Welcome Back

...old friend. Have I ever missed you!

(In the spirit of Grateful Fridays, I want to reiterate, as I have before, that I love my Swiffer Wet Jet. With a big ♥.)

I have lived without you since September 26, 2007. That's 5 months of missing you. (And I'm pretty sure that pregnancy math does not apply to mops.)

That was the day, that sad, sad day, that the dumb movers broke your back. ::sniff::

I tried to operate on you, but you hurt too much to mop my new floors. I tried to give you a break by using the old-fashioned, on-my-hands-and-knees method of mopping, but seeing me in that state of disgrace just made you hurt even more.

Finally, you spoke to your people, and decided to make the ultimate sacrifice, and put the new model on super sale...two weeks after I found a hefty coupon. You knew I loved you more than a woman should love a cleaning product, and you made it possible for me to go on. Proudly mopping my floors to a sparkly state of gleamy clean.

I am not ashamed to show you how clean this new model gets my floors. I am not ashamed because it proves how clean the other methods didn't get my floors.

Oh, how I love the Swiffer Wet Jet.

(and maybe I'll even be brave enough to someday bake muffins like Secret Agent Josephine on my recently wet-jetted floor with The Yipper)

A HA!

So THAT explains it!

I got a call today that explains a LOT.

My OB's office called to say that I do not have gestational diabetes (which is not a surprise), but that I DO have anemia!

Woo hoo!

Now, lest you misunderstand my excitement, lemme 'splain.

For the vast majority of this pregnancy, I have felt like a super lazy louse. (Not that lice are lazy. In fact, they are pretty active parasites, if you ask me, but I liked the alliteration.)

Now, Mom, before you go Googling your way over to the March of Dimes' website on pregnancy anemia, there is nothing to worry about. Over half of all pregnant women get anemia. I just have to take an iron supplement to, um, supplement the iron I already get in my prenatal vitamins and diet. No biggie deal.

I'm just so glad to know that there is a better reason for my lethargy than "but you're growing a human" because I know tons of women who grow one, two, or more humans, and aren't nearly as lazy as me!

And I'm going to run right out and get said iron supplement.

Right after I take my nap.

'nighty night!

The sunrise I didn't want to see

This morning started for me something like 6 hours ago (and it's only 10:00 here).

I awoke to the pitter-patter of little feet sometime before 4am. Thoughts running through my head were: Are you trying to stand up in there? Are you training for your first marathon? What are you doing, baby?! Are you nocturnal?

I was awake when Dave came to bed (darn, stinkin' PhD) sometime around 4am.

I was (still) awake when Dave got up to get ready for work sometime around 6:15am.

I finally fell asleep around 7am (that baby was ACTIVE!).

Then my cat woke me up at 8am. Thoughts running through my head were: This house better be on fire, kitty cat. Are we being invaded by aliens? What do you WANT?!

And I finally gave up at about 9am. I opened my eyes to a beautifully clear, warm, sunny day. Then I opened the blinds, and opened the windows.

I knew it would be a beautiful day, though, since I took this photo at about 6:15. The photo just doesn't do the color palette justice. It was a gorgeous sunrise. I'm glad I saw it, but I sure as heck didn't want to be awake at 6:15 to see it!

91 days left (27 weeks)

Gosh.

If you look at it like "Hmm, I've got 27 weeks in me, and 13 weeks to go..." that means I'VE HIT MY THIRD TRIMESTER!!!! Gah!!

(where did the time go?)

(wasn't I supposed to have a rockin', energy-filled, food-filled, glowing, blossoming "second trimester" in there somewhere?)

The math confuses me, I must admit. Normally, I'm pretty good at math. I even like Differential Equations from Calculus. Heck, I even liked Calculus. (Nerd!) But Pregnancy Math? Those OB/GYNs must not have liked Calculus very much. Or Algebra. Or even 4th grade math! Somehow, last week I was somewhere like 5 months along, and now I'm 7 months along? I just don't get it.

