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?