35 weeks and growing

By popular demand, here is my 35 week belly shot. I am not sure where 5 more weeks of growth is going to fit. I feel like my skin is stretched to the limit and all of my organs (especially my bladder and stomach) have been reduced to the size of raisins in order to accomodate what I feel is a very large little girl inside me. Anyway, this is one is for Granny Faye and June...you can't say I am little now, can you?

My boys

After Sean so generously agreed to snap a belly shot of me, I was able to snap this super cute picture of my boys. Awwww!

Doctor Day

Yes, yes, I have been negligent in posting. I honestly, just haven't had much to say lately, or at least not much creativity in how to say it. But today we will play catch up on all the goings-on in our house.

Today was doctor day. I have really come to enjoy doctor day as it is an excuse to leave work a little early. Today's visit was particularly good, even though it was just a weigh and measure. I stepped on the scales with trepidation, only learn that I had lost 3 pounds. YaaaaHoooo!!! Okay, for those of you worry warts, this is completely acceptable. It means my belly has continued to grow, but the rest of me hasn't. The truth is that I took off my shoes this time, which probably accounts for a couple of pounds; although I like to think it had more to do with eating a lot more fruit and a little less ice cream. Come on, humor me.

My doctor also brought up the idea of inducing me near my due date. Call me naive, but I love this idea. No surprises (provided Liv doesn't plan to make an early exit). This will give me a chance to plan. If you know me at all, you know that spontaneity is not a characteristic I possess. I like to plan, organize, make lists, charts, etc. And what better event to plan than this. I can make my departure from work a reality to my supervisors, who seem to turn the other way every time I bring up the fact that I will be GONE in 5 (plus/minus) weeks (more about this later). Also, my mom and anyone else who plans to be at the hospital will have advance warning. Believe me, my mom is so worried that she is going to miss this, she already has a bag packed and is keeping a full tank of gas in her car. And lastly, I will get to choose my doctor. The OB group that I use has an on-call system. So even though I have been seeing the same doctor all along (and love her), I am not guaranteed to have her deliver my baby. It all depends on which doctor is on-call when I go into labor—unless I am induced because we will schedule it when Dr. Hooi (pronounced Hooey) is on-call.

So you see, induction solves everything. Now let's just hope that Liv is more like her momma—a planner—than her papa, who sees no point in planning ANYTHING.

A new Duckling has arrived!

My friend Carrie had her baby on Wednesday (exactly one week after her due date). This is her second baby girl in less than two years, and you could not find more beautiful children. (Check out her website to see more photos.) Carrie, for good or bad, is my pregnancy/labor/birth "advisor." By "advisor" I mean the person that gives me the dirt, the truth, the THINGS I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR. Of course, these are things I need to hear (I guess), but I would prefer not to hear stories about suction vacuums in the delivery room.


Carrie and Elle

Audrey & Stanley meet a munchkin

My friend Erika is so generous that she let me use her son Andrew (age 2) as a guinea pig this weekend. Last week, Erika told me that Andrew loves dogs--the bigger and scary they are, the more he likes them. Boy would he love our dogs, I thought.

I have been very curious about how Audrey and Stanley will react to a baby, so I asked Erika and Andrew over on Sunday. Now mind you, Erika is not a dog person, AT ALL. And Aud and Stan are not the best behaved dogs in the world (probably an understatement). So I knew this would be an interesting visit.

Turns out that the love was mutual, only Aud and Stan displayed their love in a, let's say, more exuberant way. The good news, Andrew left with all limbs attached, and everyone enjoyed the visit.

A Reply to Grumpa Tom

Several non-pregnant members of my family are engaged in a weight loss contest (lots of $$$ at stake). Sean and his dad are neck-in-neck and their competitive fangs are showing. (For those of you who do not know, since becoming a grandfather, we refer to Sean's dad as Grumpa Tom. If you don't know why we call him Grumpa instead of Grampa, you obviously haven't met him. It is, of course, a term of affection.)

So Grumpa Tom left a comment on my last post. I found it necessary to reply, but rather than simply making a comment myself, I decided to make a whole new post in case the rest of you have not been reading the comments.

