I Curse You

My daughter is not good at waking up. She's groggy and fussy and usually a little hangry when she does. Any one of those isn't a preferable state for anyone, but a combo, in a 2.5 year old none the less, just sucks. When she was a baby the post sleep fussiness could usually be soothed with some snuggles and a snack of sorts. But now that she's a full blown toddler and can talk (a lot. My kid talks A LOT)... That groggy/fussy/hangry combo is incessant whining and an overall miserable disposition.

It doesn't matter what it is, where we are, or what we are doing, she is having none of it. Wake up in the morning and it starts with not wanting to get dressed. But she also wants clothes and out of jammies (if she still has them on). But no getting dressed. Yes dressed. Doesn't want to pick them out. But not what mommy picks out. She needs to pick them out. But she doesn't want to. Not mommy. Her. Not her. Not mommy. At some point I force clothes someone selected through kicks and tears and then battle again a few moments later with breakfast/shoes/going to the baby sitters/whatever the day entails all over again. It's gas-lighting at it's finest.

Recently I've been trying to take her out on my own and expand her world more. And I really want to enjoy these times with my darling girl, especially since we only have about 2-3 more weeks left of her being an only child. But god she can make that really hard. Because when we go on these mommy and me adventures, we typically have some sort of drive to the said adventure (suburbia, for all it's niceties severely lacks in walk-able and public transport accessible adventures). So she tends to fall asleep in the car, so when we get to the adventure she was so excited for...she is miserable and bloody hates it. 

Seriously, whatever it is. This girl will throw a fit. And want nothing to do with this and everything to do with this simultaneously and express that sentiment several times over with def-con 10 whining. It doesn't matter if it was a fleet of unicorns with ice cream covered in chocolate sauce and sprinkles in a bounce castle in Disney World. With a puppy because why the fuck not. It's a NO.

So I curse you car seat nap. Curse you with the fire of a 1000 suns and may the flames of hell consume you. You turn my darling girl into a total jerk which brings her waddling pregnant mommy to tears. Curse you.

Old Wives Tales 2.0

We're waiting until Little Lion (or Crab depending when they are born*) to find out the sex of this baby. But just like their big sister, we have to rely on the old wives tales and speculate again.
*please just stay in until mommy's birthday kiddo!

Here are the 2018 old wives tales:

1. Sleep position: Sleep on my right side = girl, Sleep on my left side = boy
• I guess my right side more, because my back arches weirdly when on my left side. And once I'm on a side it's too much effort to roll over. But I'm actually most comfortable on my back. Girl
2. Nausea: Sick as a dog = girl. Happy no nausea preggo? = boy
• Remember my Long Jacket blog? Yeah. I was still sick the first trimester but it was a  different sick than my first pregnancy. That one I would puke at dinner time without fail, but this one was far less puking. (yay!) However overall I had a gross cloud of nausea all the time. Girl
3. Food cravings: sweet cravings and citrus = girl. Salty cravings = boy 
• Salt. OMG the salt. I'll still have a sweet tooth, and I like my orange juice in the morning and lemonade all the time. But for a while there I wanted nothing but chips and I may or may not have contemplated pouring the salt shaker directly into my mouth a few times. Boy
4. Food again: If you crave meat it's a boy. If you'd rather not: girl.
• Little Turkey I had a big meat aversion so no deli meat and soft cheese was no big deal. This pregnancy: I have never wanted that turkey sandwich I'm not allowed to have more. (still no love for soft cheese though) And hot dogs? Yes please (just nuke the hell out of them (or "forget" that guideline like I did because dammit I'm growing a human and I will eat what I want) Boy   
5. Soft or dry skin: soft = girl, dry = boy
• Dry. Dry, dry dry. I swear this kid is sucking all the moisture out of me now mater how much water I drink. Boy
6. Girls steel your beauty, boys enhance 
• I'm breaking out more than usual, but I actually put on makeup for a while there. And I've been told I'm "absolutely glowing" on several occasions. So I say boy because people tell me I'm pretty.  
7. Graceful swan= girl. Clumsy = boy
• Bending is highly overrated. Boy
8. A fuller full face = girl. Normal face = boy
• A little fuller but not like a puffer fish fuller. I've had mostly a normal face.  Boy
• I may have just asked my coworkers this for clarification and they all said "uuuh...normal?" So there may be some bull shit in there but I'm taking it.  
9. Moody? = girl. Even keel = boy
• Would it be considered moody if you don't give any fucks? Yeah when there are feels I have all of the feels. But mostly I've just given zero fucks for almost everything. Boy 
10. How I carry the belly: high = girl, low = boy
• Right right in the middle again. Neutral 
11. How I carry the belly "sports" edition: cute round basketball shape belly = boy. Not as cute wider pointier football shape belly = girl 
• Adorable basketball belly. Boy
12. Weight gain in the front = boy, weight gain that spread out = girl 
• I don't have ankles anymore. My wedding bands came off the first trimester. And my little sister's maternity pants are snug because I will always be taller and older. Girl. 
13. Conception age and the year are both even or odd = girl. An even/odd combination = boy
• I became pregnant at 35 in the year 2017. So two odds combo is a Girl
14. Heartbeat: 140+ = girl 140- = boy
• Most heartbeat readings have been less than 140.  Boy
15. Mommy's dreams: whatever you dream you're having-that's it.
• Somewhere in my nightly bat-shit crazy dreams I dreamed boy. Boy

