The Chop is requiring I post the following:

My husband thinks I’m lame because I didn’t post this the minute after I watched it:

Yesterday marked 35 weeks of pregnancy for me — 35 long, slow, hot weeks, lol. I had an ultrasound on Monday and he is now 6lbs 7oz (+/- 17 oz, so who the hell knows) and today at my other appointment I measured 2 full weeks bigger. Kill me now.

My parents have been here the past couple of days, and my basement? Still not done. Although I am heading downstairs now to see exactly how much more time will be needed. We are at 20 days (including two Saturdays) and I am more than ready for the process to be over.

Sadly they spotted a leak that’s coming from a small crack in a tile in my upstairs bathroom… which means I will now have to have them come back to look into the wall and see if I have mold and to fix the crack. The baby and I are very highly annoyed.

My dad is going to a rally in DC tomorrow — he’s so excited it’s kinda sad. Initially my mom said it was rude coming here, then going down there, but we’ve decided he’s too much of a handful, so sure, take a bus down 8 hours, go to a Glenn Beck rally with Sarah Palin (I know, I know, our politics are soooo polar opposite) and then take a bus back 8 hours. Have fun! We’ll be here chilling. Heading to dinner. Eating ice cream. Definitely not riding on a bus for 8 hours with a bunch of gun-toting crazy people :P

I realize everyone says kids are expensive, but seriously, until you are preparing to bring a baby into this world, you really don’t realize the extent of that expense. As in strollers that cost hundreds of dollars, plus a car seat, then a bassinet… oh but also a crib, other nursery furniture, special nail clippers, soap, diapers, diaper wipes, sheets, bumpers (for the crib), baby monitor, clothes, booties, hats, and yes, the list goes on. Now just imagine that after you’ve had the baby for oh, 7-10 months, you have to buy most of this stuff all over again! Apparently peanut grows out of things quickly, lol.

Peanut, sadly, is still unnamed. We’ve fortunately knocked one of the list permanently, but that still keeps us at three. Sigh. Person naming is very disconcerting.

The Chop and I explored our basement yesterday (sadly, laundry is the gift that keeps on giving), and so far it’s coming along. They jackhammered the rest of the laundry room/bathroom tile out, which is good, but managed to leave little tiny pieces of tile embedded in the ceiling, which is not good. The Chop assures me they will clean that off (along with the inch of dust)—but he figures if they don’t, we know my mom will when she comes to visit in three weeks lol.

Today I had a meeting that lasted from 915AM to 415PM. Seven hours in one room with two, sometimes three people, where we attempted to compile accurate lists of their products on their website. It was excruciating.

The worst part was that we were in a closed room—meaning the temperature did not come down from around 79 all day. And we sat virtually the entire time. So not only was I boiling, but the baby crawled his way up to my ribs and decided to stay there kicking for seven hours.

Tomorrow the final step in the basement process begins and oy, I am not looking forward to having “company” every day for two weeks. Especially considering the 90 degree temps they are forecasting. I cleaned Sunday, then did a little bit of weeding and spent all of Monday in pain—hello back and abdominal muscles. Do I need to use you all to clean? Apparently, yes.

Monday I went in for another ultrasound — does everyone get these many these days? I honestly don’t know. I feel like I’m in for one like clockwork every few weeks. It’s fun, but messy and by the time I get home I just want to lie down.

The Peanut is now 4lbs, 3oz — gaining at a rate of about 1 lb every two weeks. Which, yeah, means if I go to term, hello 8 lb baby. Pro: sleeps through the night sooner, lower risk of SIDS; Con: OMFG PAIN. He is still incredibly active, meaning some days my stomach is excruciatingly sore and I hold ice packs to my ribs—during the ultrasound he yawned, hiccuped and then proceeded to beat me with his tiny fists and feet. “Ooo,” said the tech, “he’s SO active.”

Uh yeah. Welcome to my world. It’s hot (over 90 degrees again today, just kill me already), I’m repeatedly getting beat up and I’m having to get up twice a night to pee. Tomorrow marks 31 weeks. Let’s go team baby!

Very cute profile — I think he has my nose.

Front face shot — much less like Gollum.

And per my sister who has been requesting this picture for months, my giant ever-expanding belly.

Every since we had the nasty rains in March, our basement has been disaster zone numero uno. We had it dried out rather quickly (10 days worth of fans), but picking a company to due prevention AND picking a company to finish it again was a pain in the ass. Fortunately, the drains and new pumps are in and now it’s just a matter of having it turned back into the space it was. That starts in a week and a half and today we spent part of the morning visiting tile stores and trying to envision 1000 sq ft of finished space.

Initially I planned to buy the tile online, which seemed like a fabulous idea… until they wanted to charge $700 for delivery. Oy. So now we’re buying it local, which will cost a touch more per sq ft, but less than if we had to pay an extra $700 for shipping.

