Poor Little Miss is fighting a cold. Last night, she was coughing a lot, so at 2am, I woke her up to give her a few puffs off of her inhaler. She fought the inhaler, acting like she just wanted to go back to sleep. But then, she lay back, and said, “Momma, will you paint my nails?”
Laughing at her, I said, “maybe tomorrow, sweetie.”
And in typical 3 year old style, she started whining, “noooooooooooooooo…… NOT TOMORROW!”
Leave it to my girly girl to want a manicure in the middle of the night.
Here is my first Belly shot at 21 weeks (5 months pregnant). There is a reason you haven’t seen any pictures of the “bump” for the past 4 months… I’m just not a cute pregnant woman. I expand in all directions, and don’t really get a bump. I get a spare tire and a bigger pot belly, and eventually (I think around 7 months), the two will join to form a rather gargantuan bump. If you can call it a bump. Perhaps we should just call it the bulge.
Anyway, I had my 5 month appointment today. The doctor asks me “how are you feeling?”, and all I could say was “huge”. He actually said my 8 pound weight gain was relatively low, which I guess is a good thing. In my grand delusions, I’d like to just gain 15 pounds total, but considering I’m entering the rapid growth phase now, I’m afraid that is completely out of the picture.
According to BabyCenter, my baby is the size of a carrot (What’s Up, Doc?!), and is 10.5 inches long. So yeah, I guess there is reason for my pooch. I’ve been feeling a lot of movement lately, which is reassuring, yet still freaky at the same time. It’s just strange to have a completely separate being living inside of you. I doubt I’ll ever get used to that.
I had the in-laws in town this weekend, and we took Little Miss out to fly a kite and on her first ferris wheel ride. She had a ball, and has been soaking up all of the attention. Pics posted on my Flickr site.
My sister in-law sent me the below article this morning, which had me rolling. All I have to say (besides I’m bummed my team is out of the WAC tournament now) is that the Utah bull is darn lucky Pistol Pete didn’t retaliate more. When I was at NMSU, Pistol Pete got in big trouble for punching the UTEP Miner in the nose. Ah, those were the days… Back when Pistol Pete actually had a pistol in the official logo (they have replaced it with a lasso to be more PC). At least the real live Pistol Pete still has his pistol!
Sat Mar 14, 2009 4:35 pm EDT
A man never ever messes with another man’s mustache. That’s the unwritten code among men. It exists mostly because mustaches are rather gross and you don’t want to be touching those things, but also because the mustache is sacred. A man’s lip fur is his identity; the very essence of his soul.
During a timeout with 7 seconds left and New Mexico State leading 70-69, Utah State’s mascot, “Big Blue” the bull, confronted New Mexico State’s “Pistol Pete” cowboy mascot and ripped off his fake mustache.
The cowboy then chased the bull to halfcourt, jumped on his back and tried unsuccessfully to pull him to the floor.
“Pistol Pete” then started to try to choke his rival before retreating to his end of the court.
Several newspaper photographers covering the game said they heard a man in a Nevada shirt offer the Utah State mascot $100 to go grab the mustache.
The man confirmed to The Associated Press that was true and that he paid the mascot the $100, but declined to provide his name. He said he did not expect New Mexico State’s “Pistol Pete” to respond the way he did.
You know, if there’s $100 involved, and the mustache is fake … I say the code doesn’t apply here. Take the benjamin and snatch the faux flavor-savor.
Also, Utah State and New Mexico State are both known as the Aggies, and Utah State’s mascot is a big, furry blue bull, and New Mexico State’s mascot is a dude in a fake mustache. Bulls can’t grow mustaches, so I don’t think you can blame him for being a little jealous. If one Aggie can paste a mustache onto his grill, why can’t the other? Let’s not discriminate against bulls here.
Utah State won the game and advanced to the conference final. The whereabouts of the mustache are not known.
Darn WordPress… I tried to change my header image, and now it won’t accept any photos. Will look into fixing that later.
And now, for the Little Miss quote of the day. I trimmed her fingernails this morning, and when I finished with the last nail, she exclaimed gleefully, “now I can pick my nose!”
