BOOOOOOOOOO!

If this doesn't scare you, then I don't know what will...




Let this be a lesson to you, stay AWAY from the candy bowl or you'll start to look like me!





Happy spooky creepy scary Halloween from the whole Halloweenlover household! Including the littlest pumpkin!

guess who?

Guess who decided to surprise me by fixing the paint in the nursery and completing the painting of all the trim, built in bookcases and doors?!?




I'll give you a hint, he is related to the baby-to-be!




A couple of weeks ago, we were here- picking yellow after yellow after yellow. After some paint expert consultations at our neighborhood paint store, we finally settled on "Lightning Bolt", the perfect yellow for the bedding.



Then we were here: exactly what I wanted! Pale, creamy yellow, just barely into the yellow category, but matching the bedding and standing out against the white furniture.







All we have left to do is a very brief touch-up of those spots where the trim got onto the wall, and then we're done! I've been promised that rugs will be unrolled, and cribs will be built, and curtains will be hung this weekend!





Now we're here! Freshly painted ceiling, walls, trim, bookcases, doors and everything else! I can hardly believe it! Maybe this weekend I'll even have some actually-looking-like-a-nursery pictures!

31 weeks and still no names

We're still trying to come up with names, and I seem to have a roadblock when it comes to a girl's name. We have a boy's name in mind, actually a couple of them, but even though I've always thought that girls' names are a bit easier, I can't seem to come up with even one that I love! Josh is no help either, he just gives non-committal answers, and his suggestions are atrocious. I would tell you what they are, but I don't want to offend anyone, just in case.

In the meantime, though, we love to make guesses as to what sex this baby is. My only indication is that I can't think of a girl's name- we take this as some sort of proof that perhaps this baby is a boy. Then again, my mom was convinced that I was a boy. In fact, her pregnancy journal is often dedicated to "Eric", and she mentions regularly how much she loves her son-to-be. They were so surprised at my birth, they thought about naming me Erica because they couldn't possibly think of any other names! So you never know, I guess.

How about some guesses from all of you? These are the hints we've received up until now.

1. Chinese Calendar says girl, based on my date of birth and baby's date of conception.

2. I'm carrying flat and wide and low (and apparently my butt and thighs are bigger, as told to me by an acquaintance- gee, thanks).

3. I crave:
protein
spicy foods
apples
sweets
milk
peanut butter
I normally dislike sweets, but now I can't get enough. I also can't get enough spicy foods- especially buffalo sauce. I even ate it on a salad the other day!!! EW!

4. My skin is the clearest it has been in my entire life.

5. I've been told by a few people that I'm prettier pregnant than in real life (also another gee, thanks, moment).

6. I'm sleeping pretty well, and can still sleep on my back.

7. My boobs are bigger and higher than before, but still the same bra size.

8. The baby's heartbeat used to be high 150s, then high 140s, and this last appointment was high 130s.

9. I've only had one dream about this baby, the month before I got pregnant, and it was a boy.

10. Don't forget, the psychic said it was a boy!

So? Any predictions? Any old wives' tales that I'm missing? And if you'd like to throw some names into the mix, I'd appreciate it also!

girls' weekend recap

My emotional batteries may be recharged, but I think I may have ended this last week more tired than I was before these ladies arrived! Phew! What a weekend! We did lots of running around, eating, laughing, being loud and obnoxious and loving our time together. It was a blast. The best thing about my friends is that they are so enthusiastic! So everything was a treat and an adventure.

Friday night, after dealing with traffic around Logan Airport, we met Josh out for dinner and at the last minute decided to scare ourselves silly by going to see the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It is almost Halloween, you know! I have to admit, though, that I spent more time laughing at my friends cowering in their seats than I did screaming about the movie. As soon as one of the characters runs BACK into the house instead of running away, the movie is done for me. I also tend to get far more scared of ghosts or monsters than I do of real people with chainsaws (with the exception of Michael Myers, who scares the dickens out of me). That night, the girls all stayed up until 3am gabbing away, far after I'd collapsed on the couch and fallen asleep. They eventually woke me up and ushered me off to bed when they were finally ready to sleep.

Saturday, we enjoyed a delicious diner breakfast at one of our favorite authentic greasy spoons, and then headed out to Concord and Lexington to enjoy some leaf-peeping and shopping at the adorable little boutiques in the town centers. We stopped off at home to give me the opportunity for a quick nap, and then headed off to Salem to see some witches! And goblins! And ghosts!


Salem was fantastic. Not too crowded, but full of energy and good spirit. We walked around, visiting the stores and enjoying a street fair of spells and "witches brews" and random items, before stopping into a Psychic Fair so that two of my friends could get "readings". I declined, mainly because I'm not really interested in knowing the future, whether I believe it or not. I'd rather enjoy my life as it is happening, and frankly, I don't want them to tell me anything bad.

That didn't keep two of the psychics at the front desk from exclaiming as I walked in, "OH! You're having a boy!" I said that in fact, I didn't know what I was having, to which I received a chorus of yesses and nods and insistence that this little pumpkin is a boy. Apparently, a healthy, happy boy, who is going to make his appearance a bit early. AND, much to Josh's pleasure, one of the psychics told me that this little boy's feet would be very important to him, and would play a major role in his life. Of course, my aspiring soccer player husband, captain of his MBA team, is now convinced that he has a future super star on his hands.

