Evie's worn pull-ups to bed since completing her potty-training this time last year. I haven't been in a rush at all to "hurry her along" to giving up the training pull-ups considering I was a bed-wetter after her age. Why rush such things? Might as well wait until her bladder was ready.
We've had many dry pull-ups in the last 6 months but the past 2 months we've been really seeing many dry nights. We told her we needed 5 nights in a row. So... this past week she did it!
Yesterday we made up a fresh bed with a special pee-pee guard atop the sheets. Evie got to pick out any panties and nightgown she wanted. We then went to bed after not drinking anything for the hour leading up to bedtime.
This morning - yeah! She not only slept in until 8 AM (therefore, we ALL slept in until 8AM, A-W-E-S-O-M-E!).... but she was nice and dry!
We're prepared for slip-ups and steps backward.... but night 1 resulting in a dry night... is a big step in this BIG girl's life!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Eve-ism: Commercials
Evie's generation doesn't understand having to wait for shows to come on TV. Or understand that if you don't watch an episode when its on... you don't know when you'll ever catch it playing again. And, even know what commercials are!
Thanks to DVR... we've cut out all the stuff we don't like about TV and Evie has no appreciation for it at all.
Tonight, while watching yet ANOTHER EPISODE of Max and Ruby we have archived on the DVR, I hear her yelling from the couch, "Another Max and Ruby!" This is Evie's way of saying, "What is this crap on TV cutting into my program... and better yet... resolve this!"
I yell back, "Evie. Its a commercial. Just wait a a minute. Your show will be back on."
She relents.
I walk back in to skip ahead the last 2 commercials for her.
Evie pouts a little and puts her hands out in front of her in a reasoning motion, "These commercials don't understand that I'm watching my show!"
Indeed, Evie, Indeed.
Thanks to DVR... we've cut out all the stuff we don't like about TV and Evie has no appreciation for it at all.
Tonight, while watching yet ANOTHER EPISODE of Max and Ruby we have archived on the DVR, I hear her yelling from the couch, "Another Max and Ruby!" This is Evie's way of saying, "What is this crap on TV cutting into my program... and better yet... resolve this!"
I yell back, "Evie. Its a commercial. Just wait a a minute. Your show will be back on."
She relents.
I walk back in to skip ahead the last 2 commercials for her.
Evie pouts a little and puts her hands out in front of her in a reasoning motion, "These commercials don't understand that I'm watching my show!"
Indeed, Evie, Indeed.
Repurposed
Thanks to my mother who not only taught me how to paint and do things for myself... but who also never had the balls to pull-off painting something this bold a color to make my little girl dreams come true.
Evie nearly pee'd her pants with joy last night when I just showed her the swatch of color. Tonight I might need to put down towels for when I reveal the finished product.;-)
Bought this very beat-up dresser (and oddly too-tall nightstand) on Craigslist the other night.... both for $55. The dresser will stay in Schwally's room since it's way too tall for Evie's room as originally planned. It will hopefully serve me well when I need a place to put a drink when I rock him back to sleep...
**UPDATE**
I walked Evie into Schwally's (what she named her future little brother) room to see the pink dresser. At first she was silent and then she looked amazed, "Wow!" she whispered to herself. Then, a frown.
"What's wrong?"
"I wanted a pink dresser....." she grumbled.
She thought it was Schwally's, hilarious!
3D is Both Educational... And Creepy
I thought I wanted to see & know this... on second thought, I don't.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
PHOTO: 32weeks
Went to the doctor for a check-up yesterday. This appointment was just 2 weeks later than my last one (the one where I found out I gained 6lbs in just 3 weeks, mmm-yeah, that one). The appointment was not only a routine check-up but also... an ultrasound! Yes, due to some results from my blood work taken around 12 weeks... the doctor wanted to ensure Jr was growing OK (the blood work basically revealed that I could experience a slowdown in the end).
I'll post some updated ultrasound photos in another post... but everything looked good. The lab tech guessed he's at 4.5lbs right now (he's on track to be about the same size as his sister who has 7lbs5oz when born at 39 weeks). She also confirmed, again, that Jr is a boy... God did this woman love the term and sight of a "scrotum." And he is currently head down pulling on his toes.
