The Gallbladder: The Gift that Keeps on Giving

I am starting to suspect that the universe is really conspiring against me. Here’s why:

• I now have one teeny tiny deflated balloon boob and one super ginormous watermelon boob.
• This is the last season of “Desperate Housewives.” FML

But back to the boobs. So during all my gallbladder fun, I was often unable to breast feed because I was either

A) Drugged up out of by gourd on painkillers.
B) Having surgery.
C) Immersed in a Kardashian marathon on E! (But mostly A and B)

This is now wreaking some havoc on my tatas—and I P&D’d the shit out of the ladies. My right boob is trying very hard to produce enough for my BOTTOMLESS PIT, while my left boob is whining about having to get out of bed in the morning, stupid bitch. Righty is getting overworked.

I now nurse Bug as much as possible, but this is what happens:

1) He freaks out like crazy bat shit, like that chick from “Pretty Wild” on the Vogue journalist, when he can’t get any milk out of the left boob.
2) Then chokes and yaks all over because he’s getting too much from the right.
3) I pump and then bottle feed because I’m over it.
4) I try nursing again, and then I HAVE NOTHING IN EITHER BOOB because Righty said eff it, I’m making a vodka tonic and going to bed.
5) I made up a bottle and watch “Most Eligible Dallas.”

Ok before I get YELLED AT, I get it. Breast is best. And I am giving Bug as much boob as humanly possible. But at this friggin point, with super boob and deflated bitch boob, I need a friggin break.

The gall of some people, specfically me.

So I had my gallbladder removed. NBD. ~APPARENTLY~ gallstones are yet another thing that can occur when you come in contact with a penis.Let’s recap…

THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENDED SINCE I HAD UNPROTECTED SEX WITH MY HUSBAND: Pregnancy, morning sickness, no cosmos caffeine or sushi, labor, still no cosmos or caffeine, AS WELL AS no dairy (cheese=life), gallbladder removal surgery, followed by a LOW FAT DIET—die. Well, and this

which pretty much makes up for all of it.

I think this is god telling me to eat carbs. Like a ton of carbs…enough to make Dr. Atkins roll over in his bacon lined grave.

Life now =



But for reals—this is really my perfect no dairy, low fat and actually still mildly tasty meal.

Falafal and Tabouleh with Pita

Step 1) Falafal—honestly, buy a box and follow the instructions. BUT, if that’s just too simple, this is a great recipe. http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/vegan-friendly-falafel/detail.aspx

Step 2) http://www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,1643,152167-248192,00.html

Step 3) Pita. Ok really, just buy some. Whole wheat…make sure there is no whey. Warm. Fill.

DELISH and it has fiber, protein, fresh produce and carbs (!!). Nuff said.

M

The healing power of baby poop

Hold on, because I’m getting ready to drop some knowledge on you.

IF YOU ARE A STEP-PARENT, AND SERIOUSLY ARE GOING BAT SHIT CRAZY WITH YOUR STEP-KIDS, HAVE A BABY!

I’m not effing kidding. I have two bundles of step-joy and for the four years or so that I have been step-trying-to-not-eff-them-up, I was a serious hot tranny mess.

Here’s the thing:

• As a step parent, it’s all guts, no glory. Think about it—when biokids scream “I hate you daddy!! GET out of my life or I’ll cut you!” ultimately, like two hours later they love you again and want you to tuck them in and shit. As a step-parent, they always want to cut you.





• Step-kids get the maternal juices flowing, but seriously just try and hug a step kid. They look at you like you are honestly going to eat them. I call it “mothering blue balls.” It’s like you get all excited about nurturing and shit, but can’t actually do it.





• Your own baby will fix this.





• I tried a puppy first. Cute as he is, it didn’t work.





• Seriously, have a baby.
  

OK, for reals. If you and your hubby have discussed having your own baby to add to your dys-not-so-fun-ctional family unit, do it.

