Shitters Full!

"That there's an RV, Clark. Now don't go fallin in love with it, cause we're taking it with us when we leave next month." Cousin Eddie – National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Oh, and we will be taking it with us. Because we own it. Yes, you read that right. Now you're probably wondering how we came into owning our very own RV at the ripe old age of 30 (which is coincidentally 30 years younger than any other diesel-pusher RV owner out there.) Actually, I am wondering the same thing. Because yesterday at this time, we didn't own one. Yesterday at this time we had first class plane tickets to Michigan, leaving a week from tomorrow. Today, however, I am barreling down Highway 59 at 70 miles an hour in a 36 foot beast that feels as big as my house, with two smelly dogs lying on the floor next to me (who am I kidding, Bella is on the couch), and Cousin Eddie at the wheel.....

Yesterday started out ordinary enough. I was making my morning coffee when Kevin asked if I wanted to ride to Seguin with him. It's a 2.5 hour drive, so I don't know why he even bothered to ask. Sit in a car with a screaming infant for 5 hours or hang out on the couch and watch Ellen? The answer was obvious, have a great trip though. Then he told me he was going over there to look at and most likely buy an RV that he had found online that morning, when he got up at 5 am because he couldn’t sleep (note to self: buy Kevin Ambien.) Well, crap. Do I stay home and let him make the call as to how much we HAVE to have it? Or do I suck it up and go along for the ride so that I have 2.5 hours to talk him out of it? Then he pointed out that I couldn't complain about it if I didn't go along to voice my opinion. An hour later, Greyden and I are loaded up and barreling down the highway at 80 miles an hour in my husband's company roller skate car.

Two and a half hours later we were pulling into the dealership, and casting our eyes upon the most amazing RV ever. At least that's what it was if you talked to Kevin. My reaction was more along the lines of "that's it?" Although I have to admit, it's pretty nice. I told him that if he wanted it to go ahead and buy it. Had I known how much that simple phrase would turn my life upside down, I would have kept my mouth shut. Next thing I knew, not only did we own it, Kevin was planning our first road trip in it. For the following day. Because now that we had an RV, we could take the dogs to Michigan with us for the holidays and save ourselves over $600 in pet sitting costs. In theory? Great. In real life? Not so much. For one thing, after we bought it we wouldn’t be getting home from Seguin until 8 at night. And I know Kevin. He would be up at the crack of dawn and trying to get on the road, which would involve a lot of yelling at me to hurry up and get packed. For another, the trip was supposed to still be a week out. Meaning I had done nothing tangible for it so far, since I had what I thought was plenty of time. Once we got home, I would have about 10 loads of laundry to do, an RV to clean, and a suitcase to pack. Oh, and a baby to take care of. And worse, a baby to pack for as well. I could already feel my stress level rising.

I was ready for the plane ride. My Type A personality had the entire thing choreographed, from what to pack for use on the plane to what to designate to our hosts in Michigan to have on hand for us. I’d been thinking about it for weeks so that we didn’t have to take along our entire nursery and cram it into the overhead compartment. I wanted to make sure we weren’t those parents on the plane. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones that practically show up with a crib for the ride. Also known as the ones that have the infant that SCREAMS for the entire flight. Or as the parents sitting next to me. (But never behind me. Those parents have the toddler whose legs are just long enough to connect with the back of my seat. Over and over and over.) Regardless, I was prepared.

Now as I sit here writing this, I find myself with the wide open road ahead of me and the entire nursery behind me. Honestly, I tried to pack lightly. But my nice, streamlined packing plans went straight out the window when I discovered I had 36 feet of storage and an infant with NEEDS. Diapers, wipes, extra pacifiers, a pack and play (with extra sheets of course), baby monitors, the bouncer seat, burp clothes, a baby carrier, stroller, and every item of clothing in his closet. Because you never know what the weather will do. And what if my parent’s washing machine breaks? I HAVE to have enough clothes for him.

Such is the life of the Hockenberrys. This isn’t the first time we randomly jumped in the car and headed up to Michigan. One time we were sitting on the couch at 11:30 am after I had just gotten laid off from my job. It was July 3rd and I suddenly had a lot of free time on my hands. In an effort to distract me and get my mind off my job loss, Kevin decided that we should drive to Michigan. We were on the road within an hour (although we soon realized that having 20+ hours to stare blankly out the window while thinking about how I have no job is not much of a distraction.) Another random moment was our move to Houston. We decided that it sounded like fun (and it sounded warmer than Michigan in December), even though neither of us had ever been there. We jumped on a plane, flew down for a long weekend over New Year’s Eve and bought a house. So we never actually do anything according to plan. Which means I shouldn’t be surprised that my first class ticket will go unused. Because now that we have an AAWWRRRR-VEEEEE (as the redneck salesman called it), the road is calling our names. Guard your driveways.

Return of the Maternity Clothes

I have a slight problem that I really wasn't anticipating. Remember how I was hell bent against maternity clothes? Mainly because I hate to shop for them, but another big reason is that they're not very flattering. Okay, not flattering at all. I have yet to find a pair of maternity jeans that makes my ass look small. Which is one of the reasons I was SO excited to have this baby. Once I had him, I could pack up the maternity clothes and get them out of my life for good! (Or at least get them packed into a tote so they'd be ready for the next one. Right Kevin? Kevin? Hello?) Unfortunately there is one teensy, tiny glitch in my grand plan. I'm 7 weeks post-partum and, um, I might still wearing them. Those 34 pounds that were supposed to fall off right after I birthed the watermelon vetoed me. Okay, I'm being slightly dramatic. Only 14 of them vetoed me. I was slightly off in my estimate that Greyden would weigh 25 pounds at birth. He only weighed 20. Which leaves me with the stubborn 14 pounds left to lose.

Trying to lose weight around the holidays is usually impossible anyway, this year it's going to be hell. I don't can't say no to food. Especially since I'm really good at telling myself that it's the holidays so I only get to eat like this once a year (you know, like I told myself when I was pregnant that I could eat whatever I wanted since I only get to eat like this once. So I'm going on what, 11 months of that mantra?) Needless to say, the maternity clothes that I was so excited to get rid of are still here. And they will be hanging around for a little bit longer. What's funny is that I knew it would take a while to get back to my pre-pregnancy size. So I should have also known that there would be a period of time post-birth when I wouldn't be able to fit into my old clothes. Of course, I don't have the slightest idea what I thought I'd be wearing during this time. All I know for certain is that it's definitely not my old clothes. And it's not that elastic waisted jeans are uncomfortable, but I guess I should have bought a couple more pairs to last me through my "transition phase." To make matters worse, I'm currently at the stage where my pre-pregnancy jeans are a little too tight and my maternity jeans are a little too loose. I spend a lot of time each day hoisting them up. God forbid they add belt loops. And god forbid I bend over in front of you. You'll catch more than your eyefull. But as miserable as I am rotating my two pairs of jeans, I'm not willing to go out and buy more maternity clothes. Nor am I willing to go out and buy bigger non-maternity clothes. Because THAT my friends would be admitting defeat. Besides, I figure there's no better motivation to lose weight than to pull on elastic waisted jeans everyday.

Checking In!

Weeks Post Partum: 7 Weeks!

