25 weeks, 2 days

Yes. I ate a person.

"Sleeping" didn't happen too much last night. I went from mildly-stuffed-up to cannot-breathe-through-nose-while-horizontal and my back has been in bad shape. It's just so hard to get comfortable; I'm starting to understand why preggos end up sleeping upright in chairs. Sad puppy dog face.

So I'm kickin it at home in my pjs. Sad to be missing the Halloween costumes at work, but hoping I can fool my bod into some zzzz's when it least expects it.

Onward ho!

THINGS YOU MIGHT WANT TO WARN A PREGNANT LADY ABOUT

So I walk in the door from work. I'm hungry. I have a headache. I need to pee. The typical trinity.

Put on the kettle. Put on my sweatpants. Ponder snack ideas. Head to bathroom.

I do my thing. Flush. Start to wash hands. Happen to glance over at toilet and



?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!

And then I died.

Oh wait, I'm still here!

Actually, I grabbed my nether regions and there wasn't a baby coming out. Which was very good.

But still. !?1?!?!?!!?1?1/1!/!/

And then I remembered they were planning some sort of plumbing check today in our building. So I ran to Clay's bathroom. Bowl was clear and clean. But then I flushed and

BLOODY BLOOD BLOOD HALLOWEEN MASSACRE 2009.

Do you THINK MAYBE they could have left us a friendly note under the door? Like

Hey!

All will look normal with your toilet until you flush for the first time. And then it'll look like you peed out your insides!

Love,

The Plumbers

Excuse me now, while I try and fish my heart out of my mouth.

Things I'm swooning over

These earrings!

Through a Twitters mention, I found this local jewelry maker. And then, after some website perusal, these kick ass (felt!) earrings. I’m not much for bedazzling my person, but something about these said YES to me.

Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me get one into my right earring hole. Perhaps because I got my ears pierced at 21, forget I even have them, and last wore earrings on my wedding day in 2008? But I will triumph, people.

THIS BOOK.

Jeebus gawd this book is incredible. (I was about to link to a 1981 New York Times article talking about just how awesome, but let’s be honest; no one would dig through the article to find the mention, right?)

I bought it last weekend at the Mystery Bookstore in Noe Valley, a treasure trove of all things good and pure and creepy. It came untouched, covered in a plastic sleeve, and the cover – the cover! I want to read this book in one sitting it’s so delicious, but I also want to slow way down so it’s never over.

And now! Red pen time.

Friday the 13th

Will be my last day of work. That's 13 more actual work days. Zoom time flies.

I feel good about leaving third trimester to baby growing, holiday enjoying, and home readying.

But that doesn't mean I won't miss this job. Or the (kick ass) people that go along with it. I haven't typed much about the past 6 months at the office - because talking about work on the Internets can be a whole mess of trubs - but I've never had a more positive work experience. Super glad to have been there and definitely plan on staying in touch with my new franz.

And what comes after third trimester and baby landing? I'm staying home (such a weird way we all phrase it, no? I do plan on leaving my house) and doing the Mom Thing full time. Mostly for the health insurance and 401k, of course.

So ooo eeeee baby - BJA's about to be a breastfeeding, playdough cooking, Raffi singing full time mama.

And I can't wait.

I have a testimony

Of Ira Glass.

Without whose podcast, charming cadence, and quiet perfection I simply could not live. (Nor continue to earn a paycheck.)

You make work worth working, Mr. Glass. Keep on keeping on.

When you don't have cable

And you've got friends that are pulled together enough to organize real outings, you can get yer man - on football Sunday - to go along on a real field trip.

Here are some pics from our Half Moon Bay brunch-by-the-sea/pumpkin patch excursion. I feel like I really checked the box on FALL today. (Also on sun-my-face-needs-in-one-year.) And if you're wondering, the moccasins held up gah-reat.

Casey (Master Supreme Outing Organizer and Clay's frosh year roommate at Harvard) and me during brunch on the water. We took some without the glasses, but we look cuter here. Plus, my hair looks shiny.

At the pumpkin place, we all raced through a corn maze. For reasons unknown, I felt the best strategy to win was tip toes.

It did help bring us in second.

Group glamour shot, surrounding our trusty rusty tractor.

How lucky are my girl and I, surrounded by a gaggle of such hotties? I'm teaching her young.

Bumpdate: 24 weeks, 2 days

Horizontal stripes, baby!

(Thanks, Christie and you're welcome, Eric for taking this shirt out of your house.)

According to Billy the Doorman, told to Clay the Spouse, it "looks like she's gained 7 pounds since Saturday!" WHAT OF IT, BILLY.

But here's the thing. Extra l-b's or not, I'm feeling good lately. I can eat foods without dying, my roly polyness makes me giggle, and my mood is, at times, bordering on euphoric mania. Oh, hormones. Whattapal!

