needed to and, luckily, she finally gave up when I decided to take a tour through the adjacent parking lot and expand our little round robin.

But seriously. WTF!

I doubled back to fill a prescription at the local drive-thru pharmacy, making sure to be sickeningly sweet to the pharmacist in case he happened to just witness the last few minutes. As I was a leaving the parking lot, a local cop car pulled in and I am just crossing my fingers that they weren’t called on my (and crazy bitch’s) behalf.

Upon arriving at home, I was so full of energy and adrenaline (not in a good way) and I just knew that I had to get this story on the blog so that I could forget about it and that you could assure me that crazy bitch isn’t going to hunt me down and deface my car in the middle of the night.

Thank god for gated communities, right?

Song title: Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry

Family Scriptures

26 Jan

I just sat down and watched a few episodes of “17 Kids and Counting”, including “The Very Duggar Wedding” episode. Here are a few of my thoughts:

1. What

2. The

3. Fuck

No seriously, what the hell is going on with these people?! First of all, Mrs. Duggar’s baby hole must be the size of a manhole {rim shot} by now. Having so many kids is just, well, WRONG. The thought of having more than two kind of makes me throw up in my mouth a bit. Imagine having SEVENTEEN!?!?! Shit, make that EIGHTEEN now. Holy crap balls.

And those poor kids. The oldest children I’m sure never got to be that. Children. Even on the episode before the “big wedding”, the parents were commenting on how hard it was taking care of the younger kids without the older girls around.

But let’s talk weddings (my specialty):

(1) Wedding dresses with sleeves are HAWT.
Nothing says “I dress to impress” more than an ill-fitting wedding dress with sleeves. Because God hates shoulders, dontcha know? And while we’re on the topic of fashion, what’s the deal with this Anna chick being so matchy matchy? When Josh (Okay, I was seriously going to make up some random degrading name for the Groom – something like “Jim Bob” – until I realized that Jim Bob is actually the name of the Duggar dad. Really though? Geez.), Okay when Josh proposes to Anna, she and her mom are wearing matching shirts. Then, when Josh and Anna get their marriage license, they are wearing matching striped polo shirt! What is this, twin tolo?! Oh yeah, and let’s not forget that Josh proposed to her with balloons in like a T.G.I.Fridays. Keep it classy, Duggars.

(2) Spiral perms are so 1980s 2009.
Apparently the Duggar girls keep their hair long because “our dad likes long hair, so we try to keep our hair long.” Excuse me a second while I vomit up my lunch…

They also perm their hair regularly. I blame this on a prohibition of television that must have occurred after the last episode of Saved by the Bell. Jessie Spano is super rad, y’all.

(3) Saving themselves for marriage.
Okay, so up until college I was all gun-ho for the saving yourself for marriage thang. I even got irritated at women who weren’t virgins having the cajones to wear white on the wedding day. Oh yeah, I was *that* girl. But roughly 10 years later, I am somewhat older and wiser. I won’t bore you with the crude “you’d never buy a car without test driving it first, would you?” (oh wait, I just did. Sorry.) but let’s just say I’m supportive of people saving themselves for love, but maybe not marriage.

(4) Saving their FIRST KISS for marriage.
Really, though? Does this even require commentary from me?! Like you don’t have enough pressure on your wedding night if you’re a bunch of virgins; now let’s add kissing to the list. I haven’t kissed a ton of boys in my time, but I’ve kissed enough to know that you would DEFINITELY want to test drive that shit before marriage. {shudders with memories of horrific kissers in past}

(5) (Not wedding related, but oh well) Duggar Home Guidelines.
I couldn’t possibly mock all of them, but here are some of my favorites:
~ Don’t mock or put others down. (Aaaaahahahahahaha! Oh, uh, oops?)
~ Never argue, complain, or blame. (What fun is that?!)
~ Think pure thoughts (Philippians 4:8, Romans 13:14). (What do you think?)
~ Always give a good report of others. Don’t gossip! (Again, what fun is that?)
~ Amendment J.O.Y. – Put Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. (I won’t go in to my religious beliefs but I don’t think anything good can come of putting yourself LAST! Oy, people.)

Oh my God! I almost forgot the best part! The show was sponsored by the Plan B birth control pill! Oh, the irony! AAAAAAhahahahahahahahahahahah!

Lastly, because it is completely unrelated (I’m having one of those “start 27 blog posts but never finish any of them” kind of days), I am watching NBC’s The Last Templar right now and it sucks monkey balls. Mira Sorvino chasing down a Templar Knight on a police horse in a ball gown? Are you shitting me? I swear Sorvino is the worst actress EVAR.

But Scott Foley is yummy.

Oh, and PS: Don’t be like the Duggars. They are Crazy with a capital WTF.

Song title: Family Scriptures by Mo’ Thugs

What Are You Looking For

16 Oct

I was just perusing Google Analytics to see where you visitors are finding my blog, but instead I learned that three people have found Mom to Bee by searching for:

How to make a shiv

Seriously, though? What the fuck. #1: Where do I ever make a reference to shivs (is that the correct plural of shiv?) and #2: Why do I get the weirdos on my blog?!

Song title: What Are You Looking For by 7 Mile