Even more notably, specifically, this baby is going to arrive on December 19th, per one of the psychic's insistence. If this all comes true, I will indeed share the names of these psychics, so that we can go get readings because they are obviously talented and accurate. We'll have to see.

After the psychic fair, and some lovely readings where one of my friends is going to be a superstar at her new job, and the other is going to meet her tall, dark, handsome and wealthy husband-to-be shortly, we took a break for some dinner. The weather, surprisingly, was perfect. Crisp, but not too chilly, a cloudless night that begged for walking and enjoying the sites. Eventually, we drove back home and spent more time talking and laughing and going over the psychic readings.

Sunday, after a quick breakfast of bagels and coffee, and a visit to cheer Josh's soccer team on briefly, we headed out to Walden Pond for more leaf peeping and enjoying the perfect weather. We visited an apple and pumpkin farm, and tried to find a pumpkin to match the size of my belly. We visited the Old North Bridge and the Minuteman Statue, and even convinced our friend M to loudly proclaim her Longfellow speech while standing atop the Old North Bridge (she still has it memorized from the 3rd grade). Dinner at a delicious Chinese restaurant, and then a law school girlfriends' only baby shower, complete with Red Sox pacifiers and Red Sox sippy cups (much to Josh's satisfaction) and books and classical music cds for baby. It was truly wonderful, and I felt so loved and lucky and happy.

For the rest of Sunday night, we relaxed and enjoyed our time together before everyone's early morning flights. I was incredibly sad to see them go, even with the sleep deprivation! And it was terrifying to think that the next time I see them, I will (hopefully) have a baby! Crazy!

** Blogger is being stingy on letting me upload pictures to this post, so I'll have to post another update with photos, or you can mosey over to Flickr to see the weekend fun!

pipe dreams

Josh proclaimed today that in no event will his children ever chew gum with sugar.

To which I replied, "what?! What about Bubblicious?"

And he said, "no, no, no, absolutely not. No gum with sugar in my house EVER."

Now my question is, should we laugh now or later?

recharging my batteries

This weekend is a very special one. My law school girlfriends, 4 of the most fabulous women I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, are coming to visit me. They are traveling from Atlanta, Los Angeles, Albuquerque and Washington D.C., just to celebrate the future arrival of this baby, just to laugh and point and marvel at how large this belly is becoming. When they first started discussing the visit, I was excited and incredibly pleased that we were even considering it. But as they are each boarding their planes in their prospective cities, I feel humbled that I am so very lucky to have such wonderful friends.

Not many people would do this much for you, I know.

So I'm off to enjoy that special recharging that only girlfriends can give you, the kind where you sit around and laugh and tell stories and wish that you did it more often. We'll be going out to dinner, and apple picking, and leaf peeping, and even visiting the witches in Salem, but I suspect that the moments I'll carry with me will be those that we spend in my living room in front of the fireplace.

Have a wonderful weekend!

29 weeks down, 77 days to go...

This belly picture shocked me a little, because, um, I didn't realize that I looked that big! The belly is rather closely resembling a basketball these days, and I am definitely feeling more of the typical cravings that everyone talks about. Nothing too dramatic, but if you mention a food in front of me, I won't be able to stop thinking about it until I have it. I've also been craving peanut butter, which wouldn't be that odd except that I HATE peanut butter. When I worked at a coffee/yogurt shop in college, the owner would make peanut butter cookies before I came in and I'd have to wash the bowls. I would gag the whole time, because I can't even stand the SMELL of peanut butter! But now I want it, and nothing else will satisfy me. This baby is definitely Josh's, that's for sure.

In other news, I passed the glucose test with flying colors. I'm glad no one told me that you had to have 4 blood tests in 3 hours, because I would have freaked out and been anxious for the days before. Once I was already at the lab, I had a limited amount of time to freak out, and I kept reminding myself that it was all for a good cause. Unpleasant, but over fairly quickly in the grand scheme of things. The nausea and headache afterward weren't enjoyable either, but the main problem was the sugar crash I had at about noon, causing me to burst into tears for no real reason on the way to work.

We also had a minor catastrophe over the weekend, when after weeks and weeks and WEEKS of begging Josh to paint the baby's room, he locked himself in the future nursery to paint the built-in bookshelf, doors, windows and trim. For some reason, he lost his mind when he chose the paint, and rather than picking the clearly identified semi-gloss trim paint, he chose something called Calcimine Recoater, a specific product that we have to use on our old ceilings to prevent the paint from flaking off the Calcimine plaster. I walked in halfway through, and noted that it seemed rather gleaming white instead of the lovely creamy trim color I'd chosen, but didn't think much of the whole thing. It wasn't until he asked me to help him clean the paint brushes, and my hands were covered in oil paint with no hope of coming off, that I realized what he'd done. And then I cried. And cried. And cried.

