UNITED WE'RE PREGNANT

Our post Thanksgiving flight from Boston to Los Angeles was rife, rife I say, with problems.  

United Airlines decided to pull a holiday switcharoo with our airplane.  Because the flight was not at capacity, the airline just said fuck it...and they put us on a smaller plane and because of that everybody's seats were changed.  Meesh and I still had our ECONOMY PLUS SEATS (don't get excited by the word PLUS.  You're still in coach but you have some bragging rights over the lesser folk in regular coach.  You know when you walk onto the plane and you go through First class?  You can totally see how cocky everyone is.  I say it from experience.  Everytime I sit in First Class I get super arrogant and all of my flying fears are out the window.  Like you can't crash in First Class or if you do it's a more refined crash?  Well, anyway, you can kind of pretend you are in the poor man's first class in Economy plus.  You can flex your legs whilst the Coach Folk pass by en route to their terribly uncomfortable seats.)

That said, our seats were changed and we were not happy about it.  Meesh was very Santa Clausian pre-flight.  She helped a bunch of people who were also scattered all over the plane do seat swaps and the reunions were a lovely thing to see.  We thought, of course, all of that good Karma would come back to us.  We got on the plane.  Five rows away from each other.  I asked everyone around me (well, only the economy plus people because like...who would talk to a Coach person.  Eww.)  and no one offered a solution.  Then, I rang to call button.  The flight attendant told me to figure it our amongst ourselves.  The fuck is this?  Lord Of The Flies?  Lost?  So, I stand up and I say it...I used it..."My wife is six months pregnant!!  Is there anyway someone would be Thanksgiving enough to let a guy sit with his pregnant wife!!"

The two men in the exit row (even more leg room) behind me stood up and said "take our seats."  I was so thankful.  The only thing I had on me was a small bag of Sour Patch Kids but I offered them up as a sign of gratitude.  Suddenly I hear Meesh in a loud whisper say "Do their seats go back?"  I respond "What?"  Meesh continues "Sometimes exit row seats don't go back."  I said "Do you really want me to ask them that?"  Meesh nodded yes.  I did.  They said the seats do.  I could see it in their eyes "give an inch...take a mile."  Do the seats go back?  The pregnant greed.  

So, we sat in our seats.  Two plush seats.  Not a row of three...just two.  In a spacious exit row.  I could not understand why these guys would give up such comfortable seats.  So I spent the next 30 minutes looking over one of the guys' shoulders to see what he was reading, see if he was fidgeting or sweating and praying that he was not going to blow up the plane.

Happy Thanksnipples

Meesh's cousin Kim said "do you fuckin' love when he tweaks your nipples?"

That came within the first five minutes of Thanksgiving. Meesh went on to say "well...umm...sometimes I guess but..."

Kim swooped in with "Oh my God I love gettin' my nipples twisted, fuckin' bit on..."

Homemade cranberry sauce arrives on buffet table followed by stuffing and coogle (is any holiday involving Jews Jew-food-centric?) followed by sweet potatos...

Kim goes on "Ohhhh, are your tits senstive 'cuz you're lactatin'?"

Forgot to mention we are in a suburb of Boston.

Meesh says "Not yet I don't think. I think that will start when the baby arrives."

Kim's monologue continues with "totally, so wait...you do or you don't like when he plays with your nipples?"

Meesh "welllll...."

Kim "but you're tits are fuckin' huge..."

Kim grabs Meesh's tits.

Meesh "thanks."

Kim "they're like bigger than mine."

Meesh grabs a carrot from the vegetable tray and puts it in her mouth.

Kim says "You fuckin' love a big carrot, huh?"

The Belly Can Hear

Meesh informed me today that we have hit a pregnancy milestone.  The baby can hear. 

Things I will be doing from here on in:

1. Blasting Simon & Garfunkel instead of N.W.A. (come on, I'm a theater Jew - I've been blasting Simon & Garfunkel, Joni Mitchell, Dan Fogleberg and West Side Story since I can remember blasting anything)

2. Watching PBS at night instead of flipping from Real World/Road Rules Inferno to Half-ton Mom on TLC (would prefer my baby not even know that a human being can eat 10 big macs in one sitting)

3. Not allowing anyone who says "Like" and "Umm" and "Do you know what I mean?" near Meesh's belly. 

4. Keeping annoying people very far away so as not to give the baby the option of thinking we are lame as that will obviously come in due time.

5. Bringing the belly around as many funny Jewish people, Black people and British people as possible as I find those people to have the best comic timing.