:-)
I gained 1lb in 2 weeks, thank goodness. If I continued on a 2lb-a-week path then I'd be a heifer by the time this kid got here. Overall, I think I'm at 22-23lbs for this pregnancy... I'm OK with that.
In other slightly related news - everyone - and I do mean EVERYONE (complete strangers, even!) guesses that I'm carrying a boy. Do I look that different than I did with Evie? You be the judge...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Too popular of an excuse...
Putting Evie to bed last night.
It was my turn to brush teeth and read stories since dad gave her a bath.
Lately, its been getting to be a real challenge curling up into bed with Evie to read a book.... what with me getting big and her bed being squishy & low to the floor. I must use this excuse a lot cause it ended up as a potential reason for yet another thing mommy does/does not do:
Me: "Here, let's read these books."
Evie: "I want to read 'Summer Vacation'."
Me: "I'm not reading that one again, I just read it."
Evie:"Why? *pause* Why don't you want to read it?"
Me: "I told you."
Evie: "Why, mommy?"
Me: "'Cause its late. We're going to read these books."
Evie continues with her non-sensical question asking... cause that's what she does lately.
Me: "'Cause I'm lazy, that's why."
Evie: "Um, mommy? Are you lazy cause you're pregnant?"
I bust out laughing. I laughed so hard that Evie immediately clapped both hands against her face as if she were hiding from the punchline she just delivered. She wasn't immediately sure if I was happy or mad but figured it out soon thereafter... and began to laugh along.
It was my turn to brush teeth and read stories since dad gave her a bath.
Lately, its been getting to be a real challenge curling up into bed with Evie to read a book.... what with me getting big and her bed being squishy & low to the floor. I must use this excuse a lot cause it ended up as a potential reason for yet another thing mommy does/does not do:
Me: "Here, let's read these books."
Evie: "I want to read 'Summer Vacation'."
Me: "I'm not reading that one again, I just read it."
Evie:"Why? *pause* Why don't you want to read it?"
Me: "I told you."
Evie: "Why, mommy?"
Me: "'Cause its late. We're going to read these books."
Evie continues with her non-sensical question asking... cause that's what she does lately.
Me: "'Cause I'm lazy, that's why."
Evie: "Um, mommy? Are you lazy cause you're pregnant?"
I bust out laughing. I laughed so hard that Evie immediately clapped both hands against her face as if she were hiding from the punchline she just delivered. She wasn't immediately sure if I was happy or mad but figured it out soon thereafter... and began to laugh along.
Monday, March 21, 2011
nose picker
As I am walking up my parents staircase... hand on handrail...
I look at one of the white banisters and see what looks like a dried glob... a booger.
Disgusting.
Me, "Um, ...mom? I think Evie might have wiped a nasty boogie on your staircase here. I'll clean it up."
My mother, "Yes, she told me she did that."
We both exchange looks of disgust and no surprise.
Rob had recently told me Evie wiped an amazing masterpiece on the couch after she announced she had one on her finger. He mistakingly told her to "get rid of it," thinking his implication to 'lean forward and grab a kleenex' was a concept she was familiar with. It wasn't. Wiping it on the seat next to her, sadly, was a more obvious solution.
Fast forward to our car ride home from my mom/dad's house.
From the backseat, "Mom."
"Yeah?" (not looking).
"I got a boogie."
I turn around. Evie has a one-finger solute.
"Ugh, Evie!"
"I need a tissue. I need a tissue to put this boogie."
Well, at least she is solving half the problem... the final destination is the most part of this nose picking problem. Gross!
I look at one of the white banisters and see what looks like a dried glob... a booger.
Disgusting.
Me, "Um, ...mom? I think Evie might have wiped a nasty boogie on your staircase here. I'll clean it up."
My mother, "Yes, she told me she did that."
We both exchange looks of disgust and no surprise.
Rob had recently told me Evie wiped an amazing masterpiece on the couch after she announced she had one on her finger. He mistakingly told her to "get rid of it," thinking his implication to 'lean forward and grab a kleenex' was a concept she was familiar with. It wasn't. Wiping it on the seat next to her, sadly, was a more obvious solution.
