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hippie stuff, Innapropriate, Preg Stuff, Sharing, Vom stuff, You think you know but you have no idea

I say “vag” 30 times in this post and “Olsen twin” 4 times. Also I mspainted private parts. You’re warned.

November 7, 2012

I definitely took for granted last time that I didn’t have to go through the waitandsee bullshit of pregnancy. My water broke early and we were off. No, I don’t want that again, but this waiting and seeing is nonsense.

So today I had a midwife appointment and I let her “check me”. I originally said that is something I wouldn’t do. It’s not a reliable means of finding out if or when you are in labor. Or even if it will happen soon. But my situation is different. If my cervix doesn’t get off it’s lazy asshole and do SOMETHING soon, it’s c section time. So we checked.

And I didn’t sleep last night because of it. And I couldn’t eat breakfast. Because holycervixface, this is a big deal. And I was like B, are you nervous? And he’s like, about what? And I’m like, punch in your neck.

The poor midwife is like straight up *nervous* to stick her hand in my vag because I’m in tears and B is staring her down like, you better say something good or my life will be misery for 2 weeks. This was also the very first time her and my vagina met. So there were pleasantries exchanged like, nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you, etc.

So she checks.

And she’s making faces.

And she’s digging around.

And she’s like What’s that?


And she’s like, oh it’s nothing.

And she’s like ok. You’re 80% effaced but not dilated.

And she’s trying desperately to stick a finger in the cervix hole but it’s closed up tight.

So for those of you who don’t know (I didn’t). Effaced means that your cervix is getting thinner and softer. Dilation is when the tiny hole in your cervix starts to open up shop. I read that in pregnant women your cervix looks and feels like lips.

So this is what I picture my cervix to look like now. Warning, this is very graphic and accurate.

You know, like Olsen twin duck face lips. NOT opening.

What we need is this:

So that’s what we’re working on. Visualization of blow up dolls and the like. I read it or something.

The super good news is that worse case scenario, I will be induced on the 19th. But my midwife is confident that I will go into labor before then on my own. But she said “don’t quote me on the blog”. So I’m not quoting her on the blog. I’m just quoting her saying don’t quote me. Which I think is ok and allowed. Also yes, she reads the blog. I know….

But I’m feeling more positive and trying to stay that way for these reasons:

1) My water so far has not spontaneously ruptured. I’m a beaver dam for waters. Literally.

2) Effacement is good. It means stuff is happening and it makes me feel like I’m not broken.

3) I don’t have this looming imminent c-section threat hanging over my head anymore. No I don’t WANT to be induced, but I’ll take it if I have to.

4) I have an Olsen twin in my vag.

It’s getting close and I’m excited. I’m nervous. I’m ready. Also a snow storm is coming. So Yoshe was probably waiting for that. Just to make things interesting.

Also my doula muscle tested me for baby names. Oh you don’t know what this is? It’s when you hold stuff and they see how your muscles respond. I held paper with baby names written on them. Apparently she HATES 2 of the names, LOVES 2 and won’t murder us in our sleep over 1 of them. Hippies are the best.

Ok there you go friends.

I will keep you posted. Almost go time.

Love to you and your Olsen.


PS Please start calling your vag an Olsen.




I definitely took for granted last time that I didn’t have to go through the waitandsee bullshit of pregnancy.…

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Mom Stuff, Preg Stuff, Sharing

It’s vaginal awareness day and yes I’m VERY aware and so is my 39 week old baby.

November 4, 2012

Hello old friends,

It’s been a spell hasn’t it? In the time where you and I have sorely missed each other, I have become more pregnant than ever before, we have survived a hurricane, had our first successful child halloween, and celebrated B’s birthday and I’ve done these things without committing bodily harm to any individuals. This is an accomplishment friends. Through this post I’ll show you some pictures of things you’ve missed.

See, with G’s pregnancy I got to 38 weeks and my water was all, PARTY and broke. This spiraled into terrible non existent labor and a c-section. When I passed that point in this pregnancy, I felt so happy I could pee (non uterus water, just actual pee). However, I didn’t realize how much harder it is to be pregnant at 39+weeks. It’s no joke. It feels like my vagina is holding in a Chris Christie with a few strings and scotch tape.

And yes, we survived a hurricane. I literally thought I would 1) go into labor and have to have this baby by candlelight on the bathroom floor. And I wouldn’t even be able to tell someone to get a pot of boiling water because we wouldn’t have power. Not that I know what that’s for or anything. But even though I cried a little every time the wind blew, we made it with down power for a few hours and no damage. Other than to B’s ego. WHO DOESN’T GET SPARE BATTERIES FOR THE FLASHLIGHTS? B thinks hurricanes aren’t real. He told me he was most worried about having to get more groceries. You know, more than worried about our lives.