Oh AND. AND! Guess what came in the mail yesterday? (Last part in a sing-songy voice, please.) These puppies!

Yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum. YUM.

I didn't work today

Last night, a little voice told me to stay home today. Maybe it was the baby. Maybe it was a bird or the wind or a superhero with a crystal ball who saw I'd get sprinkled with H1N1 today. But who'm I to say no to mysterious voices? They always tell the truth about how good pumpkin butter toast will taste in the mornings. And afternoons.

So I took it easy, but I also got some things done: a beef stew in the crockpot, a load of laundry, knocked out a couple SVUs. (Yes, that last one counts.)

I piddled too much on the Internets, though, and started getting worked up about things I have no control over (um, other people). So I forced myself down the elevator and into the park before my brain exploded.

I brought an orange and a magazine and stared at the palm trees. And decided, while licking sticky fingers, to take a break from some of my usual Internets haunts. No one's forcing me to read anything I don't want to - it's up to me to surround myself with smart and uplifting messages. You know, like this.

So that happened.

And now? Now I remove the robot arm and peel some apples for the crisp I'm baking up. You wish you were a nose in my apartment right now.

Until the real one comes

This is our placeholder baby. His name is Grobot.

He watches the balcony all day, alerting the doorman to any intruders.

We love him and his green grass hair and his porcelain heart.

Muah, Grobaby. Muah.

Footbell

Baby girl likes to kick me all the time, but does NOT like to be caught doing it. So while Clay has felt her move several times, it's not consistent and it's never the big ones that make me gasp. He doesn't really seem to mind, but I get obsessed.

"Put your hand here now!"

"But I'm looking at cars?"

So last night, after my cookie and tea (round 3), when she was feeling especially feisty, I ran over to his couch and placed his hand on my tum. But then, of course, nothing. Stopped dead in her tiny tracks. Radio womb silence.

So I scooted to the end of the couch and moped for a second, before I felt his feet on my bare bell. She squirmed a few times under his tread, though never gave a good enough wallop for him to feel. But while daddy and rogirl didn't meet up last night, it still made mama happy.

And look! I still have an innie!

If you want to know what makes me laugh

Maybe harder than anything else, watch



I sit on my couch after work and giggle until I cry. Just me and my belly and my maple cream cookies. If you're a Netflix Instanter like me, there are now a bunch of episodes ready to press play on whenever you're ready to get awesome.

Windshield snap

A purty little rainbow just for me on the drive home.

I was singing this song and loving life.

Bounty

Since we moved into our pad, I've shopped almost exclusively at Whole Foods. It's right down the street, it's got healthy stuff for the bean inside me, and it smells nice. They've got the bestest produce around for all those fruit cravings and a cheese section to kill for and all sorts of lovely loveliness. Which is all well and good. But meh. I'm in a grocery rut.

Yesterday I started making a list for my Sunday grocery run. I paged through some cookbooks and tried to get inspired, but yawn yawn stretch yawn dull.

But then!

The Trader Joe's flyer arrived (direct mail! it works!), I remembered I forgot to remember it was close by, and I actually woke up this morning looking forward to grocery shopping.

?!?!?!??!?!

I sort of made a list, kissed the boo bye, and started throwing cutely packaged cardboard boxes and plastic tubs of

spiced apple bread mix

beer bread mix

pumpkin butter

maple cream cookies

naan

honey nut joe's

sourdough bread

and fruit leather bars and choco-swirled lemon cookies and indian goodies and potato gnocchi and aweireporeoueoid;ldkf

into my cart.

I was running through the aisles like they were meadows full of flowers and open bottles of Pine Sol.

I suppose you could say it's sad that a happy trip to the grocery store makes me feel like a successful human, filled with light and radiance and hope for planet earth, but nom nom nom nom nom I'm too busy eating my weight in cookies to care.

Bumpdate: 23 weeks, 2 days

It's getting hard to tie my shoes, guys. Which is why I made the executive decision to do away with ties and ordered moccasins yesterday. Please don't shame me if by the end, I'm grocery shopping barefoot.

Don't mind me

I'm just over here at my desk, listening to this on repeat, licking up my tears:

In addition to apples

So, people...there's been a new development in the cravings conversation.

It started happening a few days ago, crept up on me slowly, so that I wasn't really sure it was technically a craving until last night. Last night, when it became super overwhelming.

Last night, when all I wanted to do was swim in a pool of Pine Sol.

Um.

You may or may not have heard of pica, the craving for non-food items? Like dirt and oil and toilet paper and, yes, Pine Sol. It's most common in children, but can happen during pregnancy, too. There's no explanation for why we preggos can get it, though there's some reason to believe it could relate to iron deficiency. Which I've never had, by the way, but...maybe? I sure eat a lot of cheeseburgers.