So in the girl column we have: 4
And in the boy column we have: 10
And neutral for shits and giggles : 1

So...guess we'll see soon enough no matter what!

Salty

I've been craving salty things more this pregnancy which makes me think this baby is a boy. But we'll find out soon enough one way or the other.

Anyway here are some of the other things I'm salty about :

• my house not having air conditioning because it's builder grade and the builders were dipshits with shoddy workmanship and didn't give a damn about actual living conditions
• the darling furnace growing in me tossing around all it's bony parts and causing general uncomfortablness  
• my allergies acting up and not being able to take a damn bit of the good drugs
• my husband not having to get a TDap shot for either of my pregnancies. (I'm really salty about that one)
• the mommy wars
• seeing all the Woodford Reserve at the Derby and knowing I can't have any for a while
• having the pee all the time
• the patriarchy
• racism
• sexism
• being thirsty all the time and so totally bored with water
• the hypocrisy of the GOP
• people not using their turn signals
• internalized misogyny  
• autocorrect 
• autotune and theses not singing just stupidly talking which is not singing on popular radio
• people (gleefully - I might add) telling me I'm getting bigger
• anyone invading my personal bubble
• my body being up for public discussion
• toxic masculinity
• being hungry all the time and not wanting any of snacks I brought
• bending
• people assuming I'm an invalid and incapable of doing anything because I'm pregnant
• people not helping me even though I'm pregnant - I want to sit and don't make me run around 

Taller and Older

When I lived in Kentucky occasionally I would run into people I had gone to school with (k-12) or they had worked or taught there. But as time goes on you forget names, so most people knew I was one of the T-girls, but couldn't remember if I was the big or little one. When we were kids it was easier to tell us apart because I was "taller and older." And for the record, I still am.

Fast forward to today. As grown adults my sister and I have very similar body shapes overall. (and similar styles too it seems since we both wore the exact same sweater from stitch fix at thanksgiving) Since I'm the first kid and the first granddaughter on both sides, I didn't get a lot of hand-me downs. And though my little girl is our first born she has 2 older female cousins who gave her their outgrown wardrobes, so most of her clothes are hand-me downs. When I visited my sister a month ago she gave me a bunch of her maternity clothes which is great because because she had summer clothes and baby 2 is due in July, aka peak-stupid-hot-summer. So in a little bit of role reversal, I was getting hand-me downs from my little sister. We're going through them and I held up a pair of pants and asked if they were capris from the proportions.