Fast forward to our car ride home from my mom/dad's house.
From the backseat, "Mom."
"Yeah?" (not looking).
"I got a boogie."
I turn around. Evie has a one-finger solute.
"Ugh, Evie!"
"I need a tissue. I need a tissue to put this boogie."
Well, at least she is solving half the problem... the final destination is the most part of this nose picking problem. Gross!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
And then people wonder "why?"....
While visiting my parents this weekend (a trip that took a damned miracle to pull-off considering the 41-hour-work-week I put in the week leading up to it... a 41-hour-work-week and counting at the end of Thursday. We drove out Thursday night after working a full day and I was to work remotely the following Friday).
This is my last trip till baby. With 7-8 weeks to go... no more travel plans for me!
So here we are on Sunday morning and my mother hands me a sob story entitle "Jeanna Dies One Day After Giving Birth."
Are you eff'ing serious?
And then you people all wonder why my relationship with my mother is what it is.
Who DOES this???
This is my last trip till baby. With 7-8 weeks to go... no more travel plans for me!
So here we are on Sunday morning and my mother hands me a sob story entitle "Jeanna Dies One Day After Giving Birth."
Are you eff'ing serious?
And then you people all wonder why my relationship with my mother is what it is.
Who DOES this???
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
30 weeks
Well, today I am technically 29 weeks and 6 days... but lemme round up, ok people?
I was weighed in (can you believe they didn't need to use a system up pullies and straps to accomplish this???) at 6 pounds more than last time. Jesus. That's 6 lbs in 3 weeks. REALLY? Easy there, killer... at this rate (if I keep up at 2lbs per week) that'll put me at 40lbs total by the end, YIPE! I only gained 28lbs with Evie... this is ridiculous.
So, again, so far... I have gained about 21-22lbs overall in this pregnancy.
The good news is baby is measuring at 32 weeks. So, maybe some of my weight gain is his fault (let's blame the BABY, yeah!). Then again, I was measuring 28 weeks at 27 weeks... so who knows. My excuse is becoming just an excuse again.
Turns out the Doc wants me back in 2 weeks. Already with the 2 week visits, who-hoo! Final stretch, baby!
And, get this, he ordered an ultrasound! My bloodwork earlier on in this pregnancy revealed potential pitfalls with growth at the end. The baby could be at risk for growth restrictions... clearly NOT a problem so far... but I s'pose he's going to double-check. So, free pictures again! ... that is if he even fits within the viewing window. ;-)
I was weighed in (can you believe they didn't need to use a system up pullies and straps to accomplish this???) at 6 pounds more than last time. Jesus. That's 6 lbs in 3 weeks. REALLY? Easy there, killer... at this rate (if I keep up at 2lbs per week) that'll put me at 40lbs total by the end, YIPE! I only gained 28lbs with Evie... this is ridiculous.
So, again, so far... I have gained about 21-22lbs overall in this pregnancy.
The good news is baby is measuring at 32 weeks. So, maybe some of my weight gain is his fault (let's blame the BABY, yeah!). Then again, I was measuring 28 weeks at 27 weeks... so who knows. My excuse is becoming just an excuse again.
Turns out the Doc wants me back in 2 weeks. Already with the 2 week visits, who-hoo! Final stretch, baby!
And, get this, he ordered an ultrasound! My bloodwork earlier on in this pregnancy revealed potential pitfalls with growth at the end. The baby could be at risk for growth restrictions... clearly NOT a problem so far... but I s'pose he's going to double-check. So, free pictures again! ... that is if he even fits within the viewing window. ;-)
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Well, alright. I can survive the next 10-11 weeks afterall...
"Boys born to light drinkers had 40% fewer conduct problems, were 30% less likely to suffer hyperactivity, and received higher scores on tests of vocabulary and of ability to identify colors, shapes, letters and numbers than did those born to abstainers."
http://www2.potsdam.edu/hansondj/FetalAlcoholSyndrome.html
http://www2.potsdam.edu/hansondj/FetalAlcoholSyndrome.html
Saturday, February 26, 2011
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.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
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...
Monday, February 21, 2011
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!)
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!)