His comment was as follows:

"Good morning from So. Cal., on a dull Thursday, following a 5-day sojourn to Myrtle Beach wherein, I and three friends, played 108 holes of golf, and revelled in great food and plentiful beverages. And the best part of the mini-vacation, was to learn this morning that I had yet lost another 1/2 pound - are the Golf gods good or what? Happy Thursday ...Grumpa Tom"

My reply:

Good afternoon from Austin, Texas, on sunny Thursday, following a full work week that sucks just like every other. I and the ever growing child in my belly spent the week binging on watermelon, tacos, pizza, and more watermelon. The only plentiful beverage I have enjoyed in 8 months is water. Yum. And the best part of this alien abduction called pregnancy was to learn that I have gained another 3 pounds, my belly button is starting to protrude, and there is not a darned thing anyone can say about it. Are the pregnancy gods good or what?

The kindness of strangers. . .

I was the victim of a random act of kindness last night. Sean and I made our second trip to the grocery store for the week (and yes, it was only Tuesday). As we were perusing the ice cream section, I noticed a woman with a two-year boy in the shopping cart. Actually, it was impossible not to notice them because the child was screaming “I want ice cream! I want ice cream!” and the mother was pretty much ignoring him while she hunkered over the diet ice cream bars struggling to make a decision. “Just pick one because they all suck,” I thought.

Unfortunately, Sean was awaiting his turn at the diet cooler. I, of course, had no trouble picking out my Blue Bell Dos Amigos half-gallon as Blue Bell was thoughtful enough to make the carton for Dos Amigos bright blue when all of the other cartons are beige. I can spot it as soon as I turn down the frozen food aisle, like the mother ship beckoning me home. But, I digress. (If you are unfamiliar with my love of ice cream, you might want to revisit “A Tribute to Ice Cream.”)

So once this woman gets out of Sean’s way, he takes his turn with the diet cooler. As I am examining the other side of the frozen aisle trying to determine if there is anything remotely appetizing, the following exchange occurs between me and the woman with the ice-cream-starved kid:

She catches a glimpse of my belly and begins to laugh. Yes, laugh. I snap my head around ready to either give her a piece of my mind or break into tears (I often cannot tell which reaction is pending.)

But then she says, “Well, you can eat all the ice cream you want.”

“And I get the good stuff,” I reply.

“Just don’t be like me,” she advises. “I ate all the ice cream I wanted, and now two years later, I still can’t get this weight off.”

(Did I mention that she was a little on the heavy side?)

“I hope I don’t have that problem,” I say, with a fleeting feeling that maybe I should put the Dos Amigos back with its other amigos.

And then, the kindest words ever spoken came from her mouth: “Oh, but you don’t have to worry. YOU ARE TINY.”

That’s right TINY. She called me TINY.

My face lit up, and I felt compelled to hug this stranger right there next to the Skinny Cows. I refrained, of course, and simply said “thank you” as I skipped my way to the produce section. All the way home, I reminded Sean that she called me TINY. I am pretty sure he chuckled every time.

Lots of gifts, but no "goodies"

For those of you who were wondering, my shower on Saturday was great, but there were no strippers. Turns out strippers are frowned upon for pregnant women (something about being a mother, a good role model, etc. etc.). We had lots of fun anyway, and I got lots of great gifts. Each person brought a children's book so now Liv has a nice library started. I can't wait to start reading her bedtime stories!

By the way, I don't think I will allow anymore photos of myself to be taken until delivery day. It is depressing how fat I look, and it doesn't help that all of my friends are way too skinny!


Believe it or not this is the most "normal" photo of me. Apparently, I am quite expressive when opening presents.

Happy Monday!

Happy Monday? Now that’s an oxymoron if I have ever heard one. I hate Mondays (and Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and Fridays until 5 p.m.). Sean has diagnosed me with Sunday Night Blues (“SNB”). Every Sunday around 5 p.m., I get real grouchy. The first few times, Sean would ask what was wrong. Now, he just knows: SNB. We don’t even speak of it anymore; it is just understood.

I suspect that SNB affects a large percentage of the American population. (I mean who really looks forward to going to work after only two days off.) And CBS has no idea that their potential viewers are so afflicted. I mean, if they knew, would 60 Minutes and Cold Case really be their big shows of the evening? I am sorry, but I do not need to solve any mysteries while wallowing in my misfortune (my misfortune, by the way, is that I am not independently wealthy and have yet to win the lottery (see cartoon below), thereby forcing me to haul my butt to work on Monday morning).