Her response: no, they're regular length, my ass just got that big. Holy sh*t my ass got that big?! (she also was the one to tell me to put coco butter there to minimize stretch marks) 

A week later I was wearing a different pair of pants from her and they were tight. So I texted her: I'm wearing the maternity khakis from you and they are snug. So even if your ass got larger when pregnant, know mine is wider. 😂

Looks like I'm always going to be the bigger sister!

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby!

Just like with Little Turkey, dr soc and I are going to find out the sex of Little Lion when they are born. So it either amuses me or annoys me when people have a negative opinion on not knowing the sex of our child. And yeah, driving people nuts is part of the fun. But this pregnancy I'm less amused and much more annoyed at those opinions. Probably because that opinion is usually accompanied with the additional opinion of what the opinioner wants (or assumes what we want) the sex to be.

Because we honestly don't care. We've never really cared what the sex of our children would be. Little Turkey it didn't matter because, well, that's just a privilege of being the first born. But we don't have a preference with Lion either. I'm one of 2 girls and dr soc is one of 2 boys (and we all turned out pretty good), so it's not like we think two of the same is a bad thing. 

So it upsets me a little bit when people say they want or assume we want one or the other (usually a boy). I mean, do people think we'll be disappointed one way or the other? Do they think dr soc wouldn't love another little girl as much as a boy? That I would love a little boy less because of my own sex?

I mean, it's a little human, one who will make our world a better place just for being in it. You don't need to have a specific sex for that. 

Long Jacket

So, I've already got something to hold over the this next kid's head. Also: thank god it was winter and my coat covers me to about mid thigh.

Before we were telling people I was expecting I was trying to hide (and usually failing) how miserable I felt at times. But other times...
Trigger warning: this is hilarious but disgusting.
We're out to lunch and my stomach/intestines were giving me first trimester nonsense. I went to the bathroom and sat to wait it out. After waiting for a while and nothing happening, everything happened. My stomach revolted and I had a half second to throw myself backwards, bend at the waist and I throw up all over myself. All. Over. I didn't take anything with me to the bathroom (because that's gross) so I was trapped.   

I waited a few minutes until someone else came into the bathroom, and when they finished washing their hands I called out: "excuse me...Um, in the first stall here. Hi, I'm pregnant and I had a bit of an accident..."
I asked a stranger in the bathroom to find my husband (and daughter) in the restaurant, tell him I'm okay, but I need my purse and coat. I thank her profusely when she comes back bringing both, assure I'm okay and thank her again. In my purse I have a plastic bag (to throw up in though lot of good it did me there), wipes to clean up, and my phone to text Mike what the hell is going on.

In the next few minutes I get as much of my lunch off of my clothes into the toilet, bag up all my clothes, and wipe up what the clothes didn't "catch." I button my coat, pull up my knee socks (those were clean), and texted my husband: I'm leaving the bathroom now. I'll meet you at the car. Took a deep breath, grabbed my bags, put my head down and walked out of the McCalisters in just my coat. We're pulling out of the parking lot when I get sick again and throw up out the window of the car. (sorry about that honey...but we're both really glad I made it out the window) And to add insult to injury, I still haven't done what I was waiting to do in the bathroom in the first place!

At home, I take a bath, everything eventually leaves my system in the privacy of my bathroom and I feel better okay enough. The kid takes a nap, and Mike and I settle on the couch to watch football. He asks how I'm doing and I ruefully say: that trench coat fantasy is not what it's cracked up to be.

Menagerie

Little Turkey is Little Turkey because she was due around Thanksgiving.
Little Lion is Little Lion because they're due late July and will be a Leo.
I'm growing quite the zoo.

Professionalism

The other day my coworker's husband brought something by for her and they had a quick little peck as he was leaving. I remarked how cute it was and how it reminded me of all the times I had visited dr soc's office and he wouldn't touch me. 😄

Seriously. In his defense at the time he didn't have his school's version of tenure, so by minding his P's and Q's to be as professional as possible he refused pretty much all physical contact whatsoever if on campus together. No peck on the cheek, no hug goodbye, no gentle touch for guidance, no encroachment into either personal bubble. Zero physical contact. He wouldn't even hold my hand.

