Let me just say, it seems I'm frickin' terrible at keeping secrets. Other people's? Fine, whatever, it's probably not as excitng as they think it is anyway. But my own? EVERYBODY MUST KNOW NOW!!
So I am proud to say, you all, my fabulous blog followers/readers/stalkers will be the first to know this long-kept secret of mine. Besides the Pills, the Walking Guilt Trip, The Princess, the Energizer Bunny, obviously the Unsupportive Louse, and a few select friends who water-boarded me/twisted my arm/didn't even really ask but maybe hinted in the right direction and I gave in. But you are the first ones I don't HAVE to tell, and I'm telling anyway! Because you are so special to me. Even more special than my Facebook friends. Or maybe just because this blog doesn't quite work as well without said secret being revealed.
So here goes... I'm pregnant!! (All females, please read this to mean - I expect lots of oohs and aahs and is it a boy or girls? and what are you gonna name thems? and traded pregnancy stories and birth stories and baby stories for the next 6 months or so. All males, please read this to mean - I now have an absolute right to be the biggest, mood-swingiest, crankiest, tiredest, manipulativest, demandingest bitch you've ever met, and you're still required to think I'm beautiful and sexy and sweet and loving for at LEAST the next 9 or 10 months.)
Now, for the real story.
This first trimester has kicked me on my flipping ass. I'm exhausted, I'm drained, I'm cranky, I'm moody, I'm just plain tired.
Friday night after work the Unsupportive Louse offered to cook dinner, and let me relax and read and go to bed early - I was absolutely in heaven. What a wonderful man, husband, father, partner, love of my life. So caring, so understanding, so perfect. He even brought home ice cream. My life is perfect. Ideal. A fantasy, a fairy tale. I married Prince Charming. Not even Cinderella is happier than me.
Two hours after I head up to bed to read in blissful peace and ignorance of the rest of the household, imagining the romantic things we can do when he makes it up to bed and I'm actually well-rested... the ever-present Mooch barges in to the room. "Hey, I'm pretty sure the Unsupportive Louse is passed out down there. I didn't want to wake him up." So he woke me up instead. Of course.
I groan and pull myself out of bed and head down to see if he's perhaps exaggerating the situation. It is, after all, barely 9:00. (In other news, the Energizer Bunny's regular bedtime is now 10:00 as he wakes up before the college version of myself went to bed if he falls asleep any earlier than 10.)
Turning the corner from the stairway, I see the Energizer Bunny expertly turning off the TV and DVD player with the remote (we don't even have cable, there's no reasonable explanation for his knowledge in this capacity.) He then informs me he just watched a WHOOOOLE movie. The WHOOOOLE thing. He is very proud of this fact.
And....slouched off his bean bag chair in the middle of the floor is the Unsupportive Louse. Snoring, mouth hanging open, drooling. The Energizer Bunny runs over to him and tackles him with gusto, climbs on top of him and jumps off. Repeats. The Unsupportive Louse doesn't move.
Spread around him is our favorite board game, the one we don't let the Energizer Bunny play with, ever... it's hundreds of tiny pieces out of their individual bags, spread from the TV to the window to the couch, the cards out of their boxes, all shuffled together, along with the tiny circles game board pieces.
On the end table is his "mystery cup." The cup he's held on to since college like a talisman of days when he could do what he wanted when he wanted and never have to hear a word about it from anyway. It's the cup he uses to steal illicit drinks. It smells of vodka.
The vodka bottle on the kitchen counter was brand new that afternoon, as is apparent from the crumpled receipt on the counter - ice cream and vodka. It's half-empty. In less than two hours.
Love of my life my ass. Pain in my ass is more like it. Giving me a night off just so he can get drunk? Jackhole. Falling asleep so the Energizer Bunny can get into one of the few things that are still sacred in this house? Dumbass. Building up my dreams of a relaxing night before making me put both the Energizer Bunny AND him to bed?? Stupid chauvanistic bastard. (I'm pregnant, I can turn on Mother Teresa if she looks at me funny out from under her halo, what kind of man would think this was a good idea?)
I spent all night cursing the man and wondering why I had ever decided to have another baby when really I already have two and am practically a single mother (I mean, for real, he can't consider himself a PARENT after this, can he?)
Luckily for him, he realized what trouble he was in, let me sleep in (he swore he didn't have a hangover...) made me breakfast, cleaned the house and even bought me "contrition shoes."
So I forgave him.
Personally, I think he's lucky he still has his balls. After all, I probably won't be needing them any more. ;)