Total weight gain/loss: Only those first 20 pounds. But I have recently started back to the gym, so hopefully that will change soon. Kevin wasn't exactly thrilled when I made the decision to go back. Most likely because I made my announcement in the wee hours of the morning. He awoke to me poking him and whispering that I was going to the gym and he needed to watch Junior. In my defense, Grey was still sleeping so it wasn't THAT much work. I did have to defend my position later and point out to him that if I didn't lose the weight by the time I returned to work, I would be spending at least $500 on new work clothes, which would be a total waste of money since I will only be wearing them a few weeks tops. After all, those last 14 pounds are going to melt off like butter in July.
Maternity Clothes: I'm rotating on two pairs of jeans. I am back to my normal shirts even though they could stand to be a little bit longer for when my jeans fall down. Luckily at this point in my life my wardrobe only needs to consist of jeans and t-shirts so I'm hanging in there for now.
Sleep: Me? Not so much. But Junior is doing pretty well. For the first few weeks he was up every 3 hours like clock work. Now he's going longer stretches. Usually 4 or 5, maybe 6 hours at a time. Unless Kevin is gone and I have to get up with the baby by myself. Then he inevitably reverts back to every 3 hours.
Best moment this week: Spending time with my Mommy's Group. Not that we do much besides talk about our babies, but at least I'm not doing it by myself while I'm home alone all day anymore. I was starting to worry myself.
Worst moment this week: Christmas shopping. The traffic and stores have been a mess lately. I had originally planned to get all of my Christmas shopping done early this year since I was going to have so much free time to do it. Let's talk about how that's been going for me.
Food cravings: Can I keep this one on the list even though I'm not pregnant? I can honestly say that for the first time in my life, I'm not craving pizza. After eating it 3 times in the last week (not even counting the leftovers) I'm officially making time to plan a menu and cook this week. In all my free time.
What I miss: Being able to quickly pop into a store for a necessity (or a Christmas present) since I have to haul a car seat along each time I leave the vehicle. And speaking of car seats, I'd say a close second would be being able to drive more than 5 miles at a time without replacing the pacifier....
What I am looking forward to: Going to Michigan for a belated Christmas and NYE visit! Notice I said going to Michigan. Not actually getting there. I have a feeling that getting there with an infant in tow is going to be more than an adventure.
Milestones: Greyden is finally growing! As of this past weekend, he's officially out of the newborn sized clothes and into the 0-3 month sizes. Yes, at 7 weeks. I have no idea where this little peanut came from.

Feed Me!

I love to cook. Cooking is my version of a glass of wine and a bubble bath for stress relief. But cooking with an infant is not my cup of tea. Most likely because I haven't mastered the art yet. Nor have I put much effort into trying to learn. Because even I'm not dumb enough to try to stand over a stove while holding an infant. I'm a hazard to myself, no need to involve a helpless child. Besides, all I have to do is even consider cooking dinner and Greyden gets fussy. Probably because he'd rather go to Buffalo Wild Wings with Daddy instead. So with my luck, I'd end up halfway through and he'd decide that it was time to freak out and I'd never get back to it. (I'm picturing the fire department having some involvement here.)

What really gets me is that I shouldn't have to worry about cooking right now. Remember that pre-baby to-do list that I posted about while I was still pregnant? One of the things on that list was to make up a whole bunch of freezer meals. My plan was to have the meals all assembled and in freezer to oven bakeware so that all we'd have to do is pop one out of the freezer and into the oven for dinner, my reasoning being that I wouldn't have any free time to cook dinner every day while caring for a newborn. Of course being me, I was stressing over how much I had to make and how I had ZERO time to do it. (Ha! Had I only known then what I know now. I can't even figure out what I used to do with all my free time back then). Kevin comforted me by telling me that I would be home all day and I'd have a LOT more free time than I thought I would. (Blind leading the sightless anyone?) Then comes baby. And for once Kevin turns out to be right. I do have a lot of free time. Unfortunately that free time comes with the slight catch of having a baby on my boob arm 24/7. Not exactly condusive to hanging out over a hot stovetop, huh?

And not only did I mess up by not making my freezer meals, insult has been added to injury. One of my friends on Facebook recently had her baby. Last week her status update said that she was so thankful for everyone who had brought them freezer meals when the baby came. She then went on to say that she wasn't going to have to worry about cooking dinner for an entire month. HOLD THE PHONE! Where do I find these Freezer Meal People??? I seriously messed up in my pre-baby planning. Instead of putting "make freezer meals" on MY to-do list, I should have put it on everyone else's to-do list. This stupid pregnancy brain obviously has me not thinking clearly enough! (Oh, all right. I accept. You can all feel free to send food now! Heeheehee.....)

I have managed to do a little bit of cooking since Greyden arrived. I've cooked dinner maybe twice each week, but only when my back-up was home from work. And it really helped that Thanksgiving came when it did, because at the conclusion of the Shagene Thanksgiving Invasion Kevin and I had leftovers for the entire next week. (That's one of the benefits of having people drive in from Michigan. They can't steal my leftovers.) Of course after Kevin and I had eaten "Thanksgiving Dinner," for the fifth day in a row, I would have paid them to come back and take the rest home with them. The thought of turkey still makes my skin crawl.

Of course if you think I'm hungry, you should see Greyden. You would think that the world was ending when he's ready to eat. His normal schedule is sleep, then wake up, get changed, and eat, hang out for awhile, then go back to bed. Then repeat. And repeat again. And again. Again... Anyway, he woke up from a nap a couple of weeks ago ready to eat as usual. I remember being impressed because he had went for three and a half hours since his last feeding instead of his normal 2.5 to 3. I had him on the changing table where he was fussing up a storm and looking like a goldfish trying to find my boob, so I put my face down by his to talk to him and calm him down. Next thing I know, he gets this crazy look in his eyes, grabs two fistfuls of my hair, and starts shaking his head back and forth while pulling my face toward his like a crazy person. I swear, he looked possessed as he tried to eat my nose. Needless to say, after that little incident we don't mess around with pleasantries. He's up, changed (preferrably by Kevin who doesn't have long hair), and latched on to mom before you can bat an eye. In an effort to gain some sympathy, I told my family about that incident and Grey's desperate need for food the second he gets hungry. I mean, look what I have to deal with everyday people! All I got in return were a bunch of "I wonder where he gets that from" looks. What...he doesn't get it from me.

1 MONTH!

Greyden is one month old today! Wow, how the time flies. It seems like I just had him a week ago! Of course that could be because I've only gotten the equivalent of a weeks sleep since I had him. Yet, people are always telling me what a good sleeper he is. I don't know about good, but he's nothing if not consistent. He's eating every 2.5 - 3 hours through the day and waking up to eat every 3 - 4 hours at night. We've had a few nights where he went 5 hours and one where he went 6. I'll take what I can get at this point!

Birth: 6 lbs, 3 oz, 18.5 inches
Leaving hospital: 5 lbs, 14 oz
1 week: 6 lbs, 3 oz, 20.25 inches
1 month: 8 lbs, 2 oz, 20.5 inches

Even at a month he's still a little thing! I'm hoping he'll eventually get into the 0-3 month clothes. Right now, we're still hanging out in the newborn section.

I had a really cute little outfit on him, but of course that ended up in the dirty clothes hamper within an hour of putting it on him. So his 1 month pictures are in a boring onesie. Oh well.






You talkin' to me?

Seriously mom? Another picture?:

Giant Sneeze!