But now that I have given him a child (and he has tenure) he has relaxed enough to be professionally affectionate. He figured if his coworkers will hug me hello/goodbye, holding my hand on occasion wouldn't professionally ruin him. Not to mention I would have been super pissed (and probably scene causing upset) as I waddled to the baby shower his coworkers threw for us if he had refused to hold my hand when my fingers were too puffy to wear my wedding bands!

Bull Poop

Parenting truth: Poop is a part of your daily conversation pieces.

If we're being honest, this sh*t (pun intended) starts even before the baby arrives. Because one of the unfun things about your body creating a human is that pretty much every other system in your body goes apesh*t in one way or another. And so you talk about it. Because you're pregnant and grumpy and out of f*cks to give.

Anyway. Here's some of our exchanges since becoming parents.

Baby is 3 days old-
me: Baby pooped on me. Parenting achievement unlocked.

Baby is 5 days old:
me: I have been pooped on twice today. That is all.

Baby is 4 months old-ish:
me: Blowout today was through her onesie and up her back, but her pants stayed clean.
dr soc: Impressive.
me: I know right?

After daycare drop off:
me: We're on outfit number 2 already.
dr soc: Already? 
me:  Yeah. If we're being honest we hadn't even left the house yet.
dr soc: Ouch.
me: And stinky.

After a particularly toxic diaper change:
dr soc: How bad?
me: Bath-worthy.

Two weeks ago:
dr soc: Ever seen a purple-looking nugget in baby girl's diapers?
me: Yup. Was there a gray tinge to it as well?
dr soc: Not sure, it's in the pail now. I was just surprised.
me: It probably did. Gray and nugget like from the yogurt and purple from the prunes.

today:
me: If you do nothing else today please for the love of god give our daughter a bath. There was poop on the wall.

Old Wives Tales

Want to know what Little Turkey is? We do too! But until baby make's it's big debut, we're just going to have to rely on the old wives tales I've been collecting (from the internets, coworkers, and completely random strangers all have opinions) and speculate. So:

1. Sleep position: Sleep on my right side = girl, Sleep on my left side = boy
• I try to sleep on both sides, but I usually start and wake up on my right. Girl
2. Nausea: Sick as a dog = girl. Happy no nausea preggo? (those b*tches!)? = boy
• Ugh, the 1st trimester overall nausea, dinnertime puking, random breakfast second trimester puking, and now the occasional wave of 3rd trimester nausea. Girl
3. Soft or dry hands: soft = girl, dry = boy
• I have both. Dry after washing my hands (which I do after going to the bathroom every half hour. So a lot), but then soft since I moisturize right after (which also happens about every half hour as well). Neutral
4. Food cravings: sweet cravings and citrus = girl. Salty cravings = boy 
• Oh the sweet tooth! The baby does a little happy dance when I indulge (I bought a billion bags of Halloween candy (I had coupons! $2 off 3, you bet your ass I did!)) And I have a glass of orange juice in the morning which is new. But then again, I love pickles on my hamburger and I typically only like a bite of pickle every 3 months or so. And I've selected  salty treats here and there too. But the sweet tooth is the overall ruler. Girl
5. Girls steel your beauty, boys enhance 
• Zits, oh the zits. My normally beautiful, soft, smooth, unblemished skin that is the envy of many is breaking out like crazy (3 zits at one time?!). Solidly girl  
6. Graceful swan= girl. Clumsy = boy
• I'm already a little clumsy, but now I knock myself into everything. I fall over in yoga. And my tummy bumps and gets in the way all the time. And why is getting up so difficult?  Boy
7. A fuller full face = girl. Normal face = boy
• normal face Boy
8. Moody? = girl. Even keel = boy
• People need to stop being so incredibly stupid if they don't want to irritate me. Some idiots can't even breath without showing their ineptitude at life. Which, no. I've been throwing some serious shade (refer back to number 2 if you need further clarification). I spit nails the other night because I couldn't access a silver alert and possibly help someone. My grouchy levels are high and my bullshit tolerance is non-existent. And the feels! Why is anything that is supposed to illicit the feels have so. many. feels?! WHY? So..uh yeah, girl. 
9. How I carry the belly: high = girl, low = boy
• No idea. I have a longer torso and my belly is right in the middle. Neutral 
10. How I carry the belly "sports" edition: cute round basketball shape belly = boy. Not as cute wider pointier football shape belly = girl 
• Adorable basketball belly. Boy
11. Weight gain in the front = boy, weight gain that spread out = girl 
• Considering people figured out I was pregnant before I told them because my ass getting wider, we'll give that one to the girl. 
12. Conception age and the year are both even or odd = girl. An even/odd combination = boy
• I became pregnant at 32 in the year 2015. So even/odd combo is a boy.
13. Internet Chinese gender prediction: enter your age and month you conceived baby and hit the predict button (I don't know the maths/reasoning behind these calculations) They just gave me 
• boy 
14. Heartbeat: 140+ = girl 140- + boy
• All heartbeat readings have been 140+ girl
15. Mommy's dreams: whatever you dream you're having, opposite is what comes out.
• Around 20 weeks I dreamed we were having a girl. Boy  
16. Tie husband's wedding ring to a string and dangle over my tummy. If it spins in a circle = girl. Spin back and forth = boy (This one is the most accurate because we tested this one over my friend's tummy who is also pregnant and we know she's having a girl, and her spin was a definite circle) 
• Back and forth, 2 of 3 times: Boy 