Much to my chagrin, my child is in full-on princess mode. I wasn’t planning on this happening. I didn’t want this to happen, but it did. I found this page from PBS to be a good message for parents of such princesses:
10 Magic Messages Every Princess Needs to Hear
1. You are powerful.
2. You can say no when you need to.
3. You know the right thing to do, and you can do it.
4. You are beautiful.
5. You can be strong and need tenderness at the same time.
6. Your big strong emotions are safe with me.
7. I will honor your strength.
8. I will respect you and your wishes.
9. I will teach you how to be brave and kind.
10. I will love you no matter what.
Just back from my ritual lunch break at the gym. This is already getting depressing, people. Although I have been working out 6 days per week this entire pregnancy, my endurance just seems to be getting worse and worse with each workout. And the most depressing part is that the worst of it is yet to come. The idea of recovering again from a c-section and getting back into shape after that is daunting.
It seems hard for me to grasp that just six months ago, I ran my first 10K. Less than a week after finding out I was pregnant, I did a 5K run. I kept running until I was about 3 months along, when my ego just couldn’t handle how fast my running endurance was getting zapped. My normal slow/warm up pace on the treadmill had me struggling to keep up, and I finally decided it was time to get back into the Speedo and hit the pool.
Pool workouts are good. Just as last time, swimming is the one time when I actually feel in shape and feel like I can maintain my endurance. I did butterfly and IM sets up until week 39 my last pregnancy. But it hit me at the gym today that I really miss running, and I won’t be able to get back into running until at least September. And oh, God, will that be painful. I remember my first run after recovering from my c-section with Little Miss — I hopped on the treadmill thinking I’d go for 10 minutes before walking, and I could only make it to 3. It will be a long road to build myself up to hour long runs again.
I know I just have to keep my eye on the prize, but that is so hard right now. Perhaps if I had a cute little pregnancy bump it would be so depressing, but I swear that pregnancy just makes me look fatter and fatter.
That broaches a topic that has been riling me up lately. On the boards of BabyCenter.com, women talk about how they’re “working out”. They lift weights with THREE POUND DUMBELLS and walk a bit. It just cracks me up. Or they keep talking about how they SHOULD workout, but don’t have energy. We’re pregnant — not disabled. Although I’m complaining about feeling out of shape, I’m still lifting weights (a hell of a lot more than 3 lbs) and working up a good sweat in spin class and in the pool. I do challenging sets just as before. In fact, my doctor encouraged me to continue my routines. I have talked to three doctors about exercise in pregnancy, and all said to just go for it — don’t do anything that is uncomfortable, but even working out on your back is fine. From what I’ve read, it actually makes the baby stronger when you workout.
You should hear the comments I get when I’m at the gym, or even when I was snow shoeing last weekend (I was wearing my “I’m not fat, I’m pregnant shirt”). People are so shocked that I’m still being active, and act like it’s a huge accomplishment. When to me, it is my sanity saver, my personal time, and honestly, I can’t imagine how hard getting back into shape would be if I took 9 months off before having the baby.
Hello, and happy Monday. I started off this morning (which was hard enough being the first Monday on the new time) by weighing, and man, was that depressing. I’m one week shy of 5 months pregnant, and am now up 7 pounds. Ick. I was really sad about it until I checked it with the records from my last pregnancy, and at the same point for that one, I was up 11 pounds (OK, weighed with clothes in the doctor office), so I guess I’m on track. But still… For someone who has watched her weight since she was 11, this part of pregnancy is a hard pill to swallow.
I went snow shoeing this past weekend with a pregnant friend, her hubby and 2 Husky dogs. It was a fun time, and I really enjoyed getting out in the mountains after the recent snowfall (5 feet up there in a week). Plus, it’s nice to hang out with a pregnant friend, as we don’t make each other feel out of shape.
After snow shoeing, I retrieved Little Miss from her aunt’s house (thank you, Aunt A for watching her!), and took her home for a nap. I slept myself, and woke up to find Little Miss playing in her room. All seemed well until I found the cap to a bottle of baby aspirin I had left out on the kitchen counter, as I gave our arthritic dog a dose earlier in the day. I asked her, “where is the bottle to this?”
Her reply was, “in my room. I ate all your candy.”
