Here's an idea....keep it to yo' self

I'm writing another blog now because the baby hasn't come yet and when it does, I suspect I won't have as much time to write as I would like to, or at least that what everyone tells me. Since I've been with child people have told me a lot of things. Here are some other funny things people have told or asked me as I've become noticeably pregnant.

1) "Are you pregnant?"
2) "I have a feeling you're going to have a vaginal birth" (told to my by the old Second Cup lady)
3) "If you're anything like my wife, you're going to be ripped to shreds" (nice one)
4) "Why would you ever choose to do that to your body?"
5) "Is it yours?" (granted this was by a crazy man on the subway who may or may not have been high on opiates)
6) Me: "I'm pregnant"
Him: "Gross"
Then of course there's those classic people who LOVE to tell you how hard it is to be a new parent.
You tell them you're pregnant and the first thing out of their mouth is: "Say goodbye to sleep" or "Have lots of sex now"
when really I think the word they're looking for is "Congratulations" or maybe "You're a slut".
No one I really liked has ever said that stuff to me, just the annoying people and annoying they are. I'm 31, I'm not the star of an MTV show about being a teen mom so trying to scare me about the realities of newborns is stupid. It's kind of like those preachy ex-smokers. Just because you got through it doesn't mean it's ok to tell people how shitty it is, that just makes you a pain in the ass. Anyhow, my lack of sleep and celebicy is meant to come in 4 days so I better go hump and nap.

It's The Final Countdown do do do do , do do do do do

I am meant to have my first baby in 6 days. Yup, in 6 days I will push, pull, and possibly poop my way into motherhood. Yup, you heard right...poop. This is not something they advertise in such incredible classics as: Look Who's Talking 1 &2, Nine Months or Oscar robbed 1988 Kevin Bacon masterpiece, She's Having a Baby.
Nope, no director chooses to share the realities of what really happens in the birthing room, it doesn't sell tickets. They also fail to show that your baby will most likely come out with a cone head, giant balls and or labia and other such non-cute afflictions, the result of a uterus contracting you out of a birth canal. Thank god this is not a journey we can remember. Could you imagine? Picture it , Sicily 1947...wait sorry, wrong blog, that's my Ode to Patrillo Blog that I haven't quite started.
Ok, picture it, you're 30 and if you don't squeeze yourself out of a Rhino's ass you'll die. That is pretty much the equivalent of what's about to happen to this tiny little baby inside of me. I am simply the vessel; a rhino's ass.
So needless to say, the anticipation is killing me but it's not a bad anticipation. Anyone who has done this knows that it's an exciting and thrilling anticipation but honestly, you would HAVE to be lying if you didn't admit that shitting the bed, contractions, baby through birth canal, placenta action and stiches didn't freak you out just a little bit. Regardless, there's no turning back now, which is part of the calm. It's been happening forever and will continue to happen long after I have children but in the meantime, I am writing this blog over the next twelve months in order to learn how to cook my way through Julia Child's cookbook. Just kidding (I bet that's the most overused blog joke of all time) I will be taking myself and you through the first 12 months of motherhood. So here we go, welcome to "From Titties to Teats: A humourous look at the first year of motherhood", as told by Larissa Ann Primeau.