Some people shouldn't be gifted mouths.

Being the wonderful mummy that I am, I crammed my pregnant belly behind the wheel of the car and went to the Halloween Parade at S's school today. I mostly keep to myself since I'm tired and don't have many positive thoughts running through my mind outside of just getting myself to Friday morning.

Finally, after my fingers have begun to swell to gigantic proportions, the fancy mask parade begins and I give my cheeriest smile I have left in me for all the cute little smiling faces. Cute, cute, cute is all I can say. There is this one little boy in kindergarten who is half the size of all his piers but you'd never know it for a minute because his whole face lights up when he smiles and you wouldn't notice his size if it jumped out and bit you. He's meowing his way through the parade with his little kitten mask he made in art class melting my heart with every step. I'm happy, content and eagerly waiting for my first grader to pass me by. I'm excited to see the relief on her face when she spots me; one of the perks of being a stay at home mom. She asks if I even recognize her with her mask on and I pretend I don't see her. Too cute for words.

The parade is coming to a close and all the parents are sauntering near the entrance and suddenly I spot a fellow daisy scout mom and we share a few words. Only hers are stupid and idiotic and I had all I could do not to tell her what a stupid idiot she is.

"Oh, honey, you've grown." Yeah, no shit. "Are you still babysitting?" No, I finished up last Friday since my c-section is scheduled for three days from now. Thought I could use the extra rest. "C-section you say? Honestly, that's the easy way out. I feel like all women should have to push if I had to. I told my sister to go natural and she insisted on a c-section. I told her she needed to earn that baby!" Earn that baby. EARN THAT BABY. Oh I've earned that baby alright. Who in their right mind would tell a woman who's been pregnant for nearly a year that she needs to EARN her baby. What the fuck ever you dumb broad. I didn't even have words for her. If I had spoke the entire school would of heard me and to be honest I'm not sure my colorful language would be accepted as appropriate for a school function.

Honestly, I really don't understand people some days.

You know you're losing your pregnant mind when.....

you suddenly announce to your husband at 3 am that it sucks having to lock yourself in the bathroom for days so you can update your myspace page every 10 minutes....(I have no idea where that came from!?)

or Thursday morning you're diligently baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and driving your child to school the next morning, cookies in tow, for a Halloween party that isn't until Tuesday.

With the baby's arrival so close at hand I believe my mind is getting fuzzier and fuzzier. Normally I have my very own built in remember all; birthdays, anniversaries, important dates to remember all written on my internal calendar. I'm afraid someone may have taken a match to it while I wasn't looking.

Perhaps it's the lack of sleep that has driven me mad, or at least partly to blame. Does this continue after the birth of your child I wonder, or am I looking at a good three years of crazy??

Ever feel like the worst

Mother in the entire world. It feels like I'm having more worst moments than best lately. I'm lacking BIG TIME in the patience category. I may start wearing a Halloween mask just so I can blame the craziness on the ugly witch with the green face and large wart on her nose.

Yesterday was just one of those days I guess. Everything coming down on me at one time and I not being able to handle ANY of it without losing my head. I had S in tears while she was doing her homework because she couldn't quite remember which letters were vowels and which were consonants, the twenty month old I watch part-time was running around sticking her fingers in all the uncovered outlets, I was on the phone with Home Depot bitching about the $25 late fee that I was refusing to pay, and my pain in the ass terrier was chasing my wimpy ass cat around the house at full speed. I had all I could do to keep from lying on the floor in a puddle that would of been my tears. The only thing holding me back was the fact that I wasn't so sure that my big pregnant ass could actually get up OFF the floor once down there. After getting the late fee waved, apologizing while wiping tears off a homework paper, finally covering up those last two outlets, and kicking the dogs ass, I started dinner. Shortly there after the hubby made it home and I was free to let a few tears of my own fall. A little release does the body good, but I have to admit that I could have curled up into a ball (again, if I was in fact capable of that action) and cried into the wee hours of the morning.

Truth be told, I've been weeping a lot lately. I'm just plain tired of carrying this baby around. My body is ready for a comeback, or at least some sort of comeback that doesn't require a living human growing inside of it. I'm ready to sleep soundly, even if it is in short increments. I'm ready to wear something other than the one pair of pants that fit me. I could care less if they were orange lounge pants with baby puke and crusty boogers all over them, I just want options dammit. OPTIONS!!!