(sigh)

It really ratchets up the pressure, though.

Pressure, schmessure. I'm relaxed. I watch my belly for entertainment (because there's still nothing good on the stinkin' boob-toob). I nap.

I don't know all the places that I'm gaining weight, but I have noticed a "thickening" around my neck and my underarms of all places! (and my back got "thick" months ago) I don't know about my hips and thighs...mostly because I can't really see them anymore. I don't think my ankles are getting swollen, but, again, I can't see them. :o)

I don't appear to have any stretch marks yet, but I'm sure I will. What you see below are pajama wrinkles. :o)

I've still got an "innie" belly button...sort of! It's getting much much flatter...which is nice, because now I can really get in there and clean! In fact, I found a Duran Duran pin that I lost back in 1988. I'm going to put it on eBay and fund my child's education.

The Yipper is still moving and squirming like a champ. I don't know that she's kicking me in the ribs, yet, but she does move so quickly sometimes, and so...I don't know...completely (as in, not just a kick, but her complete body) that it catches my breath. I'm getting more used to it, but it still makes me laugh to watch my belly warp and move completely independent of my own brain. It's like there's an alien in there!

Here's a side shot -- looks kinda pokey-outey in the front, eh?

I've still got The Nose. The Pregnancy Nose. Where you can smell anything out of the ordinary. I still can't feed my poor, starving, unloved (Alley Phat) her beloved soft food because I just. can't. stand. the. wretched. smell. And I can still smell that Dave has scooped the cat litter about 30 minutes later. Oh, and I can even smell when he's got the iron turned on. How weird is that?

And I'm slowly, ever so slowly adding things back into my diet. I successfully at chili yesterday. The last time I ate chili was way back in October, and, well, there was some un-pretty, un-ladylike activity that went on in the 20 feet between the recliner and the toilet. So I was a little nervous yesterday. But it was a success! Yay for chili! And I'm eating some chocolate. Not much. Maybe one or two bite sized pieces during the day. But mostly I'm still eating the safe foods I've been eating for the last 4 months (or is it 3? Or is it 5? Still confused.)

As you can see below, over the last month, my girth has increased by 1.5 inches, and I'm 35" around. If I'd measured last night, it would have been bigger. :o)

I've been out buying baby clothes (and shoes! Such cute shoes!) Not a lot of clothes, but, well, enough that my child will never have to go naked! We have the crib, and when my dad, step-mom and brother come to visit this weekend (Yay!), The Men are going to put it together, while Jen and I shop. (I'm thinking of hiding the instructions just to kick up the fun a notch...whaddayathink?)

I plan on registering soon, but I'm going to have to ask the Internets for some maternal guidance before I do that. Like wipe-warmers or no? Diaper GenieII or Diaper Champ? Oh, so many questions I will ask one day this week.

And my sleep patterns? They suck. Well, okay. That's not fair. The word "pattern" implies repetition, and expectancy, and reliability. When it comes to me and sleep, there is no such thing.

Anyway, here's my "widest point" shot. It's measuring 36.5", but the camera was falling over, so it should look more like 37". I think last month, I was at 35", so there's growth there, too.

Other than that, all is well. We are going to visit the hospital soon, and we start our birthing class in a few weeks. Big fun, eh?

That there's the latest! Have a great week.

The Turning Point

Today I had a watershed moment in my pregnancy.

Not the traditional, dictionary-type watershed.

Nope. More like the traditional, pregnancy-type watershed.

Yup. I sneezed.

Do You See What I See?

Look, look, LOOK!!!

Do you see what I see?

Do you see soft, cozy Snuggle Flannel? (which, for a short time only is available for $2/yd at Joanns)

Do you see bright and stimulating receiving blankets? Do you see fun and crazy burping cloths? (because every child needs the opportunity to puke on cute fabric, doncha think?)