Apparently our photo shoot went a little too long, because he eventually started tipping over:

Girls Gone Child

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a scheduler. I never go anywhere without my planner. Yet in the last 3 weeks, I have went from a Type A personality who scheduled everything in my life, to a Type A personality who is confused as to why I suddenly can't schedule anything in my life. All while making myself crazy trying. But everything in my life now centers around the child. What about me? I am a firm believer that the center of attention should always be on (or at least really close to) me. (I kid, I kid!) I'm actually happy to share the spotlight with our new addition. He's an amazing little guy. After all, how many people can eat, poop, and sleep all at the same time? (Besides Daddy, of course.)

I won't lie though, the past few weeks have been tough. There has been one hell of a learning curve associated with a first born child. Did you know babies have cues? For example, whenever he is hungry, he starts to chew on his fist. Or he'll start opening and closing his mouth while rooting around, kind of like a baby bird. He usually only does that one when he 1) sees me, 2) hears me, or 3) senses that I have walked into a room. So pretty much all the time. My existence has literally been reduced to that of a human boob. Great. Oh, and just because he's yawning and his eyes are closing and/or rolling back in his head does NOT mean he's ready to sleep just yet. Or anytime within the next 4 hours.

This week was especially rough on the sleeplessness front. I am running on fumes. And before you start blaming the baby, let me tell you Greyden was fine. We had one night where he was so overtired he could barely keep his eyes open, but refused to go to sleep. I have never seen anyone struggle so hard to stay awake, besides the dog, who we refer to as Harley Party for that very reason. No, the sleeplessness stemmed directly from the Thanksgiving Party Animals that took up residence in my house last week. (That would be my parents, my brother, my sister, and my brother-in-law.) Apparently having a new baby in the family hasn't slowed them down near as much as it has me. It actually appears to have done the opposite and given them a reason to celebrate. A lot. I'm used to going to bed at 8:00 10:00. These people didn't even think about shutting down until 11 or later. Or even 3 am as I discovered early one morning when I was awoken by the sounds of a guitar and singing coming from the kitchen, courtesy of my husband, sister, brother-in-law, and a bottle of Crown Royal. But honestly I can't complain too much. We had a great time and I loved having them here. It was so nice to have an extra set of hands (or 10 extra sets as the case may be) to hold the baby while Mom and Kerry I did all of the cooking and cleaning. Okay, maybe they did most (okay, all) of the cooking and cleaning. They even decorated my house for Christmas and put up the tree. That would have taken me forever to do on my own, if it would've gotten done at all, so I am eternally grateful for their help.

Thanksgiving 2010 (aka: The Shagene Invasion)

Kerry & Greyden



Greg & Greyden



Andrew & Greyden



Baby's 1st Thanksgiving



A baby gift from my sister. Have I mentioned that I love her?




Picking out the Griswold Hockenberry Family Christmas Tree. Yes, it's from Lowe's. Because that's how we roll in Texas.



There is a tree strapped to the top of my mini van. Please kill me now.



Me, Mom, Dad, Greg, and Greyden. In the parking lot of Lowe's. Picking out Greyden's first Christmas tree. Not my idea of the perfect baby's first visit to a Christmas tree farm, but whatever.



Too pooped to party anymore:

Welcome to the World, Bob!

Okay, it's been a while. Over two weeks to be exact. But I fully intend to keep up the blog. I'm sure it won't be NEAR as entertaining as when I was pregnant, but I'll do my best. Pregnancy was obviously the biggest adventure...

Eviction Day - November 1, 2010

We showed up to the hospital at 6 am on the dot. Okay, more like 6:10. It was early and my last day of freedom to sleep in, so I wasn't moving as fast as I should have been. (That and I was heading to the hospital to deliver the watermelon. I wasn't exactly looking forward to that part.) They got me signed in and started me on Pitocin around 7 am. I started contractions right away, but couldn't feel them until around 9:30. At that time the nurse told me that the anesthesiologist had two c-sections that day, one at 11:30 am and one at 1:00 pm. If I decided that I wanted an epidural, I had to let them know by either 10:30 to get it before 11:30, or wait until after 1:30. I was hanging tough and the contractions weren't bad at all. I told her I'd let her know later. Later ended up being about 20 minutes. Holy cow, those things can come on quick. By 10:00 I had made a few important decisions: 1) the fact that I was enduring the contractions was stupid. Why was I putting myself through this? 2) I was NOT going to miss my window of opportunity by trying to tough them out until after 1:00 pm and potentially not be able to get my epidural, 3) I was a goddess for even attempting to consider a natural birth, and 4) I am a wuss. Give me the damn shot.

The anesthesiologist came in shortly thereafter. Now, I'll be honest, I didn't even bother to look at the needle. I didn't need to. I was already PETRIFIED, no need to make it worse. I was shaking like a leaf (or like I was getting a tattoo - remember that Nikki?) and was shocked when he told me he was done. Besides the pinch of the numbing shots, it was nothing. As was everything thereafter. I hate to say it (and I'm sure I'm making some lifelong enemies), but labor and delivery was a piece of cake. They had me start pushing around 5:45 pm. Pushing actually ended up being the hardest part of the whole ordeal. I knew there was a watermelon somewhere that I was supposed to be pushing out, but I couldn't feel it. Evidently I was doing something right, because the nurse kept saying "right there! right there!" (and my husband kept saying "Git 'em girl! Git 'em!" which is coincidentally what he says to our dog, Bella, to get her to attack our other dog, Harley). Regardless of their encouragement, it didn't feel to me like I was making any progress. So I made the mistake of arguing that nothing was happening. The nurse assured me that we were getting there and asked if I would like a mirror so that I could see the progress. I must have looked at her like she had two heads and said "ummmm.....I don't know." Another wrong answer, because 30 seconds later there was a large mirror at the foot of the bed. THAT was interesting. Thank god they took it away before I actually delivered because I don't think Bob would have been to impressed to make his dramatic entrance into the world only to find mom passed out.

After pushing for over an hour, Baby Boy Hockenberry was born at 7:03 pm, weighing 6 pounds, 3 ounces and was 18.5 inches long. Unfortunately he was also a nice, bluish hue due to the cord being wrapped around his neck. He was breathing, however he was making small grunting noises with each breath. The nurses worked on him for a while trying to clear the mucus from his lungs, but he still wouldn't stop grunting. Both Kevin and I got to hold him for a couple of minutes, then off to the NICU he went, followed by Daddy hot on his heels. Mommy wasn't so lucky. I had to wait for the feeling to come back into my legs so I could get there. It took awhile for that and for the nurses to put me back together so I didn't make it to the NICU until 10:30 pm. Once I was there, I found him still grunting like a champion boxer. The nurse plopped him on my chest anyway and BAM! No more grunting. He just wanted mommy. The NICU nurses wanted to monitor him for a couple more hours to make sure the grunt didn't return, so we got to spend time holding him in the NICU before they told us that they were ready to bath him and send him back to our room with us. Kevin and I headed back to the room around 1 am, where I promptly sent him out for food since I hadn't eaten since 5:30 that morning. I'm not pretty when I'm hungry. We figured they wouldn't be bringing him back to our room until about 3 am, so we switched off the lights at 2 am to try to get some MUCH needed sleep, only to switch them back on 10 minutes later when the nurse knocked on our door announcing Junior's arrival. And of course he was hungry. There's no rest (ever again) for the weary.

