Just…a little crush.

I heard something terrible today. And leave it to Rodan + Fields to be the bearer of bad news. They have already hijacked my Facebook with all their reps’ posts. I found out today about face-crushing. Do you know what that is? I know R+F aren’t the first people to bring up the concept, they are just the way I finally heard about it. It’s when you sleep on your side or stomach and your face essentially gets smushed into the pillow for hours, creating wrinkles. I already know of a specific wrinkle I have from this very thing; however, I didn’t know the name and now I am sad. I’m sad that I am officially “crushing” my face. In essence, I am crushed. Being amidst my 3rd pregnancy, I know what it’s like to want to sleep on your stomach and not have the luxury. The first thing I did when I came home from the hospital after having my first 2 kids is throw myself face first onto my bed. I was intoxicated with joy and lack of oxygen. My own personal form of asphyxiation fetish. But now it’s like I have to stand up in a group and say, “I am The Blue Ribbon Wife, and I’m a face crusher.” What kind of steps are involved in changing this? There’s no support group. There’s no one to stay awake all night and gently ease my body over onto its back when my weakness for crushing takes over in my semi-concscious state of sleep. My husband is no help because I make him sleep on his stomach so he doesn’t snore (right?!). I have to wake up every morning knowing that at some point I probably crushed.

Even if I am able to sleep on my back and change my ways, I am now aware that my two favorite things in the world: 1. Laughing and 2. Sleeping on my stomach, will cause me heinosity (why isn’t that an official word? Btw, I’m convinced my friend and I coined this word that is nowhere to be found except on Urban Dictionary) in the future and possibly a lot of money spent on botox, surgery or R+F products (well-played).

I’m crushed. I just need some time.

Happy Mother’s Day…again!

Well, I couldn’t post this at the time, but I’m wishing myself another happy Mother’s Day since it’s the day I found out we are going to have child version 3.0! At this moment, there are too many emotions happening, mostly pissy bitchy (as my mom puts it) because I’m listening to 1.0 scream her head off that 2.0 ALMOST hurt her with a tennis ball. Not that he hurt her, he ALMOST hurt her. So downloading 3.0 is creating some mixed emotions today.

While I say “mixed emotions,” know that is more of a momentary feeling. I’m so excited to meet the third baby!!! Like most people, whether it be your first, third or (G-d love you) your fifth, I’m overjoyed and scared.

In addition to the joyous elatement (why isn’t this a word?) that is the hood of mothering and brewing of a spawn, there appears to be a serious new development with this specific pregnancy. Get ready for it…version 3.0 is incompatible with Starbucks mochas.

No, you don’t understand. Anyone who knows me personally or happens to be friends with me on Facebook knows, Starbucks is my oxygen. My daily decaf tall 2 pump nonfat no whip extra hot mocha is what keeps my blood pumping through my veins. The BRW lives for her Starbucks.

At about week 6 of pregpocalypse III, it was over. The thought of consuming my mocha literally makes me gag. I am currently 17 weeks. And if you don’t count the 3 mochas I have bought in attempt to reverse this cruel effect, I have not had a mocha, latte, etc. in 11 weeks. I have been able to drink half of a tall coffee Frappuccino…which essentially isn’t an accomplishment but rather a tragedy, as the only coffee blended drink that is appropriate in any situation to consume is a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf Ice Blended (which, I’m happy to say, I was able to drink half of while in Southern California for a trip).

There has been debate amongst the people as to whether this is temporary or permanent. If this is permanent, it could be one of the greatest shifts my universe has ever experienced; the other being the shift that took place during pregnancy #1 where I became and remained allergic to wine. Wine. So Pimm’s Cups it is from now on (well, in 23 weeks).