Do you see a fun, froggy rag quilt that will be perfect for tummy time with The Yipper?

Do you see those cool, hip, retro owls? And the vibrant "I ♥ tennis"? And the fluffy slippers on the wee ducklings? And those CATS! How cool are they? (Yes, Jen, Carmen Miranda was with me when I was shopping. The Yipper is your grandchild after all!)

Do you also see that I better dust off my old sewing machine and get crackin'? (I am the slowest seamstress I know!)

Hundred's Night

Where Dave went to college, 100 days before graduation, before their "commencement ceremony", all the members of the senior class (and their significant others) celebrate. And the shin-dig is called "Hundred's Night."

I got to thinkin...

(nope, didn't hurt too much)

...why can't WE celebrate Hundred's Night? Why can't we celebrate 100 days till the biggest "commencement" of our lives?

So, Saturday night, we got all dolled up, in our celebrating finest (well, not really finest, but we would have been way too fancy in our fancy fancies) (plus, my fanciest fancy wouldn't fit right now!) Before we got in the car to drive north to Pasadena, we took this little picture for your viewing pleasure:

Our first destination of our celebration was an absolute favorite of mine: The Melting Pot. Yummmmmmm. Me loves the fonduzle.

Dipping perfectly healthy fruits and vegetables into hot, melty, swirly cheeeeeeeese. Mmmm. Hot diggity dog. Or, as they used to say "Good stuff, Maynard." (see the melty, swirly cheese below? It was SO yummy-yummy-yummsters!) (What a great way to add some calories to this Mama's belly!)


After I scraped every last molecule of cheese out of the pot with my fingernails ate the last bit of the cheese appetizer, they brought out the broth for us to fry our selection of meats. (too bad you can't cook the meat in the cheese, eh?) Holy cow, that place is amazingly good.

Then, after two hours of pure gluttony, we went down the street to the movie theater, and watched 27 Dresses (finally, right?) (which, by the way, was very good. I might have even shed a wee tear.)

Late that night, we got back on the highway, and drove home. I think I slept most of the way. (a perfect ending to a perfect night, right?)

Thanks, Honey, for a great Hundred's Night!

The Do

After much ado. (and much teasing)

And then nothing.

Here 'tis from the front:


And the short short (are you singin' "who loves short shorts..." in your head, too?) Sorry. I got distracted. The back:

Hmph. It appears to me that she didn't do such a great job cutting it straight across the back, did she? :o) Or, could be that my hair just grows funny, and that she tried, and tried, and kept trying to get it straight...which could explain the shortness! :o)

It's growing on me, but I can't be nearly as lazy with it as I was with my last non-do.

And maybe one day I will tickle your funny bone with evidence of what "bed head" really looks like nowadays! :o) (that is, IF I can muster up the courage!)

WAY Mod

Well, it's that time again. Time for my annual shearing. I didn't think it would be as dramaaaaatic as it was last year. At least that's not what was going on inside my head. The outside of my head? Umm...

I've mulled on this for months (as is my habit), and decided now was a good time.

So I went to a professional, name-we-all-recognize, rhymes-with-"blevayda" salon. (Because I'm learning that you get what you pay for).

I wanted to keep the color, but as for the length, I wanted to go short...

ER.

ShortER.

I'm thinking the stylist didn't hear that last part.

(taken a week ago at Hermosa Beach)

I like the idea of the new style. I like how it looks on other people's heads. I think it looks cute on my head (from the front). It's just the rest of my head that I'm worried about.

I think there are some parts of my head where Dave's hair is longer than mine. And if you know Dave (and the rules about his hair length) that's sayin' something, folks!

But I'm not gonna give you a picture of it, yet. :o) You'll have to wait while I taunt you with your own imaginations.

(By the way, today is EDD: 100! We call it "Hundred's Night." I can't believe in one hundred pennies I'll be a mama to a human!)

