The wheels on the bus

I once hopped onto a bus, deposited by fare, and started to look for a seat. But blocking the entire aisle was a gigantic plastic kiddie car — complete with kiddie inside. Parked next to the kiddie-car was a stroller — with a baby inside.

I gave the mother a pissy look for blocking the whole aisle, and had to squeeze past the parade of tot-vehicles by holding my bag over my head and slipping around a poll.

You have a baby, you need a car … right? So you don’t drive everyone else on the bus absolutely crazy!???

This concerns me, because you see, Darling Husband and I are a one-vehicle family. He drives me to work every day, and I usually bus home — as his hours are ever-changing, and his work is far away. This system works for us, for the most part. Sure, there are times when I bitch about having to take l’autobus, but I (usually) put on my big-girl panties and deal.

But throw a bambino into the mix, and I begin to worry. Sure, I can handle the bus (most of the time). And sure, I won’t be commuting every day with a baby. But how will I get anywhere with a baby? Like … the mall, to buy more onesies???

I used to look at people on the bus, crowding the aisles with their strollers and kiddie-cars and diapers bags, and think, Ughhh. But if circumstances don’t change, that could be me crowding the aisle.

Please move aside, people — my child’s annoyingly-large kiddie car needs to make a three-point turn!

A new kind of drinking game

Over the years, I have played my fair share of drinking games — everything from F–k the Dealer to King’s Cup.

But I was never prepared for the “drinking game” that begins in your mid-20s … and doesn’t end.

I’m not sure if it has a name, but let’s call it Maybe Baby. Here are the rules:

  1. Go to a bar with a girlfriend (or several).
  2. When she orders a glass or wine or a cocktail, you order water, juice, or pop.
  3. Her eyes will widen and she’ll say, “You’re not drinking? Have a drink!”
  4. You smile and refuse.
  5. She will persist, whining that she does not want to “drink alone.”
  6. You offer up a lame excuse (headache, stomachache, early morning meeting) for not drinking.
  7. She will sulk, then spread the pregnancy rumor faster than you down your OJ.

Whether you like it or not, this game is pretty much unavoidable when you reach the magical age that people start to suspect you could be knocked-up.
Even if you were never a big drinker, people will suddenly take “not drinking” to be a potential pregnancy giveaway.

Sometimes this game is annoying, and other times it’s damn fun. Until you really are preggers, all you can do is drink if you want to drink, and don’t drink if you don’t want to drink. People are going to talk, so you might as well do what you want!

P.S. This game comes in especially handy when you are around the in-laws and want to make them happy. Nothing cheers my mother-in-law more than when I stick to water — it gives her hope I might be preggo.

The knocked-up knockers


Darling Husband has discovered the magic of knocked-up knockers.

A colleague of his is preggers, and DH came home one evening and commented on her new melons.
“They’re really big, but she’s not fat yet. Like in the stomach,” he mused over dinner.
I suppose I am a cool wife (?) because I didn’t bat an eye.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that happens,” I told him. “Your boobs get really big, even in the first month or two. But it happens before your stomach starts to grow, so you just look really hot for a while.”
DH is intrigued! Score 1 for Team Preggo!