I'm almost there now. I have less than 10 days left until delivery. SINGLE DIGITS!!!! Thankfully there is a lot going on between now and then and weekends always bring my spirits up. I just need J now more than I normally do. It's comforting to know that he's here in case I need....oh...a punching bag. :-)

23 more days

until I meet my new daughter. November 3rd is the scheduled day of delivery, provided she doesn't decide to arrive a little early and give us all a special surprise.

Only 23 more days. I think I can manage that.

Note to self.

Try and refrain from taking a bath in your 9th month of pregnancy. Unless of course you invest in say.....a hot tub. You might be able to fit in that a little better.

It wasn't THAT bad, it's more of a design flaw for pregnant women and at the same time a perfect design for pregnant women. At the end of my bath tub there is a little seat. The seat bodes well for showering pregnant women since the seat doubles as a sturdy foot rest while shaving legs. I must admit that this is one task I've kept up with regularly throughout my pregnancy. For the most part the legs have been as soft and silky smooth as they have always been. However, when trying to relax in a hot bath, the seat doesn't work quite as well. Not to mention the fact that my tummy is like a huge boulder sticking out in the middle of a peaceful lake. It was cute and lasted all of 5 minutes before I decided that the shower works best for me in my current state. Oh well. It was worth a try AND I even managed to get up out of the tub without any help. Good thing, since there was no help around.

Cravings are funny lately. I can't seem to get enough baby carrots and apples. I'm on my second bag of carrots in three days and have eaten my way through a bushel of apples in the last few weeks it seems. There are a few other cravings.....like devil dogs, ring dings, swiss rolls. Basically anything that includes chocolaty cake with a creamy filling. Can't be good all the time.

I've also made a decision on delivery I think. I'm always back and forth and have been since finding out about the pregnancy, but now that the big day is drawing nearer I've decided to go for the repeat c-section. Why go through hell if you don't have to? Why not take advantage of the planned event? It will make it so much easier for scheduling help with S and the convenience of knowing exactly when this is going to be over. A countdown so to speak. I am hoping to schedule the surgery at my next ob appointment next Tuesday.

Speaking of, I can't believe it's almost over. I'm not kidding myself into thinking it's all down hill from here. There are still a few sleepless nights, discomfort and agony ahead of me, but it seems very real to me now. I'm going to have a BABY!!!!! SOON!!!!!! I can hardly wait to meet her and feel her tiny little fingers wrap around mine. I want to smell her sweet little baby smell and tickle her little baby feet. I am beside myself with joy thinking of the quiet moments I'll steal with her. I know the baby moon isn't always what you've dreamed about for 40 weeks but with the nasty diapers and screaming infant comes all the good stuff I mentioned above.

It's going to be wonderful watching her grow. Being able to stay at home with my children is the greatest gift I've ever been given. It's not all roses but it's not all thorns either.

What was I thinking?

Reading the blog of a grieving mother who just lost her newborn baby back in June? I must be absolutely nuts. I'm not freaking out majorly or anything like that. I'm also not the paranoid type that waits for something bad to happen to me. I would like to think that I'm an optimistic with a dash of complainer. Sometimes more one than the other depending on my day. It's just amazingly sad reading about this woman's pain from losing her child. I can't seem to stop dipping into the past 6 months of her life.

Two weeks before the birth of her baby she was feeling much like I am right now, exhausted, irritated, slightly irrational and a tad sick of being pregnant. One entry ended with the comment "How am I going to manage a pre-schooler AND a baby?" My heart broke for her at that moment because I was peeking into her past; there is no baby to juggle. How sad for her that she went through the entire pregnancy and birth just to have her baby die in an ambulance on the way to the nearest NICU after living a brief 7 hours. She wasn't even with her when she died. There wasn't even a reasonable explanation for her death. Something about the umbilical cord being compressed for too long and the baby suffered severe brain damage due to lack of oxygen.

The mom chose a home birth and is a midwife in training. Most women choosing a home birth end up having the experience they dreamed of. Having their beautiful child placed into their arms, breastfeeding the minute the child finds the sustenance and lying comfortably in bed an hour later with their lover and baby between them connecting the love they share for a lifetime. This home birth did not work out that way. It just doesn't seem fair though I know life isn't fair by any stretch of the imagination. There is a circle to life and sometimes that circle is long and prosperous and sometimes that circle is over soon after it began.

I'm sad for her loss and I hope that someday she and her family find peace with their loss. I can't imagine what a void this has left in their hearts. I'm grateful for reading her story. It puts things in perspective right at this moment. I'm learning to enjoy the last few moments of my baby growing inside of me. I'm doing my best to give into the discomforts and sharp jabs to the ribs that take my breath away. It all signifies a gift that has been given to me. A tiny living wonder that I will cherish and love with all of my heart.

