I really thought I would have much more to say, being pregnant and all. Turns out, this has been pretty uneventful. And I'll take that. For now. But I promise you my birth story, will be WELL WORTH YOUR WAIT. In fact, I bet I could make a book out of my 'birth story'. It will be that good. And then when I move on to breastfeeding (cringe! oh the humanity something will have to suck the very life out of my breastesses) - there will be posts. You bet your tender cracked and bleeding nipples! Which by the way. My breasts are friggin rocking out the cash bar. Whatever that means. They really aught to be earning some income for this family.
Let us talk about food. Shall we? Bawk Bawk!
When I lived in Tallahassee many moons ago I was obessed with dining out at the following places for the following reasons:
Po'Boys - Brocolli and Cheese Poppers. With ranch. And on weekends for brunch I fancied the Bananas Foster over waffles with vanilla ice cream. Thank you very much.
Bagel Bagel - Virginia Melt. Deli ham piled on a baguette, topped with melted provolone cheese, cream cheese and served with BBQ sauce on the side. Boo-ya.
Hopkins Eatery - Chicken Tetrazzini. Cashew Chicken Salad over cold linguini over a bed of shredded lettuce with homemade Parmesan Italian dressing. Just shoot me.
There have been several moments in the last 16wks where I have thought of the money I would pay for any one of these items. If there is anyone reading here from Tallahassee...what do you imagine the delivery charge would be? $300? Hmm...tempting. Lets talk.
Anyway. All this brings me to a more realistic preggers food fantasy. The Bloomin' Onion. Thats right. The ol' Outback Steakhouse poster veggie. I could even do with the Chili's Awesome Blossom. Where else can you experience a WHOLE DAYS worth of caloric intake in ONE item? Just before I found out I was pregnant my dear friend (Wears Elastic Pants) and her son took me out to The Outback. Her son had been on a strict liquid diet that only allowed him one whole-food item a month - or some crazy shit - and this was his day. All he wanted was a steak, and the only place we could score one at 11am on a Sunday was Outback. Which was fine by me, because all I wanted was a Bloomin' Onion.
When we walked into the restuarant there were about 4 other diners which made sense once I noticed the Health Report at the hostess stand with a rating of 72. 72? I didn't think you could be operational at 72. I had never eaten at a 72 before. But who the hell cares when you are ordering a deep fried mutant onion served with mayonaise for lunch? Bring it.
So I'm REALLY ready for another. Any takers? I'm available Mon-Sundays 8am-8pm. And I'm not farting nearly as much as I used to. Promise.
What else what else...
I had an appointment last week and had some blood work done. All looks well with our little zen baby. Still haven't felt any movement - and I'm sure there will come a day when I'll wish it werent moving so much - so I'm being patient. I get twinges and little cramps on occasion, have trouble sleeping, pee about 8 times a night..blah blah blah boring boring who gives a shit no one cares when the old lady talks about her corns...no difference with a pregnant lady so i'll just stop right here.
We will find out the sex on April 30th. Vern and I have made and bought so much 'gender neutral' stuff we are running out of options. Which really begs the question - Hamburger or Hot Dog? This is crucial. The nursery is coming along nicely and hopefully I'll have some pictures to post soon. Zack and I are almost finished with the crib, we recently upholstered and installed a window box for some drapes vern sewed - she's also working on some panels for the crib and a bumper, and soon we will embark on building the dresser. We've been knitting furiously and have a few projects completed, but I'm really looking forward to getting onto making some little outfits. Which since I don't actually sew, really means that I inundate Vern's email account with links to patterns and then boss her around about whether its EXACTLY like the pattern as she slaves away over her sewing machine. She really is dedicated, that woman. And I am just RUINT (aka. ruined. rotten. spoiled. all of the above, YET sweet, like whipping cream on top of homemade banana pudding). It's all turning out to be very Pottery Barnish. Only way pimper. And all handmade. And 1/8 of the cost. AND my sexy carpenter husband builds all this stuff with solid wood. Not paneling, or MDF. And then I sand the beyotch like 5,000 times and stain/paint..and curse to the dogs about why handmade is better. Oh right. Because we don't have $1500 bucks to spend on a crib that will get used and shat on for like 2 years of its lifetime. Boo-to-the-YA Pottery Barn. You only wish you could have our dollars.
That is all.
**ps. In case you were worried about the whole 'friend and son' bit where the son is only allowed a steak dinner once a month and otherwise on a liquid diet...the 'son' is a grown man - not a no-carb-steak-eating infant. Just so you know.
Behold - 17wks. Photoshop gave me a tan. Unfortunately, it did not give me an ass.