Fortunately, ABC is a little more on top of things. As soon I am almost incapacitated by SNB, I remember that I there are two shows on Sunday night that are sure to lift my spirits: Extreme Makeover Home Edition and Desperate Housewives. There is absolutely nothing intellectually stimulating about either show, and that’s the way I like it. Now granted, Makeover can be a little sad at times. It usually involves a family who has suffered great loss and is rewarded by getting a fabulous new house. So on occasion, I do feel slightly guilty for feeling sorry for myself when there are others who have it much worse. (I go to the kitchen for some ice cream during those times.) On Makeover, there is always a guarantee of seeing Ty without his shirt—a major mood lifter. Desperate Housewives is just pure mindless trashy fun. Just the cure for SNB! Thank you ABC.

I can imagine this happening to me!

End of the week ramblings

Is it ever going to end? I swear I feel like a walking zombie this week—so, so tired. I just keep telling myself that I only have 7 weeks to go, but somehow that does not help, considering everyone tells me that I will just be more tired once Liv actually arrives. To top it off, I think I picked up a stomach virus that is going around my office. It is just like the early days of morning sickness, except now I have a very strong alien punching me from the inside while I bend over the toliet. Talk about a double whammy!

We had our regular doctor’s visit on Tuesday, and everything is going fine. This was just one of the routine appointments where I get weighed and my belly gets measured (bizarre form of torture, in my opinion). I have gained 25 pounds, which sounds like A LOT to me. The doctor assures me that I am right on track. (On track to becoming a whale, I say.)

My friends/co-workers here in Austin are giving me a baby shower on Saturday. My friend Alison (who is also expecting) has been generous enough to volunteer her house for the occasion. She has promised that there will be strippers, but I am pretty sure she is just teasing. (Although, with my friends, you never know.) Sean’s big plans involve watching The Masters. I have been forewarned that NOTHING is to interfere with this event. I guess that means he had better get up early so he can take my car to get inspected.

My friend Carrie's due date came and went on Wednesday. It seems that her little Peanut has decided that life inside his/her mommy is better than life in Wisconsin. (No offense to my in-laws, but I may have to agree with him on that one.) Anyway, the crazy girl is planning a trip to the zoo this weekend. Hmmm, she's past her due date and thinks that walking around a stinky zoo for several hours is a good idea. I never thought I might actually get to use phrase "Maybe a dingo ate your baby," but this just might be my opportunity. (For the pop-culturally challenged, that is a Seinfeld reference.)

Okay, that is enough rambling for the day. Sorry I couldn’t come up with more interesting topics, but stay tuned.

Sisterly Love

This was one of those moments that makes a parent just want to cry. I awoke Saturday morning to this, a rare moment when Audrey actually shows that she loves her pesky brother. Now that is just cute, admit it.

Spring in Texas

Spring in Texas...there's nothing better! Perfect weather (75 degrees and sunny) and beautiful wildflowers (thank you Lady Bird). We made a trip to Round Top (about 1 hour east of Austin) on Saturday for Antique Weekend. My parents joined us, and we had lots of fun. Although I am pretty much useless when it comes to walking for long distances (and by long distances, I mean more than 2 blocks), I held my own and kept the complaining to a minimum (despite the sausage-looking appendages I used to call feet).

We went looking for a door to put between the family room and the living room (figuring we will need a way to separate the four-legged children from the two-legged child). The original homeowners added on the family room after the house was built, and I guess they didn’t think it mattered what size they made the opening because it is 40 inches wide. A standard door is 32 inches wide so just going to Home Depot and buying a door was not an option. Plus, we wanted an antique door with stained glass, but again size seemed to be a problem. Therefore, our solution was to buy a stained glass window and get my dad to build it into a door. I am very excited about this prospect and have already starting planning the replacement of all the doors in our house with custom-made doors with antique stained glass. (I guess we’d better see how this one turns out first.)

So anyway, it was another wonderful weekend here in Austin. Posted below are photos of some of the wildflowers we enjoyed on the drive and a “before” photo of the window we bought. I will be sure to post an “after” photo once my dad has completed his masterpiece.