Now, if only I could stop having crazy dreams about my own baby being less that perfect....we'll be okay. I know she'll be fine and the chances of something happening are slim. I've just read too much it seems and have added one more thing to the bag of crazy dreams I'm having in these last few weeks of preggoness. Did I happen to mention that it is OCTOBER!!!!!?????!!!!!

Did you honestly believe

that you could railroad him into a corner and come out on top. Not ALL of our leaders, former and otherwise, are complete idiots.

That interview makes me smile, smile, smile.

Hush little baby

don't say a word. Or just stop with the rolling around in my stomach all hours of the night. One would think that sleep should come easily. ESPECIALY in the last trimester, even more so in the last month give or take a week. I'm going to be a walking zombie for a few months in the very near future. I need to get my sleep NOW.

I know you can't really stock up on sleep. It doesn't work that way. I know that I'm unable to sleep now because I need to be used to getting up and having a chubby little luv bug beckoning its mama for nourishment. But dammit if I don't wish it different.

I want to slap my husband's adorable face clean off because he's breathing too loudly. He's sleeping and I'm lying here wrestling a fetus. I rock my body from side to side in hopes that I can get her fooled into sleep. It's not working. I'm on the verge of tears and there isn't a layette adorable enough to make me feel any better.

The only thing that would make my forget all about all the woes of pregnancy at this moment is a sleeping babe in my arms. However, I would settle for one in my tummy right about now. Please, please, please hush little baby. Mama needs some zzzzzzz's.

The scary part of this.....

is that it could actually happen. Nothing is impossible; our so called freedoms are guaranteed by no one. There could come a day when we are trying to escape the madness of our leaders. We could become the immigrants fighting for a chance at a better life, and willing to die in the process to regain the freedoms that for years have been taken for granted.

http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2006/9/20/174152/072

Will there be brighter days when our fearless leader is no longer in control of our country? What does our future have in store? Funny I use the word our. The contents of the story linked above would lead us to believe that it isn't ours at all and the worst is yet to come.

Just guess what I'm thinking today.

I am in serious need. Serious need of change. Not so much in my daily routine, but more so in the area of say, my body.

I have had small fluctuations in my daily moods ranging from unbearably pissed off to breathing. I say breathing because there hasn't been much that has brought me true, lasting, insurmountable joy. I'm happy because I'm just happy in my life. I'm grateful for what I've been given. I'm even grateful that I can carry a child inside of my own incubator and share part of myself with the person I've chosen to spend my days and nights with for eternity. But seriously, enough is enough.

I NEED this to be over. I NEED to move on with the next phase of motherhood. I NEED to feel normal again, or at least a different version of normal. And last but not least, I NEED a stiff drink among other things.

I am just spent, tired, SICK TO DEATH of this pregnancy. It's consuming me night and day. I've forgotten who I am anymore and feel like the pregnant lady waddling aimlessly along because my memory has lapsed yet again and I have no idea what it is I'm setting out to accomplish. I feel like all sanity is lost, never to return again. Ever.

I can't cuddle my husband comfortably anymore. I have no interest in anything sexual. I can't even see my va-j-j. I'm barely capable of wiping after a bathroom break. Not that it matters because I'm usually pissing myself a couple of seconds later when I bend over to hike up my lovely maternity pants. I could go on and on but there are more than a few mums out there who can relate to each and every one of my complaints and have lived to tell the tale.

I just wish that my mind had other things floating around in it. This here preggo thing has exhausted it's welcome. On the bright side, I have about 6 more weeks to go. That's not SOOOOO bad, I guess. Another happy thought is my up and coming visit this weekend with my sister and her two children. I can't wait to have some time with family. Even if only for a few days. It will take my mind off things briefly and boost my spirits for a wee bit. After that I'll be nesting like crazy and getting ready for the anticipated arrival of my darling child.

A few pics.....

Uncensored version in really ugly grandma pants.....but you gotta do what you gotta do.....there is no such thing as feeling pretty in your 8th month.




The spoiled family pet.



Family photo.



My brand new 1st grader!!!!

How dare she!!

My little baby girl got into trouble for the first time at school yesterday. She hopped off the bus in a fit of despair yesterday afternoon and exclaimed how HORRIBLE her day was. It was her first devastating experience with one of her teachers.