6.  Religious people...sorry, can't come round.  Don't want the baby to hear preaching.  

7.  Marianne Williamson can preach because I like her voice.  She has a great timber.  As does Suze Orman.  Rachel Maddow.  Chris Matthews is in.  No more The View.  Letterman, Stewart and Maher are in.  Sorry, Colbert is out because the baby might take his fake-republican persona literally.

8.  There was a man I knew years ago with a bubble in his throat.  A permanent throat bubble.  He can't come round as I don't want the baby to think we hang out with frogs.  However, on second thought, I do want the baby to have an endless imagination and that includes the belief animals talk so I guess I have to do a Facebook search for Bubble Throat.  

9.  If the baby could smell I would not allow Meesh anywhere near the Hasidic household down the street.  It's just that one household.  I am not in any way making a sweeping statement.  Those are my "people."  Well, not really.  I'm only a conservative Jew so as I've said before, I'm Irish-Catholic to them.

10.  I will continue to tell Meesh that she is the MOST, the bees to my knees, the light in my otherwise dark, dark night.  I will, however, stop telling her that I would love to hump her and play with her pregnant boobs.

Blame It On The Belly

No wonder that Man from all the talk shows likes being pregnant. Who wouldn't want to be able to NOT BE ACCOUNTABLE for anything? Being preg is like a get out of jail free card. Yeah yeah...all the cliches - eat what you want, sleep when you want, get massages, be the center of attention, complain all the time or not complain all the time. When preg you can be annoying or not be annoying. Bitchy or not bitchy. My point is, it is the best VIP pass in the world. It is the EZ pass of physical living. Baby in belly means you can be or do anything and it's all good...you're pregnant. Men with vaginas really have a leg up on those of us with lame cock and balls.

I would love to get knocked up by Meesh. I know what you're about to snarkily say..."ohhhh reallyy???!! You want the swelling? the indigestion? the mood swings? the aches, pains and pelvic expansion?!" For jokes sake I would respond "Already got those things...I'm Jewish. Not just Jewish. I'm Ashkenaze (I don't know how to spell it and I don't know what the fuck it means)." But my real response would be "hells yeah...I'll take your aches, pains and tit growth and raise you some sensitive nipples." I would like to have an excuse for being a dick head to those that annoy me. Really. Truly. I want an excuse for it because as of now I don't have one.

Meesh can basically tell someone to shut the fuck up and eat shit and simply say "sorry, I'm pregnant." If I was preg I would ring up everyone I loathe and say things like "you suck ass bunghole fuck hole" and then i would get all cute and coy and pull my sleeves over my hands ala Jennifer Love Hewitt and other falsely-humble girls and say "I'm just wicked pregnant!"

Driving To Alanis

Meesh's long week plus my long week equals...drumroll, please...ARGUMENT!

Right before we left the house last night to go to Alanis Morissette's concert, Meesh said "I have an early morning and I can't be out until 1 a.m."

Well, I thought, what praytell is she really saying? The concert begins at 8 (opening act Alexi Murdoch...a super mellow folk singer) and then Alanis goes on. 1 a.m.? We are going to the Orpheum theater and sitting in proper seats. To see Alanis. 1 a.m.? Not Metallica. There is no raging after party. Just a handful of introspective Alanis-y songs.

I kept hearing 1 a.m. as I drove toward the Orpheum theater. So I did it...did what I should not have done. I asked "What are you REALLY saying when you say 1 a.m.?" Tension begins. "I'm saying that I have to get up extra early for work and that I can't be up until 1 a.m." I respond "I get that, but do you really think we are going to be out that late?" She says "If you want to stay I can take a cab." WOAH!! I say "Can't we just go to the concert and see what we are feeling? Can't we go before we leave?" 1 a.m.? That is like saying "I know we are going to hear Marianne Williamson speak but I just don't want to rage."

I then took it too far. "I've had a long week. I was so looking forward to going to a concert with you and just having fun. And it feels like you are already giving our evening guidelines." UH-OH. "I have a job (stab-i currently do not) and I'm pregnant (double stab- i am not currently pregnant.)" Well, I thought, thank God she told me she was pregnant. I was wondering why the growing belly, all the UPS packages from maternity stores, the donut cravings. We continued to bitch at each other for a few more minutes. I think we both wanted to be mad at someone for the overwhelming week we both had. So going to an early concert at a proper venue is as good a hook for arguing as any.

Got to the concert. I got a beer. Meesh got a coke. A COKE!! A coca-cola. Concert ended at 10:30. Home by 11. Because of the Coke, Meesh didn't fall asleep until 1:45 a.m. Are you laughing?

