Justin Timberlake; A Dream

This morning I had a dream about Justin Timberlake. Again, no, not that kind of dream, although Justin Timberlake..... might have been nice.

Anyhow - I was at some function that was filled with work people plus a few people from hula class and lots of strangers that in my dream I knew but I can't remember now. I was talking to this girl and told her that I needed to get a hold of "Jason." Jason was actually Justin Timberlake, but he kept switching back and forth from being Justin Timberlake and Justin Taylor Thomas from that Tool Time Show that was on a long time ago.  Justin liked to be called Jason on his off time. I told her that J and I were seeing each other, kinda dating. We went back to this dorm-type room and did a few shots of tequila together. Once I took the 2nd shot I felt bad about it. I'm almost 7 months pregnant. I should have only done one shot, not had two. I told the girl from work that I thought it was necessary to drunk dial Justin Timberlake. Trouble was, the only way we communicated when not together was to DM each other on Twitter. I wanted to DM him, but the two shots of tequila was keeping me from figuring out how to do it. I went to go find The Hubby. I found him in the kitchen next door to where I was  staying, hiding behind the refrigerator, grinning from ear to ear and  eating 3/4 of a lemon meringue pie.

How Are You Feeling?

People ask me a lot of questions and make a lot of comments. I guess it comes with the territory of being pregnant.

Questions I've gotten -
-You're pregnant again???
-Don't you ever want to have time to yourself?
-Were you trying?
-Are you going to use drugs during labor? (followed by judgemental and unwanted advice on the pros and cons of pain medication during labor)
-Aren't you too old to be having babies?
-Was this baby planned?

Comments I've gotten
-I thought you were done having babies. (I wasn't done having sex, so . . ..)
-You got so much bigger than when I saw you last month (because pregnant women love to be told how fat they're getting)

Depending on the person asking or depending on the question dictates how I respond.

If I like you, if we're friends, if we're family, I'm going to give you an honest response. I know that 99% of the time your questions and comments are well meaning and you deserve a thoughtful answer.

If you're a stranger on the bus, a co-worker I don't talk to very often, the lady standing behind me in line at Walgreens or a barrista at Starbucks, I just might give you a response you're not expecting. Most of the time I'll respond with "Why do you need to know?" or just roll my eyes and ignore the asker. Sometimes I'll give a smartass answer like "well, I thought about it long and hard, and since the baby was conceived on a table top video game, I think we'll pay homage to that. What do you like better for a girl, Zaxon Galaga, or Q-bert Tempest. Hubby likes Missle Command Defender but I think it's a bit much. I mean, we're not freaks or anything."

There is one question that doesn't offend me, or isn't even really out of line or too personal. It puzzles me, if anything else.
Why do people always ask the pregnant lady "How are you feeling?" The bigger my belly gets the more this question is asked in place of "Hi" or "Good Morning." How did "how are you feeling?" become the standard greeting to a pregnant lady? I admit that sometimes it's handy because I can make an easy get-away by saying something non-commital like "fine." Sometimes though I respond with "fine, how are you feeling?" But overall, it just puzzles me. When my co-workers I usually only come across in the breakroom or aquaintances I have ask me this, do they really what to know the answer? Do they really care about the heartburn and the gas? Are they really that concerned for my well being? For some reason, that question really perplexes me. I know it's people just being nice and considerate, not knowing what else to say, but it's just strange to me that it has replaced 'hello.'  If you said 'hello' to me 27 weeks ago, why can't you still say it? Someone asked me "how are you feeling?" the other day. I told her fine, then asked her why people always ask that of pregnant women. Her response was "what else am I supposed to say?" like she didn't know how to address me now that I have an alien belly. Just say hello or whatever it is you said to me before.

40 minus 25 equals only 15 weeks to go

Here's me.
Entering my 25th week of pregnancy.

The Little Chicken Pie, according to the baby website I look at most, is about 9 inches long and weights about a pound and a half. This week she's (yes, it's a girl) working on producing healthy lungs. That's why I quit smoking this week. Just kidding. I don't smoke. I tried a clove once when I went to see Dread Zepplin and Gay Bikers on Acid at some nightclub in Cambridge, England in 1990. The clove, along with the Malibu Rum already in my system didn't complement each other and well ... let's just say I haven't had a craving for either since. I do crave wine, though. I miss wine. I have a nice bottle of something yummy and expensive tucked away in a drawer in my dresser. In October I'm going to drink it.

Anyways, I'm pretty sure I'm in my 25th week. At my doctor's office, they'd say I was 24w2d. In my head that puts me in my 25th week. I get confused on the whole numbering thing. Human gestation is 40 weeks long, but that 40 weeks starts 2 weeks before one actually does any, um . . . Baby Making. Gestation is 9 calendar months, but it's also 10 lunar months. It's all too confusing to me. I'm sure it's confusing to a lot of us. Maybe the confusion is part of the reason not very many babies are actually born on their due dates. In my half-hearted, 15 second search for accurate statistics using a the default search engine on my computer, I found that only about 5% of all recorded births occur on the given due dates. 80% of the babies are born either 2 weeks before or 2 weeks after the given due date. That's a huge window; a whole month of "any day now."

I'm looking forward to meeting the Little Chicken Pie.

May Wordle