The Whole World and the Baby, too.

Today I found a board book for the baby with 10 Sunday School songs, and a CD ('cuz I really need back-up help!). When I got home, I went to lay down for a little while, and rather than put the CD in, I thought I would just sing the songs to the Yipper sans accompaniment. I only knew about 3 songs anyways, so I just made up a tune for the rest. (not pretty, folks, not pretty).

I was glad when I came to the old favorite "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" because I actually know the tune! (and don't have to feel bad for torturing my unborn child with the reverberations of agony she was surely hearing!)

You know the one:

He's got the whole world in His hands;
(repeat twice)
He's got the whole world in His hands;

He's got you and me, brother, in His hands;
(repeat twice)
He's got the whole world in His hands;

He's got you and me, sister, in His hands;
(repeat twice)
He's got the whole world in His hands;

He's got the little, bitty baby in His hands;
(repeat twice)
He's got the whole world in His hands;
He's got the whole world in His hands.

The book has a little picture of a bearded, be-rothed cartoon Jesus holding a baby up in the air.
While I was singing the first and second verse, I imagined myself dancing around the living room holding my daughter and singing this song. Then I started singing the third verse (still dancing in my mind), and I was struck by the thought that, God willing, one day my daughter will also be my sister in Christ. How cool is that? So, I continued to mind-dance and sing with my "sister."

And then the last verse. That one really caught me.

(little background: Dave and I have pretty much picked out a name for the baby, but it will not, Mom, be revealed until SHE is revealed, if you know what I mean...)

So, I sang (and mind-danced) "He's got the little bitty baby in His hands, He's got little bitty (insert baby's name) in His hands; He's got..." and then I couldn't finish it because in my mind, I stopped dancing with my child, and I saw God dancing with her, holding my child in His hands, just God and the Yipper. And that brought happy Mama tears to my eyes, and a tearful Mama prayer to my mouth as I prayed that she will always know that He has her in His hands, and especially that she never doesn't know that. (I know that's a double-negative, but I don't care. You know what I mean.) And that she always always (and especially always) knows that God loves her immeasurably more than anything in this whole wide world that He holds in His hands.

Singing Sunday school songs, and conveying God's love are two totally different things, and I know Dave and I have our work cut out for us, but I rest in the fact that God has chosen imperfect us to lead this little girl to Him, and He'll help us along the way.

She's Still A Girl

...so says the doctor that saw her in all her ultrasound glory today.

He said that her size is good, and her brain is good, and all looks well.

Here's a 3D picture of her little teeny face for your viewing pleasure:

Who Could Resist?

Here's my AlleyPhat.

I love rubbing that belly.

(not much else fit for posting today)

In My Dreams

Hello, again, to my own personal Bloggysphere!

I dreamed about you all last night. Really, I did. We all know pregnant women have C-c-c-crazy dreams, and I've had some good doozies, but this is one I think I should share!

See, last night, in dreamland, all the people whose blogs I frequent got together and had dinner, and went bowling, and saw a movie together! Oh, and at dinner, we chatted real-time and shared some of the stuff that's not fit for the "publish" button.

It was nice.

I don't remember what movie we saw, or who the best bowler was (wasn't me, I can guarOntee that!), or even where we went to dinner. But I have to say, it was really nice to meet some of you for the first time, and see others after so very long of no-seeing.

I woke up happy, and content. And then I started to wonder why I'm dreaming of my bloggie friends! It must be that my subconscious is so starved for local friendships that I've now got to dream of my virtual friendships!

Good-bye! We should get together again sometime soon! :o)

I Won! I Won! I Won!

So I've broken out of my "lurker" status on quite a few blogs that I read regularly, and this time, I actually won something! Yay Me!!

I was reading dcrmom's site called Musings of a Housewife, and she had written a review of a book called A Life Less Cluttered, by Christine Rice. dcrmom admitted to having a few preconcieved notions about her clutter and how this book could help her...only to find that her expectations about the book were misplaced. She then admitted to having a few "organizational epiphanies" about her clutter and her 3-kids+husband home.