The worst part is I’m due in less than two months and it’s not done yet. They tell us it’ll take two weeks, and they can start in the first week of August (awesome, I can’t wait to have people walking around when it’s this freaking hot and all I want to do is where boxers and a tank top), but we can’t move the basement stuff downstairs until it’s over… and so the nursery is full of boxes. And cats. Argh.

I’m itching to finish the nursery and wash and put away all the cute stuff we have—perhaps I’m nesting, but I think it’s just because I like to plan. Not having stuff done makes me slightly anxious, especially because babies do not have the best record for timing.

We’re in day four of the second heat wave of the past month and I want to die. Being pregnant in the summer is quite possibly the worst time—especially if you don’t have central a/c and you work with a laptop (hello heat wave on the legs).

Thursday marks 30 weeks of being pregnant, and the past couple of been my least favorite. I passed the first glucose test, but just barely, so they made me take it again. Some BS about my liver and blah blah and the next thing you know I’m sitting in a hospital for 3.5 hours, getting my blood drawn every hour. This, after fasting since the night before and swigging 100 ML of the nastiest orange drink known to man. Friday was a rough day.

Our last ultrasound was about a week and a half ago (I know, I know, I’m behind), and I’ve decided my baby looks like Gollum:

The tech helpfully took a picture of his foot, too, seeing as how it’s permanently affixed to the underside of my ribs:

They tell me the kicking is a good sign that he might come early, and honestly, it is my one desire. Four weeks early kid, you can do it!

Yet another fun aspect of pregnancy? Pregnancy brain. (And yes, that is the technical term for it.) Basically the brain swells a bit when you are pregnant and certain aspects, namely memory, become hampered. Fortunately it goes away once the baby is born, but for now, I’m stuck with a worse-than-usual short-term memory (ie, I literally have to right everything down from a 10 minute meeting or I forget everything from the first 5 minutes) and an odd habit of just forgetting words in the middle of sentences.

The Chop thinks this is awesome. Particularly today when I said, “yippity do da doo bird,” or something along those lines. Basically I make no sense. It’s highly irritating to me, but highly entertaining to those I work and live with—yet another aspect of pregnancy that they don’t tell you occurs.

When we were in Provincetown I went and got a pedicure at a local salon, where two early-20-year-olds were working. They ooh’d and aah’d about my stomach, felt the baby kick and we discussed all the stuff that nobody mentions about pregnancy…

Your feet hurt, your back hurts, your stomach hurts, you can’t get up by yourself, putting on pants is painful, you don’t sleep well (or at all), it’s freaking hot, you get random heartburn FOR NO REASON (even if you just drink water), your feet swell if you’re on them too much, you can’t shave your legs comfortably, you run into things constantly and, oh yeah, sex becomes a logistical nightmare.

Happy Fourth of July!

Today it is 87 degrees, well on it’s way to being way-too-fucking-hot-to-live, and so the Chop is celebrating Father’s Day by sitting on the couch in front of the air conditioner. It’s supposed to be high 80s all week, which really sucks when you’re pregnant.

The Peanut has gotten very good at kicking regularly now, and slowly but surely, my belly button is getting shallower—which is really bizarre. I read an article the other day about how, yes, a lot of women love pregnancy, but a lot of women really hate it. It’s uncomfortable, painful, hot and irritating—and yeah, I think I fall into group B. Pregnancy? Not my favorite thing. I’m looking forward to having a baby, but the nine months wait time is a pain in the freaking ass.

An old friend of ours recently had a pre-eclampsia event that resulted in her delivering by C-section right around 29 weeks (she was four weeks farther along than me). The baby is doing great, no longer intubated I believe and now that he’s a week old, about 2 lbs. I know it’s stressful for them, but part of me thinks, hmm, early delivery might not be so bad.

My goal is 35 weeks—the doctors have discussed inducing me a bit early depending on my liver—which means I have 10 weeks to go. 10 of the hottest weeks of the summer, sigh, 10 weeks where I have to ideally finish four major projects. Ugh.

One of the worst things about moving one year and getting pregnant the next? Cravings.

In college I became addicted to nime chow, an Asian soft roll, with shrimp, bean sprouts, etc., and the most amazing vinegar-type sauce with peanuts. Sadly the only two restaurants that I’ve ever found who carry it… an hour+ away. Fortunately there’s a branch of one of those restaurants about 30 minutes away, but after a day of working, 30 minutes seems like forever.

Then there’s two of our favorite restaurants in Newport, both eclectic, one with more Mexican flavors—the best fish tacos of all time. Chop’s mom was in town last weekend, so after a lighthouse tour on a boat (surprisingly, I did not get sick—go baby), we ended up over there, Chop in tears as he ate some incredibly hot jalapenos.

My goal every weekend is to convince Chop that going south for dinner (or lunch), is a great idea. I’ve only succeeded once, lol. An hour and a half, he says, for dinner? I guess if you really want, but let’s get all this done first. Stuff which ends up taking most of the day and by 4PM, I’m ready for a nap.

Word to the wise, don’t move and get pregnant right away. You will be sooo sorry, lol.