The funny part is we still didn't have a name for him. We had been from one end of the alphabet to the other and still couldn't settle on one. Or any. We had been hoping that once we saw him, the clouds would part and his name would come to us. Yeah, not so much. The poor thing was nameless for the first 24 hours of his life. The birth certificate person came in the morning after his birth and asked if we had named him yet. We told her no, so she offered to come back 2 hours later. We asked what would happen if we still didn't have a name at that point and she said she'd come back 2 hours after that. We told her that she might want to save herself a trip and just come back after 4 hours. We were teetering between Mason and Greyden, even though all of our family and friends were already on the Greyden bandwagon. She ended up not coming back until late that evening and by then we agreed that he was definitely a Greyden. Greyden William Hockenberry. Grey for short. Although he's also Bubba, Punkin Head, Booger Toes, and Rose Bud. But oddly enough, he's not a Bob. Who would've thought it?

PS - It has come to my attention that I need to clarify my previous post. That is NOT me in the underwear shot. I have no idea who the poor girl is, but I'm hoping for her sake that it is Photoshop at its best. If that were actually me, you would 1) not find me posing in my underwear, and 2) not find me standing up. I'm at a loss as to how she's still vertical.

Me with my happy epidural button:


First family photo, right after delivery:


In the NICU:


Back in our hospital room:


How many blonds does it take to change a diaper?


Home at last!



At Daddy's 30th birthday party. Not quite the party animal just yet:


Little Old Man outfit:


Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 1:


Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 2:


Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 3:

And You Thought it Couldn't be Done....

Wow, 38 weeks. The week in which I said back at week 35 that I was going to go into labor. You know, for planning and travel arrangement purposes. I can only imagine the thoughts that were going through everyone's heads when I said that I planned on picking when I went into labor. I'm sure I got more than one eyeroll and even more laughs. Okay, so I was laughing right along with you. But now I'm just freaking out, because apparently I was right...

Last Wednesday I went to my weekly doctor's appointment figuring it would be just another routine visit: pee in a cup, check blood pressure, hear the heartbeat, and go to lunch with Kevin (since all of the events in my life revolve around food). No worries. Then the nurse came in to check my blood pressure. She pumped up the cuff, stopped, pumped it up again, and said "let's try the other arm." Then she proceeded to try it twice on the other arm. She said that my blood pressure was high and that she was going to go get the doctor. The doctor came in and checked the baby's heartbeat and said that it was perfect, but since my blood pressure was high we weren't going to be able to wait for me to go into labor on my own. Well, she actually said that it wasn't at a critical level so we technically could wait, but since it would only continue to go up, doing so could put both me and the baby at risk. She said that instead of letting it get higher and risking the complications, it was best to induce labor early and head off any problems before they begin. She said to come back on Friday and we'd see if my blood pressure had changed at all, but to plan on having the baby within the next 5 days. (I actually told her that I was sorry, but 5 days was impossible because I still didn't have a valence for the nursery. I plead that I was in shock at the time.) But we came back on Friday only to find that while my blood pressure was still high, it hadn't gone up and still wasn't at a critical level. The doctor gave me the weekend to get things finished up (she knows me all too well) and said to take it easy and relax.

So what does that mean? It means we have officially scheduled an eviction date! On November 1st, 2010, I will be induced. Yup, 38 weeks and 3 days. So I was off by a little bit. Whose laughing now? Probably still you, because I am a little too freaked out to laugh at this point. Not near as freaked out as we were on Wednesday though. And it's beginning to sink in. On the plus side we were able to make arrangements so that my parents can fly down for the birth. Before this change of plans they were going to wait until Thanksgiving before coming to visit. Now if when Kevin passes out in the delivery room, I'll have both my mom and my mother-in-law there as a backups. I can also guarantee that Bob WILL be here on Monday. How do I know this? Because Monday is my mom's birthday and she pretty much told me that I was going to have him on her birthday or else. I don't know if I'm more scared of labor or my mom at this point, but I am also not stupid enough to mess with a first time grandma. So Monday it is.

In addition to that little newsflash, I'm doing really good! I still feel great, but I'm watching for signs that I should go into L&D: headaches, blurry vision, nausea, etc. The only things that aren't great right now are my feet! I don't even have fat days anymore, I have puffy feet days. But I think the time has come to give up fighting them, although I think I've put up a valiant battle. I've tried elevating, ice, even cute nail polish, but my cankles still won. The fact of the matter is, they're huge. I was hoping that by making it all of the way to 36 weeks without swelling would translate into finishing up the last month with no swelling as well. The fact of the matter is, I was way wrong. Kevin has even tried rubbing my feet for me. Now before you start with the "awww, what a sweet husband" comments, don't get the wrong idea. I'm 99% sure that the reason he's doing it is because he knows that fat feet aren't enough to keep me home and on the couch. And since he's the one who has to be seen in public with me, he's making every effort to get them down to a somewhat normal size before having to hold my hand in public. But honestly, the fact of the matter is that this pregnancy has taught me a valuable lesson: NO ONE can make cankles look good.

CHECKING IN - WEEK 37!

Due Date: November 1, 2010!
Total weight gain: 34 pounds! And since I don't plan on weighing myself again before Monday, it looks like I'm not going to have to bump up the old goal to 40 pounds. I'll admit, I might have been starting to sweat a little bit...
Next Appointment: Monday, November 1. I'm reporting to Labor and Delivery at 6 am. Yes, at 6 AM as in THE MORNING. They won't even let me sleep in on my last day of freedom. Yes, I asked.
Maternity Clothes: Not for much longer! And since the doctor said I have to rest for the weekend, my maternity clothes are officially yoga pants, tank tops, and flip flops from here on out. I am in heaven.
Labor Signs: Well, I'm dilated 2 cm. But what does it matter?
Sleep: Yeah, like that's going to happen. I'm pretty much counting on staying up and not being able to sleep for the next 48 hours or so.
Best moment this week: I guess I'm supposed to say finding out the date I'm going into labor. But I'm still hanging out on the "oh HELL no, whose idea was it to have a baby" bandwagon at this point. I'm hoping to hop off it sometime before I deliver. I may require a good, hard shove between the shoulder blades at some point.
Movement: Still the same as before. He's still trying to make his own exit through my ribs. He would save a lot of energy if he'd just read the eviction memo we received earlier in the week.

Food cravings: Yes, please. This is it. The final weekend. And I'm not weighing myself. It's going to be an all out food fest from here on out. Whose with me???
Planning/Preparations: Well, I guess now would be the time to finish up the nursery. It may be a little easier now that we have a THEME. Yes, we finally picked one a whole week before the baby arrives. Go us! (Of course in our defense, we thought we still had 3 weeks.) Actually, I take that back. I tried to pick a theme 5 months ago. I spent countless hours online searching for bedding and ideas, to the point where I was so stressed out about it I almost had a meltdown. So I decided that instead of a theme, we're going to decorate around a color instead. Big mistake. At least with a theme, you know what kind of decor to buy. With a color, the possibilities are endless. And as I have said before, I am NOT a decision maker. That's the whole reason I don't like shopping. Give me 3 choices, I'm fine. Give me 147, and I have a panic attack. Anyway, we were in Hell Babies 'R Us last weekend to finish out our registry and while we're walking around aimless and confused, Kevin suddenly decided that he wanted a jungle theme for the nursery. I just about died. I believe my exact words were “so what you’re telling me is that 6 months ago when I asked how you wanted to decorate the nursery, and you said that you didn’t care and had no opinion, which resulted in me spending countless hours obsessing over finding bedding and a “theme” only to get completely stressed out and decide that I COULDN’T decide on one and would go with a “color” scheme instead, only to get even more stressed out and decide that not having a theme was too hard because I couldn’t find any decorations, and freaking out because I STILL COULND’T FIND A BEDDING SET OR THEME, and suddenly you’ve decided that you want a jungle theme? Really?????” His response? “Yup. I like this one” and he pointed to one. AAAAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!!! So now we have a jungle themed nursery. Just in time I guess. Here it is:

Belly Button in or out: Me: 1, Belly button: 0
Stretch Marks: As long as they don't pop up while I'm pushing, I think I'm golden.