I cried because now we have to hire someone to come and figure out how to fix this situation. And then I cried because he'd ruined the baby's room and the only thing I want is a place to arrange for this baby (I think the nesting is kicking in big time). And then I cried because I'd gotten the oil paint all over my hands and breathed it in, and I was convinced that now I'd probably hurt the baby. There was a lot of crying. Probably a lot of hormones too, but seriously, the crying was bad. I'm still upset because all the painters I contacted, that we can't really afford, can't start for several weeks, and that makes me a little crazy. But I'm trying to focus on something else, and on the realization that tons of people don't have a nursery ready when the baby comes. Most likely I will have plenty of time, but if I don't, I'll survive.

Besides all of this, we're just doing the same old thing. Still feeling great most of the time, still sleeping on my back, still loving all the kicking and rolling. I'm more shocked every day at HOW big this belly is getting. I'm not sure how there can be 77 days left until my due date. There is an awful lot of growing that can get done in 77 days, you know?

thanks from the 2 and 2/3 of us

Thank you so much for your well-wishes. It has been a long and exhausting couple of days, and today I am back at work, moving gingerly and sitting carefully. Everything hurts, and oddly, my hips feel loose and slightly out of whack. Baby doesn't seem to mind, though, and has been utilizing its breach position to its full advantage. The ribs on my right hand side are apparently highly entertaining, and feet or fingers are in there all the time.

Yesterday was spent on the couch, trying to rest and feeling antsy at the same time. I felt fine unless I actually moved any muscles, so I alternated between deciding to get up and do something and then changing my mind once I made any attempts to move. I reviewed our registry several times, and got a bit freaked when I discovered that people have bought some of the gifts! The gifts that I haven't finalized yet and weren't ready to be purchased! Now I know what I'll be doing this weekend, I suppose.

The other frustrating news, is that while I was at the hospital, the doctor suggested that I go ahead and do the glucose test since I was having rounds of bloodwork anyway. I would normally have been excited about this, except that right before my fall, we'd attended a "break fast" party for Yom Kippur, and my dinner consisted of soda, cake, decaf coffee with tons of sugar, cake, kugel (noodles, cream cheese, pineapple and raisins), and cake, so I suspected that my glucose levels were rather high to begin with. The cutoff is 140, and my result was 141. Sigh.

Now I have to fast from midnight tonight until 1pm tomorrow, murder for a pregnant woman, as you might expect, and do the 3 hour glucose test at the hospital. My doctor assures me that she wouldn't even do the repeat at all, except that if she doesn't, the number will stay in my record and eventually someone will raise a fuss that I never technically passed the test. Better safe than sorry, I guess, although I would rather have held off on the initial test until I had eaten a regular meal.

So to tell you the truth, besides feeling immensely grateful that baby seems fine, things are rather grumpy in the pregnancy world. Grumpy, punctuated with adoration for the rolls and kicks. I figure that I'll give myself a day or so to feel grumpy, and then kick myself out of it.

just for kicks

It was getting a bit boring around here, what with all the love and mushiness and registry talk, so I fell down the basement stairs last night in spectacular fashion. Spectacular, I tell you. Feet flying out from under me, with hands full and unable to break my fall at all. I fell flat on my back and butt, stopped my head from slamming into the stairs by slamming my elbows into the stairs and then fell the rest of the way (about 6 steps). A glass pitcher flew across the basement, the steel pan that I was carrying in the other hand was flung against the wall, and then I collapsed at the base of the stairs in hysterics.

I couldn't catch my breath, and it hurt SO DARN MUCH that I thought for sure I'd broken my tail bone, and I kept thinking about the baby, oh my GOD, the baby. I was sobbing, eyes closed, shaking and trying to catch my breath while Josh ran down the stairs to my side and begged me to tell him what had happened. It felt like an eternity before I could breathe enough to tell him how hard I'd fallen and that he needed to call the doctor's emergency line.

So we spent last night being monitored for several hours in the labor and delivery ward, with ultrasounds and baby monitors and contraction monitors and blood work. Everyone is FINE, except for the massive bruises up and down my butt and back and elbows. Frankly, though, I'll take those 1,000,000 times over, just to hear that my baby is happy and safe.

We drank some orange juice right after the fall to encourage baby to move, because he or she was strangely quiet. During the race to the hospital, baby was moving fairly actively and once we got to the hospital and I was hooked up to the monitor, the kicking and twisting was nonstop. No contractions, no bleeding, the ultrasound looked fabulous, although the little bugger decided to turn fully breach, with its bottom near my cervix, head near my ribcage, and legs and arms stretched straight out into my right side and in front of baby's face. On the ultrasound we watched him playing with his toes and umbilical cord. Baby even regaled us with practice breaths and the hiccups while on screen.

We went home around 4am after they were satisfied that everything was fine, with strict orders to rest all day and come in immediately if anything seemed amiss. Everything has been fine all day, with only soreness and bruising to show for the experience. That, and new rules about walking around the house with rubber soled slippers instead of socks. I'm only a step above going down the stairs on my bottom, at this point.

I'm hoping this is the end of the excitement for this pregnancy, I think Josh and I have had enough.