Now here I sit, hour to hour, day to day waiting for something. Anything to happen. I have had minimal braxton hicks. I stare at the toilet water every time I visit it for what everyone tells me should be a mucus plug. Sickness. No plugs or mucus. Just pee. So much pee. Our toilet paper costs have doubled. And I deal with the balance of doing stuff to make the baby come versus not doing too much to break my water like it did the first time. Because we are looking at 3 scenarios people…from best to worst case:

1) I go into labor on my own, with normal contractions and have the baby just like every other idiot on I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant. Except probably not in the toilet. But I’d take it if I had to.

2) I don’t go into labor on my own in time (41 weeks is my cut off for a VBAC) but I have dialated some on my own and get induced. I at least get a shot then at a vaginal birth.

3) I don’t go into labor on time, I don’t dialate at all and have to have a C-section. This would kill me.

So this week we’ll probably start doing some “stuff”. Sweeping membranes. Sounds nice doesn’t it? It’s not. It’s when they give your cervix a twist and a punch to get things going. I asked my midwife about all the other things. Like sex to get the baby out. She said that’s something that men made up to have sex. And that is why I love her. But really nothing is proven with the pineapple or the extra walking or the spicy foods or the playing Nickelback on repeat to your stomach (I’d climb out of a vagina too to escape that). So we sort of wait. And hope.

In the mean time I promised you a few things. First, the winner of the contest from last post: Winner you have a few days to contact me. If I go into labor, you’re on your own sister so make it fast….

The randomizer chose the winner and the winner is:

Rae Rae October 25, 2012 at 8:50 pm
Owen is obsessed with garbage cans, rubber bands, and string cheese wrappers. Who needs toys?

Email me at

And of course the Big Boy Room. See, I’ve been waiting for a sunny day to take some nice pictures. I know you’re like, F that MODG just show us the goods. But my designer worked so hard, I want the best possible pictures I can. And of course as I’m waiting for this sunny day, we get a hurricane and 9 straight days of death clouds. Even our sunny days are like sick and disgusting cloudy. So if I don’t get sun tomorrow, I’ll show you the pictures and be done with it.

So check tomorrow.

K. Love you. Please keep my vagina in your thoughts.



Shout out to fire safety. Love, G.


Hello old friends, It’s been a spell hasn’t it? In the time where you and I have sorely missed…

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Not Pleased, Preg Stuff, Sharing

I’m still here. Still pregnant. Still pissy. But now I hate fingers and pants.

October 25, 2012

Few things:

Yes I’m still pregnant. I’m still VERY pregnant. Not because I’m 38 weeks pregnant. But because I’m 5’2” and growing a 29 year old Khloe Kardashian inside of me. Body hair and all. When this child inches to the left, I pee my pants. When she inches to the right, I choke on my digested lunch.

As the CEO in the business of worrying about nothing, I am now focused to getting this baby to drop. Note: don’t google dropping baby. BAD. But here’s the deal: with a VBAC you need to dilate, even a little all on your own before you can have pitocin. Now I don’t WANT pitocin, but worry girl tells me that I’m not going to go into labor on my own and may need it. Pitocin only works if you have a ripe cervix (which is a nasty term. It’s not a plum). And to get that cervix ripe, baby needs to drop it down low low low. And she is perfectly happy where she is. What has dropped? A whole family of butt nuts. They are ripe and ready to be picked. SICK.

Um…what else…

OH the Big Boy Room. If you follow me on facebook, you know that I promised a big boy room reveal this week. Due to a lighting situation, that may not happen until Monday. Yes, a lighting situation. It’s a thing. Ask people who know things.

B and I are reading Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way. Can anyone tell me why the girl in the pictures is naked all the time? Like, “here is a woman in pre-labor, eating a snack. She is naked”. “here is a woman watching TV, she is naked”. I have said it before and I’ll say it again. I will not be naked during birth. No one wants that. NO ONE.

Things that are good right now:

American Horror Story. Yes and thank you yes.

Baking everything on Pinterest ever.

Mexican food.

Toddler naps. Always and 4ever.

Pumpkin anything. No I’m not over it.

Things that blow right now:

Pants. All of them. All the time.


Sausage fingers.

Convincing G to change his diaper like ever

So look for the next post to come soon which will feature the Big Boy Room, which I’m actually excited about and would be on the good list.

And to those of you who always think I’m in labor when I don’t post, I promise, I will post when I go into labor. Even if it’s just a one liner, I’ll let you all know that the door is opening.


For being so patient, I have a super awesome giveaway for you from one of our sponsors Alphabitty. They are the cutest company that does custom name art for kids or really weird adults I guess too. They are hand painted and totally customized to the child’s interests. So like, if your kid is like totally into Black Sabath, they can paint that shit up for you all death style. This would be such a cute shower gift too. I can say from personal experience that they are great to work with and really nice people too. But the best news is that they are giving away a print to a reader. So to enter, leave a comment and tell me your kid’s weird interests. I won’t commit you to choosing that for your print, I really just want to know weird stuff. I’ll pick a winner before the big boy room post.