I had the day off in regards to babysitting duties yesterday. I was so excited to have some alone time to bond with her. I even picked up smoothie skittles for an afternoon snack to fit the occasion. Good thing I was prepared for lifting spirits and wiping tears. I was grateful I could pull out something special to make it all better.

The story begins as we're walking up our driveway and I had asked how her day was.

"I got into trouble today, Mom."

"You did, what happened?"

In the best sarcastic voice she could muster to mask the tears approaching, she continued. "Because I didn't read a book!!"

"Why didn't you read a book?"

Tears are now dangerously close to the brim of those luscious eye lashes. "Because I was tired, Mom, and I didn't think she was serious!!"

"Well honey, you should listen to your teacher. Did you cry?"

Large tear slowly crept down her soft kissable cheek. "YES!!!! And she sent me to the HALLWAY!!! She said I was wasting my time!!! All the other kids were being loud and talking and I was just sitting there and I was the one getting into trouble!! Only one other kid asked me if I was sad and everything!!"

The conversation continued with me questioning her, making sure I got the story straight. The whole version of the story, not just S's version. Turns out the teacher had asked her twice to get a book and S being the day dreaming mosey type unknowingly tested the patience that teacher had left at the end of a long drawn out day with 20 6 yo kids.

I know this mosey very well, but I couldn't help but feel a bit defensive thinking that some woman I barely know had made my daughter cry. I secretly wanted to draw blood and make her pay for the pain inflicted upon my sweet darling child. Doesn't she realize how lucky she is to even have her in her classroom?!?!!!!!!! I managed to hold my composure and make the best of a bad day. What kind of role model would I be if I had ranted and raved about how dumb that stupid teacher was and perhaps she should use alternative discipline procedures with sensitive children like mine?

I simmered a while and thought heavily on how I would approach this situation with my little gem. I explained that happens sometimes at school and that listening and following through the first time is always best in any situation with any grown up in charge. Other children's behavior should have nothing to do with her own and to always do what she feels is right. I explained to her that sometimes after a long day the teacher's tolerance of "bad" behavior is not as great as it may have have been that morning and that may have been the reason she was sent into the hall.

We talked, shared skittles and sat at the table together while she worked on her homework. I showed her the fantastic sticker she got on the previous days homework and the "Beautiful Work!!" the teacher wrote up in the corner as well. I hugged her and told her that next time she should pay close attention and make sure she follows the teacher's directions always and if she did so, she wouldn't get into trouble like that again. I let her know that the teacher still likes her and that she just needs her to pay attention and to use her time in the very best learning ways she can at school.

I still hate that she cried, but I know I have one of the most sensitive children on the block. She is a Pisces, after all. A very sensitive, emotional Pisces who can be hurt easier than most. It just broke my sensitive Pisces heart is all.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........

I think I may make it after all. School is back is session and I am free to rest and rejuvenate myself as needed for the last two months of this pregnancy. Not too mention the fighting is down from ten hrs a day to three and I for one couldn't be happier.

I've been deprived of much needed sleep lately due to churning thoughts and less than comfortable body positions. When I am sleepy enough to fall asleep I wake up a million times to empty my bladder that is incapable of holding more than a teaspoon full it seems. If it's none of the above, I'm battling a squirming baby in my stomach that just happens to find time to party on at 2 am. I actually took a three hour nap today and could of slept another hour. It felt so good to get into bed without anyone in there to crack me in the head with an elbow and since the growing fetus was so tired from partying all.night.long, she was actually tired as well. WOO HOO!!! S actually mentioned how much happier I seemed today and she just knew once I could get some rest that I would be in better spirits. I felt happy and sad at the same time hearing her words. Hopefully, at least for her sake, I'll be able to manage a good mood or two over the next few weeks.

There is something to be said for routine and order I guess. It feels good to run a tighter ship because of schedules and such. I've really missed having my alone time and I know S missed the social interaction with her piers. WaHOO!! Now if I can just make it through eight more weeks of feeling liked a stuffed turkey! Lucky for me I'll have popped my timer already come Thanksgiving.

One.More.Week.

However short that may seem to some, it feels like a lifetime over here in my neck of the woods. Two months ago I couldn't wait for summer to begin and school to be out. Now.....if I don't see a big yellow bus soon I'm going to lose my mind.

