Sweet CP WC Skillz

Note:  This is not a drinking-friendly post.  If you're holding a glass of apple juice or warm beer, you might want to finish it, then return to this.

I am a woman of limited skills.* 

Actually, that's not true.  I have an amazing ability to rapidly achieve mediocrity in almost anything I've ever tried (can I be proud of that, please?), with the exceptions of snowboarding and competitive fitness.

Learning to snowboard (winter 2006) was a painful, slow, awful, steep, painful (did I say painful?) and humbling experience.  On the 7th lesson of the 8-week program, I finally stayed on my feet for one entire S-curve.  The rest of the time, my claim to fame was being to get up again very quickly after I wiped out, after spending only seconds (tenuously) upright.  At one point, there was a pig-pile of about eight of us, despondent, dejected and bruised, watching a very old man slowly snowplow by us on skis.  "Oh wow," someone breathed.  "That looks awesome."

The other notable exception was competing in fitness.  The whole thing is suspicious, frankly, and I don't think I'm out of line to call "shenanigan!" on it.  First, what are the chances that my ongoing love of muscles, acrobatics, extreme bounciness and high heels could come together into one sport, just for me?  It seems a bit too orchestrated, or intelligently-designed, if you will.  And second, I'm still suspicious of a sport that I did so well in.  If I was that good, it obviously can't be very hard, and thus I really shouldn't feel as ridiculously proud of my trophies as I do (the only trophies I've ever won, as you don't get trophies for mediocrity, apparently).  To sum up, as it is a pretend sport that was apparently created just for me to make up for a childhood and adolescence devoid of any great performances (aside from the "I'm Short" speech of 2010), it really shouldn't count.

Hey, remember this look? Next time I go onstage, I'll make sure that my fake eyelashes aren't gluing one eye half-shut. I promise.

Which brings us to the ongoing struggle to develop new skills -- dare I say expertise -- as an adult.  I did some research and decided to focus on an activity that I've worked on (and succeeded at, briefly) in the past:  peeing in a cup.

As a pregnant lady, you are expected to pee in a LOT of cups.  A lot.  Every time you see a doctor, a nurse, a lab technician, or even just a latex glove, you are required to produce a little cup full of pee. 

The first few times I went in, it was a bit messy, I admit.  But as the months go by, I got better and better at it - more in the cup, less ... well, everywhere else.  With each of my bellies, in months 5-7 of pregnancy, I think I could have competed in the Cup-Peeing World Championships (which I'll shorten to "WC" for fun).

But like every good sports psychologist and Human Kinetics student knows, there is a performance curve.  Now, I'm not saying that I've psyched myself out of producing a quality cup (and a dry hand), but I'm just admitting that, perhaps, lately I have been feeling "off" and "missing the mark". 

I blame not being able to see jack squat.  Or myself squat, for that matter.  It's really just a guessing game at this point - am I aiming right?  Or am I even holding a cup?  I don't know.  Do I still have feet?  No idea.

To sum up, I have now peaked at the one thing that I've been completely awesome at lately.**

Maybe I should go back to competing.

Random Foot Check, 22 October 2012, at 34 weeks pregnant. 
Sometimes I can't even see the floor, let alone my feet. 
Yesterday, in the car, my belly actually startled me into tears, it looked so big. 
I'm ok now. 
Snif.

Second Child Syndrome?  Ha!  Try Third Child Syndrome! 
This is the most recent ultrasound of Punchy, and, I believe, the only one I've uploaded so far. 
Oh, the parental shame. 
You can eerily creepily actually see its eyeballs. 
The position of its tiny upraised fist make it look like it's knocking on my uterus, as if to say, "Please let me out now." 
Or possibly, "Why you little..."

*Ok, fine.  Limited marketable skills.  Better?

** Although I DID make a pie about which Chris said, UNPROMPTED, was one of the best pie experiences he'd ever had.  (The secret is the vodka.)  (Shhhh.)