Alcohol Abuse.

My sister threw a Halloween party this past weekend.

And I just had to go and show off the most awesome maternity costume ever.

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Forget the traditional pregnant nun getup, the little guy and I are going as Mommy & Baby Skeletor this year.

Oh, yeah. And our bones glow in the dark. So cool.

The only other time I have ever been knocked up for Halloween was when I was pregnant with Kamryn and since I was only about 6 weeks along then, I wore this:

copyright - suburban princess diaries Know this : One day I will hijack my old body back.

This is the first time that I have been pregnant and showing for Halloween…so I was really excited to dress up the belly. Make that SUPER DEE DUPER excited.

But then a very bad thing happened.

We arrived at my sister’s house around eight that night. She had been out at a football game all day tailgating, so let’s just say that she was fairly intoxicated by the time we showed up for her party.

Okay, actually she was completely drunk.

Shortly after we arrived, I started searching through her fridge for something to drink. Unfortunately, there were few options.

Beer and Coke Zero were my only choices.

Obviously, the first one was out of the question, and since my bout with gestational diabetes with my last pregnancy, Coke Zero and I only hook up on a desperate, need-be basis.

I really did not want to settle for the lesser of two evils.

So, I kept searching. That’s when I found a 20 oz. bottle of Tampico fruit punch sitting on the top shelf.

Ah, miracle of miracles.

It was already open, but only missing a few sips. I pulled it out and asked my sister if it was hers. She said yes, so I asked her if I could have it and again, she said yes.

I poured roughly half the bottle into a plastic drinking cup and took a drink.

About two and a half sips later, some guy came over to where we were and started chatting with me and my husband. A few minutes into the conversation, he noticed the Tampico bottle next to me on the counter and motioned to my cup.

“Are you drinking my punch?” He asked.

“What? This is my sister’s.” I reply and then I turn to my sister and say,

“This is yours, right?”

My sister responds with a no.

“So, you are drinking my punch!” Random guy exclaims.

Yuck. I had just discovered that I was drinking after a total stranger. Heebie Jeebies quickly ensued.

All I could think about was how I may have just been exposed to millions of disgusting germs.

Yes, I am a total germaphobe.

Seconds later, another equally terrifying thought crossed my mind.

That punch had tasted sweet. Really sweet. A little too sweet.

I passed the cup to my husband and told him to try it. I explained to him that I was suspicious about it being only fruit punch. He couldn’t tell, so he asked random guy.

My fears were confirmed. Random guy had mixed it with some sort of green liquor.

The punch had been spiked.

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I unintentionally drank while pregnant.

I started to panic as the reality of what had happened sunk in.

I knew that I didn’t consume enough to amount to much of anything, but I was still a little freaked. I never drink when I am pregnant. Not a drop. I have had people tell me that a glass of champagne or wine is fine in moderation, but I think that it’s a risk too big to take. No one knows how much alcohol is “safe” to drink while pregnant. And knowing that a developing fetus doesn’t have the capability to metabolize alcohol the way an adult would, all I can think of is for every drink that you have, the baby sits for hours in a pool of alcohol-infused amniotic fluid.

It really scares the pants off me.

Plus, I’m not a big drinker when I’m not pregnant, so I’m not really missing much.

That’s why the accidental ingestion made me a little nervous. Until my husband helped me come to the conclusion that the few sips I took probably didn’t contain enough alcohol to even make it to the placenta.

Sometimes it helps to be married to someone so rational.

Then again, I still think I’ll be staying away from fruit punch for awhile.

Jumping to Conclusions.

I usually accompany my husband to my three-year old’s weekly karate class.

Last week, I decided to stay at home.

Oddly enough, people noticed.

One of the other dads even decided to question my husband about my unexplained absence.

The conversation went something like this:

Other dad said, “Hey, your wife isn’t here tonight, did she have the baby?”

My husband, completely shocked, replied “No. She’s only 5 months.”

Other dad, slightly confused, said “Oh, really? Wow. She looks like she could go any day now.”

Thanks, dude.

21 weeks along, and apparently, I look like I’m ready to pop.

Exhibit “B”

I managed to find the gender confirmation ultrasound shots for both of the boys.

I think it’s time for a little comparison.

Kamryn’s ultrasound:

baby diagram 2_edited-22

Bronx’s ultrasound:


Clearly obvious.

When you look at the boys’ scans, it makes the new baby’s picture seem ridiculously ambiguous. I think another ultrasound is a good idea at this point…

The Proof.

Ever wanted to test out your skills as an ultrasonographer?

Here’s your big chance.

I have the “money shot” from our last ultrasound.

And I’m going to see if you can see what I (possibly because I might be in a little bit of denial) see.

Or maybe you will see what the tech and the doctor (and possibly I) saw.

