The Half-Baked Bun

What, you don't come here for scary stories about bugs? Alright, alright. I'll offset my last post with something a little cuter. How about pictures of baby No. 2?



Unfortunately we didn't get the 3D pictures like last time because the baby wasn't cooperating. He/she decided that being good and healthy was the job for the day, not cooperating so we could get a sneak peek at a cute little face. Oh well. I go back in another four weeks, so maybe then!

I'm again opting to not find out the gender. I just don't care and like the surprise of it all. I like to speculate, convince myself one way or the other, and then change my mind. I'm definitely not one of those moms who has any instincts when it comes to gender. These are my theories so far:

1) It'll be a girl. This pregnancy has been the complete opposite of my pregnancy with Avery complete with vomiting, bone-crushing fatigue, food aversions well past the first trimester, more doctor visits, and a much, much larger belly much earlier on. My theory is that it'll be the complete opposite experience, except for the end result. Avery gets a little sister!



2) It'll be a boy. The pregnancy is the total opposite of my first, so testosterone must be making me sick. I'm also RAVENOUS, so some say that means boy. Alan started feeling the baby kick several days ago, a couple of weeks ahead of when he could feel it with Avery, so it must be a strong-legged boy. Avery gets a little brother!


So those are my gender theories. One of them is bound to be right. And I love being right.

Phobia

To say I'm bug-phobic is putting it mildly. I remember calling my mom as a kid (teen?) so she could walk me through picking up a dead bug that was in a kitchen drawer. I'm almost certain now that the "bug" in question was actually a dried spaghetti noodle. It didn't matter. Even a worm-like resemblance was enough to send me into a panic.

But there is a certain bug that I've only seen since we've moved to New Jersey that, when seen, takes all rational thought out of my brain and makes me a totally crazy person. I break into a sweat, my blood pressure rises, my heart beats out of my chest.

I saw a few of the demon bugs when we lived in our apartment before we moved into our house. Our apartment was by a river, and when asked, the apartment manager said they were simply water bugs, which is way too harmless a name for these suckers. I knew he was just placating me, so I tried to look them up. With nothing to go on, I've been calling them bazillipedes because while they don't have thick bodies like centipedes, they do have a bazillion feathery legs.

Over the summer, I was working in the office when I heard a kerfuffle in the living room. Alan was racing about, knocking things over. It sounded like a fight had broken out. When questioned from afar, he told me not to come in the living room. Which led to this Facebook status update:

Erin Whitehead

Oh dear. Alan won't even let me in the room to see the bug beast he is killing.

· · July 20 at 10:33pm

He later told me it was the toughest, biggest bazillipede he'd ever seen. I freaked out even knowing it had been in the house.

So, of course, the other night, I saw a freaking bazillipede in our dining room. It was up near the molding, way out of my reach. I immediately called Alan to see when he'd be home. He answered his work phone, meaning he was at least 30 minutes out of reach. A dilemma. I'd be stuck in the dining room for the next half an hour, in a cold sweat, watching the bug, waiting for Alan to come save the day. I realize this is ridiculous, but phobias aren't rational, people.

However, the bazillipede decided he had places to be. And boy, all of those bazillion legs help those jerks move fast. Shockingly fast. He was moving so fast that I knew I had to do something or I'd have a bazillipede leaping out at me from behind doors or worse, in Avery's room.

So what do I do? With Alan on the phone, I grab the fly-swatter and run, screaming like a banshee, to bust the hell out of the bug. He went behind our TV trays. Alan asked if I'd gotten him, and I reported that I thought I did because he'd lost a lot of legs in the fight. Sure enough, after a quick inspection, the little jerk was dead.

Have you ever seen Nothing to Lose with Tim Robbins and Martin Lawrence? And they get in a fight and Tim Robbins' move is to go running at Martin Lawrence with his elbow? That's totally how I fought the bug. While screaming.

So tonight, I decided to Google "bug with lots of legs" to settle this bug mystery once and for all. And lo and behold, Google must have improved over the last couple of years because the first link was a winner. Apparently, it's a house centipede. At least, I'm not going to go looking around any more, as this picture was enough to make me jump, cover my eyes, tear up and start to laugh hysterically. CLICK AT YOUR OWN RISK, PEOPLE.

Dining With Daddy

Dining with Daddy, with an ocean view, on our cruise in September. That look up at Alan is just too much. In the words of Rachel Zoe, I die.