Posts Tagged ‘TMI’

Stacey thanks YOU (on this LAST DAY of Naked Thanks!)

Saturday, November 13th, 2010

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Well, here it is. My 365th entry on Naked Thanks. You, my dear readers, are the recipients of today’s note, and I hope you understand how much I appreciate your reading this blog.

Truth be told, I’ve never done anything every day for a year. Well, except maybe wipe my ass and brush my teeth. And some days, not even that (I mean, brushing my teeth…I always wipe my ass). But in all seriousness, I’ve LOVED doing this gratitude blog. Finding some little (or big) thing every day for which I am appreciative has been something that I’ve throroughly enjoyed. Plus, I think it’s made me grow as a person.

Going forward, I’ll still be posting to Naked Thanks, I’m sure, but definitely not as often. I’m going to try to put up pictures and snippets here and there, and I’m sure I’ll continue my thank-you writing for the rest of my life, but with a new baby, I just don’t think I could manage forming a coherent sentence, let alone writing, scanning, and posting these entries any longer. I mean, geez, I can barely write with any semblance of grammar or readability now, so with a new infant, fat chance! So truly, the timing on this blog couldn’t have worked out better.  It ends and just mere hours later I have a baby popped out of my belly.  You’d think that was planned, but it wasn’t.

So, I’m me signing off!  NAKED THANKS, everyone, for reading my drivel for the last 365 days.

XO

Stacey

This is how I'll remember this year: having a gut and having a blast with my wild little boy.  Naked Thanks has been a great online diary.  BYE!

This is how I'll remember this year: having a gut and some serious FUN with my wild little boy in tow. BYE!

Stacey thanks the people share that too much

Sunday, September 26th, 2010

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So now that I pretty much look like I have a beach ball under my shirt, I’ve really started to notice people coming out of the woodwork offering me their thoughts on pregnancy, nursing, and the stretching of one’s vagina. In the past 48 hours, I’ve had a myriad of people approach me with their strange comments and advice — all unwanted — of course.

For instance, a woman at the post office asked me if I was planning to nurse. When I told her yes, she conspiratorially said to me that I should rub my nipples in breast milk to avoid chafing. Jesus. What the hell do you say to that? “Gee, thanks! I can’t wait to douse my boobs in my own lactation! Can you pass the stamps?”

Then I had a woman come up to me in the grocery store the other day and ask when I was due. When I told her the c-section was scheduled for November 16th, she replied, “Oh good for you! You know, between you and me, my vagina has never been the same since I delivered naturally. I still leak pee every once in a while.” TMI, lady! That wasn’t the mental image I wanted while loading my shopping cart with cartons of lemonade!

I’ve come to realize the whole stretching of one’s vagina is something that people are apparently dying to talk about with perfect strangers because why else would all these random people broach the subject with me? It’s like I have: “Talk to me about your giant hoo-ha: I want to listen” tattooed on my forehead. It’s just sick.

Other topics I’ve been hit with while filling my gas tank or getting a pedicure include: Unwanted facial hair during pregnancy (from a woman I swear had the worst five-o’clock shadow I’ve seen in a while), the benefits of kegel exercises (this one is actually a personal favorite coming from my former company’s head tech guy), and the prospect of drying my placenta to make jerky (I kid you not, while standing in line at the butcher).

People always say they have issues with people trying to touch their belly when pregnant. At this point, I’d welcome a belly rub if it meant I didn’t have to listen to some stranger tell me they craved their own poop while pregnant or something equally disturbing!

Somehow, I don't think this book prepares women for the insane-as-hell comments people on the street will offer up to them.

Somehow, I don't think this book prepares women for the insane-as-hell comments people on the street will offer up to them.