I know that there are so many other wonderful Mommies in the world praising the gods of No. 2 pencils that their little angels are slipping on their trusty new back packs for yet another year of arduous learning. I know I sure am. I can hardly keep my eyes open for more than 4 hours at a time. I slip in and out of consciousness all day practically. It's a wonder that we haven't had any accidental fires or hair cutting of any sorts the past month.

I wonder if I would feel differently if I weren't approaching my 8th month of pregnancy. I have a serious lack of motivation as of late and it is killing me physically and emotionally. I have a ton of things I could do but barely find myself capable of the bare minimum. It doesn't help that I have to spread my legs two feet apart just to bend over to pick up a crayon. I lose my cookies regularly and always feel incredibly guilty that I can't seem to deal with the normal everyday noise levels and messes of 6 year olds. By the end of the day I feel like I've burned more brain cells than any smoke fest I've ever attended. And that's saying something.

I am praying that the change in routine does the mind some good (there is no hope for the body for at least another two months). I can nap without worry every morning and do my prenatal yoga without having to pause mid way through to diffuse a fight over who had what barbie first. Not exactly conducive to a peaceful mindstate, as if doing yoga with a belly the size of a large watermelon was easy to begin with.

Daily struggles aside, I finally have an end in sight. I can hardly wait for One.More.Week. to get here and pass me by.

Can I

make it 11 more weeks? Sure. But it ain't gonna be pretty.

How quickly we forget what it feels like to carry a beloved child in our womb for that last home stretch.

I'm rummaging through old photographs to see if I actually made it through this once before. Right about now I'm doubting that. My strength and overwhelming joy are eluding me at the moment.

I feel like a whiny little baby because I'm just barely 7 1/2 months. I wonder if it should feel this uncomfortable already. Are you sure this baby wasn't concieved in December?

Several folks have given me that "holy shit woman, you're ready to have that baby any day huh?" Eat shit people. That's all I have to say to you.

I am not going to be the prettiest girl walking these next two months. Nor the nicest I dare say.

I'm sick

That is my only way to describe myself when it comes to certain things. One thing would be my dog Sadie.

We all know how lonely it is to be a stay-at-home Mom sometimes. Especially when you're isolated from friends and family. You try and meet other Moms and venture out sometimes to playgroups, YMCA, and other kiddie hangouts, but more often than not you never find anyone that clicks. Finding someone who can understand half hick/half whatever the other half of me is can be rather tricky. I don't even understand myself most of the time, how am I to expect complete strangers to.

Having said all that, for Christmas last year, during one particular week moment on my husband's part, he agreed on an indulgence of a brand spanking new puppy. A little buddy that could be all my own when everyone is gone, leaving Mama all alone with nothing to do except laundry. As much grief and angst as this sweet little darling causes me, I love her. I have developed a rather tight bond with her, and she with me. The thing about a dog is, they never cease to show you how much they adore you. If I'm sitting on the couch, Sadie is sitting with me. If I'm trying to catch up on some of my lost zzzzz's, she's snuggling cozily beside my growing belly. If I'm having a tinkle moment in the bathroom, she's looking up at me with big brown eyes waiting for me to finish my business so we can cuddle again. She LOVES her some Mama.

I'm suffering great anxiety today. Anxiety caused from having to leave my puppy at a hospital for two nights to have surgery. Two very long and agonizing nights my baby will be separated from her Mama. This is going to be more traumatic for her than me because I swear the dog suffers from separation anxiety as it is. When she goes out to pee in the morning she freaks out when she comes back in because she was away from her family for an agonizing 15 seconds.

I know it's silly to feel so sad about my dog getting fixed. She is only going in to get spayed. It will probably aide in making her a calmer and more enjoyable dog and keep her healthy for years to come. Dogs can get all kinds of ailments in their reproductive organs if not spayed. I don't want her getting sick and I certainly don't want her having sex with any other dogs either. So we HAVE to do this. She will be in the capable hands of my husbands aunt, the vet, her surgery will be free of charge and we can do all this in one quick trip to the in-laws.

Maybe it's not so much leaving Sadie that is causing me the stress as much as the quick trip to the in-laws. Who knows.

I'll survive, Sadie will survive and all will be well. No more handmade doggie diapers. No more bitchy puppies struggling puberty. It's straight into menopause for my little babe.

I know, I need help. Or a couple of friends. Dogs are easier.

Heartburn sucks

That is about all I have to say about that.

I went to the ob today for my 27 wk appointment. I swear those people want to keep pushing my number back a week every time I go in there.

I'm 27 weeks and there is nothing you can do to change my mind people. I don't care what your wheel is telling you, I'm telling you that I'm 27 weeks. Make a damn note of it.