So in the girl column we have: 7
And in the boy column we have: 7
Neutral : 2

So...happy speculating!

General Baby Stuff

At 37 weeks I'm at the point of no return going to the doctor every week now. And if I go into labor the doctor wont stop it. But at least we confirmed that the baby flipped! Baby's head is down and butt is up, and isn't likely to flip back. S/he is still head butting my bladder and kicking/squishing my lungs at the same time which isn't the most pleasant, but at least we don't have to schedule a c-section before Thanksgiving. Phew! (I could still end up having one if baby decides to not come out in a reasonable amount of time, but that's a possibility I can handle)

In other pregnancy/baby news.
I was rear-ended the day before Halloween and I am fine. But since I wanted to get the baby checked out too (because that's what you do when you are pregnant) I had to go to labor and delivery since the ER doesn't have the monitoring equipment for a baby in utero. I go to the proper area, get hooked up to the fetal monitor and wait. And wait. And wait some more, and then was told the midwife wanted to keep me for about 4 more hours of observation. Which, fine, I already called work and Mike was with me and I like him a whole whole lot, so we just hung out for a while. Then about a half hour of us getting sprung, the on call doctor comes in. Turns out I has having contractions (that I had no idea I was having) 5-6 minutes apart (!) when when I first arrived and I was still having them (!!) every so often, so I was going to be kept 24 hours from the accident, so overnight, for more observation. So we got a trial run of our hospital stay, which is a good thing because we learned the place is cold and made notes about what to pack in the hospital bag for when the time actually comes. And baby was perfectly fine after all that, so that's good.
Oh yeah, that aforementioned hospital bag? We've sorta got it packed... Meaning we have stuff we can pack ahead of time set to the side but it's not in an actual bag yet. Because if we're being honest, having that bag packed freaks me out a little. And by "little" I mean holy-sht-i'm-going to be-a-mommy-so-it's-not-mature to admit I want to run away screaming.

Also, I'm over my body being up for public discussion. Well, I was never "in" to that for the record. When a patron at work informs me I wasn't pregnant the last time they saw me, (pretty sure they're wrong on that one)  or someone who doesn't even know my last name goes on and on how tiny I am for so far along, it's uncomfortable. I know being told you are a small pregnant woman is supposed to be flattering, but you are still talking about my body. Mine. Not up for public discussion. (Though if the political climate keeps going the way it is as a woman I'll have no rights over it anyway.) And we can also leave my baby's parts out of that public conversation. That's no one's business either. Unless we have a girl that is. Because then she'll have no rights over her body either and we can talk all about it.