Then you, the jury, can render your verdict.

Trust me, I have some pretty compelling evidence here.

Here is the original shot:


And here is the image with the important parts circled, showing how the medical professionals determined that the baby is a boy:


It seems pretty obvious. However, upon closer inspection, I spied something rather interesting:


Do you see how the alleged penis lines up exactly with something that runs all the way to the edge of the picture?(Click on it to enlarge)

I know that I could be completely off base with this, but I’m thinking…


Anyone willing to give their expert (or not-so expert) opinion on this?

I’d love to know what you think.

I’m Loving Angels Instead.


Disturbing Behavior.

I am usually a laid-back, ultra-chill kind of girl.

Until someone messes with one of my kids.

Last week, someone unfortunately did.

And now, without further ado, I am going to go on a crazy mommy rant about it. (Grab a Snickers, we could be here awhile.)

Here is what happened:

kamspreschoolattack  (Dramatization of actual event)

Kamryn attends an afternoon preschool program at our local high school. Last Wednesday, Kamryn was bit (and I think also scratched) by this Tasmanian devil of a kid in his class. The teacher (who is supposed to be supervising the high schoolers who are, in turn, supervising the little kids) went out of her way to inform the parent of the little aspiring Mike Tyson, but did not make an effort at all to inform me that my child was hurt. Kamryn told me on the way to the car and I had to chase after the teacher and ask her if he was indeed bitten like he said. She briefly explained that he was, she had put ice on it and that the other child was suspended from class the next day. I wanted to press her further, but she was trying to shuffle some of the other kids back to their parents, so we loaded up and went home.

A short while later, when I was back in my kitchen and had started cleaning and bandaging the bite, I saw scratch marks all over his neck and face and noticed that he was absolutely filthy. It looked like he had been in an all-out playground brawl. So, I picked up the phone and called the teacher at the high school. I asked her about the additional war wounds that I didn’t initially see at the pick-up, because I was a little distracted by Kamryn pointing out the teeth prints in his arm. She had no explanation. I told her that I wasn't too shocked about a biting incident going down in a room full of preschoolers, but that I was really concerned about the fact that no one made an attempt to notify me of the situation. She explained that this has never happened before and that she didn't know what to do, so she had went to the administration. She said that she had planned to call me later that day.

Even if that were true, (and I don't think it is...I think she was just trying to cover her ass) it is still unacceptable to 1) not be prepared for this type of situation ahead of time and 2) to not have enough common sense to let the mother of the child who was injured what was going on, despite the fact that she went out of her way to come out ten minutes early with the offending child to let his mother know what was going on. Are you freaking kidding me? Obviously a bite can sometimes warrant medical attention and I would never have known if Kamryn hadn't told me. Any normal person would know that is not the responsibility of a three year old. Although, I am starting to think that maybe they were banking on the odds that maybe Kamryn wouldn’t tell me and then they would be free and clear of any liability issues.

What makes me even more distressed is that when I was on the phone with the teacher she told me that she didn't know how Kamryn got the additional scratches, but she admitted that out of 10 high school students and herself, no one witnessed what had happened and only one student discovered what was going on when Kamryn finally screamed. That is ridiculous considering there are only 8-10 kids in the class to begin with. Someone should have been watching.

The whole operation seems a little disorganized at best and now I am afraid that the children aren't being supervised properly. Case in point, the day after the biting incident, as the high schoolers were bringing the kids outside for pick-up, one of the teenagers turned the kid she was walking out loose as soon as they were out the front door without looking to see if his mother was even there. The kid dashed right out into the parking lot. Furthermore, the teacher is new (I guess she is replacing someone who taught the class for 30 years) and from what she has told me and her actions, I don't think she knows what the heck she is doing. I'm keeping a close watch for the remaining 7 weeks of the program...but if anything crazy happens again, I'm yanking Kamryn out of the class and I will be notifying the school administration. Until then, I’m more than a little bit apprehensive.

This is my first experience with problems at a school, and I know that this likely won’t be my last. The only good things to come out of this is that the biter was ultimately expelled from the class and I think that my phone call to the school made the teacher a little intimidated by me, so I don’t think she will let anything else happen to Kamryn on her watch.

I think the other kids may still be attending at their own risk, though.

Everyone is Having Girls, Damn it!


Except me.

Honestly, I wasn’t really all that surprised when the ultrasound revealed that we were on Team Blue again. And despite how gung-ho I was for a girl this time around, I really wasn’t as disappointed as I thought I would be.

In the end, you get what you get. It’s luck of the draw. And I am happy that we are getting another baby, regardless of the sex.

Much to my surprise, a few of the people in my life made comments assuming that I was taking the news of another boy pretty hard.

Someone even went as far as asking if we were going to keep the baby.

