Month: February 2016

The Musings of a Madwoman at 3am

3am: Pssst. Psssst. PSSSSSST!

Me: Yeah? What? Why did you wake me up?

3am: Because I’m lonely. Turns out 1 isn’t the loneliest number.

Me: Boo hoo. I’m going back to bed.

3am: That’s hilarious. No you’re not.

Me: Yes I am. I’m the captain of this ship. I do yoga. I will yoga myself back to sleep.

3am: Well that’s just stupid. You’re terrible at yoga. And you’d be a terrible captain. Your crew would mutiny. You’d walk the plank. You can’t swim. You’d probably get eaten by a sea turtle.

Me: A sea turtle. Right. Goodnight.

3am: Your financial future is unstable.

Me: Well that’s just rude.

3am: And you have a bag of rotting mushroom liquefying in your vegetable drawer.

Me: Yes. Yes I do.

3am: Don’t you want to take care of that before the baby gets here?

Me: The mushrooms? Yes. It is a little embarrassing.

3am: No. Your future. You should figure out a way to solve all of your financial shortcomings before the baby gets here.

Me: But that’s in like, 10 days?

3am: Exactly. So let’s think. And just to be clear, by think I mean worry. Let’s just lay here and worry until my shift is over.

Me: I hate you with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.

3am: You should channel that fire into worry. There are so many things we can worry about! Like the rusty undercarriage of your car! And bills! And Donald Trump! And breastfeeding! And how fat your armpits are!

Me: My armpits are rather sizable. And The Donald is pretty concerning…

3am: Flint. Syria. Declining manatee populations. The number of fruit flies in your kitchen. Your inability to remember passwords. Your mother’s Christmas present that’s still sitting on the desk waiting to be mailed. Also your cat is so fat she looks like a baby panda who is about 12 hours away from a juvenile diabetes diagnosis.

Me: SHE’S ON A DIET.

3am: When was the last time you did the Macarena?

Me: The what?

3am: You know, that crazy song from the nineties… HEEEEY Macarena! Aaay!

Me: The Macarena. Of course.

3am: I just ask because whenever I’m feeling down I sing it and it perks me right up. HEEEEY Macarena! Aaay!

Me: I’m not down. I’m tired. And I hate that song.

3am: HEEEEY Macarena! Aaay!

Me: Aren’t there other lyrics?

3am: HEEEEY Macarena! Aaah! HEEEEY Macarena! Aaah! HEEEEY Macarena! Aaay!

Me: Oh look at the time, it’s almost 4! So much for worrying the night away.

3am: I was just playing. Everything will probably work out fine. Maybe. HEEEEY Macarena! Aaay!

Me: Jesus. Stop that.

3am: Macarena Macarena Macarena…

Me: Go away.

3am: One last thing.

Me: If you say Macarena…

3am: Having a baby is going to suck. I mean have you thought about the logistics of this? The baby is so big! You are so small. Hahahaha, oh man, this is great. There’s no way this is going to work. Do you remember how miserable you were last time? 41 hours of labor. The time we spent together then sure was entertaining, you know, for me. You looked like you were drowning on dry land. Or like you were having an allergic reaction to shellfish, while simultaneously being possessed by the spirit of an angry breakdancer. I can’t wait to do it all again. And so soon! Oooh, I gotta jet. 4 is here. HEEEEY Macarena! Aaay!

Me: Wow.

4am: Oooh I love the Macarena! Also it smells like rotting mushrooms in here.

 

 

 

 

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Absolute Truths About Your Last Week Of Pregnancy

Congratulations. You’ve made it to 39 weeks. Let’s, for the sake of being the hopeful, positive creatures we are at this point, because we are desperate, call this the last week of pregnancy even though we know there is a chance it continues for up to two additional weeks, in which case you are off the hook for murder,* paying taxes,**smiling at the elderly and peeing on the couch.

(*,** It should be noted you are legally not off the hook for murder, or paying taxes, but you don’t have to smile and you will pee on the couch.) (more…)

Grocery Gauntlet: Comparing Four National Chains And The Likelihood Of You Getting Diarrhea And/Or Spending Your Entire 401k On One Meal

Grocery shopping. Aside from scooping soggy poop from the tub and scraping boogers off the wall, it’s hard to think of a worse reminder you are an adult. No matter where you go, some combination of crowds, cost and the Mad Max style parking situation leaves you frazzled before you even set foot in the airlock. But some places are better than others, and today we will compare four national chains to assess the likelihood you will leave with your 401k intact, and clean britches covering your bottom. (more…)

10 Questions Everyone Googles In Their Third Trimester

Pregnancy, it seems, is different for everybody. Some people love it, and glow like a dimly-lit wall sconce at a cozy Italian restaurant, while other people find their pregnancies about as enjoyable as eating an entire Italian restaurant, brick by brick. The differences between my first and second pregnancies were astounding, yet upon reaching 37 weeks (which is full-term according to the World Health Organization, and my weekly Pregnant Chicken email), I found myself submerged in eerily familiar waters. Waters that remind me I have to pee, again. Waters that make me wonder when my own water will break. Waters that swirl with questions only Google can answer. (more…)

Well Hello There…

Hello!

Emily here, extending a warm welcome to the lovely bunch of new followers who are here after reading my Dear Ovaries post that was recently featured on WordPress Discover.

I just wanted to take a minute and tell you a few things about me and my blog, Hold Me, Don’t Hold Me.

I started this blog about a year ago, with intentions of regaling folks with humorous tales of parenting, and making boatloads of money. I will leave it up to the crowd to determine if I have succeeded in telling a funny tale or two, but I can confirm with certainty that the boatloads of money have yet to find my dock, or even leave their original boatyard for that matter. (more…)