Breech of Contract

At my last doctor's visit the doctor was feeling around my belly but couldn't quite figure out where baby's head was. So out comes the ultrasound machine and baby is breech.
That little punk!
However, at that appointment I was just over 34 weeks, so there's still time and space for baby to move head down and butt up. My doctor gave me the okay to try and flip the baby on my own with some yoga positions, so I every night I give it a go. She also mentioned an Indian ritual of walking over hot coals, but I'm just going to leave that one alone. As a last resort maybe I can convince baby to flip by telling him/her it's like flip cup, which is mommy's favorite drinking game.
Hopefully baby gets with the program and moves into the proper position by 39 weeks. Or else baby's probably coming out via c-section before Thanksgiving. Which, nope, OMG, not even going to process that right now. Becasue OMG. Before Thanksgiving.

Outliers

The hospital I'm having the baby at offers free prenatal classes, so I figured, when in Rome and signed us up for a series of childbirth classes. Here are some of the things we have learned so far:

• There are stages and sub-stages of actual labor. And it can take a long time to get a baby out.
• But at least the possible long labor has a pretty sweet labor/delivery/birthing/postpartum suite.
• I'm definitely having drugs.
• Epidural babies may come out sleepy and could have a hard time latching when trying for that first feeding.* 
• Daddies will pack the hospital bag wrong, as well as the wrong picture and/or going home outfit.** So it's best to do it yourself.
• Daddies also don't listen to mommies when football or whatever huntin' and fishin' show they like is on.*
• Dr soc and I are the class outliers. We are the only ones in the class who are going to be surprised on the sex, and we also won't share the names we have picked out.
• But we're not the weirdest ones either. We certainly were not the ones who asked if we could keep the placenta and if it was possible to make a smoothie out of it.**  
• We are the snarky classmates though. While every other parent set were sharing that their favorite part of pregnancy is feeling the baby kick* and/or watching mom's body change/grow life sentimental stuff, dr soc shared that his favorite part is that we can sit at the grownup's table now since we'll have a child ourselves, and I said that my favorite part is all the snacks and people doing stuff for me all the time. It's the truth!

*Or did I learn that at the breastfeeding class I took? In that class I learned why lactation consultants can be referred to as lactation nazis. They have very strong opinions on breastfeeding and how it is the most important thing you can ever do for your baby with it's countless benefits and formula is a dead food and other than nutrients won't benefit baby at all and you are horrible.
**Wait, are these separate things? Baby only has a Christmas photo shoot outfit and no other clothes because gender neutral stuff doesn't exist, and now I need two outfits? Shit.
*We didn't find either of those sexist at all. Nope.
** Seriously someone asked that. The nurse teaching the class didn't know so she said to refer to dr google. (some cultures/religions do save it but it's not a western world practice. The making it into a smoothie though is definitely some sort of ethnocentric western world idea thing.)
*Yeah those kicks and rolls are fun and exciting and all that jazz, But sometimes those dance party/ninja warrior moves hurt and it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if baby could get off my bladder at the same time baby is stretching into my lungs. Play with one organ at a time please.

They

I've been using the more grammatically correct (at least I think it's more grammatically correct) term of "they" rather than "he/she/it" when referencing my baby. It's just something I've said whenever referring to the baby even before we didn't find out the sex. But whenever I say "they" people ask if I'm having twins. I explain no, I just don't know what they are, I'm not about to say "it" and now it's just habit. And I figure, it's only 15 more weeks (OMG just 15?) so while I still have to explain, it won't be for much longer. (seriously, only 15 more weeks?)

Well I had a doctor's appointment on Friday and my doctor was running a little late. When she arrives at the office she jumps right into work like the pro that she is, but I understand it can take some time to orient yourself after rushing from one thing to another. So she asks me how I'm doing/feeling (she has a great bedside manner btw) and I say something along the lines of pretty good, bla bla bla, they're really kicking and moving in there now.
She's about to check on them with this heartbeat-movement-hearer-thing and says "and you're having twins right?"
I, of course, handle this like a grown up and freak-the-f*ck-out. Because OMG, twins? Dr soc and I are in shock stammering emphatic nos and that all our ultrasounds have found only baby in my tummy.
My doctor by this point is laughing and remembers that no, it is just one baby, but she wonders why she thought twins (once again, OMG) for a minute there. I say it was probably due to me saying they since we don't know the sex of the baby and I don't want to say it, so it's my fault for the confusion.

