Shane and I finished our morning work out at the gym. I felt resilient! I was Master of the Universe. It was 9:45 o'clock on St. Patrick's Day as I made way to visit my acupuncturist. I wallowed in the great head start to my Saturday. I couldn't wait to feel physically and mentally in syc; rested, a true luxury. As we are not finding out the gender, everyone's been trying their hand at the guessing game. Christine, the acupuncturist, attempted to figured out the sex by deciphering the babies pulse. She said it was a girl, but my intuition always told me from the start that it was a boy. I could be wrong. In any case, the baby is faced down and head down which in pregnant world is ideal. She did her magic and I felt brand new. I scheduled her weekly in my last four weeks to ensure the health and safety of baby and me.
On my way home, I was entangled in the circus of the St. Patrick's parade. A wave of drunken green barricaded the roads. By this time, I was famished. I regularly pack my snack with me to avoid irritable pregnant syndrome, but not today. Frown. Shane and I had a schedule to keep. We had some essential shopping to tackle like diapers, butt butter, and butt wipes. As of yet, nursery is just a figment of our imagination. Since Shane's been playing hookey during my pregnancy, it was time I put the screech on the emergency brakes. If you compare him to other victimized father's to be, he's got it lush. He is to be present at Cabo San Lucas this Thursday for four or five days to celebrate a bachelor that doesn't have a set wedding date yet...ironic. Anyway, that's a different story. Smile.
At home, husband is enthralled in what we women like to refer to as March Sadness. Shane, finally motivated to utilize the computer not to mention the internet, glued to the NCAA college bracket tournament. He tried to delay our errands so he can catch the last five minutes of a game which could mean anything...like a double overtime and an hour later. Not today mister.
Shopping was like two people having a brain meltdown. Since we were clueless as to the gender, I thought it would be fun to have one gender specific outfit for the hospital. Shane as usual did not want any hand in my game, in reality I think he called it stupid. I quickly nabbed a knitted pink hat, pink shoes, and pink shirt. All of this overdose of pink was causing an allergic reaction, an outbreak of nausea and light headedness. He, on the other hand, was more selective, nervously picking through his choices, resulting in blue shoes and blue giraffe shirt.
We than browsed the aisle of milk bottles, nipples, and pacifiers. The marketing strategy was amazing words like avoid gas, colic, natural nipples was apparent. Milk bottles were as various as the hues in the color spectrum. We were baffled! A victim of marketing, I grabbed the bottles that avoided colic and gas. How ineffective could it be? We further perused the breast feeding section as Shane giggled like an adolescent at the odds and ends of breast pump accessories. Diapers, we needed diapers. It seemed like everyone had a newborn, because every brand was out of newborn diapers. Strange in a twilight zone kind of way. As I would have loved to have perused more, we were scheduled for a birthday barbecue at 3 o'clock and it was almost 4 o'clock. Where was our priority? We were always sucked into the abyss of celebration. It was St. Patrick's Day and March Sadness and I could feel that Shane was feverishly going through withdrawals. Besides, we had a hot date tomorrow to finish up our errands. So I gave in. Big mistake.
Lesson: A wise Grasshopper must stay on the green path to avoid ninja attack.
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