What I miss: Not having a lead weight in the bottom of my stomach. And I'm not even talking about Bob. Ever since the doctor said my blood pressure was high and that we'd be inducing two weeks early, I have had a nice sized knot in my stomach.

What I am looking forward to: Again, I am supposed to say Monday. I'm hoping that by Monday, I'll actually believe it when I say that. It's still not quite real. Luckily, I was told that when I deliver the baby, the instructions come out first, followed by the baby, followed by a receipt. That makes me feel a little better.
Milestones: Besides having a birthday for the little man? Well, my rings are officially OFF. You know what that means....I'm SINGLE!!! (Which would be a lot more fun if I weren't approximately 2 days out from having a baby.)

38 week pictures!

I know I said I wouldn't do any bare belly shots, but in honor of having the big day on the calendar, I decided to bend the rules and throw at least one out there for your viewing pleasure. You're welcome!

And here's another one, this time clothed.

It's Finally Happened....

Remember how back in week 31, I was playing around with my "What to Expect When You're Expecting" app on my iPhone and discovered that I would eventually be delivering a watermelon? It's here. The app officially switched from cantaloupe to watermelon this week. I'm happy because that means that I'm almost done being pregnant. I'm also terrified because although I'm that much closer to my bottle of wine, seeing a watermelon on the screen means that said watermelon must come out soon. Since we skipped the birthing classes, I'm still not exactly sure how that is going to happen. Granted, I could just pull up some YouTube videos and learn from there. But I'm not sure which is worse, going in blind or learning about labor and delivery from YouTube.

Now that I'm 37 weeks, I'm full term! So if I were to go into labor tomorrow, they will not do anything to try and stop the delivery (no matter how much I beg and plead. Yes I have already confirmed this with my doctor, who I'm sure by now is telling stories about her completely sane patient (me) at happy hour each week.) It's obvious that I'm getting ready to pop. I mean, my belly enters a room minutes before I do. There's no sneaking around with this thing hanging on the front of me. My feet have also decided to jump on the pregnancy bandwagon and randomly swell to pregnant proportions multiple times a day. And you can literally watch them do it too. My ankle bone will slowly disappear and then all of the sudden, my whole foot is inflating. I'm sure jumping up and down on hard ceramic tile isn't helping the swelling either, but I don't really have a choice since it appears Kevin is hell-bent to get a picture of them. His iPhone comes out, and I start hopping around like the ground is on fire. I have to admit that it would make an interesting, albeit not a pretty picture. If he were quick enough to catch me.

CHECKING IN - WEEK 37!

Due Date: November 12, 2010
Total weight gain: 34 pounds! Looks like I'm holding onto my under 35 pounds goal for one more week. Barely.
Next Appointment: October 27. These weekly appointments (of which I've only had two so far) are already starting to get old. Especially since I know every time I go in there, the doctor is going to tell me that I'm still not making progress. It gets a little depressing after awhile.
Maternity Clothes: Screw the clothes. Let's talk shoes. Or lack thereof. I have finally given up on wearing my heels to work. Oh, I still bring them with me everyday, but they're pretty much just for show. Actually, I take that back. They are currently serving two purposes: 1) wearing professional shoes (or having them next to me on the floor of my office) fools people into thinking that I am still a professional, even with Fred Flintstone feet (as Kevin refers to them), and 2) they aid in fooling myself into thinking that I might have a chance of squeezing into them before the day is over. The power of positive thinking!
Labor Signs: At my appointment on Wednesday, I was still only dilated 1 centimeter. Yes, same as the week before. I feel like something should be happening since my stomach feels like it's hanging between my knees, but my kid apparently has other plans. He really needs to realize that in my world, we work on mommy's schedule. (Just ask daddy.) But he'll figure that out soon enough, right?
Sleep: HA! What sleep? Within a span of two days I went from waking up once a night to waking up 4-5 times a night, and that's if I can get to sleep in the first place. Last night I laid in bed for an hour trying to fall asleep while it felt like my blanket was trying to squirm out from under my stomach on its own. I think I could write a horror flick out of this stuff.
Best moment this week: TEXANS GAME! I almost didn't go and would have seriously kicked myself if I hadn't. (No I can't maneuver myself through that range of motion at this point, but pretend.) The game was by far the BEST game I have ever seen. Mostly because the Texans rallied in the 4th quarter and actually pulled off the win. Barely. To be there in person was beyond amazing. The suspense was enough for me to honestly wonder (while I was jumping up and down screaming at the top of my lungs) if this were the kind of thing that sends women who are 9 months pregnant into labor. According to the security people that we met while tailgating in the parking lot pre-game (one of whom was named Allie Kat - her parents were hippies), I would have been the first to do so at Reliant Stadium. They then requested that I please refrain from doing so, either inside the stadium or in their parking lot, if at all possible. Gladly.

Movement: He's definitely trying to get out, he's just not going about it through the correct exit (refer to blanket trying to squirm away above). He seems to think that if he pushes hard enough, he'll be able to make his escape somewhere out of the top of my stomach. At this point my ribs are still fighting back, but I am starting to wonder if they'll be able to hold out for much longer.
Food cravings: I'm trying to decide if I should go all out for the last 3 weeks of my pregnancy and eat whatever I want (since I'm not going to have this excuse for much longer) or control myself and be good. Would anyone believe that I'm suddenly craving all things edible? (Because THAT'S never happened before, right?)
Planning/Preparations: We did it! We actually worked on the nursery last Saturday! Now it is possible to walk into the room without killing yourself on piles of gift bags and little red wagons. The car seat adapter is on the stroller, we have a final inventory of what we still need, and all of the linens, blankets, and 0-3 month clothes are washed and ready to go. Although I'm seriously wondering how some of those onesies are going to fit an actual human being. They are so tiny they won't even fit my premie Cabbage Patch doll, Myron. Not that I have tried them on him. Or that it even crossed my mind to try them once I took Myron out of the stroller that I HAVEN'T been pushing him around in for the last two months.
Belly Button in or out: Flatter. And my belly button ring hole is now crooked and slightly skewed to the left. I obviously wasn't thinking this far ahead when I got THAT done now, was I.
Stretch Marks: None. Although I have started checking my feet in addition to my belly. I don't even know if it's possible to get stretch marks on your feet, but if it is, I can guarantee that I will have them.

What I miss: Sanity. It's amazing how much stuff we still have left to do. As much as I would like him to come a little early and get this over with, I think I am going to be needing every last day I can get. I'm still waiting on that "nesting" instinct that I keep hearing so much about to kick in.
What I am looking forward to: Making the last of the baby purchases and taking care of all the last minute details: financial advisors, wills and trusts, life insurance, and other boring stuff like that.
Milestones: Full term baby!