A) It will bring your unit together and make you feel more like a team and less like the bad news bears.
B) You will now have a release for your maternal boner.
C) The funny thing was, my first real hug from one of the Steps came moments after the birth of Bug.
D) And if push comes to shove, you can ignore the shit out of everyone else and focus solely on your flesh and blood…but honestly, you won’t have you. You will actually matter in the eyes of your step-kids for at least a whole week.
E) I even got a shout out on FB from the 13yo. Holla!

The Puppy: Not a baby.

M

I NEED

Seriously, I'm not exactly sure what it does, or why I need it, but it looks like those wicked egg chairs from Men In Black, and pretty much I think the Bug would think he hit the jackpot of bouncy chair thingies.

He'd be like, check me out bitches to all the other kids on the block. Duh.

M

FMD (F my diet)

So it turns out my Bug is sensitive to dairy. Two things:

1. How, after only one episode of moderate inconsolable crying, can my pediatrician determine my Bugaboo can’t stomach the stuff? I’m assuming she’s not telepathic after all.



2. It has come to my attention that pretty much all babies have sensitivities to dairy—which is either
   a. A complete crock of shit like ADHD or Scientology.
   b. Totally the way babies are just simply suppose to be and should really be discussed pre-pregnancy.

In fact, I’m thinking that the male penis should come with a warning label which would read:

WARNING:
Use of this device may result in pregnancy. This could then result in the inability to consume alcohol, caffeine or sushi. Followed by the inability to consume alcohol, caffeine, cheese, yogurt, Cherry Garcia, or pretty much anything else because dairy and whey are in fricken everything!

I’m aware that women would cease to procreate. But we have the right to be informed for eff sake. But anyway, looks like I’m now almost a vegan—which sucks because vegans annoy the shit out of me, like fundamentalists and sales people who work on commission. Foods I will be consuming from here on out:
• Coconut creamer—yay, tropical…like a pina colada.
• Lentils
• Like, every fruit under the sun.
• Oatmeal
• Any vegetable that does not require the accompaniment of cheese…which doesn’t leave me with much, honestly.
• Every last possible carbohydrate I can get my hands on---pasta, sourdough, the crust off of the kid’s pizza, croutons, etc.
• Fruit popsicles, which in my mind are fruit, just like an apple.
• Grains that I can’t pronounce, like quinoa and amaranth.
• Black tea and coffee—If I can’t have my dairy, I’m taking back my caffeine!
• Chinese food. Not a lot of dairy in spring rolls and chow mein. Thank god.

M

Me

Things you should know about me:

• My husband and I have been together for 4 years, married for 1.
• I am a lot younger than my husband…like biologically incapable of being the mother of his first child…but not in a creepy way. More cool if anything…especially for the hubby.
• My step-children are 13 and 10.
• The 13 year-old is pretty much a super model and I hate her for that.
• The 10 year old, I kid you not, will be the next Justin Timberlake. Someone once said the next Justin Bieber, who is horrifically annoying, so let’s stick with Timberlake (who is a total dreamboat).
• I used to be skinny.
• I once believed that cosmos and otter-pops were the best diet ever (ok, I still believe that, but it doesn’t really bode well for breastfeeding).
• Thanks to the love of my life, my 2.5 month baby boy (who is a WAY bigger dreamboat than even JT), I have like a million pounds to lose in order to look anywhere near what I did when I was 21 and believed dancing and singing to Mariah Carey in my kitchen with my roomie was cardio.
• I love to cook and aspire to be the “Female Bobby Flay.”
• It would be AMAZING to one day have some goofy cooking show on my terrace where I grill random shit, drink margaritas and make a disgusting amount of money from making dumb wise cracks about tastes and smells and other cooking related stuff.
• I believe that I have a wonderful taste in music and would be proud to show anyone my winning iTunes collection.
• I believe Mariah Carey is musical genius.
• But then again, I also believe the Foo Fighters are GODS.
• Having my baby fall asleep on my chest is the best feeling I have ever felt. I will probably even let him do it when he is a teenager.

FIN