Dental Damns

Ever since my Novocain-less root canal of 1999 I have been a stickler about getting my teeth cleaned regularly. For the record, though, my root canal was not due to dental denial but more due to a piece of pavement hell bent on meeting my face head on and the accompanying 40 pound backpack that ensured this happening.

But I digress.

So I get to the dentist's office and immediately tell the girl, "I'm fine but a little more pregnant than the last time so - no xrays or needles or - um - anything pokey." We talked for a bit about her prego friends and whether or not mint polish would make me gag (we were safe) and then she started the cleaning.

My eyes were closed when I felt the tugging on my scalp. Curious, I opened my eyes and she giggled. "Sorry," she said, "I got the polisher caught in your hair! That's never happened! I mean, I poked my husband in the eye the other day during his cleaning - but at least I didn't pull his hair!"

I tried to swallow. "Well, glad to be an example!"

A few minutes later she added: "You have a tiny mouth,"frowning behind her blue mask she pulled a spitty polisher from my mouth. "And wet."

That's right.

The professional tooth lady told me I had a tiny, wet mouth.

I tried to giggle but choked on my own spit.

So call your dentist now, because you never know if you'll get the normal compliment of "your gums look nice!" or "no cavities!" or, the classic, "you have a tiny, wet mouth!"

ahahahahha :)

Baby Bumpers

The warm goo was spreading across my poofy midsection as my husband and mother watched from their respective chairs.

It was awkward.

I'm not one to flaunt my Michelin-style mid-section so to have three separate people watch as it is bared and then gooed - is NOT my idea of a good time.

The Ultrasound Tech started smooshing my lower abdomen with the scanner (it looks like the UPC scanner at most retail outlets I worked at) and there was the baby - mooning us. His tiny head was turned away from us with his butt pushed upwards.

Sleeping like his dad already who likes to use his ass as a not-so-secret weapon while snoring away.

"Hmm, I'm just going to take some measurements," I could tell that she wasn't too happy about my kid's position. She then rattled off and talked about head size, showed us the baby's feet, both legs, arms and watched as the tiny person mouthed non-words and rested their little head on one hand. Moving around, the baby stared at us and continued to open and close their mouth as the Tech continued to manipulate my tummy fat.

"Well, I don't think we'll be able to tell - well - that right there looks like a penis! Oh yeah - sometimes you can't tell, but, well, he's got a pretty prominent penis!'

Harry cheered. Mom cried. I contemplated the fact that there was a penis growing inside of me now.

:) Harry Shivel IV is still set to be due on April 1st, 2010.

Until then - I repeat - THERE IS A PENIS GROWING INSIDE ME.