Why You Should Always Help the Flailing Beetle on his Back or Why the Moon Crashed into Texas

Have you ever seen a beetle flipped upside down?  He struggles valiantly, all of his tiny legs waving in the air frantically trying to right himself.  

That’s how I feel every morning when I wake up.  I’m flailing around groggily trying to right myself, the only thing on my mind is making it upright and to the potty in time.  

I’m.  So.  Huge.  I’m massive.  The moon may fall to the earth, drawn in by my gravitational pull.  If so I apologize.  My bad.  

If I could stop myself from eating that second bowl of ice-cream daily I may be able to get a handle on this thing.  But…biology.  It WANTS me to eat.  All the time.  I’m insatiable.  And it isn’t for broccoli and rice.  It’s for ICE CREAM and pasta and anything full of yummy, yummy FAT.  All the books say to eat healthy, it’s for the baby.  SCREW YOU.  I’m eating this second bowl of ice cream and baby and I say…zip it!


At least I can’t overindulge in chocolate and fried things – the heartburn is SO not worth it.  I had pizza for the last time about two months ago.  I thought I was having a heart attack. So really the only thing I can totally pig out on is vanilla ice cream and pasta.  And cereal.  But pig out I do.  One bowl is never enough…of anything.  

I’ve broken down and asked the doctor what else I can take for the heartburn besides Tums.  (I was thinking 7,8 a day wasn’t good for the baby either).  I wasn’t getting any sleep at night and I figured the constant heartburn wasn’t good for my health, and in turn for the babies health either.  So I’m sleeping at night now and down to a pill at night and only about 4 Tums a day.  This baby better be born with thick luxurious Elvis hair…because…chocolate!  How I miss thee.  Caffeine.  CHIPS!  Pizza.  Jumping out of bed in the morning without the need of a rope and pulley.  

I digress.

So in other news we’ve given up encouraging Ellie to switch from crib to big girl bed but time is running out.  The new baby will need somewhere to sleep…so.  We’ve moved the crib to her new ‘big girl’ room, beside her ‘big girl bed’ in the hopes that adjusting to the room was the bigger step and moving to the bed after that will be…well…child’s play.  

So far she has shown no interest.  Baby 1 – Mama 0.  I refuse to force her to go to the bed – but eventually we will need the crib.  Baby will be here in November and when that happens any other change may seem like the straw that broke the camel’s back.  Better to get her in her bed and adjusted before the baby comes.

I want to be careful not to force her though, you only get to be a child once and I am loathe to make her feel like she has to grow up before she has to.  At least, I want her to mature at her own rate, and not because it’s convenient for me because of a new baby.  I know every mother thinks this but…she’s special and sensitive.  She’s already feeling the ‘change in the air’ so to speak.  She understands perfectly well something is about to change, she just doesn’t understand how or why yet.  

And, as always, just when I’m prepared for her to be upset and totally traumatized over some new change, she’ll probably just take it all in stride and I’ll wonder what the heck I got myself so worked up for.

So don’t do what I do, don’t create problems where they’re aren’t any.  And flip over that beetle every now and again will ya?  Help a beetle out.  I know I’ll never walk by another one without flashing back to my own morning struggles.

“Some women can’t stand being pregnant, getting big and bloated, and hauling around a giant stomach, and some women, for reasons probably understood by Darwin, Love it.”  Rich Cohen

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