PHOTO: 28wks2days

This photo doesn't look much different from the one posted at 24 weeks. Hmmm, I don't know how I feel about this. Yes, its the same shirt (and same colored pants) but my belly really doesn't loo any bigger to me. Maybe this is the part where it doesn't poke out so much as it starts to get more "solid" cause bending over, lately, has become more of an advanced skill than say a basic-level movement anyone can do. I have begun to utilize Evie's eagerness to pick-up things off the ground and even sent her to get things for mommy.

Yesterday morning I watched shows with Evie while Rob showered before taking her to school. I work from home on Fridays (which is particularly awesome given the recent phenomenon of getting a tightened stomach struggling in/out of my building with my two laptops... braxton hicks?).
I blew my nose and could tell... I have a bloody nose... again.
Ugh.
I ask Evie to grab the kleenex box on the coffee table and to please hand to mommy (not wanting to lean forward). It was quickly evident... this was more than I could keep up with. I sent her to Rob's office for the little trash can and to go get daddy out of the shower. Can you believe she picked-up the wads of tissue on the table with her thumb and index finger... gently... looked at me, "I don't want to get the blood," and then tossed them in the waste can before running off for Rob? This kid's gonna be an excellent helper with poopie diapers. Love. Her.
Drip-drip-drip... I leaned over the waste basket... am I going to need a transfusion?
I hear Evie explain, "Daddy, there's a problem. Mommy, um, mommy's nose has blood!"
Rob appears with a towel and is genuinely worried that I may be light headed. If anything this blood loss is making my body temperature return to normal... I have lots to spare.
One wet wash cloth and a total of 10 minutes later... all is right with the world.
Man, pregnancy is not a sexy state.

President's Day 3-Day Weekend: Off to Grandmother's House We Go!

Working in the financial industry has its perks... like getting President's Day off.
I took Evie with me to Lala and Pop-pop's house in North Carolina while leaving Rob with a rather lengthy (ambitious!) "honey-do" list.

We left on Saturday morning (3.5hr drive, typically) and rolled in around 1PM. We spent the day around the house... Evie did her best to wear out my mother. Thankfully, my mother was prepared and lapped it all up while I sought solice in the back bedroom.

On Sunday we used our Children's Museum Membership to visit the Greensboro Children's Museum. We took Lala with us. After 2 hrs (and then some) both Lala and mommy's brain's were completely over-stimulated and we dragged Evie home. Thankfully, Evie actually got a little tuckered out there so her leaving only involved me carrying her to the door while she whimpered. No tears. Phew!







Monday morning was a little boring for a preschooler while I packed and got ready to go. We stopped off for some Elizabeth's Pizza lunch before hitting the road home. A few movies in the car and one 45 minute nap later (her, not me), we were home by evening time.

Rob had completed all but 2 items on his list! The list was divided into sections. The top portion included items that needed to get done (relocating his office from what will be the baby's room to where it used to be a year ago in the front of the house). If he completed this top section of the list... I would speak to him. The middle portion of the list, if completed, would make me happy and meet my expectations. The bottom part of the list ( a bonus round, if you will...) would make me so elated that I'll deliver whatever he wanted. *wink* Ah, motivation is a wonderful thing...

I must do this...

Handprint canvas art set

Of course, I'll make my own. Would be so sweet to have one featuring Evie and baby brother's hands on the same canvas. Now, what color do I do (given the fact that harvest gold and avocado green were big colors when I was a baby... they didn't hold up very well through-out the years!)

Ginormous Bras and Big Girl Bloomers

Today was my 27 week (ok, technically 26wk 6days) check-up.
Today was my glucose tolerance test (test results by the week's end) and typical measurements were taken. I have gained about 15lbs so far, that's for my entire pregnancy... not just since my last check-up! I am measuring at 28 weeks.

So. I decided I should go out and *celebrate* my check-up with new bras and panties. Translation - BIGGER bras and panties.

I've begun retaining water in just the last week and have noticed rings around my legs where my socks were (ugh!). I also wake-up in the middle of the night with my underwear digging into my hips (ouch!). So, this trip was a necessary evil. I want to "support" everything (like the girls) so I can rebound from this pregnancy later on in the year ...with minimal lasting impact. I know the boobs will be less perky after a second pregnancy/nursing babe. I know my belly and ass will no longer bounce quarters (ok, they never did). But I do want to keep the nips from pointing southward when I'm 40, if at all possible.

So, on to... Target!
I grabbed a variety bra sizes (both cups and bust inches) and marched into the dressing room. Is it possible to leave a store with both a 26" and a 38"? Let's be clear - I wore a 36" before baby... but should technically be a 34" (I've been professionally measured). I buy a size too large to minimize that back fat appearance. Does it work, I have no idea. I also minimize the back fat appearance by having no double mirrors available anywhere in my house. What I can't see doesn't bother me.

