Minor Frustrations

1. I'm sick (not too bad, but enough to be annoying), and I can't use any conventional medicines to fight this sore throat and head/chest cold.

2. The Motherhood Maternity pants with which I was so impressed initially really let me down. Now that I'm getting closer to fitting into them, I decided to wash them over the weekend so they'd be ready for me to wear. Wouldn't you know the damn things shrunk four inches, even though I washed them (almost exactly) according to instruction. I'm going to try calling customer service tomorrow to see what, if anything, they can do for me. And for what it's worth, the pant shrinkage was the straw that broke the camel's back and initiated my second hormonal meltdown, to date. After a night of poker with the guys, Brian came upstairs at 11 p.m. Saturday to find me still in my bartending uniform, sitting on the floor in the nursery, having yet to eat dinner, staring at all the furniture boxes and packing styrofoam, and sporting a Gene Simmons look, with mascara and eyeliner running down my face via tears onto my tux shirt. I managed the Alfred Angelo experience earlier in the day, the low blood sugar and the overwhelming amount of work to do in the nursery alright, until I found that my pants had shrunken so much they became unwearable. Then I couldn't control the sobs, although my rational mind really, really wanted me to get a grip.

3. Speaking of Alfred Angelo, they're ordering me a new dress. No, the non-maternity dress they sold me and assured me would work in June with free alterations did not cut it. It fit almost perfectly now (OK, the boob area was a *bit* snug; helloooo new VS bras, now you're coming in handy), and although it was a beautiful dress, it simply did not have the "give" or extra room to accommodate an eight-month pregnant woman. The girl helping us calmed me by informing me they switch dresses out for pregnant women all the time. She looked up the notes from the file and told me that they'll make the call when I come in for alterations: if the seamstress couldn't alter the dress to make it work, then they'd order me a new one. Then I clarified for this young woman ("Merry" was her name, believe it or not) that I would not seek alterations or a fitting until about two weeks before the wedding, as I will likely be gaining a pound or more a week at that point. Yeah, she didn't think that far ahead, and I was right in assuming two weeks was not enough time to get a new dress. A different young sales clerk gave us all a laugh a bit later, when she said "well, if this is all the bigger you are at five months, maybe you just won't get big, and this dress will fit perfectly for the June wedding." Really, that's what she said. My dear mother-in-law quickly assured the early-20-something sales person that no, she was sure I would get big, and this dress simply wouldn't do. Now I don't at all mean to sound discriminatory against young adults, as I'm sure my comments here and about the staff at Bar Bleu may make me seem. No, I'm not judgemental toward young people; I'm judgemental toward effing idiots (who jut happen to be young) who are supposed to know what they're doing better than you, the paying customer. So Alfred Angelo is sending the old dress back, and they ordered me the maternity dress, big-belly-darts and all. Oh, and for the cherry on top of the situation, the new store manager (the manager who promised me free alterations to make the dress work has since departed or been fired - all that was clear was that she's gone) had NO IDEA what maternity darts were or that the store offered a maternity dress. Gotta love it.