I know. My jaw dropped too.

To say I wasn’t expecting to hear that would be an understatement. The comment took such nerve, or such stupidity, that it completely threw me off guard. I thought that it should have been obvious -- the news that we had another healthy, 10 ounce baby growing right on schedule kind of overshadowed any bad feelings I could ever have about not getting a girl.

But I guess some people were expecting me to have a total crazy lady meltdown.

Contrary to popular belief, I am excited and happy.

Over the moon to be expecting this new little guy.

But my imaginary therapist would probably argue that I should take a few minutes to whine about not getting my dos equis. Just to get it out of my system.

Because it is a little annoying that almost everyone I can think of who is pregnant right now is getting pink.

Don’t roll your eyes. I know how stupid gender disappointment is. And I swear, once I finish writing this hissy fit of a post, I’ll be over it.

The only reason I am even the teensiest bit jealous is because everyone convinced me that this time around, we’d for sure be getting some sugar, spice and everything nice.

I was almost certain of it myself. I bought a pink onesie right after I got the positive HPT and I swore that the universe was sending me all kinds of signs that we were getting a girl this time around.

But here we go again with more snails and puppy dog tails.

Seriously. Three boys.

I’m starting to think that my husband only has Y swimmers.

Basic biology would argue that fact. I googled the subject and it turns out that all men make an equal amount of both. In case you are as curious as I was, here is a diagram showing how sperm is produced:

Spermatogenesis Source:

But I have proof otherwise.

I may be a little bummed that we won’t be buying dresses and hair bows (again!) and I may have also fantasized once or twice about finding out in the delivery room that the ultrasound reveal was wrong.

But, that’s about as far as my disappointment goes.

Ultimately, I know that the dresses and bows aren’t really important.

And I know that when I meet him and see how healthy and beautiful he is, it won’t matter anymore.

When I see him on the ultrasound screen or feel him kick now, I know it doesn’t matter.

Because I already love him.

Another Experiment.

Awhile back, when I was researching the accuracy of the Intelligender test, I came across a number of people who posted their suspicions about the product being nothing more than a PH test.

I wanted another excuse to play science lab in my bathroom, and it just so happened that I was lucky enough to win another test online, so I figured I would test the theory out.

The assumption is that a more alkaline urine sample will produce a boy result and a more acidic sample will produce a girl.

It made sense to me. The first time, I tested with my first morning urine (like the instructions told me to)  and considering that the only thing I had to drink the night before was water, it was plausible that the boy result could be PH related.

DSCN2350 This time around, I drank a ton of cranberry juice.

And here’s how the test looked right after I took it:


For a few minutes, I was convinced that the PH theory was confirmed.

But when I checked it at the five minute mark, (as directed by the instructions) it looked like this:

DSCN2353I’m pretty sure that it is not a PH test. I’m actually a little shocked that I couldn’t trick the damn thing. I should also mention that after I did this little chemistry session, Intelligender put up a blog post stating that the product is not a PH test.

I know that a ton of people have gotten the wrong result with this test, but it worked for me. And even though I know that it was a 50/50 shot, I still wonder if my baby boy factory oozes so much testosterone that no matter what I do, the test would scream boy every. single. time.

My husband swears that his family has an XY curse. His grandfather came from a family of six (OMG!?) boys and Matt is the oldest of four boys. I used to laugh at the so-called “curse”…

but now I think that it may be true.

First Scare, Second Stone.

I officially had my first pregnancy panic attack this week.

It was anything but fun.

I woke up with abdominal cramps and back pain that radiated down into my thighs. My legs were so achy I could barely walk and I was also feeling nauseous.

All are symptoms of preterm labor, and I am high risk for that sort of thing.

I tried to take it easy, hoping it would ease up on it’s own.

No such luck.

After 7 hours of resting and some Tylenol, I broke down and called my doctor’s office.

They asked me to come in immediately.

An exam and an ultrasound confirmed that nothing was really progressing. Baby was staying put for the moment.

The doctor prescribed me a muscle relaxer to calm my insanely irritable uterus and a pain reliever to help me feel better. He told me that I am no longer allowed to exercise (not even a walk on the treadmill!) and that I am supposed to rest whenever possible.

Rest? Ha! I don’t even know what that is.

I woke up the next day with the same set of symptoms. The medication didn’t seem to be helping much.

Until the next morning, when I realized that the preterm labor issues had disappeared and been replaced with some horribly familiar urinary problems.

I knew instantly that it was another stupid kidney stone.

What I didn’t know is that kidney stones can actually cause preterm labor.

Another mystery solved.

It took three days to finally pass that little rock of misery, which ended up being twice the size of the one I passed a few weeks ago.

I’m praying that there aren’t any more, but I suspect that there might be.

And that really freaks me out.

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