Few things: Yes I’m still pregnant. I’m still VERY pregnant. Not because I’m 38 weeks pregnant. But because I’m…

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Awesome things, babies, Eating Innapropriately, Halloween, hippie stuff, Preg Stuff, Sharing, Stuff I like

You’re invited to my last pregnant moments in a dress. I photoshopped out my nipples. You’re welcome.

October 7, 2012

Yesterday was the last warm day in Philadelphia for a long long time. I consider this the sun setting on my freedom. However yesterday was happy for another reason because IT WAS THE DAY OF MAH SPRANKLE.



Yes you are correct. You see glitter pumpkins and candy. I could have died in a corner covered in crumbs and been happy. But I know you do not give 7 shits about my cupcakes. You want to see what I wore. Because I only made the biggest deal about it since that stupid Kardashian shoe club.

That is me. In the grass. In my slutty preg outfit. Complete with outie belly button and nipples photshopped out. My body looks like the face of a surprised asian girl. And you can’t see the shoes but they are leopard flats. To be fair to fashion, I started the day out in black leather ankle booties. That lasted 30 seconds. Literally. I came in and threw on those flats right away.

In terms of my rental dresses, I ended up returning the blue and the red and keeping the gray and the green. Which one got the final rose, was a last minute call. But I’m happy with my choice. I liked that my boobs weren’t in everyone’s face. And I’m proud of that gigando bump. Although I was asked if I was having twins. I chose not to choke her though.

The jewelry was a tough call. I rented a bunch from Rent the Runway with mah points. I wore none of it. Instead I got this gem from Bauble Bar. Their jewelry is cute and not expensive. Although it’s not ALL like super Kate Middleton quality. It’s more like Nicki Minaj quality. Which I’m ok with.

The sprinkle itself was great. We kept it really small and only invited people who I really wanted to be there. Also I have 7 friends total. So that idea worked out great. But my favorite part of the shower was my regular strength friends colliding with my hippie friends. I’ll show you some of the differences.


Non hippie gift.

Handmade hippie gifts.

Yes, I cried. 30 times. The hippies also gave me more cloth diapers and handmade jewelry with Yoshe’s birthstone and a card detailing the  magical powers that the stones will give us. Everyone was really jealous that they didn’t have hippie friends of their own.

We also painted onesies.

Non hippie onesie.


Hippie onesie.


Really, I can’t lose.

And now some more pictures just because I’ll never look like this again. EVER. Note to shower attendees: pictures here were chosen solely based on how good I looked in them.


Scrubs for G! Do you die? Get them here

And yes, this also made me cry. Because of the matching onesie that says “You make me happy when skies are gray”. (secret: B cried too when he saw it). Get it here

And that’s it friends. My last “thing”  until Yoshe shows her face in my lady parts. The countdown is on. We are at 5 weeks as of today. Thanks for virtually attending mah sprankle. Your presence did not go unnoticed.


massive modg

this also happened.


Yesterday was the last warm day in Philadelphia for a long long time. I consider this the sun setting…

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Confession Fridays, I hate everyone, Not Pleased, Preg Stuff, Sharing, You think you know but you have no idea

Blogging in the 3rd trimester should be on the no list with boozing and belly flops onto cement.

September 4, 2012

Where have I been?

I feel like I’ve been answering that a lot lately.  To be fair to myself and avoid any responsibility, I blame Yoshe.

Where do I begin…

Most of you have been reading with me from the very beginning. I love that, because when I write, I genuinely feel like I’m talking to friends. Again, this is #21 on the list of things to discuss with a therapist. But I always forget that there are those of you who haven’t been reading from the beginning. And thank Bravo TV for those people because that’s how this little blog gets bigger and fancier. But those of you who are relatively new don’t always get me, my sense of humor or my notgiveashit attitude. Which is ok. You don’t have to get it. It’s my job to make this blog a “get free” zone.

And for the most part I’m cool with it. I’m cool with the random super sensitive comment. Or the nasty one. Listen, I dish it, I better be able to take it. That is until something happened called trimester 3.

Trimester 3 is a tricky thing my friends. Well, I should say, this pregnancy with this child at this moment is a damn telenovela. I know this because every day at the same time, I see the same commercial on TLC for Medium where she tells that little boy that she’s talking to his dead father and I sob. FOR AN HOUR. EVERY DAY.

I know, why don’t I just change the channel? Why did I order leather maternity leggings?  Some questions really just can’t be answered. But what I’m trying to say here is that my emotions are not in check right now. I can’t handle anything. I’m REALLY angry at sporadic weather patterns one minute and I’m sobbing at my lack of Halloween costume inspiration the next. And this is new for me. Being preg with G, I was all…oh dead baby rabbits? Whatever.