37 Week shot:

36 Weeks and Still Kicking

(Yes, I was supposed to post this last Friday and didn't get around to it. Leave me alone, I'm 9 months pregnant. (I've been dying to use that excuse!) Just pretend it is Friday. I even changed the post date to make you believe that it's been here along.)

I am at the point where I should be getting uncomfortable. Just ask anyone around me. The "poor thing" looks are starting to hit me from left and right with a vengence. I also got a phone call from the head of security at my company telling me to just "say the word" when I'm ready for my handicapped parking spot back. Yes, I said back. This is possibly the longest amount of time I have gone without being on crutches since I started at my company 2 years ago. Oddly, pregnancy seems to have made me less clumsy, although it wouldn't surprise me or anyone around me if I were to show up to work on crutches next week. (We actually haven't put them away from the last time just to make them easier to grab and go for the next time.) But back to the point, I'm slightly uncomfortable, but not near what people are telling me I should be feeling. I still feel great (yes, I knock on wood every time I say that). I'm still at the gym lifting and doing cardio before work 3 times a week, we're out walking the dogs in the evenings, and we even painted our entry way last week which involved a lot of up and down the ladder and lying on the floor to edge the trim. So I'm doing really well! (That being said, if my doctor were to suggest bed rest for the next 4 weeks, I don't think I'd complain.)


Thursday was a big day for us. It was our ultrasound to tell us approximately how big Bob is! When we got into the ultrasound room, the tech asked me how big I thought he was. Naturally I was completely honest with her and said right around 25 pounds. She laughed. I didn't. Turns out, I was slightly off. He is measuring in at 5 pounds, 4 ounces right now. They're estimating him to be in the mid to upper 6s, possibly low 7s when I deliver. Woo hoo! I was starting to get slightly nervous about delivering a 25 pound baby. We were hoping to get some more good shots of him before he comes out, but as usual he was sleeping (or pretendng to) and kept his hand in front of his face the entire time. So again, we have NO good shots of his face. I can however pretty much fill a baby book with the shots of the "goods." The kid is NOT shy.


CHECKING IN - WEEK 36!

Due Date: November 12, 2010
Total weight gain: 32 pounds. That means I don't need to change my goal just yet. So we're still trying for staying under 35 for one more week. Yes, I am fully aware that I will be changing the goal next week. I've also heard horror stories of water retention in the last few weeks leading to 10+ pound weight gains. So if I do have to up my goal to staying under 60 40 pounds, at least we KNOW it's because of water retention and not because of the Taco Bell.
Next Appointment: Wednesday, October 20. I am in the weekly appointment stage now.
Maternity Clothes: I'm so ready to be back in normal clothes. The whole maternity pants and belly panel thing is for the birds. Mainly because the belly panel is worthless and doesn't do a damn thing to keep my pants up.
Labor Signs: Since I'm at the weekly appointments now, they're starting to monitor me more closely for signs of impending doom. I mean labor. As of my appointment yesterday I am 1 cm dilated and 75% effaced. Meaning nothing. I say that because even though my body is preparing to deliver, I could be 1 cm dilated for one more day, one more week, or one more month. Bob is still head down, as he's been for the entire pregnancy and is riding low. So I guess mom was right when she said I had dropped the baby.
Sleep: Sporadic at best. I go for a night or two when a freight train couldn't wake me up (although the sound of a dog puking will have me on my feet in under 2 seconds) then I have the nights where I feel like I never fall into a deep sleep. I'm sure it's not going to get much better any time soon.
Best moment this week: My showers! I had two last week. The first was the one thrown by my friends. It was an absolute blast. And yes, I am saying that an actual baby shower was a blast. Let's see, it involved a lot of liquor, beer margaritas, and hot tubbing. Not that I could actually partake in any of that. Instead I resigned myself to partaking of the cake which was a pretty close runner up to the beer margaritas. (Okay, it wasn't even close, but it's as close as I could get.) We stayed overnight at the host/hostesses house and I think the final guests left around midnight (I only lasted until 11:30) and my dear husband didn't stumble come to bed until around 3 am. I'm taking that to mean that the party was a success. My other shower was my work shower thrown by my boss and one of my friends. It was a lot of fun and they even surprised me by inviting Kevin. Which having an outsider inside these walls is pretty much unheard of in my company. I was afraid that they'd have to kill him at the end to protect our trade secrets (meaning I'd have to find someone else for the midnight feedings and diaper changes), but he managed to make it out alive. And since it was a work shower there was no alcohol, but there were Jimmy John's subs and cupcakes. I can't have the alcohol anyway, so I was perfectly happy with that. If I have to suffer, so does everyone else.
Movement: We found out his position at the ultrasound on Thursday. He is still head down and LOW. Like, the doctor could feel it kind of low. His butt is up under the right side of my ribs and his feet are sticking into the left side of my ribs. Sounds comfortable, huh? I am kind of relieved at his positioning though. The little cone shape my belly takes on when he's pushing on me is caused by his butt and not his head. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't sometimes wonder if I were smooshing his head whenever I pushed the lump back in.
Food cravings: So I'm still not having cravings, but I will suddenly think of something that sounds really good. For example, last week I was brushing my hair when I suddenly thought about how awesome pistachio pudding would be. It was completely out of the blue since I haven't even thought about pistachio pudding in probably a year. I was too lazy to go to the store and get some to make though (or even to send Kevin), so I don't think that counts as a true craving. Kevin would have been disappointed that I was sending him for pudding and not a Big Mac anyway.
Planning/Preparations: Well, since we're in the final 4 weeks, the time has come to buckle down and really get to work on putting the nursery together. So guess what that means we are doing this weekend??? If you said going to the Texans football game on Sunday, you're right! Maybe that nesting instinct will kick in next week instead.
Belly Button in or out: Still in. Barely. But it is almost completely flat. It might just make an appearance yet. When it pops, that means the baby is done cooking, right?
Stretch Marks: Nope.
What I miss: Conversations that begin with something other than "how are you feeling?"
What I am looking forward to: Finishing up the nursery! Now that the showers are done, we can take inventory and see what else we still need. Yes, I know I keep saying finishing up. As much as it doesn't seem like it, I am aware that in order to finish something you have to start it. We're working up to that point.
Milestones: Confirmation that the baby has dropped. Just ask my bladder.

36 Week shot:

Random Musings from a Pregnant Lady (also known as Blogger ate my original post and my baby brain doesn't remember what it was about)

I remember when I first got pregnant (yes, even with my pregnant brain. It wasn't that long ago people). I was bombarded with advice (unsolicited), stories (horror), and list after list of the million and one things that you can't do/eat while pregnant. Most of which I've ignored. Giving up Blizzards during the one time in my life when I can suck them down without (as many) people staring, simply because they're made with soft serve ice cream? You've GOT to be kidding me. Now that I've put that phase safely behind me (okay, ignored it completely), I'm onto the next phase. Things not to do AFTER giving birth. For example, no lifting (Kevin! I dropped the remote again!), no illegal drugs while breastfeeding (I thought this went without saying, but maybe not so much?), and for the love of god "DO NOT CUT YOUR HAIR OFF." Now this last one hadn't occured to me, but judging from the number of people who have given me this advice as well as the number of articles on pregnancy websites saying the same thing, it appears this is a real disease among first-time moms. Cut your hair off so you don't have to deal with it while trying to take care of a baby. My hair is long and it's so easy to just blow dry and go or throw it into a pony tail. Cutting it off sure wouldn't make it any easier. If anything, life would get more difficult with short hair since I'd have to style it for the first time since 1996. Not to mention, I am not one of those people who can pull off a short hair cut. My face blows up like a balloon and lord knows I have enough balloons covering my body right now. The last thing I need is a giant one sticking out of my neck too.

