Just about every time I step foot in a Market Basket I find a reason to never go back. I begin to cringe as I drive into the parking lot and see the madness that rivals the mall on Christmas Eve. Once inside the situation only gets worse and I can confidently tell you that every time I am there I see 3 out of 4 of the following: Old lady on a motorized cart who cant decide which side of the isle she wants to be on, larger Americans walking side by side at a snails pace causing a traffic jam, dumbass parents allowing their 4 year old to push the cart while they load cases of Miller Highlife, and of course you cant avoid the 15 year olds who are always in training checking you out/bagging…. and this is where my story begins.
A few weeks back, on our weekly Sunday trip to Fun Basket, we encountered not only one but two 15 year olds at checkout! And if this wasn’t already enough their 17 year old manager was there as well. The fiasco started when we passed along our 4 reusable shopping bags. I’ll admit, I was skeptical about these at first but after the first use I was hooked. The amount of groceries you can pack into one of those bags is amazing! (If I’m not mistaken, my last sentence is what they call in the literary world “foreshadowing”) As 15 year old #1 scanned our items, 15 year old #2 was bagging, and 17 year old manager was chatting with them both about their weekend plans…all while tossing our pineapple back and forth between hands. Clearly she was too distracted by the conversation to realize that this was not common practice for someone else’s tropical fruit. 15 year old # 1 did very well; he was able to hold a conversation and scan our groceries in a timely fashion. 15 year old #2 was immediately overwhelmed with the daunting task of talking and bagging at the same time. He started off by bagging in plastic. I quickly reminded him of the reusable bags and he appeared to be back on track. Fail. The first reusable bag was filled with a half gallon of milk and some orange Juice then tossed into the cart. Bag number two was slowly filled with a bag of Pirate Booty (a staple of Amy’s pregnancy diet for a while) two pounds of spaghetti, and some lettuce before being placed into the cart with the first. This trend continued over the next 5 minutes until we had ¾’s of our groceries still waiting to be bagged and no reusable bags left. Seemingly perplexed, 15 year old #2 broke from his conversation and very nicely asked “is plastic ok for the rest?” I said yes in hopes of him finishing up before the store closed that night while Amy almost burnt his head off with a death stare. She started to add items herself to the bags he had already assumed full in the cart. Noticing her frustration both 15# 1 and manager start to bag things as quickly as possible so we could be on our way. About 4 steps from the register she said loudly “this is ridiculous we don’t need all these plastic bags, we bought the reusable ones for a reason!” We proceeded to re bag EVERYTHING that we purchased neatly into the 4 bags we had provided before tossing about 15 plastic bags into the trash and walking out the door. This is my life.
First off, I would like to thank Amy for yelling at me to update my blog.
I think it’s safe to say I’m currently in the eye of the hurricane that we call pregnancy. There were a few rough weeks there in the first trimester when the hormones were raging and the Zimmel household was in a stir. Thankfully, now that we’ve reached the second trimester, I must say things are going well! We had the big ultrasound last week and along with measuring every inch of each baby to ensure they are growing as they should, they told us officially we’re having twin girls!! They are both healthy, growing as they should, and appear to be happy little girls.
The only complaint that I have, and it’s nothing I could hold ground on, is the twins are starting to grow at an exponential rate which of course means Amy’s belly is as well. It seems like every other day I hear “Nothing fits me anymore, we need to go shopping!” Now don’t get me wrong, I understand the need for new clothes as time progresses, but we legitimately need to replace her entire wardrobe! The frugal side of me (or as Amy calls it, cheap) thinks there needs to be a larger secondary market for pregnant women to buy and sell maternity clothes. I used the Google machine and aside from some online retailers, I couldn’t find too many local consignment / second hand stores that focus on maternity. Maybe I’ve found my calling in life!
Now back to the Hurricane. Like I said, I’m currently surfing in calm waters just waiting for the third trimester to blow in and take me for a ride. I’ll be sure to keep everyone in the loop on how crazy the storm gets!!
The biggest expense of Amys pregnancy is the cost of ice cream. Thankfully, most of the time when a craving hits, it’s just a trip to the freezer to select 1 of usually 5 or more 1/2 gallons of Breyers that we stock. Occasionally, she has other specific requests that can’t be met within the Zimmel household. These requests are either soft serve ( I priced out buying a machine, not cost effective ) or a specific flavor of traditional that you can’t buy in stores or at least “its not the same”.
