35 weeks!

Only five weeks left people. FIVE. My mind just exploded a little. Literally. Like, you know how when you start discussing the universe with people (just pretend this happens to you all the time) and you talk about space, and stars, and other solar systems, and infinity and all that and suddenly your mind sort of short circuits and stops working because even though you understand the concept of infinity, your brain cannot really understand it. Like, it gets it, but it doesn't get it. Because sure, ok, space goes on forever, but then what's outside of it - nothing - but not nothing, it's space, just continuous space, there's no yard on the other side of the space fence because it just never ends! Aslkfdjoaierlasjdfkasjdflks.

And that's the point my eyes glaze over and I start to drool, because I get it. But I will not ever get it.

Aaaaaaanyway, that's what imagining having this baby is like. I try to picture it. I try to picture what the birth will be like, and how I'll feel afterwards and my brain will not let me. Maybe it's nature's way of saving you the agony and the joy of what's to come, but all it's doing now is sort of confusing me and making me feel thirsty.

On a positive note, I now wear the same size bra as my sister! Whoooooo! This may not seem exciting to those of you who went through puberty, but I wasn't blessed with a real cup size so right now I'm thrilled. I mean sure, I weigh thirty pounds more than she does, and I have a belly that shifts on it's own at inappropriate times like when I'm hugging someone so that all they feel is an elbow in their chest, but still! Same bra size! And mine can feed people! Jealous Becky?

By the way: feeding people. With your body. It all seems normal and regular until you realize you're about to do it and suddenly it's like someone telling you you can shoot fireworks with your belly button, and can sneeze out the site plans for a skyscraper. Before I was pregnant I was all, "I know how it all works and it's no big deal. It's natural. It's beautiful. Get over it." And now I'm like, "OH HOLY CRAP THIS IS ACTUALLY HOW IT WORKS?!?!"

Needless to say, my hormones are a little rampant right now and my brain is suffering a lot of confusion. I just picked up a banana and stared at it for a good minute before I remembered what this thing I was holding was, and how I could open it.

See, pregnancy makes everything seem like an exciting new adventure. Even eating.

Alphabet!

You all can thank (or yell at) my sister for my prolonged absence. Remember when she suggested I take my fun little art project and turn it into an endless-hand-hurty-what-the-f-am-I-going-to-use-for-X-and-how-much-do-I-want-to-mess-up-my-child's-learning-with-stuff-like-using-a-panda-bear-for-the-letter-B task?

Well, since I have OCD for things that do not have to do with actual getting paid-to-work work, I could not stop. And now I have the whole alphabet done!

YAY!

When I showed the final product to my sister she said, "All your animals look a little suspicous like they just pooped in the corner and are trying to blame the dog".

Which is my favorite thing about them. They all seem a little worried. Like they're seconds from running off the alphabet list to go hide under my bed.

It totally wasn't on purpose, but I like how the penguin and the owl ended up sort of looking at each other. They're bff.

Oh, and X is xenopus. That's a type of frog apparently. It was either that or Xena Warrior Princess, but I thought she might mess up the theme.

Baby Gifts

In preparation for the baby, James (the cat) has started bringing in presents. Live presents. Live presents he lets run free in the middle of the living room while we're trying to watch tv. It's almost as if he's like, "Hey guys. I was going to kill this teeny tiny mouse, but then I though maybe you wanted to kill it? I mean, it's just my way of saying thanks for rescuing me and giving me a home. Here. Please. He's under the couch. Just tear in after him. I love you."

And then he drinks my water.

I cannot tell you how many times a day I have to get a new water glass. He has his own water bowl but refuses to drink out of anything that's not the toilet, or my water glass. He has standards people.

So, for the past two nights, we've had to save a mouse's life. This takes about an hour, a complicated structure of a makeshift wall of dvds, a bucket, and lots of screaming (from me).

They both survived, thank goodness, but if James keeps this up we're going to have to saran wrap our entire house every night like Dexter, so we can wrap it up in the morning and get rid of the crime scene, while simultaneously protecting the baby from Mouse AIDS.

I love gifts as much as the next person, but these might be a tad overboard James. Just a tad.