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
24 Weeks 2 Days : Photo
I finally went back and posted the 20week photo (as previously promised). Holy schitt, what a difference a month made (ok, and that 4 lbs I gained during my 23 week check-up helped). I knew I was bigger... but I'm realizing now that I'm closer to the end than I thought just moments before comparing these! Ok, OK, ... yes, technically... I have a long way to go... but man, I'm really pregnant.
Sometimes you forget. :-/
Monday, January 24, 2011
For the Love of Shoes
Shopping at Old Navy this past Saturday AM (50% off all clearance + 25% off for card holders = WIN!)
Evie spied the jelly shoes again this year (she desperately wanted them last year and I never gave in.
I have agreed to give in IF we can find ones that are like sandals... these mary jane styles will just result in sweaty feet & possible falls.
"Look!" Evie feverishly points to the translucent purple shoes hanging.
"Yes, I know. Jelly shoes."
"Can we eat them?!."
*pause*
"No, Evie... not gummy shoes. Besides, that would be gross, dontcha think?"
Evie sat down next to display rack and proceeded to try on one of each color.
Ah, my little Imelda Marcos.
Evie spied the jelly shoes again this year (she desperately wanted them last year and I never gave in.
I have agreed to give in IF we can find ones that are like sandals... these mary jane styles will just result in sweaty feet & possible falls.
"Look!" Evie feverishly points to the translucent purple shoes hanging.
"Yes, I know. Jelly shoes."
"Can we eat them?!."
*pause*
"No, Evie... not gummy shoes. Besides, that would be gross, dontcha think?"
Evie sat down next to display rack and proceeded to try on one of each color.
Ah, my little Imelda Marcos.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Evie goes to the dentist
Evie's first visit was in the summer when she turned 3. Rob took her in and it was more of a "meet your dentist" type of visit where she got familiarized with the lay-out, the chair, what the light looks like shining down on her smile. There was no real cleaning or anything going on at this visit. From what I heard from Rob's reports... she wouldn't open her mouth and was rather quiet with a little bit of "frigid" mixed in.
Fast forward to 6 months later.... check up at 3.5 years old.
Evie was prepped last night when I told her what to expect at the dentist. I told her they don't have a sink to spit in but rather a magic wand that sucks the spit out of your mouth. I told her they'd brush her teeth, make her smile and it would all be pretty much the same as at home.
Rob picked her up from school early... she apparently was cheering the fact that she was "going to the dentist! I'm going to the dentist!"
(Who is this kid?)
Evie apparently had no problems opening her mouth this time and they polished her teeth with the electric brush. (Evie cupped my cheek in her hand when she got home tonight and whispered, "I got the cherry [toothpaste].")
This kid cracks me up. She marched on into the house with her goodie bag, "Wanna see what I got?" She proudly displayed a mini toothpaste, sparkly purple Snow White toothbrush, a pink bracelet and an elephant sticker. What a haul! Its almost like Halloween.
Almost. ;-)
23 Weeks
OK, well, I will be tomorrow.
Went to the doctor for my check-up this morning.
I've gained 4lbs since last visit (ack, 4 lbs in 4 weeks?!.) and I am measuring at 25 weeks.
Damned.
I did take pictures of the belly just over 20 weeks (around Christmas) that I have yet to post. I may just wait till next week's "week 24" photo and post 'em together. Stay tuned....
Went to the doctor for my check-up this morning.
I've gained 4lbs since last visit (ack, 4 lbs in 4 weeks?!.) and I am measuring at 25 weeks.
Damned.
I did take pictures of the belly just over 20 weeks (around Christmas) that I have yet to post. I may just wait till next week's "week 24" photo and post 'em together. Stay tuned....
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tonight we learned the word "short-cut."
Calling Evie to the bathroom to brush her teeth... I hear her scattering about calling back, "I'm coming!"
I sneak through the door in her bedroom which (ah, the fun design of an old house) leads to the pantry which then opens on the other side into the kitchen. She stops in the kitchen to ask me, "What? I was giving daddy a hug!"
I reply, "That's fine... just c'mon. Go through here and follow me to the bathroom."
Evie knows this path but doesn't use it often. She looks at me temporarily confused.
