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

I want to set up some kind of challenge

For Clay and me. To accrue as little and spend as little on baby stuff as possible.

Because have you ever seen a baby? They are small. Very small.

They need things - a place to sleep, a place to be changed, a place to hang - but they don't need 12 roomfuls of it.

Because have you ever seen babies in other countries? They be rolling simple, man.

As I've mentioned, my cousin and aunt are in town (yay!), and we've been working on a list of the must-haves for baby's first months. Christie had her third baby last year and is keeping it even more simple than with the first two - using a sling to carry the little lady around, cloth diapers, hasn't even taken the swing out of the box. I love talking with my peeps - they think like I do.

And because so many of those must-haves can be bought secondhand (strollers, clothes, etc) it just isn't my priority to buy spanking new things. Even if they're really purty.

(For those wrinkling their noses right now, let's keep in mind my Mom used to pack my lunches with juice held in old pickle jars. I'm pretty comfy with pre-used items, mmkah?)

So. For the mamas or papas or nannies or any babies that can type (Lucy, I'm looking at you), what were/are your must-haves? If you're preggo, what do you plan on getting? If you're reading this on your Blackberry, sipping a martini and just starting a long night out, well, you probably want to sock me in the eye. Lo siento!

The Yankees are coming the yankees are coming!

In the spirit of their arrival, and perhaps cruelly ignoring last week's nasty news, I'm posting this video because:

1) I can't tell you the number of times I played it on our record player during Massachusetts winters - age 8, 9, 10, 11...infinity.
2) LOOK AT THAT HAT.
3) This arrangement is cooler than the studio version.
4) I live here now and it still kind of thrills me.
5) THE HAT.

This is a picture

To show you what I look like with clothes *over* the belly.

1) Isn't the bump so strange and high?

2) Holy shit, I have a BOOTY.

3) I finally bought cute pants that don't fall off!

4) Look! I folded laundry!

Mover and shaker

The past few days, our little lady is kick kick punch kick punch elbow flip! What before was the occasional and thrilling poke, is now a constant do-see-do, a little dancing sidekick while I grocery shop, watch Netflix, eat trailmix, cook chicken, eat trailmix.

Every time she starts up, I make Clay run over and put his hand on my belly. But dude, she can seriously tell she's being watched (felt?) and clams right up. Kind of like her mama.

She relaxed a little tonight, though, and let her dada feel a couple small pokes after he rushed over at my yell. It's lovely to finally share her with Clay; I've felt a little bit shellfish lately, feeling all the crazies she does, all by my lonesome.

In other news, I'm back obsessed with my slow cooker, a wedding prez from Clay's mom. (Thanks, Cindy!) Once fall arrived, I started thinking about it all the time (admit I'm the most interesting person you know) and even bought a new book o' recipes for it.

Tonight, I whipped up some yummy chicken, later in the week I've got pork chops and sweet potatoes planned. But I'm really excited (again, my coolness is otherworldly) to make Indian Pudding, a New England favorite. Wanna come over and eat some wif me? Just as long as you do the dishes.

Bumpdate: 20 weeks 2 days

Work bathroom! Huge belly! All very sexy!


-- Posted from my iPhone

Sure, I'm a nut

But I've also got a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles thermos.


So life ain't all bad.

A little long, a lot personal

I was just lying in bed, beating myself up for having a super irrational preggo moment, unable to fall asleep. I realized I was writing out my feelings inside my head, as a way to explain them to...myself I guess. So why not just type it out here and hopefully konk out after?

Lots of people make jokes about being "OCD" when they like a clean car or have to be on time somewhere. But actual obsessive compulsive behaviors... suck. (I was going to write "are no laughing matter" but, um, that's creepy.)

When I was little, I used to get obsessed with these thoughts or ideas that wouldn't leave my mind no matter how hard I tried. They were stuck there and I would fixate on them, no matter how insane, until I thought I couldn't stand it anymore. Eventually they'd disappear, but not before stealing hours of sleep and happy thoughts.

The first one I can remember, I was about five. This thought just...came to me that sitting in my attic, just waiting for someone to open the door, was this sinister Sumo wrestler guy. What?! I know. That's it. He just sat there. But I could think of nothing else and I wanted it/him GONE.

These obsessive thoughts were soon joined by certain compulsions, things I had to do. Count to a certain number before leaving my room, brush my teeth a certain way, make a certain facial expression at a certain time. I had to do these things or...I have no idea. Because I never let there be an or.

As I got older and learned some management techniques, a lot of my obsessions and compulsions waned. I still had the desire RIGHTTHERE all the time, but I knew how to fight it and keep going.

Pregnancy has pretty much thrown all that work out the window.

