Pregnancy math and a series of annoying things

One year ago today (also our dear Addyson's birthday) I took a little test that changed our lives in a big way.  I think back to that morning, when I was so nervous that it would be negative and that it would start a panicky month of googling things and counting down the days until I could take another test.  I was hoping so so so so so much to see a positive test, but I was expecting a negative test.  Being pregnant seemed like such a peculiar experience, and was something my sister did, not something I did!!  Looking back at the past year, I almost can't believe all that happened.  Not that I did anything out of the ordinary, but I just can't believe I got to be pregnant and I got to give birth and now we have this handsome little fella.  Its like, when I go into the bathroom stall at work and I think, remember when you almost couldn't fit in here??  Having a big belly...did that really happen??  Hanging out with little Maxer last night and thinking about how much has changed over the past year was surreal.  Which brings me to my point:  pregnancy math doesn't make sense. Let's look at this in weeks: I found out I was pregnant 52 weeks ago. I had a full term, 40 week pregnancy.  Maxwell is 16 weeks old.  There are 2-4 weeks in there that I'm not sure what happened to.  I'm no scientist so I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation.  Like, there was a semi-rapture that deleted 4 weeks from my life.  Not a problem.

We went with Mike to Colorado Springs last night for the start of their fall season.  I drove so that Mike could get some work done, and his car wouldn't shift into 5th gear, and sometimes 4th gear, so driving on the highway in 3rd gear made for a unique driving experience.  Traffic was a beyotch, but we finalllllly made it.  Right as we were pulling into the park, Mike realized he forgot the team shirts.  DOH!  That was just the beginning of the series of annoying things.  I was ultra hungry, and Max was screaming, but I knew if I didn't eat things would get weird.  So after unloading Mike, I loaded Max back up and drove to the nearest Taco Bell.  In my extreme hunger state, when the lady told me my food would be right out, all I could say was FOOOOOD.  I think I meant to say, "Good, thanks."  But even then, "Good" is not an appropriate response.  Like, it BETTER BE COMING!!  I got my bag o'burritos y tacos and sped back to the park.  Threw Mike and his refs the bag of food and rushed back to the car to snarf my tacos and feed Max.  Besides from it being 1,000 degrees, things were going well.  Max and I were in the backseat, he was nursing and I was mowing down, when a little VW bug bumped into us as the driver was trying to squeeze into the space in front of us.  I am reading "52 Things Kids Need From Their Mothers" and today's chapter was about how kids need to see their mom have poise in chaotic situations.  What excellent timing!!  I composed myself and got out of the car with Max to talk to the perp.  I'm sure he felt like a huge dong for running into a car with a woman and a baby.  There was no damage, and I was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, so we exchanged info and we went about our lives.  Max and I layed on the grass for a while and watched adults get all riled up about kickball.  I swatted ants and other insects away from us and pondered moving to a place with no insects. The games ended and Mike came back to the car....as I was loading Max up and telling Mike how happy I was that I had had Taco Bell, he started barfing.  Turns out he had accidentally eaten a bean burrito instead of soft taco...and he does not react well to beans.  So after we recovered from that incident and all traces of Taco Bell had been discarded, he went to turn the car on and....the battery was dead.  Oopies....perhaps that was my fault, from turning the key forward to open the windows and leaving it like that for a while.

Surprisingly, we recovered well from this series of annoying events and were able to get home in time to give Maxer a bath, get him snuggled into bed, and then have a couple beers while watching the Broncos game that we had DVR'd.

Whew!

Thanks for the jersey, Charlee!