"C'mon," I coax,"Its a short-cute."
"What?"
"C'mon. Short-cut, let's go!"
"Now? A short-cut?" she asks.
"Yeah, now, we gotta brush your teeth."
I push Evie into the bathroom and slide over her step-stool. Instead of getting up on it under the sink, she sits down.
"C'mon Evie!" I think she is stalling or being silly,"We are brushing teeth, get up!"
"What? Oh. I thought you were doing a short-cut."
I pause.
I think.
"A haircut?!." I ask (she's only had me trim her hair twice and she only remembers the one recent time).
"Yeah!"
Too funny.
I sneak through the door in her bedroom which (ah, the fun design of an old house) leads to the pantry which then opens on the other side into the kitchen. She stops in the kitchen to ask me, "What? I was giving daddy a hug!"
I reply, "That's fine... just c'mon. Go through here and follow me to the bathroom."
Evie knows this path but doesn't use it often. She looks at me temporarily confused.
"C'mon," I coax,"Its a short-cute."
"What?"
"C'mon. Short-cut, let's go!"
"Now? A short-cut?" she asks.
"Yeah, now, we gotta brush your teeth."
I push Evie into the bathroom and slide over her step-stool. Instead of getting up on it under the sink, she sits down.
"C'mon Evie!" I think she is stalling or being silly,"We are brushing teeth, get up!"
"What? Oh. I thought you were doing a short-cut."
I pause.
I think.
"A haircut?!." I ask (she's only had me trim her hair twice and she only remembers the one recent time).
"Yeah!"
Too funny.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Well, the scare tactics worked
Evie puts up a FIGHT to wear a nightgown to bed (and a dress to school, and so on and so on with everything girly).
Its freezing ass cold outside in the middle of January in the South where most places (including our home) lack proper insulation... so we argue endlessly when we have enough fight in us. Lately, we've been stressing that she wear PJs to bed at night so she doesn't get cold if she kicks off the covers.
We tell her, "You'll get cold."
"Will I get sick?" (this is a panic button for Evie 'cause all she ever thinks about with the word 'sick' is the time she threw up in the bed).
"Well, no. [I can't lie to her] But you'll get cold and you can get sick if you are cold all the time.... it doesn't help."
So, tonight Evie wants to wear a nightgown after putting up a tear-filled 20 minute meltdown last night over having to wear PJs.
I let her have this one with no fight, "Go pick one out," I say.
Evie enthusiastically grabs an ankle-length Hello Kitty nightgown (the key here is the length... she thinks prettier/Princess dresses are ankle-length).
Fast forward to completing the bedtime routine and out goes the light.
Not 5 minutes later, a panicked cry, "Mommy... Mommy! ... MOMMY!"
I walk quickly into her room, "What is it????"
Evie sits up in full sobs, "I don't wanna wear a nightgown! I don't wanna get cold. I want pajamas!"
Hmmm, I don't know if this is a victory or a sign Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome.
Its freezing ass cold outside in the middle of January in the South where most places (including our home) lack proper insulation... so we argue endlessly when we have enough fight in us. Lately, we've been stressing that she wear PJs to bed at night so she doesn't get cold if she kicks off the covers.
We tell her, "You'll get cold."
"Will I get sick?" (this is a panic button for Evie 'cause all she ever thinks about with the word 'sick' is the time she threw up in the bed).
"Well, no. [I can't lie to her] But you'll get cold and you can get sick if you are cold all the time.... it doesn't help."
So, tonight Evie wants to wear a nightgown after putting up a tear-filled 20 minute meltdown last night over having to wear PJs.
I let her have this one with no fight, "Go pick one out," I say.
Evie enthusiastically grabs an ankle-length Hello Kitty nightgown (the key here is the length... she thinks prettier/Princess dresses are ankle-length).
Fast forward to completing the bedtime routine and out goes the light.
Not 5 minutes later, a panicked cry, "Mommy... Mommy! ... MOMMY!"
I walk quickly into her room, "What is it????"
Evie sits up in full sobs, "I don't wanna wear a nightgown! I don't wanna get cold. I want pajamas!"
Hmmm, I don't know if this is a victory or a sign Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome.
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