But damned, standing in fluorescent, overhead lighting in a big-box retailer... bare boobs and belly exposed... thick elastic-waist band on pants wrapped around your girth... a girl just wants to die. I wasn't even "upset-sad" as I was "upset-mad". Ugh, its so hard to reach this point and to continue on. Pregnancy is this miracle that looks great on others (or in your own mind) but when its spotlighted like this... it really does a huge number on a girl's psyche. It actually motivates me to just go full-tilt and intentionally let myself go. Since I can't slow down this downhill decline... I might as well dress like shit and eat ice cream for breakfast, too, right? I mean, pregnancy IS when one can get away with such slovenes and label such behavior as being part of the baby-making process. Women "glow" at this time, right? I embody womanhood at this very point in time, right? I should take my womanhood and deep fry it, drizzle it with honey and cinnamon and get a big glass of chocolate milk to wash it down.
Where was I going with all this again?

OK, enough of that side-tacked tantrum.
Back to the big bras.
WTF? Why do bras, that are cup-size D, look like something I'd see on a "Playtex 18 hr bra" commercial? OK, I know I just talked about support and comfort up above, but Goddamn. Does everything have to go out the window? Can't a girl get something that doesn't have 3 hinges in the back (seriously? I feel like I'm holding down a Macy's Day Parade Float with this much hardware), shoulder straps that are not only 3/4" wide but PADDED, and extra fabric in between the cups which essentially looks like a cropped tank top. Geez, why not just wear a sports bra at this point? Yes, OK, these fuglies were all comfortable and, yes, probably look great under a white tshirt in a cold office (sidenote: who the hell buys a crisp white bra? That doesn't work under anything for any ethnicity... I'm just saying). BUT, I am still mentally stuck in college with lacy materials wrapped around my rib cage, dainty shoulder straps and a tiny bow holding the cups together in the middle. I KNOW they aren't practical but, they look cute and look great when you take off your workday shirt. I feel like I'm wearing some sort of medical support with those other bras. And I already have rings around my calves from my knee-high socks, dimples in my ass that weren't there 3 months ago and flabbier arms than... oh hell,,, they flap when I reach for things! Can't I at least have a hot bra to cradle my nice, round boobs? Its really the only perk to being pregnant - swollen, round boobs. Let me celebrate just that little victory...

Speaking of big bras... ok, this is my last rant... why are all the big-girl bras on the bottom rack? And by bottom rack, I mean they hang 2" off the floor. I was losing my breath trying to bend over rummaging for my size. I nearly toppled over when I squatted for too long. I gave up and sat on the floor to finish digging and untangling the mess hidden deep within the racks. It was while I sat splayed out on the floor that I gazed up at the A's hanging freely on the top rack... practically blowing in the air conditioned breeze. They weren't in knots, they weren't tangled in a heap and they were easy to skim through... once again, tiny girls get everything. I think skinny girls with tiny boobs should be bending and the bigger gals (pregnant gals, older women... ) should get the top rack. Why make grandma bend... or fat preggos, like me, scoop to the floor*?
*This is the part of the blog where we all rise up and burn our bras in unity... but then again, it was hell finding these 2 bras so let's all just furrow our brows and chant "yes yes!" in unison.

So, panties. I bought Hanes string bikinis when I was pregnant with Evie. I then later went back and got one size larger... and bikini briefs. I actually saved these and busted them out a few months ago. Sad to say, I went to the store and bought (dear God, am I going to admit this for all to read???), *gulp*, XL bikini briefs. There. I said it. I actually bought the largest damned size they make. Well, the largest size that comes in a 6-pack and isn't hanging on a hanger, independently.
It was only after I got home that I realized these panties had a huge sticker boosting "100% Wedgie-Free Guaranteed" on the front. Sigh, eye roll. Thanks to my husband for pulling that sticker off and putting it on my pillow for a giggle. Last laugh is on him, no nookie for him as long as I feel like a sea-cow. ;-)

Well, that was my day. A day filled with reality and hopelessness in ever looking sexy again.
Ok, I do exaggerate. I know I'll bounce back, yada-yada. But I do also know I will never again be.. look... the same after baby #2 gets here. I will be OK with that. Its still hard to suck-it-up when you look back on pictures/mental images and think, "Geez, and WHY did I think I looked like hell back then? If I could look like that again... I'd wear skinny jeans!"
Ah, the mental roller-coaster that is inside every woman.
At least I have a husband who thinks I look fabulous at every stage in life... and sees me with a mind that ages along with me.
Then again, he might just want the nookie and is willing to say or do anything to get it.