ABOUT ME

About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.

Monday, December 27, 2010

But I don't want to know how a turkey feels

Happy Monday. I hope your holiday was all that and then some.

Here in Connecticut, we're digging out from mounds of snow. When I told Junior we got about a foot he asked, "Whose foot?"

Hah!

This is officially The Week of Diddlydoo. I've been a fucking maniac the last few days. I finally made Christmas cookies:



Just in time for...

...no visitors. Well, I guess I could consider Chuck a guest since he leaves his towels on the floor like our house is a goddamn hotel and yours truly is the chambermaid.

(Enjoy those cookies, you peckerhead.)

I packed my hospital bag. I packed Diddlydoo's hospital bag. I've also laundered 500 loads of laundry, bleached the bathroom floor, and last night, in a fit of sheer OMG-I-have-to-organize-something, I tackled Chuck's sock drawer and matched all of his socks.



I can't help it. I'm done working. I'm nesting. I'm freaking out about having a newborn and not remembering what to do with a newborn. My hands are constantly twitching. I'm surprised I didn't cut the cookie batter into a labyrinth of complex geometrical shapes just so I'd have to reassemble them.

What does one do while waiting for a baby?

Relax. I know. I should take lessons from our fat cat and just chill the hell out.



Or I should take the advice of my co-worker—who told me at the Mulletville Corp holiday party that semen ripens the cervix—and boink Chuck's brains out. (Do you know she also told me that if I'm not in the mood we could use a, um, turkey baster?) But that would mean Chuck gets to spend the week—this important, pinnacle week—snacking on hand-crafted cookies, enjoying matched socks and getting laid.

As if! The life!

What about me? What about my needs?

Oh, right. I'm the woman who spent my Sunday night playing with my husband's socks. By choice. My needs as of late are appallingly strange and June Cleaver-ish.

Maybe I should go baste something.

Eeeeeeewwwwwwww.

16 comments:

kyooty said...

It could be worse she could have told you to apply that treatment with an Oranage Juice Chaser....

Pricilla said...

Happy DiddleyDoo Week.

Jeanne said...

Can't wait to meet DiddleyDoo!

Nanc Twop said...

You're preggers & working fulltime
yet you're still the one doing:

the baking
the sock-sorting
the picking-up
the floor-cleaning
the packing
plus laundry ?!?!

Househusband Chuck would be fired if he was working for anyone but you. - You're a saint.

Mrs. Tuna said...

Strangely, the cat has a come hither look too.

Magpie said...

Cats lying on their backs always look ridiculous.

Here's hoping your baby shows up soon, so you can stop sorting socks.

VandyJ said...

I'm awful--I sort and match the socks when I do laundry--I hate unmatched socks. Here's hoping that DiddleyDoo shows up soon--then you won't be worried about the socks or anything else really, except DiddleyDoo, of course.

Frogs in my formula said...

I AM a saint. And, sadly, very much a workaholic.

The Mother said...

Most women clean when waiting for a baby (personal experience). I like the vegging thing better.

tootertotz said...

May Diddlydoo have a very merry arrival and you all have a fantastic New Year...as in 2011. I'm sure your New Years celebration will be rather low key this go round.

On the upside in 2011, you won't be pregnant. On the downside, you'll be sleepless. On the upside of that downside, you'll be chilling with a precious Diddlydoo while you're not sleeping so it could be a lot worse.

Take care of yourselves and shove one of those unmatched socks up Chuck's ass...then he can be working to push something big out, too, this week.

Now, plop the hell down and stop cleaning.

SLColman said...

Can't wait to hear that DiddleyDoo has joined the world :)

Jen said...

I can't wait til the day arrives. You'll remember what to do, just push and hope someone catches it.

Tell chuck to match his own socks or you'll be basting your own turkeys. I have no idea what that means. Good luck and I hope you get to spend a little extra time in the hospital so you can get some rest.

SmartBear said...

Holy crap girl...you need to re-frickin-lax! LOL! I have no idea what I'm talkin' about...I stopped at one. Hope all goes well and you get a little breathing room.
Best,
Tina

THE OLD GEEZER said...

Greetings from Southern California, USA.

I added myself to follow your blog. You are more than welcome to visit mine and become a follower if you want to :-)

God Bless You, ~Ron

Leanne said...

I need to do some nesting - my place is a mess. Sigh. Enjoy though, it's the last time you'll even think about organizing anything for a really really long time. Oh, and Happy baby delivering! Wow. Now that's an oxymoron - with a HUGE stress on the MORON.

Laufa said...

LOL the cat picture alone cracked me up, then I read some more.