"Oh my, do you realize that you gained 7 lbs this month dear?!?"

Why no, ma'am. I had no idea I had gained that much weight. What, with all the time I spend on the scale at home I just didn't have time to add up the numbers in my head.

First of all, it was 6 lbs. And yes, I'm well aware the scales are creeping up at a rate faster than what is deemed appropriate for the average pregnant lady. No one is more aware of that that me.

Did it ever occur to you that I may not be average. Or perfect, or as disciplined as some of the other pregnant women you're taking care of. Or maybe I haven't been able to adequately remove waste from my body more than once every 10 days for the last 6 + months. That's got to count for something.

I hate going to the see the Dr. I hate the critical comments. I hate the horrific gasps every time I step onto a scale. I am not a child. I swear to God that I'm doing everything in my power to curb my weight gain. I even manage to feel some pride in the fact that I've only gained 25 lbs so far during this pregnancy. I say only because I gained 60 the first time around. Right now I weigh 40 lbs less than I did when I went in to deliver S. I know most women should only gain 25-35 lbs. but I'm not most women. I'm me. And I just might gain 40 this time around. If that happens I'll be jumping for joy because I have 20 lbs less to lose after this baby is born than I did with my first. To me that feels pretty darn good.

I told my sister what happened today and how much weight I have gained and she busted out laughing at me. "You're going to put on 50 lbs." she said.

I always knew you were the mean one, oh and just for the record, I weigh the same as you do right this minute at 7 months pregnant. I hate to think such mean thoughts but sometimes I feel like she is just waiting for me to do something wrong so she can rub it in my face. Sometimes she can be so cruel.

Anyway. That is another post for another day.

Blame it on the heartburn I guess. I get cranky when I can't sleep, and lately that seems to be ALL the time. I am scared to even think of what the next three months will be like.

Private bathroom

does NOT mean that you're the ONLY one using it. Honestly, who do you think cleans the darn thing? The cleaning fairy from the far away land that also houses the laundry fairy perhaps?? Um, no. I dare say it's your pregnant wife fairy, and she's about to kick your a$$.

I understand that I may not radically change your behavior overnight. I'm not asking for miracles here folks, just one small act of kindness. One brief moment where you remember that your partner, lover, wife, mother to your baby girl(s) gets up in the night at least once to use the latrine. At roughly 2:00 am I roll out of bed, secure myself to a somewhat stable balancing act, waddle to the bathroom and tinkle.

Picture this, Spencer, New York, 2006. The aforementioned waddler manages to get to the bathroom safely. (When you do this as much as I do you eventually memorize each and every part of your journey and forego any possibly lighting.) She readies herself ever so elegantly in front of the porcelain bowl she plans on using to deposit her nightly (sometimes hourly) tinkle. She slowly descends, aiming for the perfect landing and SPLASH!!!!

Yes, you're visualizing correctly. The splash was my not so tiny white bum landing in a bowl full of water (clean, I hope) and nearly creating the tightest vacuum seal known to man. I was literally one afternoon snack shy of ripping the toilet bowl clean off the floor. So there I am, 6 1/2 months pregnant with my rump sitting in three inches of cold (it so better be clean) toilet water at 2:00 am this morning. The rest is history. (Though I must mention that I said NOTHING to the perp when I returned to bed dry and confused.) I've lived to tell the tale this morning and I'm assuming there is no permanent damage done to either myself or the toilet.

So please honey, I'm begging you. If you only remember one time in the course of your day to lower the seat for your lady, do it before you slide into bed. I understand, you leave it up, I leave it down. All I'm asking for, and only during pregnancy if that is all you can afford me, is to kindly leave me a safe landing strip at night. Only because all it takes is a single good splash on the bum to ruin just ONE pregnant lady's day. Don't let it be mine.

A little something

I miss the way my daughter used to singularize clothes. "Mom, can you wash this clo for me?" Now she just says it like everyone else. The bright side is, she still says aminal. I've threatened anyone who tries to get her to say it correctly. It will happen soon enough. Now, if she's 12 and still calling them aminals at the zoo, I may be tempted to correct her. But right now my little 6 year old gets to say it her way.

The belly shot.

I have the pleasure of knowing some wicked good ladies. One has requested a belly shot and I am more than happy to oblige. How can something that causes me so much grief and discomfort be so darned cute? And to think that it's going to nearly double still. Lord help me. Only 15 more weeks to go. Ugh!!!