But ok, I have got to stop referring to baby as "they" from now on. I'm confusing my doctor, who I hope to god knows a lot more than me and doesn't need to be confused.
They kicked in agreement.
Dammit!

Shapes

Currently I'm growing a human. So my figure is changing.
Dr Soc is training for a half-marathon in October. So his figure is changing too.

Dr soc~excitedly~: My (hip bone) lines are coming back!
me~less than thrilled~: Yeah, mine aren't.

Belly Button

I don't know if your belly button popping out is one of those happens to everyone pregnancy things. I've got a notion that it'll happen to me though. I've noticed that as my tummy has been getting bigger my normal innie belly button has started to become...shallower.
But right now I still have an innie. Sorta. And by sorta I mean it's still a little concave in some parts. It's not full outie, and maybe it will stay the way it is now... So I guess right now it's a...flatie?

Spoiler Alert

Before I was even pregnant dr soc and I knew we wanted to be surprised on the sex of the baby. You would think that my penchant for spoilers and Mike's loathe of them would lead to an impasse, but we actually completely agree on this. And while not everyone wants to wait to find out (not going to name names, mother-in-law) and we don't give a hoot what other parents-to-be want to do, we're pleased as punch to wait for our baby. 

However the rest of the baby stuff world doesn't make our choice the easiest. I was looking for clothes for my little one when they arrive and I came to the conclusion our poor little turkey* is going to be naked. In the winter! My poor cold naked baby! 

*sorry honey, the name just stuck 

Feel better

I've heard that morning sickness/nausea is a good sign of a healthy pregnancy.
At least that's what I told my friends who were suffering through pregnancy nausea. Yeah. Now that I've dealt with it, (and fingers crossed -god please fingers crossed! DONE with it) I'm pretty that's just something people say to make you "feel better."
Ugh.

Bad Dog

Dr soc told me he was going for a jog this morning before my doctor's appointment while I was still in bed sleeping in a little bit (omg with the pregnancy tired). Shortly after that I heard a rustling/crinkling noise coming from downstairs, but my concept of time was so off I just assumed he hadn't left yet and was making a lot of noise in the kitchen for some reason. Turns out, it was not dr soc, it was Jules.

That little dog went into my purse, ignored the peanut butter crackers and ate about a 1/4-1/2 cup of salted almonds. I called the vet and she'll be fine, but damit dog those almonds were my best pregnancy snack! Then Mike noticed a paw print on the couch table, and he said he had thrown a different wrapper in the trash yesterday but he didn't know what it was from. Upon closer inspection of the destroyed bag and crumbs, I realized she had eaten a huge peanut butter cookie. Probably about the same time Mike was mowing the lawn and I wasn't home from work yet.  

That little bitch figured out when her free range time. Yeah, we're not leaving her unattended anymore...

Grown Up

There are several signs that point to being a grown up. Some of the ones I have experienced are:

• I am willing to pay for convenience rather than find the cheapest option possible.
• I have nice cookware and know how to use all my kitchen appliances.  
• Guests stay in my guest room with a real bed and don't crash on the couch anymore. 
• Eleven o'clock is when I want to be home from a night out, not when I start my night out.     
• I will leave a place when it is "too loud."
• My grocery list consists of real food and is not entirely made up of cheap wine.
• I prefer to be addressed as ma'am. 
• I have no idea who is "singing" on the radio, and I'm not going to bother to find out either.
• I have my 20-something coworkers explain slag terms and current social media to me. 

But I think the biggest grown up significance of being a grown up is:
When I tell people I'm going to have a baby around Thanksgiving (yep!) the response is: Congratulations!