Tag Archives: Movies

Monday Movie Menagerie: This Post May Save Your Life

Lately, I’ve been watching a lot of movies. I’ve also been falling asleep during a lot of movies, which has made writing a Movies Teach Us post difficult.

Here are the bits and pieces of what I’ve learned from the movies I’ve watched over the past month. Feel free to add your own lessons learned.

Hansel and Gretel

  • Never walk into a house made of candy.

Don’t go in. The candy isn’t worth it.

  • If you’re going to kill a witch, set her on fire.
  • Gretel’s a biter.

Red Dawn

  • When stealing supplies, remember the bucket of soda.
  • Living Call of Duty isn’t as much fun as playing it.

The Hangover Part 3

  • You don’t have to have friends to play Word with Friends.
  • Giraffes and bridges don’t mix.

Pretty Woman

  • Your arm from your wrist to your elbow is the same size as your foot. (I checked this on myself. It’s true.)

I saved this Wrong Turn 4 for last because…well…I’m not really sure what I was thinking when I watched it. Has any movie that’s made it to #4 ever actually been good?

It did, however, provide a lesson that I’m sure all of us will use some day.

Wrong Turn 4

  • When inbred cannibals are killing and eating you and your friends, don’t lock them up. Just kill them. It is not the time to pull the “We can’t kill them. We’re not like them” holier-than-thou stance. They will escape and eat you.

And Two Tylenols Later, A Baby Was Born

Guy in Childbirth Class: So…do you think my wife could just take a couple Tylenol and be ok through labor?

I wanted to smack him. Partially because earlier he insisted his punctured spleen from a car accident a couple years ago never really hurt.

I have a pretty high pain tolerance.

Translation: I cry only a little when I slowly peel off a band aid.

Taking this off will be a doozy.

Real Translation: Because needles freak me out, I won’t let the dentist numb me when filling cavities.

I’m that person nearly passes out at blood draws, and afterwards I feel stupid because I didn’t even feel the needle.

So I decided to last as long as I could drug-free and then assess the drug situation because…

  • I was a 9-pound (and however many ounces) baby.
  • Boo was a 23-inch long baby.
  • Radley was a 9-pound baby.
  • Our baby measured in the 70th percentile.
  • Except for her head. She’s in the 93rd percentile. Our baby has a big head.
  • After Sunday’s false labor contractions for over 12 hours, I almost slammed my head into the wall to knock myself out just so I could get some rest.

My birth plan said…

  1. Knock me out.
  2. Wake me up after the baby arrives.

I wish that had been an option. It actually said…

  1. Drugs: Maybe. Not Tylenol.

After laboring at home for 15-16 hours, I decided it was time to go to the hospital. When I got there, I was 7 centimeters dilated…and every nurse seemed concerned I was about to give birth in the hallway, so I asked for drugs that last an hour, hoping that was all I would need.

That resulted in me telling everyone that I made the staff red velvet cookies, and they should get one from the nurses station.

And after that sweet hour of mild relief with barely any more dilation, I asked for the epidural.

Kiefer: Are you sure you don’t want to try walking around first to see if it speeds things up?

Me: Kiefer…I’m done. I want…the epidural.

When you say someone’s name, they know you mean business.

When the anesthesiologist came in…

Anesthesiologist: How are you doing?

Me: I’m done.

Unfortunately for me, the baby hadn’t come out yet, so I wasn’t actually done.

One epidural and 3 hours later, I was 10 centimeters dilated with a bag of water still in tact. The midwife popped it, and we got the show on the road.

Then I noticed that I could see my legs and stuff in the reflection of the lamp light. I think that’s when my coochie snorcher decided it was done despite the baby still being inside.

After pushing for a bit, they turned down the epidural. After pushing for 4 hours with little progress and a baby suspected to be sunny side up, we discussed other options.

Scout finally arrived after nearly 29 hours of labor. The last 5-10 minutes was extremely unpleasant—I’ll leave it at that.

Her head was too big for my nether regions but not too big for this hat.

Hat


The Baby Came a Week Early…And There Was Much Rejoicing

LilanaGuess who decided to grace us with her presence a week early at 6-something AM on February 20th?

Congrats to Carrie, BlissfulBrit, and 1PointPerspective for guessing the correct day!

Let’s just call her Baby Scout to go with Boo and Radley.


What’s Your Definition of “Big?”

Throughout my pregnancy, people and doctors have said, “You can’t be that many weeks! You’re not big enough!”

I’ve officially gained 40 pounds, I feel like my stomach may explode, and the other day I asked Kiefer to put my shoes on for me.

A photographer friend asked me to model for some maternity pics once my “tummy popped.”

maternityI think my tummy has popped.

And I’m only going to get bigger because I still have 2 weeks to go.

The maternity pictures were hard for me. I didn’t do the traditional tummy picture every week. I didn’t even let Kiefer take a tummy pic until I was 3.5 weeks from my due date.

Why? Because my current pregnancy weight is what I weighed my sophomore year of high school.

When you’ve been overweight, any weight gain—even for a wonderful event like pregnancy—is hard to stomach. It’s hard to…

  • Feel your old clothes get tight.
  • Feel your new clothes get tight.
  • Hear people say, “Oh…are you pregnant? I had no idea,” at the beginning of your third trimester because that means they spent the previous 6 months thinking you were just getting fat.
  • Feel even remotely attractive.

But seeing myself in those maternity pics…I get it.

maternity1I don’t see a huge tummy or massive thighs or feet so swollen my ankles are almost gone. I see a mommy-to-be. And I see a baby in that belly.

Just to clarify, it’s a baby I grew, not one that I ate.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Get some. That is why everyone gets a car.”—ChocChipGuru

If you’re in the DC Metro area and need pictures, check out Baby Face Photo. Amy is great!


What Is It With Mothers and Coats?

Coworker: Make sure you’re bundled up because it’s cold enough that the baby can feel it.

Reeeeeeeeally.

The baby has me as a coat. I think she’s fine.

So here’s the deal: I hate wearing coats in the car. They make me feel confined.

Plus…you can’t put your arms down.

If I’m walking 30 feet to my car, I often don’t put a coat on.

The same is true of exiting my car. Unless it’s super windy or snowing, I’m not wearing my coat to walk 30 feet to the building I work in.

I’ve always run hot. Because that comes from my dad’s side of the family, my own mom struggled with this. Here was her coat evolution:

  • Put on your coat and gloves on.
  • Put your coat on and put gloves in the pockets.
  • Zip it up.
  • Zip it up all the way!
  • Where’s your coat? Why aren’t you wearing it?
  • Fine. You don’t have to wear a coat, but you do have to put it in the car in case you get stuck somewhere.*

*You’ll notice there is no mention of hats. Hats were a lost cause.

And that’s how I’ve rolled ever since. I may not be wearing a coat, but I always have one.

Will I make the baby wear a coat? Of course. But not while she’s still in my tummy. That’s just overkill.


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