I can’t tell you what explicatives ran through my head. I found the bottle, which was completely empty, but luckily it had only been about 1/4 full. So, after a call to poison control, where I was assured she’d likely be OK, but to take her to the ER if her stomach starts hurting, we were in the clear. At least I didn’t breathe easy until several hours later. Gah! So much for childproof caps, and I now know that my super tall daughter can reach things on the kitchen counter that I didn’t realize she could reach.
Last night, we went to a friends house to pick up her hand me down baby boy clothes. We were both shocked when she opened up a room with 20 bags of clothes. JB said, “this is for one kid?!”
So now, I have a significant project on my hand to get rid of the girl clothes and sort through what boy clothes I want to keep. Don’t worry, I think I have a home for the girl clothes. But part of me is nervous to part with them, as what if the ultrasound was wrong?!
Well, those are all of my thoughts for this Monday morning. Have I mentioned how much it SUCKS to be sitting out the rest of ski season when we keep getting storm upon storm leaving behind epic conditions?! I hope this kid appreciates it!
At my first official OB appointment, the nurse handed me a flyer with general information you should know about pregnancy, like what over the counter drugs you can take, and when you should report symptoms to the doctor. I posted it on my fridge, as it has some handy information. But what stands out every time I go to open the fridge is the multiple mentions in ALL CAPS of DO NOT DOUCHE WHILE YOU ARE PREGNANT. They then proceed to say that you’ll have more discharge (eew) and will smell different, and by no means does this mean you should DOUCHE. Ah. Appetizing. I could remove it, but I’m now starting to find it entertaining having the word DOUCHE posted on the fridge in all caps.
There are also multiple mentions of “due to the intimate nature of these appointments, please be sure to take a shower before each appointment.” And at that, I cringe at what nastiness the poor doctors endured before they were brought to putting that on the general informational hand out. My deepest sympathies go out to them on that one.
And that is the end of my random thought of the day.
Now you know the rest of the story. Good day. (Is it just me, or does anyone else have Paul Harvey quotes running through their heads this week?!)
This post is dedicated to my sister-in-law, who emailed me pleading me to update, as the latte art embryo was getting old!
So… Something I have been wanting to blog about is the community boards at one of my favorite pregnancy sites. I won’t say which site it is in this entry, as I don’t want to get chased by the online lynch squad. Anyway, most of the chatter on those boards is very entertaining, but some stand out to me as downright scary examples of the people that are out there procreating.
I just made this huge ass fuss about driveing at 11:15 p.m. to go to mcdonalds to get the one thing i have been craveing all day which was the fish filet sandwich. Well, i got the 2 for $3.99 deal and also got a large fry.
It takes me 5 minutes to get home and by the time i got here my fries were ice freaking cold and the fish was stale. Im mad. I think next time i will get burger kings fish filet sandwich! either that or im going to tell mcdonalds to drop my food fresh!
Perhaps I am a grammar freak, but holy cow, the spelling, punctuation and content just blow me away. Yikes!
OK, perhaps this one isn’t so bad. But the talk about “leaking bobbies” really had me rolling. She did post again saying she caught the typo. The title of that post was in all caps: “LEAKING BOBBIES”. Ha!
Exhibit C: Rant about the Baby Daddy
1) He wants me to leave my son with him while I am at work so that he won’t have to pay child support and can watch *name removed* during the day. He works nights at a bar. *name removed* is currently going to go to my mom’s house while I work during the day and be with me at night.
2) He refuses to get a second job because he wants to make sure he has to give me as little money as possible to help raise this child.
3) He is the most worthless piece of shit in the freakin universe. I wish he would just go away forever. Leave us alone. I hate him!
4) He is a former drug addict, current alcoholic, stupid, mean, hateful asshole. He used to deal drugs. He does tattoos out of his home with no license. I have got to figure out a way to get him caught.
5) His entire family is alcoholics. His dad left when he was a kid and he has alot of issues because of that.
6) THE VERY THOUGHT OF HIM MAKES ME WANT TO VOMIT!!!! I hate him!
Ah, that is a golden one. It’s an example of when I see some really young (I’m guessing 18-19 here) single girl typing, I’m SO glad I waited until I was married and well established in my career before reproducing. There are so many rants about the Baby Daddy… It is just sad to me. But part of me reads that and thinks you really thought he was good boyfriend material?!
So anyway, I’ll post more gems as I come across them. And in honor of the late, great Paul Harvey, I say “Good Day!”