Pregnant Date

It is Friday night and I have a date with Meesh.  What are we doing you ask?  Well, don't get wicked jealous but we are taking the dogs for a long walk around the neighborhood.  Good for the circulation.  Then we will probably have a bite at home.  Get into bed.  Meesh will wrap herself in her lifesize, U shaped preg pillow and I will make advances and while I am extending my hand to her proper parts the baby will kick, knocking my hand away.  I will go it again only to be stopped at the pass by the two pups.  I will then say fuck it, grab her boobs and say eee-rrr eee-rrr eee-rrr (I would never actually say eee-rrr but I had to jot it down because this Asian girl I met last night said eee-rrr in response to everything I said.  She would clench her fists and cartoonishly put them over her eyes and flex the fists back and forth whilst saying eee-rrr eee-rrr.  I said "my wife is pregnant."  She said "Eee-rrr eee-rrr."  I said "I am going east for the holidays."  She said...well you know what she said.  Worst part is she thought she was funny. I...did not.)

Pregzeltov

I was about to get something zapped off of my face at the dermatologist when my phone rang.  It was someone who helped me and Meesh a while back (by help I mean guided...by guided I mean talked to...by talked to I mean mentored...get it?)

He said "Mazelpreg!"  Yes...he's Catholic.  As Catholic as the Catskills and my Rabbi.

He heard that we are having...err again...that Meesh is having a baby.  Fuck it, that we are HAVING a baby.  And he was very excited for us.  We talked.  I hung up.  Got my "spot" burned off of my face.  Ever had that done?  Well this guy just threw the goggles over my eyes and started burning my cheek.  No warning.  Fucking killed!  I hate him.

When I got in my car (prius...mind your levels) I was two things:  burning and smiling...fun combo.  I was reflective.  The Mazelpreg man who had walked us through a rough patch had heard through a grapevine that we were bringing a baby into this world.  Into a world, especially now, so wrapped in pain.  A world that can tear so many things apart and has.  And I've never been more...okay.  Don't get me wrong, things are crumbling around me.  Some of my own things.  However, the euphoria and bliss of my real life are truly overwhelming anything awful.  I see Meesh.  We cook dinner.  Us Jews listen to Christmas music round the clock (I begged for a tree years back and Meesh thought it would confuse things (double parenthesis here, what things?  It has been the dogs and us.  I know I'm Jewish.  She certainly knows she is Jewish, just ask her Menorah collection) so we did not get a Christmas tree but she did buy me 15 boxes of twinkle lights and she asked me to download a ton of X-Mas music so I have a good sense that a tree this way will come in time) and our dogs run around and then they tire and lay on Meesh's belly.  Knowing that there is something living in that belly.  They lay there as soldiers waiting to attack any wrong hand that dare touch the expanding stomach.

So yes, the economy is collapsing and we are in a universal rut and heartache is finding its way to us all...but I am choosing to drink the cool-aid of...here it comes...HOPE!

So, to any of you out there pregnant, not pregnant, pregnant with ideas, inspiration, possibility...PREGZELTOV!!

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?