Things Not to Tell Your Pregnant Wife

1. Taking care of the baby will probably be a lot like taking care of a puppy.
   
   
2. You sure are eating a lot today.
   
   
3. You have been complaining a lot lately.
   
   
4. Babies feel like little monkeys when you hold them.
   
   
5. When are we going to have another one?

Is There Ever Such a Thing as Too Much Jewelry?

I was at my parents' house watching the MSU football game. They had this guy on during the game, and he used to play for the Spartans. Don't ask me what his name was because that's like asking me how many times I sneezed last week.

Anyway he had a giant diamond in both ears. My mom commented that the diamonds were so big that they had to be fake. I disagreed and told her that I bet they were real diamonds (we're talking at least 2 1/2 carats). She asked how he could afford such diamonds when he was still in college. My Dad reminded her that he wasn't in college anymore (they just told us that at the bottom of the screen, but she didn't see it). This guy now plays for the NFL, so he can afford big diamonds I guess.

So, then my mom changed strategies on us. She accepted the fact that the diamond earrings were probably real and that this guy could afford them. Now she wanted to know why someone would want such big diamond earrings. She suggested that they would look better in some sort of setting perhaps with other jewels. Even then, she said, they would still be quite gaudy. I mean, she's got a point. Unless you're the queen of England, it's a little pretentious to wear such big diamonds even if you can afford them. Somehow I don't think that this NFL player had considered any of this though.

It was at this point that my Dad got all frustrated and piped up with what may be the funniest comment ever to come out of his mouth. He simply said, "It's bling."
My mom looked confused. She said, "What?"
"Bling, that's what it's called. He's got bling on."
"Oh," she said.
That seemed to be the answer she had been looking for all along.

Next week we're going to teach my mom about crunk cups.

Ouch.

I went for my three hour glucose tolerance test today. They had to draw my blood four different times over the three hours. Needles to say, it was the very best part of my day.

Today made me realize that I would much rather work with teenagers than old people. During my first hour or so at the medical office where I had to go for the test I was secretly envying the people who worked there. It was so quiet, peaceful, and lovely. I started to think, "Now that...that...that is a real job. The workers are doing their work, but they don't even look like they want to cry."

About an hour later, I had to change my tune. The old people started to come in. I had to give the workers credit. They barely flinched even though I was going crazy in my own head from just being a bystander to it all. Here are some things that I just wouldn't be able to tolerate if I worked in a medical office and the old people came in like that:

1. Hearing everyone's life history and long lists of medical problems in great detail.
2. Having a lady explain to me why her insurance has changed in such great detail that it takes at least seven minutes.
3. Watching the old people refuse to sit down in the comfy waiting room chairs....They want to be next darn it!
4. Having the old people pretend that they are really at a restaurant instead of a medical testing facility. I'll explain.... See, the old people kept bugging the office help because they wanted to know exactly who would be next. Then, if they didn't like the answer, they would argue. "I am very sure that I was here before that man." One woman even came over to me wayyyy on the other side of the room from where she was standing to see what kind of paperwork I was filling out. Apparently she was trying to see which test I was in for so that she could be sure I wouldn't be cutting in front of her. She wasn't subtle about it either. She came and leaned way over my shoulder. Much to her great disappointment, however, I was only doing a crossword puzzle since I had already been there for two hours and was just waiting for the time when I could have my next blood draw. Let's just get something straight here. As far as I know, medical offices have never ever worked in the same manner as Bill Knapp's (nor should they). You aren't necessarily served in any discernible order. I can see getting upset if you've been waiting for a long time, but the old people started all that up as soon as they got there.

So, it made the old people pretty mad when I was called in at 10:15 and they were all gathered around the lab doorway thinking that they were next. You would think they might step aside for a big ol' pregnant lady, but they didn't. In fact, I'm pretty sure that if the one lady had the power to do so, she would have lit me on fire and sent me to hell using only her soul-piercing gaze. What they all didn't realize is that I was probably the only one out of all of the people there who HAD to get my blood drawn at a certain time. Boy, were they ever mad. I could still hear them arguing with the poor phelbotomist when I left.

Dear Complaint Department

I wanted to resist the urge to write anything on here tonight because my mother always told me that if I didn't have anything good to say, I should say nothing at all. Unfortunately, I am currently fasting (doctor's orders) to get ready for my glucose test tomorrow, so it's pretty hard to resist anything besides food. Actually, I don't even want food. I just want a giant glass of water. Giant. I'm really thirsty. Sandpaper tongue thirsty. My directions from the hospital tell me that I can only have water in small quantities though. Probably a giant glass of water isn't a small quantity.

I guess I have some good news. The first day of school was pretty good. I only heard one kid say that they wanted to kill themselves because they had me as their teacher. It's funny, when I set out to become an English teacher, inducing suicidal thoughts was never one of my goals. Just an unanticipated perk I guess.

I kind of forgot how melodramatic teenagers can be though. They are pretty funny sometimes. The school has a new name badge ID policy where the kids and teachers have to wear these goofy IDs on lanyards all day long. Guess who gets to enforce the new policy? The teachers. As if we aren't busy with anything else....The excuses started right away. "The lanyard bothers my neck." "I forgot." "I'm just keeping mine on my desk." "Mine's in my pocket." "I didn't know we actually had to wear them." God help them all when they have jobs and have to wear a badge to work. God help them even more if they're me and they're responsible for a bunch of people who refuse to wear their IDs.