Remember our brilliant and foolproof plan for choosing a baby name? We were each going to make a list of names that we liked and then compare them to see if we had any matches (if not, go fish). And I'm sure you'll be shocked to find out that yeah, our idea didn't exactly pan out. Why? Because, um, we might have forgotten to talk about them last Friday when the lists were due. Or, more likely, we both just pretended to forget and chose to ignore the topic instead. And then continued to ignore it for the entire week after that. I think the real reason the plan was aborted was because we were both nervous about what names the other had on their list. It was much easier to just avoid the topic instead. For example, I know that Kevin's list would have consisted of 10 names, all of them either Clay or Clayton over and over. Yes, he's still on that kick. However, big news! I think we finally picked a name. Kevin was out of town Wednesday night and randomly texted me a name out of the blue. From there the texts started flying and a name was chosen. Yes, by text. I asked Kevin (via text) why we were texting this conversation instead of talking on the phone. He replied (via text) that he finds me less intimidating by text. (I think that's a compliment, yes?) Regardless, he's excited to tell our kid that we named him by text. Not that the kid will know what text is. I'm sure he'll just assume that it's like those "DVD-thingys" that his ancient parents still have in a box in the attic. And just because I know how indecisive Kevin and I are, I'm choosing to wait before divulging the information. Because by next week his name could very well be Clayton.


CHECKING IN - WEEK 35!

Due Date: November 12, 2010
Total weight gain: 31 pounds. Yes, my goal was to stay under 30 pounds. So guess what that means! (If you said give up fried food, burgers, chips and dip, and Pumpkin Spice Lattes, you're way off.) Being up 31 pounds means it's time to set a new goal! Now we're trying for staying under 35 pounds. Until next week when I reserve the right to bump that up to staying under 40.
Next Appointment: Next Thursday for the measurement ultrasound. I'm excited for the ultrasound, but not exactly sure why I have to get measurements done. The kids is obviously ginormous. My estimates have him around 25 pounds or so. I mean, just look at my total weight gain above. That's obviously not ALL from cheeseburgers and Blizzards, right?
Maternity Clothes: I'm going to have to break down and buy some new shoes. My shoes are starting to split at the sides. Yes, I'm serious and yes, you can stop laughing now. I guess that means my feet are pregnant too? Payless, here I come.
Labor Signs: I can tell I'm getting close, because my belly is changing. It seems a lot lower and heavier now. I hadn't really thought about it until Mom told me that judging from my weekly pictures the baby dropped. Clueless me, my first thought was "How in the hell did I manage to drop him already? He hasn't even been born yet!" After a quick consult with Dr. Google, it means that the baby has moved into the pelvis to prepare for the descent down the birth canal. Maybe we should have taken that birthing class after all.
Sleep: Sleeping is a LOT harder when you can't get comfortable. Getting comfortable is a lot harder when you can't roll over. Rolling over is a lot harder when the baby in your belly weighs 25 pounds.
Best moment this week: Funny enough, it was the breastfeeding class we took on Tuesday. I was hesitant about taking it since it could have been a total waste of time, but in the end I decided to go through with it since I was even more hesitant about the information I was being bombarded with from the books I was reading. Like licking the baby. Which I can safely say was NOT mentioned in the class. (That lack of information / demonstration got two thumbs up from me to the Lactation Consultant that was teaching it. Although I'm sure she didn't know why the phycho woman in the back was giving her the thumbs up sign with a dumb grin on her face). The instructor was also fun - she demonstrated the different holds by pinning a stuffed boob to her shirt. Yes, just one.
Movement: He definitely favors my right side and I think he's moved into my ribs. Because that's really comfortable. For him, not for me. And of course that totally contradicts the whole "baby dropping" thing. I think I can comfortably admit to having no freaking clue as to what is going on in there right now.
Food cravings: Pumpkin Spice beer and candy corn! Can you tell I have a thing for fall? I am normally living on those things this time of year. And no, I haven't given in to my craving (for the beer only - there isn't a candy corn within a 10 mile radius that's safe from me right now).
Planning/Preparations: I guess we should probably get going on the nursery. We haven't touched it since we painted and we still need a chair, curtains, and decorations. So yeah, pretty much the entire room. Because god forbid there are no decorations on the wall when he's born!
Belly Button in or out: HA! Still in. And no, I'm not posting a picture. I tried to take one yesterday and it is pretty much the scariest looking thing you've ever seen. Now if I could get a bottle of wine in me, I'd probably be posting pictures left and right. This is one of those rare instances where I'm actually thankful that I can't drink right now. Drunk blogging would not be good.
Stretch Marks: Nope.
What I miss: Pumpkin Spice beer. I am so sad that I have to sacrifice a whole season of it! We obviously didn't consider the important things in life when planning this baby.
What I am looking forward to: Our baby shower, ahem, Baby Bash this weekend! (I have to say Baby Bash in order to get the guys to attend. What self respecting guy would show up to a Baby Shower?) My girlfriends are throwing it for us and it is going to be awesome. And I'm not just saying that because they keep reminding everyone to bring their $1 bills (for the dice game people, not for the strippers). They have put a ton of effort into it. And best of all, we're having Mexican food catered in. I am insanely excited!!! (for the party too, not just for the fajitas and chips).
Milestones: I have reached my 35/35 milestone. That means that I am 35 weeks along and have 35 days left. Holy cow, that makes it seem real doesn't it? Especially since I've decided that it's in the best interest of all parties involved (especially those traveling in from Michigan and those that have hunting season to work around - you know who you are) for him to come early. I'm thinking 38 weeks. So everyone can go ahead and make their travel plans accordingly. (You do get to pick when you go into labor, right?) Also, in honor of my 35/35 milestone and how hard I've been working on being pregnant so far (ha!), I have decided to treat myself to a spa day! So this afternoon I'm taking off work and getting a prenatal massage, facial, spa manicure, and spa pedicure. I can't wait. (I may have to work hard at being pregnant next week just so I have an excuse for another spa day.)


35 Week picture:

Walking on Thin Ice

Not me of course. With my current size I'd go right through the ice so walking on it is not even an option. I'm talking about Kevin. Why do I say this you ask? Because I popped again. In the span of a few short days, I look pregnant all over again. I have no idea what happened or how my belly could look any different than it did last week at this time, but it does. Even people at work are asking me what happened. It's also not something that my dear, sweet husband is willing to let me forget. He seems to think that the sudden re-popping of my belly is hilarious. Poor thing - he doesn't seem to realize it his life is hanging in the balance and he's on some seriously thin ice. Allow me to explain:

Monday - Kevin and I go out to lunch. On our way back to the office to drop me off he accidentally turned into the Shipping & Receiving area instead of the front lobby parking lot. Before I could even open my mouth to make fun of him for missing the drive, he says "Hellooooo! I'm here to drop Leah off for work!" and proceeds to make the "beep! beep! beep!" sound (while laughing hysterically of course) as he backed up and turned around. I am HIGHLY disappointed in myself. How could I not get my smart-ass comment out before he did? Is this what they mean when they say the baby is eating your brain?

