I'm Nearing Maximum Capacity

I'm slower, I'm meaner, I'm fatter, and doggone it, I'm surprisingly easy to amuse. I've learned a great deal about life during this pregnancy. For instance, did you know your boobs may need support when you sleep?

The Kush Support, used for a C cup or greater, is supposed to improve your comfort while you sleep. Now, I'm sorry, but I happen to have a bosom greater than a C (for now), and I cannot imagine sticking something so obscene looking between my boobs (while I sleep). I'm just waiting for SNL to do a skit on this insane device. And just for the record, what kind of woman wears something like this to bed? I'd venture to say it's not an autism mom...



So, between this, my neckline slimmer (which isn't working) and enormous maternity underwear, plus the fact that the stretch marks are a comin', there does exist a certain amount of hope that I could involuntarily send my husband into a permanent fetal position.

But what has bubbled up more than my heartburn and questionable choices in maternity items is the fear. I'm reaching the "terror" point of pregnancy. I have no idea what to do with two children (and let's not leave my husband out of this). Perhaps, once the baby is here, with enough rest and vodka, I mean relaxation, it will come to both of us...

My Age of Autism Article

I absolutely love Age of Autism. I'd like to take the time to sing their praises, but unfortunately, I have a mani and pedi to attend to, as well as my weekly beauty treatment and tiara cleaning. I guess I'll fit that in between mopping up my five year old's urine from a puddle in his bedroom and attempting to please everyone before attending to myself. For all of those unfamiliar, welcome to autism.

To sum it up, if I'm considered Autism's Bitch, Age of Autism could be thought of as Autism's Crack. It's that addictive. Visit Age of Autism to see why I love them. While you're there, check out my article: http://www.ageofautism.com/2010/02/where-is-our-help-mr-president.html#more

Have Autism...Will Travel

I took my last mini-trip with an only child who happens to have autism. This belly isn't going anywhere past the city limits...possibly EVER.

I have to say, I'm in a funk. Hayden is regressing. I have no idea why. His behavior is atrocious, and I am completely turning into a bipolar mess. I'm either quietly saying, "Hayden, no, don't do that," as he bounces up and down in a booth at Chili's while attempting to attack a light with a french fry (GFCF, of course), or I'm screaming at him, the dogs, my husband (and everyone else from God to the devil) and debating on checking out.

Back to my out of town (and out of body) experience. Please take into consideration that I'm not John Tesh, but I do have some freakin' Intelligence For Your Life to pass along today. Stop staring. Just SSSSTTTOOOOPPPPPP. I've always hated people who stare (well, except for men and that's another story which doesn't happen to me), but having a child with autism practically guarantees it. Yes, my son occasionally makes funny noises. No, he doesn't mind me. No, he doesn't need a spanking (because frankly, I've already tried that). I thought I was going to have to open a can of whoop-ass on an elderly couple today in Target. Unfortunately, I was so distracted in a futile attempt to control my child that I simply didn't have time to deal with them. And heaven help them if they had shared a negative comment.
I guess what I'm trying to say (for those of you who don't know autism, and that pretty much rules out most everyone who reads my blog) is to mind your own business (that is, unless you have a cash donation or extra set of hands to donate). If I've learned anything from autism, it's that I refuse to stare at any situation, no matter how strange. A child could be swinging from the light fixtures or perhaps a couple is getting it on at the table next to me. I...don't...care. Autism happened. Because after all, autism does travel.

Bigger Is NOT Always Better...

I'm going to attempt to go where no man should have to. This isn't for the faint of heart, but it needs to be addressed. I'm totally appalled by maternity underwear. There comes a time (if you gain enough weight), where even your panties cut your circulation off. I am at that point.

Since I have hoarding issues, I decided to look through my maternity crate from my pregnancy with Hayden, just hoping I'd have thrown some of my maternity underwear in there. Oh...my...God. Jackpot (perhaps). I found the biggest freaking underwear God ever made. Before you go sticking a mental image on my swollen figure, I'd like to at least say that I only wore/wear them at night. If I had a wreck in public (and where else would you have one?), God forbid someone find me in underwear that with a little coaxing, can actually cover up my boobs.

My philosophy is that if your panties are large enough to include snaps, buttons, or other such designs, they're too damn big. SO, my next project will include designing a new style of maternity underwear that I'm not afraid to wear in public. I'll attempt that task right after I put my big girl panties on...

30 Weeks and Counting

I'm strikingly similar to Humpty Dumpty. I sat down on the floor to put on a shoe (everything from the waist down has been terribly neglected) and couldn't get up. I weebled around for a little bit, feeling very much like the "I've fallen and I can't get up!" lady. Side note: Was that on a Wendy's commercial? No, perhaps an ad for HoverRound. I don't remember. Anyway, I thought Life Flight was going to have to come and get my ass out of the floor.



We got our 3D ultrasound of the baby. She's still breech, weighs about 3 pounds, and decided to show off her acrobatic flexibility by sucking her toe (and her thumb, but that takes so much less skill). Everything looked great and they estimated her time of arrival to be April 14. Right now, she's just hangin' out, enjoying her time as she beats on my bladder. She's gonna be a mess!