in which my life is like a frat pack movie...except not at all

i'm at that point in the pregnancy wherein i wake up every two hours to pee. people say it's the devil God's way of preparing you for the little sleep you get with a newborn, but our almost-two-year-old has only recently begun sleeping through the night, and i am well-acquainted with sleep deprivation. i don't need a prep course in that. what i need now is to sleep!

i try to limit nighttime liquids like a five-year-old bed-wetter, but it doesn't really make a difference because this baby is squishing my bladder until it's basically the size of a golf ball. i feel a little like this guy:

"maury ballstein: balls models." photo: zoolander

except i think his problem was that his prostate was the size of a golf ball. no matter. on a related note (but only vaguely), this summer at camp, someone taught dylan to do "earmuffs." (in the movie old school, vince vaughn teaches his kids to cover their ears when he says "earmuffs," so that he can say grown-up things without polluting their little minds.)

not that anyone had any swearing to do in dylan's presence (it is a g-rated christian camp!), just because it's funny to make babies do party tricks.

ah, but she has turned the comic tables on us and reinterpreted the joke. last night at dinner, jim was trying unsuccessfully to convince dylan to eat a bite of chicken. she looked at him, weary of the same script, covered her ears, and said "earmuffs."

we looked at each other, incredulous, and tried really hard not to laugh.