It's semi-impossible to understand until it's suddenly upon you; I know I didn't quite buy it until it started happening to me. It pretty much began out of the blue - I haven't recently smelled Pine Sol or cleaned with it or even seen it on a shelf. I just know that I NEED IT.

And so now, here I sit, munching on my PB&J English muffin, desperately wishing I could chase it with a shot of piney fresh cleaner.

PREGNANCY = INSANE.

Fruity

When people ask me what I’ve been craving during these past 5.5 months, I want to answer “dirt with frosting” or “sardines and jello”, but turns out I’m the least interesting preggo eater ever.

All I want is fruit.

Fruit, FrUiT, fRuIt, FRUIT.

This is particularly strange because in my pre growing-a-baby days, I actively didn’t like fruit. It tasted eh to me, it made my tummy hurt a little, I’d rather eat a brownie. Growing up, I dreaded playing at those kids’ houses where, after a long day at school, the mom handed you a piece of fruit and told you to go play. (I actually still think that’s weird.)

But now. Now! I can’t think of anything tastier.

It was watermelon, plums, peaches, and grapes this summer.

Now it’s apples (Honeycrisp!), apples (Fuji!), apples (Gala!), and some (Valencia!) oranges on the side.

Last night, in the middle of some content-viewing (what up, Mr. Holland’s Opus?) I scurried to the kitchen for some refreshments.

“Want an apple?” I asked Clay.

He paused.

“Sure.”

Now I paused.

“Do you REALLY want an apple?”

“Um...no? It would taste good, but I don’t really care either way.”

I pause again, hand quivering over the refrigerator’s fruit drawer.

“Are you deciding if I deserve an apple?” Clay asks.

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

In the end, he got one.

Because I'm the most giving person I know.

Bumpdate: 22 weeks, 2 days

Please ignore my gaping mouth - I've got a cold and can't breathe otherwise. Of course, I'm always a little shocked at my appearance, too. Let's just say shaving is getting...athletic.

This isn't an early bumpdate

Just a documentation of the bizarre things I put together before I run out the door to copyedit video game manuals with my robot arm.

Those Uggs are bona fide super originals from the first wave of insanity in 2003. I wore them every single day of senior year at BU and yeah, you can tell. I believe I see some pot brownie batter splashed on the back. Kidding. Um.

The dress was 9.99 at Marshalls two years ago for a Goodby trip to Napa. Stretchy!

Thanks to Manj for the leggings, a godsend from Gap maternity.

The sweater, bulging over my ample bosom, is a regular non-maternity Gap cardy. Its days are numbered.

Robot arm is a Walgreens original! Only 19.99 at your local retailer!

A date with a laydee

So I got to visit with our little buddy this morning. (Who, incidentally, is looking less and less like a robot. Sorry, friends.)

Clay's in NYC for work stuff, so he missed the rendezvous - but we've got three or four more ultrasounds, so it wasn't too sad. Although I'm sure he missed making his favorite "When can we take a paternity test?" joke. Badum ching.

The great news is the placenta issue seems to have resolved. Woot! It definitely moved up and away from the naughty place and I'm free to get sexy, fly, and train for that marathon like I was planning. Or just keep watching SVU reruns in sweats with a milkshake. Whatever.

My cervix, the real reason I keep getting all these ultrasounds, is measuring just fine, too. It's good news that it's looking good, but the real test will be when the bug gets chubbier and starts pressing down. Again - not too worried, but very happy I'm getting the extra attention.

But onto the fun stuff!

She was being super shy and stubborn today, not wanting to show us her face one bit. Her position for most of the visit was:

Head to her knees and turned away, arms in front of face, legs crossed. Sort of like she was tucking for a dive. Or stretching after barre. Or saying leave me alone, buttheads. Adorable, yes. (DON'T YOU WANT TO EAT THOSE LEGS FOR LUNCH?!) But I wanted to see her lil facey! After lots of flopping and walking around she finally cooperated a tiny bit toward the end.

But listen. While I find her little face cute as a button, she still kind of looks like a gremlin. And dude, she's a lady. So I won't post gremlin pics. She'll thank me later.

A very unbirthday

Today, my cousin and aunt got on a jet plane and zipped home to Maine.

We had such a fun (and packed) long weekend and I was sad to wave goodbye.

There were long walks and yummy lunches and knitting lessons and baby girl snuggy hand-me-downs and tea parties and autumn sunburns.

For the win!

I'm a terrible picture taker, in that I just don't remember to do it, but they took lots of pics of our adventures that I'll post when I get my hands on 'em.

The only one I walked away with is below, our tea party treat tray. If you want to make the ladies in my family happy, serve us tea and treats.

Soon, it was all gone.

Love you, ladies!

Bumpdate 21 weeks, 2 days

My Buddha belly and Buddha.


-- Posted from my iPhone