So when we have comment wars or people telling me that I’m insensitive to Hungarian bakers who are middle children currently living in Detroit, I really can’t deal. And it’s not your fault. Like I said, I dish it. I need to take it. And “martinis” MODG could take it. Man could she take it. I read that old shit and I’m like, damn that’s a tough bitch. DG MODG is a flowery pansy. Well, preg with a girl at 30 weeks MODG is a flowery pansy. I’m praying things go back to prep punching normal after my vagina evacuates.

But I’m a firm believer on this blog in being honest, being me and telling you all like it is. So when I’m sobbing profanities into my keyboard, I usually make the decision to say nothing at all instead of ICAN’TTAKEITANYMOREICAN’TGOON.

But I’m getting to a better place. At least for now. I credit that to the best 70 dollar Craigslist find ever to happen to a human being. If you follow me on Facebook, you’ve seen it. I know, you’re totally like well, I didn’t see it because I have an app to block when people post furniture to Craigslist. (see? that’s me being moderately crass again. You’re welcome).


And after this melodramatic trimester 3 post, I will reward all with a full post on how to find the awesomest shit on Craigslist for cheap without getting murdered. It’s really gold.

Thanks for being patient with me. Pregnant chicks are the worst.




Where have I been? I feel like I’ve been answering that a lot lately.  To be fair to myself…

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Awesome things, babies, Dramababy, Mom Stuff, Sharing, Toddlers, You think you know but you have no idea

So really the point of this post is that I’d like to now birth a 20 month old. I’m fine with the stretch marks.

August 17, 2012

Sometimes I forget how much I complain on this blog. I don’t call it complaining though. I call it “self exploration”. HEAR THAT B? I DON’T COMPLAIN. But sometimes I forget to talk about the good things. And then I remember that some of you out there are reading this and going through the pregnancy stuff and the baby stuff with me for the first time and I’ve scared your eggs from every coming out of ovary hiding again. So this is something different.

This is an update. It’s an update for all of you out there terrified of having a colicky baby. It’s for all of you who are staring down the 9th hour of constant crying from your baby and wondering if it will ever end. It’s for you guys with a tiny toddler who hates everything and everyone. Everyone said it to me and I told them to blow me. But it’s true. IT GETS BETTER.

Many of you may remember this post, where I basically cried and accepted that my child is who he is and it may not be who I want him to be, but that’s not for me to decide. But I was never really like “cool” with it. I mean I wanted my kid to be happy. Who doesn’t? I wanted my kid to be cool and chill. But we all want stuff for our kids. We want them to walk sooner, talk better, share more, poop less, poop more, eat kefir and flax and recite the alphabet in Russian. Sometimes it happens but usually it doesn’t.

It’s because our kids are a tiny reflection of us. And whether we admit it or not, we don’t want the kid who acts like an asshole at the party. Because it says something about us. And I admit that. And I know that I’m crazy in the head, but so is B. So I kind of knew that G would be on the fringe.

But then it changed.

I am stupidly happy to report that at least right now, in this minute, today, G is an awesome kid. A kid I’m really proud of. Tomorrow may be another story when he throws his dinner at me, pees on the carpet and says no 432 times in 1 hour. But right now? We’re good.

And it’s not that he’s just some well behaved kid. He’s really happy. And that’s what I was always worried about. I told B last night that I actually thought he would be miserable for the rest of his life. Like a goth toddler. Which WOULD be cool in theory. But not in life. But G spends his days dancing to music, laughing a lot, reading, talking to me, singing and actually being affectionate. He gives hugs and kisses. He loves his grandparents and really just attention in general. And believe it or not, he actually listens to me. I KNOW.

But this blog isn’t brag-town. It’s about real life. I’m not here to say to all of you: LOOK AT ME AND MY PERFECT CHILD. It took a lot of tears and awful-ness to get to this point. And I’m no fool. I KNOW this phase will end and we’ll stare down the throat of the terrible 2’s shortly. And he’ll probably try to bury his sister in the tomato garden. But this time in his life gives me lots of hope for him as a kid growing up.

But I owed this post to you after post after post of depression, helplessness, and stress. I feel like we’ve come out on the other side. At least for now. And I’m ready to do it all over again with baby #2. And you know what? Now I know what the bad times are like but even better, I know that they end. And you should know that too. If you’re struggling like I was, it ends. The one thing I’ve learned is that it’s ALL a phase. If you’re like “my child is doing this crazy ass thing”. It ends. I promise it ends.

And this friends was my Oprah gratitude moment. Stay tuned for my next 57 posts of complaining before we get another one of these.

Happy Weekend,


MODG, YoShe and happy G

Sometimes I forget how much I complain on this blog. I don’t call it complaining though. I call it…

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