Monday, October 7, 2013

Expect the unexpected.

It finally happened.  Just like during my last pregnancy, I've had some serious nasal issues this time.  Every morning and at least one other time during the day, I get into this sneezing marathon.  My nose starts running, and I get all stuffy.  There are tissue boxes in every room of my house.  Including the basement.  Just in case.  There exists a pregnancy phenomenon that I had heard of but never experienced prior to this week.  There's even a word for it, at least on the Bump forums, namely: snissing.  This is a combination of sneezing and peeing (or more likely, pissing).  It's when you leak a little when you sneeze.  Luckily, it only happened to me on the way to the bathroom with a very full bladder.  It didn't change my reaction though.  It was a kind of horrified wonder, like: so, that's what that's like.  To be completely honest, it happened twice.  Both on the way to the bathroom.  I'm hoping it doesn't happen again, but I've learned to expect the unexpected and prepare accordingly.  I don't have picture evidence of any of this, since I know you weirdos are hoping for some blackmail material (not very effective blackmail material considering I just shared the story with the entire internet).

In other messy news, I took D with me to the grocery store today (as per usual), and he really wanted to hold the kiwis we were buying.  I figured they were three for a dollar so even if he makes them all squishy I won't be out much money.  Also, he was crying loudly.  Decision made: I let him hold the bag of kiwis.  He made short work of pulling three of the four kiwis out of the bag and lining them up on the metal tray thing in the front of the cart.  I hid the last kiwi because I wanted at least one to eat.  This turned out to be a wise decision.  We made it maybe five minutes before he started banging the kiwi on the metal bars.  He listened the first time I told him not to do it, but his obedience lasted less than a minute.  As soon as we entered the meat section, he started banging away again.  This time, he used the metal bars and his head.  I picked up some ground beef, and when I turned back to face him, the kiwi was flattened on one side.  I immediately took it away (he didn't care, he had two more to play with), but he'd already smashed it into pulp on the bottom.  I turned away to throw the ruined kiwi into a conveniently placed trash can, and when I turned back, he'd done it to another kiwi.  Clearly, I needed a better solution.  I took away both the newly smashed kiwi and the remaining fairly-whole kiwi this time.  After tossing his second victim, I realized that he'd used the metal bars as a sort of very blunt blender.  There were flecks of kiwi all over the bottom of the tray, his pants, his shoes, my pants, the cart, and finally, my purse, which I had mistakenly thought was safe under the cart and out of his reach.  Luckily (I've been pretty lucky this week if you look at it all squinty-eyed), we were still standing in the meat section next to a trash can and a roll of paper towels for people who couldn't collect their bloody meat in a civilized manner.  I cleaned all the smooshed kiwi off of us and the cart, and moved on.  D thought the whole situation was hilarious.  Since he was laughing instead of throwing a tantrum because I took away his squishy fruit toys, I considered it a win for the side of good.  I didn't realize until I tried to drive home facing the setting sun that my sunglasses had taken the brunt of the kiwi splatter.  It was a good thing I was already looking at the situation squinty-eyed because I couldn't see through the glop.  Squinting made it possible to drive home. 

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