Last Friday we were out and stopped to fulfill a craving on our way home. She ordered a small moose tracks in a cone and was practically drooling in anticipation of the first lick. To her surprise, when the girl came back, the ice cream was in a cup and had the cone stuffed upside down. The girl apologized saying that the ice cream was soft so it needed to be in a cup. Amy accepted and we moved towards the car using the included spoon to take a few bites. Not more than 12 seconds later she gets pissed, places the cup on the center console and says “this sucks, its too soft, its not what I wanted, I wanted a cone”. I quickly jumped into action by offering resolutions to this catastrophe but Amy, now almost in tears, wasn’t having any of them. I put the car back in park and said ill go get her whatever she wanted, she just needed to tell me what. After a few moments of debate she decided on vanilla softserve with rainbow sprinkles. GREAT, problem solved. Now I just had to walk in and try to explain this to the 15 year olds working in order to swap out the soup that I had in my hand for a new selection ( I’m not cheap, I’m frugal). I decided that honesty was the best policy so I said ” I hate to be a pill but, I have a pregnant wife in the car who wanted ice cream on a cone and this was too soft for that. Can I swap it out for a soft serve” the girl kinda laughed, said no problem, and proceeded to produce the biggest amount of vanilla soft serve I’ve ever seen on a cone and covered it all with sprinkles. I thanked them, delivered Amy her ice cream, and off we went.
This is my life.
First off, for my 3 loyal readers, I apologize for the delay in
fresh material. I have spent the last few weeks assisting my loving
wife with what’s called “nesting”. It’s a phenomenon shared by all
females of the animal kingdom and is defined by ParentingWeekly.com as
“The uncontrollable urge to clean one’s house brought on by a desire
to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old
projects and to organize your world.” Now, I completely agree with
having a clean and organized home. I also would never argue with being
prepared for the twins arrival. However, I can confidently say that
they will NOT be spending anytime in the basement in the near future.
Just because we have some areas that aren’t as organized as they could
be does not mean we are or will be bad parents. I’ll have more on
Today I’d like to discuss crying. Not just crying, but specifically
Amy crying, multiple times a day…for no reason. We saw a puppy being
walked by an elderly lady the other day – instant tears. Any reference
to babies whether in print, internet based, or television means she
cries. Because she is out for the summer vacation she now is able to
watch Ellen on a daily basis. I was forced to sit through an episode
that she had DVR’d last week and I couldn’t even tell you what the
episode was about. I spent the whole time dumbfounded by how she could
go from dying laughing, to instantly crying. When this first started happening I genuinely felt for her and wanted to comfort her. After I realized how often it was happening and for reasons I found to be completly ridiculous, my feelings changed and I started to laugh at her when she started to cry. Thankfully, my laughter usually causes her to laugh and she is then stuck in the semi awkward cry-laugh until her hormones make up their mind on how they are currently feeling.
All in all things are great. Both are measuring as they should be and we should know the sex of both of them at our next apt. in two weeks. Amy is convinced they are both girls, I’m hoping for at least one boy but I’d really be happy any combo. Either way, Uncle Ben Yaris is going to spoil them rotten. He said he would if I gave him a shout out in my next blog post.
When Amy was deciding what to name my blog I jokingly, multiple times, said to Amy “I’m going to call it twinning” she gave a half hearted laugh and said it sounded great. When the time actually came and she was forcing me to start this, she said ” I thought you were going to call it twinning”? I gave her an awkward look and at that moment realized she had no idea that Charlie Sheen had coined the phrase while sleeping with twin hookers on a cocaine and booze bender. She immediately used my full name (which is when I know she isn’t amused) and said “Michael, that’s gross.”
Since Amy is now 13 weeks along I have a lot to write about… I’m going to try to write these more frequently over the next few days to catch everyone up on my hell. I mean life. I can honestly say the phrase ” the calm before the storm” is a bunch of bs. When your wife is pregnant it’s the storm before the hurricane before the tsunami before the earthquake. But of course… It’s all worth it in the end!
My wife proposed the idea of keeping a blog during her first pregnancy. Naturally, being the loving husband that I am, I encouraged it. A few weeks later she turned the tables and decided it would be interesting to hear the fathers point of view while his wife is pregnant. Naturally, doing everything my wife tells me to do, here I am. The only caveat I had was that I was going to be the sarcastic and honest person that I am and she couldn’t get mad at me for anything that I wrote. She agreed… but I still plan to push the limits of my wife who is already raging with hormones and hope to get some humor at her expense (I love you, Amy). Thankfully, if needed, we have a very comfortable couch which I don’t mind sleeping on from time to time. Please note that my editor, aka spell check, would like you to know that he can only do so much with my spelling and grammar. You should expect numerous and potentially humorous spelling and grammatical errors throughout this blog.
So, down to business. After months of trying (nothing like questing if your boys can swim or not) we found out in March that we are expecting our first child. Fast forward 30 seconds and we found out we’re expecting our second child as well (At least two of my boys can swim!). Yup, fraternal twins!
We are obviously both overjoyed and are looking forward to what these two will bring us. And as my creative juices start to flow I’m excited to share the ups and downs, trials and tribulations, and sheer horror of being the husband to a pregnant wife of twins.
Next up: Twinning. Wait, that means what?