And I thought "Man, I could use an organizational epiphany, or two!" Dave and I are both pack rats, and, while I've been trying deeeesperately to rid our home of some of the stuff that owns us, there is still quite a bit more. (Maybe one day I'll tell you about how we still have the complete set of encyclopedias from 3 decades ago. Oh, and the swim-trunks from when he was 10. Yes, that's years old. But not today.) We are both guilty of leaving things where they land. And I am guilty of procrastinating putting stuff away into the right place...or, better yet, even finding the infamous "right place" for stuff. For instance, we've lived in this house for 3 months as of today, and there is quite a bit of stuff that hasn't found it's "forever home" yet. There's at least one box of Dave's clothes in our closet that has been in that box since September 12th. There's garden stuff in the office, a trash can on the dining room table, unsent Christmas presents on the couch...yada yada yada.

I know we're not as bad as we could be, but we could be so very much better. And I admit that I have deep-seated fears about how we'll manage once there's a baby in the house....'specially when the Yipper starts to crawl, and put stuff in her mouth, and open drawers, and stuff.

And, besides. I am old enough to want to start living a more minimalist life. I'm just plain tired of carting stuff around hither and yon. I love that the military moves us, but I also hate it because the moving company just comes in, and, like lemmings, puts everything they see into a box, puts tape on the top, writes something completely illegible and incorrect on the side, and moves onto the next pile of stuff. Like dry cleaning reciepts from 1992 (paid cash, btw). And a shoe. One. No match in sight. Still. When someone else pays to have your stuff moved, it's really easy to let "life" get in the way, and not purge and prepare for the move as much as you would if (a) you were packing the boxes yourself, or (b) if you were paying for it by yourself. Having someone else move you breeds laziness...and Dave and I are both pretty well-bred in that department. :o)

Which is all to say that I WANT LESS STUFF, and I want the stuff we have to have a place. Where it stays, or goes back to once we're done using it. (I know magic doesn't apply here.)

Which leads me back to dcrmom. She said "post a comment, and one random winner will get the book." Well, that random winner was MOI! :o) Now, maybe I'll have an organizational epiphany or two of my own, and I will be able to (a) put them into practice, and (b) convince Dave that my epiphanies also apply to him, so he must play along! :o)

...hmm...wonder which one will be the bigger challenge?

Contagious Hilarity

My friend Alison sent this link to me from YouTube. Holy cow, it's funny. If you need a good belly laugh, this is the one for you...



The best part is 1 min, 10 seconds in when he cracks himself up!

When do they get to be this silly, huh? I want a baby that giggles like this.

Wishin' and Hopin'

I wish...

...that Jell-O® brand gelatin had nutritional value.

...that TV shows (other than the Super Bowl) didn't have so darn many commercials.

...that I could sleep...
... ...through the night...
... ...on my stomach, like I used-to could. It was a sure-fire way to get me to meet Mr Sandman.

...that people didn't feel the need to use foul language in public. I just don't wanna hear it.

...that Sudoku puzzles didn't put me to sleep. (or at least put me to sleep all night long, please!)

...that I knew where to hang all the stuff that is sitting on my floor rather than hanging on my walls.

...that I actually knew some lullabies to sing rather than making up the words (and if that diamond ring don't shine, Mama's gonna buy you...a...block of wood...and if that block of wood don't...um...stop a door, Mama's gonna buy you...a...cute pair of shoes)

...that the dishes did themselves. Well, heck. I wish the whole house cleaned itself (if I'm a-wishin')!

...that I could make a decision. About anything. About lots of things. Just. A. Dang. Decision.

...that I didn't feel like a bumbling idiot all the time! (Thanks, "Mommy Brain"!)

There's more. I'm sure. I just can't think of it.