I'm Maternity, I'm Maternity, I'm Maternity Girl (Livin' In A Maternity World)

I almost bitch slapped a jealous pregnant woman at Gap Maternity today. I walked up through the baby clothes, past the teddy bears and straight on in to the pregnancy section. There was Meesh all glowing and shit. Holding a little black dress...err...holding a BIG black dress up to her body (and by Big I mean Maternity BIG, not *Ruby BIG) when out the corner of my eye - yeah, I said "OUT the corner" - I am intentionally leaving words out so as to sound more rougher and junk. So, I 0ut my eye's corner I see this couple. She's pregnant. He looks suicidal. The story I built for them was this: He hates her but married her because it was easier than breaking up with her and now she is having his child and he is counting down the days until he AXES her for divorce. That said, the bitch was looking Meesh up and down giving her the evil eye and shit. If only Meesh had on her Kabballah string...none of that would have happened. Or like Wonder Woman's wrist cuffs, Meesh could have deflected the evil eye and then Rammmmmmed (sound effect of Wonder Woman jump) out of Gap and into the Grove fountain.

Why was this preg bitch hating on Meesh? Not sure. But I will throw this question out there? What happens to a bitchy girl when she gets pregnant? She becomes a bitchy pregnant girl. The more preg people I meet the more I am understanding that growing a baby inside of you does not necessarily make you kinder or more loving...more compassionate or funnier...it kind of just makes you a bigger version of who you already is! Yup, I said IS.

*Ruby is that show airing on Style Network about the 700 pound woman who goes on a quest to become 150 pounds. Yeah, I programmed my Tivo.

Her Bump, Her Bump, Her Lovely Lady Bump

Let me say this first...there is nothing more beautiful than a pregnant woman. My wife especially. Phew, that's out the way!

This morning whilst trying on her fifth outfit, Meesh said "Oh my God, my belly got so big overnight. Must've been the Mexican food."

You see, we went to a birthday party last night. A mexican-fiesta birthday party. And Meesh ate a cute, little plate of food: one corn tortilla (the mini kind) some shredded lettuce (iceberg) and some fix-ins (black beans, sour cream, guac). And then for dessert a small scoop of vanilla yogurt and a piece of chocolate chip cookie.

Um, babe, your belly didn't grow overnight because of the Mexican food. It grew, shot in the dark here, because you are getting very pregnant.

Well, lesson learned. Let her believe it was the Mexican food. Not the baby growing in the belly. Why? Because this was her response to my intimating it could be, may just be the baby.

"Matt, you don't know what it's like to keep growing out of your clothes."
False: I have fat days.
"Matt, you don't know what it's like to not be able to pull your boots off with ease."
False: Why just the other day, when it rained (only time this year in Los Angeles) I spent the better part of 20 minutes pulling my Fisherman Rain Boots off my legs.
"Matt, I feel like I'm getting so big!!"
This one was tricky. A: she is not getting SO big. But B: did you get the memo...this is kind of what happens when you get pregnant. Like, um, you like get like bigger and crap.

Well, here's a memo for you guys. Just say "it was totally the Mexican food...it did seem extra bloaty what with all that MSG (even if MSG is only in Chinese food)." And say "That must be annoying to keep getting bigger. I can't relate but I can sure empathize...scratch that...baby, this may sound wicked odd, but you get more beautiful everyday your belly grows." And also "I think women who take their boots off with ease are total pussies."

Bristol Palin and The Parade She Rode In On

Meesh was Bristol Palin for Halloween. Bristol is the pregnant teenage daughter (not Anna Rodrigo) of Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Jessica Parker Palin.

People thought it was a gas!! And it was. Funniest part for me was that Meesh did not attempt to look Wasilan at all. She was just pregnant. Which made it funnier for me (well that and the Halloween pot I smoked).

When we walked to the parade on Santa Monica boulevard ( a fantastic venue to have a panic attack in) Meesh walked ahead of me. In my attempt to catch up to her, I weaved my way through Geisha Girls (men) Sexy Maids (men) Wonder Woman (man) and Joe The Plumber (proper lesbian) and finally got to her. Reached out for her the way I do these days - arm extends to baby belly - and she turned around and I quickly pulled my arm away...as it was Dora The Explorer...not Meesh. And Dora wasn't pregnant...just, ummm, well Dora likes lots of beer and cake I presume.

Finally found the real Meesh. She was walking alongside a Sarah Palin. It was such a lovely image. Mother and preg daughter strolling through a very liberal parade.