Posted by: alegra22 | May 1, 2009

I am Gollum…(no! Smeagol!)

Me choosing my shower gels. Seriously, this is me.

Me choosing my shower gels. Seriously, this is me.

First, I would like to send out a hearty congratulations to my friend Pete for proving he is every bit the man I have thought him to be by asking Miss J to marry him. I will pause for a moment while the applause dies down. When I met Pete and J in Chicago on the way to the Writer’s Digest NYC meeting, Dan and I both could see they were a match. The kind of couple you can imagine fifty years from now still affectionately harrassing one another. Miss J still trying to convince Pete that lighting a man’s cigar by blowing alcohol fumes over a lit match is not going to impress her enough to get him a little action…only she would be telling him at nearly eighty years old, “If you are going to persist with your Tom Foolery at least take out your D*mn dentures before you spit them halfway across the room!”

And of course, I would hope that on at least one of these occasions I would be present to side with Miss J while secretly encouraging Pete that really, if he puts his mind to it, this cigar lighting stunt could be the Moment of His Life (and what a great story to tell!) Speaking of the future, if Miss J is reading this, I suggest she might want to stop at this moment, just for the sake of her future children. You see, I am now drifting into a pregnancy blog. I don’t want to scare away any future Pete/J creations from having their fair go at this life business. ;o)

So for the last week I have been worrying about not being nauseous enough. I have not been doing this worry in any sort of open forum, I have been secretly worrying and secretly telling myself to stop worrying. It has all been a bit Gollum-Smeagolish but then again, I am pregnant. And then yesterday, the nausea hit, fists swinging and hasn’t let off. In the last 48 hours I have gone from ‘sort-of Gollumish’ to being unable to fight my hormonal destiny. I am Gollum. I am Smeagol. I don’t know which personality is safer.

Gollum: We wants the pizza, we must have the pizza, the pizza is mine, oooo those nasty little hobbitz are going to eat all my pizza, my pizza, MY pizza…mmmm this garlic, this garlic, this garlic, oh this feta! Oh my precious!!!!!!

Five minutes later:

Smeagol: Ooooo that pizza was not good for us, no, it was poison, the nasty, nasty, nasty pizza is trying to hurts us, it wants to hurts us, poor us, bad pizza, bad, bad, bad pizza! We should feed it all to the nasty hobbitz…

It is like black hole opens up in the middle of my most nauseated moments and that black hole is lined with taste buds and er…smell buds? It will want only one thing (or three very random things like sushi for breakfast) and once it has sucked this food source into itself, it promptly shuts down and decides that everything else is pure evil, including the rapture producing meal I have just ingested. Evil, evil, evil. I woke up this morning feeling as though the three slices of The Best Pizza I Have Ever Eaten last night were the equivalent of a terrible drunken binge. What was I thinking? I could taste the garlic on my breath. The thought of pizza made me want to swing my head over the side of the bed and vomit. Taking a whiff of peanut butter however, was enough to make me groan with pleasure. Plain old cheap salted peanut butter…my current mana from heaven.

The last time I was pregnant, Sol was only 14 months old, so he wasn’t really aware of what a wreck I become. He wasn’t trying to have conversations with me. Now I have TWO children trying to have conversations with me while I am face-flat on the floor complaining about how I can smell every single footprint in our nasty-ass carpet and don’t even get me started on our dog’s breath…

The world has become a place pulsing with scent and I run from pocket to pocket of safety. If I find a good smell, I want to trail after it, hide in it, beg it to let me stay awhile. Let me say that public restrooms are a place no newly pregnant woman should ever have to go. Poor Dan has to put up with me smelling like a man for awhile because out of all the deodarants and shower gels we have right now, the only ones I can handle are his. I love his deodarant. I love his shower gel. Dan, on the other hand, is not so keen on me running around smelling like an attractive bloke.

Okay, I better get back to work. This blog is now starting to have its own scent.

Grow little Clarke baby, grow! The baby is now the size of a lentil and has a heartbeart…isn’t that crazy? Beautiful.



  1. LOL!!! I loved the gollum-smeagol trains. And I’ll love you, no matter how sexy and studly of a bloke you smell (or perhaps even…). I’ll find you cans of air (like from ‘Space Balls’) that can be your temporary salvation from the aromatic cacophony inundating you. Sending scent-free-and-tummy-soothing hugsies.

    • I figured you wouldn’t mind if I walked around smelling like a studly bloke :o)

      I really am such a Gollum-Smeagol right now. I am so glad that Dan has become a pro at this and really, really wants this baby because he is being such a sport.

      The thing is, as exhausting as the nausea is, it is usually a good sign that the pregnancy is healthy and on track, so that at least is reassurance. But dang, six more weeks of this seems an eternity! Ah well, it will be my last run, I should relish every insane moment of it, right?

  2. Ah the descriptive sights, scenes,…and scents of young family life.

    We’ll get you a bottle of the new perfume: Androgeny, the smell that’s human…

    : )

    I just finished an entire course in Child Growth/Psych, so following you just got even more interesting oddly enough.

    • I need a scent called “Quarantine” ;o)

      And I am glad you will be deriving some extra interest because believe me, my blogs get wilder as the hormones increase! I was blogging when I became pregnant with Zaviera and when I look at some of those blogs, well, whoooowheeee! Thank goodness everyone who was reading had become a good friend by that point. During my pregnancy with Sol I hadn’t discovered blogging and I wasn’t writing the way I am now, so I had to channel all my mental energy into random middle of the night emails that family and friends still bring up.

  3. I love the reference to the kids and husband as the hobbits, so perfect. I so remember being in that space, Ryder was 3 when I got pregnant and it was not easy taking care of him while lying on the bathroom floor most of the first tri. Oh and food was such a battle, constant gollum-smeagol moments so perfect, you made me laugh.

    • What you wrote on FB about ‘just wanting to watch movies all day’ that is me right now. Luckily the kids are at a good age and playing with one another a lot so that helps take some of the pressure off of me but I am going to be pretty useless for the next six weeks. I wish I could put everything but the pregnancy on pause for this first trimester: parenthood, university, housecleaning, etc. and then restart it at the 13 week mark! I love the rest of pregnancy, but I remember getting so worn out just a few weeks into this nausea…it is so difficult to function and function no with a smile, especially when you have two little beautiful hobbits who don’t understand.

  4. Hey you, CONGRATES!!!! Sorry, I didn’t know…. otherwise I would have said congrates sooner. I haven’t been doin the blog thing, you know me. Now I really have to come over for a visit. Talk soon.
    hugs and love, non

    • Noners!!! You really *should* do the blog thing ya’ know. See all the crazy news you miss out on because I am too frazzled to write emails?
      Thank you! I am due end of December at this point, but it is early days and we haven’t had any scans yet.
      And yes, you DO need to come over for a visit!

  5. awwwwwwwwww ❤

  6. Okay, now I feel guilty for not dropping in sooner. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I like how you label it “affectionately harrassing one another,” because that sounds a lot better than “bugging the shit out of one another.”

    As for your nausea, you may want to invest in a set of noseplugs to go with those earplugs.

    • Hey, all good marriages are a recipe of respect, love, and friendly harrassment. I consider it a higher form of flirting ;o)

  7. Alegra – you are too funny! I’m so honored to be featured in your blog about my happy harassment of PJ. He is so cute and his Tom Foolery makes him so easy for me to pick on! Your stories of nausea are making me fear the next stages of life (hhmmm child-bearing!)

  8. You are such a funny critter! I Love Ya!

  9. Oh, and Noni…yeah, you should do the blog thingy! It’s fun!

    Hope you are well!

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