Our baby MUST be huge, right? Because...

Ummm, I've gained 38 pounds, people. Gabe informed me that juice has a lot of calories.  I do drink a lot of juice.  A LOT.  

I took the day off today for our doctor's appointment.  All is well. We scheduled the rest of our appointments today.  Cray-see.  Time is flyyyyyying!  10 more weeks until our due date.  Nutty.

Where are my pants?

If I were most of you, I'd really enjoy reading the progesterone-induced examples of Brooke's brain lapsing a little.  Because of this, I'm happy to share another with you.  I know I'd appreciate reading any of your stories that make me feel like we're all human and can't possibly be expected to know at ALL times where our own pants are.

The other night G and I were getting ready for bed.  He brought up some clean laundry including my freshly washed pajama pants and handed them to me in the bathroom where I was brushing my teeth.  A few minutes later I emerged and went to the bed in order to retrieve my pajama pants.  Of course they weren't there, so I walked back into the bathroom, expecting to find them there.  Not there.  I walked back out to the bed, thinking I must have missed them.  Of course they still weren't there.  I said with a little frustration, "How can a person lose pants in a two minute time frame?"  Gabe, just now realizing what I was doing says, "Wait---what?"  Looking at me like I was a little crazy.  It was at this point I realized I was in fact wearing my pajama pants.  I had put them on while I was in the bathroom.

And here's a photo of our Daly passing on his blessing and endorsement to our new president.  I think they both look very contemplative and ready to take on all our nation's ills.  Daly.  Ever the patriot.

Hoosh gotch the chubbiesht cheek-eesh...?

Apparently, I do.

29 weeks and counting...

This morning my friendly neighbor was coming home just as G and I were getting in the car to leave.  She excitedly said, "Are you expecting?!"  Yes, yes we are, in April.  (husband and wife exchange a proud smile across the hood of their car)  "I thought so.  The other day I saw your face (motions with both hands near her face as if she were a chipmunk stocking up for winter).  ---Oh, and then your (motions to her belly)."  Wait, WHAT?!!!

My chipmunk face is what tipped her off.  

Not my rather large belly, mind you.  Not my pregnant waddle.  No. It was first and foremost my glowy moon face.

Up until this point I was completely oblivious to the fact that my face was competing with my uterus in the "let's look pregnant race" and according to my filter-less neighbor, winning.  

So when Gabe and I got home from our breastfeeding-your-baby class this afternoon (more on that, later), I asked him to take some prego pics for me to update my blog.  I made clear the goal: take pictures that show me my face doesn't resemble a platter. 

Turns out this is a tough task.  Thankfully we have a new camera, and a delete button.  My neighbor may have crossed a social etiquette boundary (surprising how many people ignore the fact that it might not be the best idea to tell a highly hormonal, very uncomfortable woman who is gaining a pound a week for many months their take on how she looks) but it turns out my neighbor is right. 

The pictures above are the least revealing of my chubby face, therefore they made the cut.

I have more to post, but I'll save it for later...

p.s.  I'm getting so excited to meet our baby, I can hardly stand it.

Mustering all my gusto up for you.

Faithful readers, if you are still checking this blog, thank you. I have big plans for posting this weekend.  I've been checking your blogs daily but have not mustered the gusto needed to post on my own blog.  Well, this weekend will change all that.  We've got a new camera (!!!) that I can't wait to take out on the town, a birthing class Saturday morning, plans to make some progress on baby projects and of course some updated belly pictures are in order.  So much to share.  

I know you won't all relate, but I am only just beginning to come down from the natural high I experienced on Tuesday, and I'm going to do my best to harness that for my long overdue post this weekend!  

soon

Let's meet here soon...

Just because I haven't posted in a little while, and won't be likely to again any time too soon...

Well, Gabe is going to Vermont one last time before he graduates.  He leaves Sunday.  He loves his time there, so I'm happy for him...I don't know if it's the pregnancy, but I feel more sad than I have before about him leaving.  Things are kind of boring around here when he's gone.  And the computer goes with him, so don't expect any new posts from me in the next week.  It'll just be me, our little invisible girl and the cat...

We just realized that our appointment to tour the hospital where we're (currently) set to deliver at is during Gabe's trip.  I guess I'll go alone?  Not sure what rescheduling would entail, so we'll see.  And I'm meeting with at least one doula this week to see what she has to say about things--which I'm really looking forward to.  

School for me starts back up Monday --- don't know where the last two weeks have gone --- hopefully I'll feel ready to return no later than Monday morning...

In other news, thanks to some thrift store shopping last week, I found a rocking chair (to be repainted/refurbished, of course) for $8, and a nice long dresser (to be repainted, of course) to use as our changing table for less than $15!  We need a car seat and a crib mattress (eventually) but I think all of the major nursery stuff is taken care of.  A few people have been generous enough to offer the use of their baby items, which is very appreciated, by the way : ).

Happy 2009!  I wrote my first 2009 check today.  I can't believe it's 2009.  Remember 9 years ago when everyone thought the world was going to implode-- Y2K!  Eek! Panic! ... er, nevermind.

Merry Christmas sweater!

Last night Gabe and I went to our church's ugly sweater Christmas party.  I had to force Gabe to wear his for the picture.  Most of the night he just wore a t-shirt.  My ensemble was a two-piece set.  Each sweater had its own shoulder pads, hence the football player look.  The sweater underneath very much resembled a sequins figure-skater's costume, and the outer cardigan was covered in beads. Note the zipper tassel---a separate beaded stocking that hung from the zipper.  No detail was forgotten on this little number.  I narrowly won a Starbuck's gift card for my sweaters.

Cassie had to borrow her sweater from a co-worker (elementary school teacher) while keeping the "cause" a secret so as not to offend.  Amanda's sweater was awful and this picture really doesn't do it justice.  Keri  has a gold sequined, white fur stocking sewn onto a fake red velvet shirt.  Need I say more?

24 weeks tomorrow...

There's also a new post after this one.

Gabe made me wet my pants.

Last night Gabe and I took ourselves on a date.  We splurged (not really a "splurge" for those of you not familiar with Qdoba) and went to Qdoba Mexican Grill for their fantastic grilled chicken quesadillas.  While there, Gabe was cracking me up.  He makes this face that I can't not laugh at hysterically.  Even thinking of it makes me laugh.  I don't know what it is, but it tickles my funny bone, like no other, every time.  Tears started coming out of my eyes and I lost control a little.  If you know what I mean.  And if you read the title, I think you do. The pregnancy surprises just keeeeep coming.

Favorite student quote of the week:

"She gave me an F?!!! That's so not fair! I didn't even do it (the work that was graded) !!!"
Ahhhh that precious sense of entitlement some of today's youth have.

And the runner up:

student 1: "Did you know Elvis died of constipation?"

student 2: "No he didn't!"

student 1: "Yeah, probably not. What is constipation, anyway?"

student 3: "Who's Elvis?"

student 1: (rushing over to me eagerly) "Mrs. Knipp, what's constipation and did Elvis die from it?"

Um, not in my job description?  And no, I'm pretty certain he did not.