33 Weeks!

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but I was on vacation. In California. Here, to be exact:

Since it was my last vacation before my world turns into a big poop-milk fest, I tried extra hard to be super relaxed and actually succeeded. Typically I have at least one meltdown while we're there due to a combo of 30 of my family members all within a whisper's distance of one another, an excess of sugar intake, no real sleep because of the EXTREMELY LOUD golf carts that for some reason are shuttling around at all hours of the night, and the dread that sinks in almost the minute you step onto the island because you know, you just know deep down in your soul, that you're going to have to leave in 7 days - and that thought is unbearable. But I did not have any sort of meltdown whatsoever. I was totally calm, and happy, and sleepy the whole time.

Pregnancy is mellowing me out yo.

Also it's making me do things I would normally never do - like post a picture of myself in a bikini. There's no way I'd do that not pregnant, but pregnant? SURE! Next I'll post a picture of myself directly after waking up, drool and all.

Anyway, I'm 33 weeks pregnant now!

And the baby is the size of a pineapple. To which my sister said, "With or without the top?" I'm hoping for my birth canal's sake it's without.

On top of tropical fruit taking over my body, and trying to kick it's way out of my body (literally that's what it feels like. Like this pineapple baby is trying to kick down the door of my side) I'm also so hungry I could eat a house. Like, I just realized that's not a saying, it's fo reals. A house made of food. The other day we went to dinner at my boyfriend's parent's house and about ten minutes after eating we were driving home when suddenly I was so hungry again I almost puked all over the place. I had to make him stop at the store so I could get something to eat so I didn't die on the spot.

My brain can't comprehend that I need to eat even though I just ate so I forget to carry an extra meal with me everywhere I go because it thinks, "I don't need this sandwich. She just ate a burger and fries two seconds ago." Oh, but that's where you're wrong brain! You may not think I need more food, but this baby does. And she needs it SEVEN MINUTES AGO.

So, I'm ignoring my brain and listening to my body. And my body wants to eat about eight hard boiled eggs right now, so I guess that's what I'm going to do. Just a nice mid-morning snack. Before my second breakfast.

C-Section Conversation

A: Lovesies?

J: Yes?

(Yes we call each other Loves, Lovesies, Lovers, and occasionally HoneyLoves - anything that ends in a plural for some reason. As if we were addressing a room full of our lovers.)

A: If for some reason I have to have a C-section you're not allowed to look.

J: Oh God no. **face starts to turn yellow**

A: Because I watched one yesterday.

J: Please stop. I don't even want to hear another word.

A: I'm not going to describe it to yo-

J: -Stop. I can't listen.

A: I'm not saying anyth-

J: -No. I don't even want to think about it.

A: But I-

J: -I don't feel good.

A: Hone-

J: -Not another word.

***long pause while I watch the color drain, and then slowly come back to his face and appendages***

A: **trepidly** Honeys?

J: Yes?

A: Will you look when-

J: -No.

A: Let me finish. Will you look for the normal vaginal delivery?

J: Oh I'll look down there until the end of the world.

A: . . .

J: For the child.

A: Obviously.

We took a tour of the hospital yesterday to see what our rooms are gonna look like, and I was pretty impressed. It was like a hotel room, but with spotlights on the ceiling and an IV pump. As a matter of fact, I may have stayed at one like that in Vegas.

(kidding)

There were no pregnant ladies anywhere though which was a little weird, but totally confirmed my ill-advised line of totally-made-up thinking that people only go into labor at night. I know that's (probably) not true, and that women can go into labor at 10am if they happen to, but in my head labor happens in the middle of the night, rushing to the hospital in your pj's, dad's hair all crazy-like, night nurses looking like they just had their fourth cup of hospital coffee and it's about to pay off, and loud screaming phone calls to the future grandmas-to-be shouting, "MOM! Get on a plane I'm GOING TO HAVE A BABY!" Then she screams, "Don't push 'til I get there!" And I scream, "I can't help it!" Then before I even get up to my Vegas-hospital room I've delivered a screaming baby girl in the elevator by myself because the nurse and my baby daddy decided to take the stairs, and when they find me I've cut the umbilical cord with my teeth, and am successfully breast feeding my newborn whom I have swaddled with a blanket I fashioned out of a patch of my nightgown I also cut with my teeth.

I apparently also think elevators move at a rate of two inches an hour.

Anyway, we're at thirty-one weeks! And I'm wearing the same thing I was last week!