My mind is now pretty much ruled by intrusive thoughts, completely involuntarily, about...22 hours a day? I'm shaving a couple hours off for when I'm really enjoying some pie or watching Columbo or cuddling my cram or peeing. You probably want me to take off some hours for sleeping, but that's when I have all my nightmares and so nope! Can't do that.

Most of my worries, not surprisingly, are about the baby, or me, or Clay, or my family. Is the baby choking on her umbilical cord right now? Will Clay get cancer in the next 3 hours? Did my mom just go on a date with a serial killer? Fun stuff like that.

But there's a slight finesse I like to give my worries. It's this idea of fixating on how everything's okay NOW, but in two or five or ten or one hundred minutes...everything will CHANGE. For the absolute WORST. I'll focus on a song on my iPod and think, "I'll so remember this tune because in a minute I'm going to be hit by a car" or look around me and think, "This building is so nice - I wonder what it'll look like when the earthquake strikes after lunch." This goes on all day.

I went through this particular obsession about 5 or 6 years ago. I think it's because that things-are-good-now-they're-not sort of came true, on two separate occasions. Two separate times I took the time to realize how good and solid and healthy things were in my family. Then two separate times, within 24 hours, they suddenly...weren't. For a good year there, I was convinced every single phone call or email would bring more bad news. Pretty relaxing.

So yeah. Which leads me to tonight. After a whole day of obsessing and fretting and wringing my hands, my whole self was just worn out. I should have just gone to bed and hidden under my pillows. But instead, I latched onto this minute little comment and just blew it up. And I just get so mad at myself when I can't contain it anymore, when it leaks out into other things and other people. Because! Because then I've created a whole new thing, a whole new incident to obsess over tomorrow.

I don't have a pretty ending for this, and bless any of you who are still reading; I just had to get it out. But I do feel a little better and a little bit sleepier. Which is progress. Night, friends.

Knit purl knit purl knit purlae ajeworiueproieueire

Yes!

NO!

Yesterday I was running a mild fever and just felt...off. I went home early from work and took it easy, taking my temperature roughly every 6 minutes and popping Tylenol on schedule. Every single person in the entire world is sick right now and I really don't want to follow suit. Whether it's a cold or the piggy flu, it's just no good getting sick while asthmatic and preggo.

I woke up this a.m. after sleeping hard and decided to stay home for the day. Once afternoon hit, my fever was gone, but I just wanted to really rest up and keep tabs on any changes. I think I'm better.

To pass the day, I picked up my knitting again. I bought some delicious yarn this weekend and decided on a simple pattern for a baby blanket for my baby girl. I wanted a project that would take a bit, but wouldn't stress me out too much. So I started! And it went so well for quite some time.

Until the dreaded dropped stitch. If you're a knitter or have attempted The Knitting, you know how horrifical these can be if caught too late. I think (?!) I can fix the situation, but it will take every ounce of my spatially-challenged gray matter to figure it out.

I pulled out half my hair and brewed a cup of tea with my ear-steam before realizing I needed to put it down, step away, and try again later.

*watches Columbo*

*eats choco-covered nuts from Billy the Doorman*

*pees 12 times*

*drinks cran-grape out of the jug*

....is it later yet?

Frasier Crane had one

And now, so do I.

Clay and I (mostly Clay) have been researching cars for the past few months, ever since we found out a new buddy was joining the family. Our current mobile is a (lovely, zippy) two-door Volkswagen GTI. Ain't gonna cut it with mama's back, yo.

So! The hunt began.

We were mostly deciding between wagons and SUVs, wagons and SUVs. We've got experience with both and like them both - it was just going to come down to comfort, style, price, etc. At times I pushed for the Subaru (a major favorite with my New England fam), but ya know - I drove A LOT of those in my time and I figured it was time for something new.

Because we were most likely trading for something a little parent-y, we wanted to have it semi-fun for Clay to drive. It's just not safe to jump from zippy car straight to minivan.

Anywho.

Clay started reading about the BMW 540i wagon and I fell in love with how it looked. Then we decided we actually preferred the older model to the newer one, which narrowed the search. Then (this is a really fun story, right?) he found a 2001 model that was all purty and affordable and so we drove (an hour zzzzz) and fell in love with the real deal. And so it was done.

We still keep wondering if we're the only people who've actually downgraded their vehicle...

(We currently have both cars, but hope to sell the VW stat. Ben? Interested?)

But I heart my "new" ride to the max.

It's roomy, safe, stylish, lightly worn-in (I say "I like old things" about 10 times a day so this is a plus in our household), comfy, and um - close your ears, Moms - fast. Not that we'll utilize this feature, of course. It's just...there.

Plus, I dunno. I've always drooled over Beemers. Maybe because my TV idol Frasier had one. Maybe because Lelaina from Reality Bites had one. Maybe just because they're bad ass.

Let the judgments commence!

My new steering wheel