Tuesday - We decide to hit up a local Mexican restaurant before our Newborn Care class. Two baskets of chips and a giant shrimp burrito later (yes, all for me), the waitress brings us our check and asks me (in her broken English) how much longer I have to go.

Her: "How long?" (while she's making an arch with her hands above her belly)
Me: "6 more weeks"
Her: "ooooooohhhhhhhh...........biiiiiiig." (as she walks away)

Now I was perfectly content to chalk up the conversation to the Spanish/English language barrier. Anyone who has ever eaten at a Mexican restaurant in Houston knows that the servers are only guaranteed to know 3 words: chips, salsa, and margarita. The rest of the ordering process involves a lot of pointing at the menu (which usually says obscure things like "Beef Fajita Burrito with Smothered Cheese" (OH MY GOD THEY KILLED THE CHEESE!) or "Pork Tacos, Pulled for your Pleasure" (Yup, not going there). Now I know that the waitress was obviously commenting on how long (or as she called it, big) the time is that I have left before I deliver. I agree, 6 weeks is still a big time! However my dear husband didn't quite agree with my translation because as soon as she left he looked at me (while obviously trying not to laugh and failing miserably) and said "ooooooohhhhhhh........biiiiiiig. How much should I tip her honey?" Really? Did he just go there? I was not impressed. And lucky for her, he was the one filling out the tipping information. My "tip" would have involved a lot more writing than just $4.00 in the tiny little tip space.

Thursday - Kevin and I have what we call our Wedding Pig. It's a ceramic piggy bank that my mom gave us for our wedding that is custom painted and says "Leah & Kevin's Wedding Fund" on the side of it. The wedding itself is obviously long over with, but we still use it as our change collection jar. For some reason I love filling that stupid thing, so it's become a running joke in our household that when Kevin comes home with change in his pocket, he tells me that I have to say "oink, oink" before he'll give me the money to put in the pig. (And for the record, I don't actually do it. I prefer the tackling method to get the money from him instead.) So last night we both come home from work and I make him take my weekly bump pictures. This of course leads us into a discussion of how much bigger my belly has gotten, even since earlier this week. Suddenly he stops talking, his face lights up, and he reaches into his pocket and says "Hey! I've got something for you! Say oink, oink!" as he pulls out a handful of change. Wow. That joke suddenly has a whole lot of NOT FUNNY going on.

CHECKING IN - WEEK 34!

Due Date: November 12, 2010
Total weight gain: 30 pounds exactly. And it's only going to get worse. I realized earlier this week that I only have 6 weeks left of eating with abandon! Obviously I need to take advantage of my situation before it's gone and I'm expected back in my size 6 jeans. Therefore, my new rule is if it's deep fried or has the potential to be deep fried, I'm game.
Next Appointment: Two weeks. This one includes an ultrasound to see how big the baby is getting and how he's positioned. It still won't tell us anything about how much longer (bigger) I have, but it will be fun to see him one last time before he makes his grand entrance.
Maternity Clothes: Blah - One of the downfalls of playing it frugal (okay, hating to shop) and not dropping tons of money on clothes that I can only wear for 4 months is that the ones that I did suck it up and buy are starting to wear out. I guess I should have expected that as I only bought one pair of brown work pants and one pair of black. Luckily, in addition to being a beer-finding goddess, I am also a domestic goddess (meaning I own a sewing machine but have yet to turn it on) and can easily find my way to my tailor.
Labor Signs: Just the BH contractions. At my doctor's appointment yesterday, I apparently had one while my doctor was listening to the baby's heartbeat. As I was laying on the table she asked me if I felt it. I had no idea what she was talking about, but she said she watched my entire stomach get hard and push downward, then totally relax. I was oblivious to the whole thing. It was still too early for me.
Sleep: Even though I still wake up at least once a night, I am sleeping HARD. The kind of sleep where my alarm goes off in the morning and I turn it off without even realizing that I've done it. So far this has not been a bad thing, but I haven't missed any important meetings because of it either. Yet. It helps that we have two dogs who are on their own schedule which involves getting us up at 7:15 every morning. I'm curious to see if they'll keep that up once they're up 3 times a night with me and a baby. My guess is not so much.
Best moment this week: Taking our Newborn Care class. Not because we learned anything new or because it was so informative. Nope, taking it was the best moment because we FINALLY got to cross something off our to do list. Hallelujah!
Movement: Judging by the sudden expansion of my belly he obviously had a growth spurt this week. I can tell he's running out of room from the lopsided, perma-lump protruding from the right side of my belly.
Food cravings: Pumpkin Spice Lattes from Starbucks. Although I can't really attribute that craving to being pregnant. I go nuts for them every fall. And this year is the best yet since I don't even have to justify the calories. I'm about one latte away from actually turning into one.
Planning/Preparations: I'm only 6 weeks from my due date, which translates into 3 weeks from full term. Once I hit 37 weeks, they don't try to stop the labor. So now I'm freaking out because while we have our random name ideas, we still don't have one (or any for that matter) that is set in stone. We finally made an agreement that we'll each make a list and compare them to see if we come up with any of the same names. Those will then go into the hat for consideration. Our lists are due today. (Yes, we had to set a due date because this actually isn't the first time we've tried this method of name picking. However last time we tried it, we didn't even remember to make our lists, let alone discuss them later. You can sense the urgency radiating from us, right?)
Belly Button in or out: With my belly's sudden growth spurt it's even flatter now than it was before, which I didn't think was possible. I may get brave and post a picture someday.
Stretch Marks: Nope.
What I miss: Going to work with only one pair of shoes. I currently wear my flip flops wherever I go. Yes, even to work. Once I get to work I kick them off and put my heels on. Okay, I set my heels under my desk so that if I have to go to a meeting I can put them on. But 95% of the time, I'm barefoot. It's wonderful to finally have an excuse.
What I am looking forward to: My next Pumpkin Spice Latte. Seriously. They're that good.
Milestones: I'm at the "getting stuck" phase. I've discovered that I have a mild tendency to overestimate the space I'm trying to fit through while underestimating the size of my belly. (No one told me that depth perception issues were a symptom of pregnancy.) Case in point - last Sunday we were at our friends Jill & Kenny's house for the Texans vs. Cowboys football game. I was sitting at the kitchen table and had to get up (yes, for seconds - don't even say it). So instead of walking all the way around the table (and thus taking the long way to the food), I decided to take the shortcut and maneuver through the 12 inch space between the back of Kevin's chair and the refrigerator. After all, I would normally have been able to fit. Not so much this time. After getting halfway through, getting stuck, yelling (or trying to yell with the back of the chair wedged under my ribs) "Okay, I'm stuck! I'm stuck! I'm stuck!", and taking out Jill's large ceramic floor vase during my struggle to free myself, Kevin finally heaved a big sigh and kindly scootched his chair in enough for me to finish squeezing by. Which was obviously nice of him, but I'm pretty sure I could have made it on my own. When he got up for seconds.

Week 34 - Rocking the Expano-Gut:

I'm happy to report that we must finally be getting the hang of the whole picture taking thing, because these are the only two shots that we took this week. I'm sure you won't believe it, but normally it takes about 15 (okay, 30) before we get a good one that doesn't make me look like the Michelin Man. It also doesn't help that my photographer is apparently a firm believer in candid shots and doesn't always like to warn me before he snaps the picture. This leads to most of them being of me talking, making strange faces, or scratching random body parts.