Another day...

So sorry for the lack of posts lately.  Yesterday I went to IHOP for breakfast.  It was a pregnancy craving that I could NOT resist.  I tried, I really attempted to find someone to go with me.  But such is my life, that I have no friends here in my new home that can share a meal with me and my husband is still overseas.

As I walked into IHOP ALONE, I realized, this is not a place for a woman to go alone. IHOP is for groups of hungover college students and high school seniors or senior citizen coming from church.  IHOP is not for a pregnant lady to come and eat alone.

After seating me at an unnecessarily huge booth, the waiter takes my drink order and returns promptly with the coffee I ordered.  He brings the little bowl of cream and sugar and I realize, I have to urinate.  I get up and waddle towards the bathroom.  Along the way is a group of three military men.  I recognize them instantly from the smell of booze that permeates their booth and their identical haircuts.  I know military men.  A tall black military man stands up and tells me "You look like you need a baby daddy."  I realize what he means as I remember that my ring is at the jewelers for repair.  I informed him that "I'm good" and continue on my way to the bathroom, contemplating a time when IHOP was NOT the place to find a baby daddy, though storing it in my mind in case DH chooses to leave me at some point.

As I'm pushing my way into the bathroom, I hear his voice loudly tell his friend "I'm in the Navy, I could give her that healthcare."

And I stop.  The need to empty my bladder is temporarily less important to me than figuring out if that line has ever worked on a woman.  I stop in my tracks, thinking "I wonder if that ACTUALLY works?!?"  Apparently it has before.  Is it that important to women these days, PREGNANT WOMEN, to have Navy health care?  (More on Navy Health Care, I'm sure, in upcoming posts)

So I continue on my way, do my bathroom duty and come out.  The whole table turns to look at me as I leave and I sit down and order my breakfast, all the while still thinking about the world I live in.

I don't think my husband would let me out of the house if he knew about the random things that happen to me, but this is my life.  RANDOM CRAP HAPPENS TO ME and I have no idea why...People say the most ridiculous things around me.  But most of it, I don't tell my husband.

The Interwebs return!

Dear World,


Today I had an OB appt.  For those who don't know, I am 15 weeks and 5 days pregnant with my husband and my first baby.  These are exciting times and I am due on Xmas Eve, of all days!  Now...today after my appt I thought about the name Noelle for a girl.  Noelle....for a Xmas baby.  Too Cliche?  


My husband and I had previously chosen Brynn Renee as a girl name.  Renee was the middle name of choice, though, as my husband didn't hesitate to tell me, it is also his mother's middle name.  It has come to be my belief that my MIL (mother-in-law/monster-in-law depending on the day) might take this personally, that our baby's middle name is the same as hers.  I don't need this happening, I don't need any extra issues with that.  Now normally I would tell a person to suck it up, or let them know how little their middle name had to do with my own choice of baby names, but in my DH (darling husband/dopey husband)'s love of his mom, sometimes little lies tend to slip from his lips.  I don't think he even realizes that he does it, but I don't want to worry that one day I'll overhear "yeah, mommy, she's named after you.  We chose her middle name because it was yours"...


Now my hubby, shall we call him a nickname? Haven't decided that yet.  The hubby doesn't INTEND to piss me off with his little lies, they just slip out.  He's thinking he's just making his mom happy, but in the end they just bug me to no end.  Such as the tattoo he got the day before our wedding.  He asked me what he should get.  I told him a giraffe, mainly because I thought he wouldn't do it.  But he did.  He told me he got a giraffe for me.  That was MY giraffe.  Not as tacky as a name tattooed (no offense to my readers, but what name tattoo have you ever gotten that you've looked at years down the road and though "yeah, that was a good idea"?) but this tattoo was a brand.  This tattoo meant he was ALLLLLLLLLLL mine.  That is, until we arrived to his hometown and I'm being introduced to his mother as his new wife. "Oh and by the way, I got a new tattoo, it's a giraffe mommy, because they're your favorite animal!".


Now you may be looking at this and thinking that it's no big deal but now, this tattoo that I had absolutely loved because it was purely MINE has become someone elses.  I now resent this tattoo...the one I chose for him.  It's a constant reminder of disappointment...


The point of that whole story was...I don't want that happening with my daughter.  I don't want to hear that one day and think "Goddammit, now how do I go about getting her middle name changed without her daddy finding out".


And that, my friends, is Shit I don't Tell my Husband.




Off to go think of better middle names.  Good night!