Adventures in Shopping

I want this shirt.

In other news, I tie dyed and regular dyed a bunch of onesies and some wrap snap shirt things and got around to embroidering one. I dyed them what was supposed to be turquoise but turned out light blue. Thankfully I have some pink and purple stuff to put on them to balance it out. Major plans for the rest of them, but the embroidery hoop I got is too big, and the onesies may turn out to be too small if I have a baby over 8 lbs. Let's hope for no. The diaper bag project has been abandoned for now.

OH, and Grandma and I went shopping (thus where I got the onesies, dye, embroidery floss, etc. etc. etc.), got a bunch of groceries....AND I FORGOT TO GET KRISPY KREMES!! Well, I probably would have remembered had I not been about ready to pass out from spending a bunch of time there and not having eaten anything before that. The KKs were at the front where I was too dazed to notice. Just lovely. Thankfully I got plenty of other crappy food to hold me down.

Rhino of Pregnancy

Forget the donut, right now I just want Nyquil, a really good decongestant, and a kick-butt humidifier to knock me out and let me sleep. Really, how much snot can one nose/two nostrils produce? I read somewhere (but can't find it now...) that viruses last longer for pregnant women--in addition to the extra pregnancy congestion (technically: rhinitis of pregnancy) from this increase of blood and expanding blood vessels and stuff. Cool.
If only I had my Zicam around to catch it sooner. It usually works for me.
I could never be a teacher or a doctor. If someone sneezes in a 5 mile radius of me, I'm down for a week. Get with it already, immune system!

Just Gimme the D'ohnut!

I'm giving birth to Homer Simpson. That's the only explanation. I've been lazy, loving the TV, and WOW, the donut craving. I've been wanting a Krispy Kreme for a whole...well, only 2 days now. The nearest Krispy Deliciousness is a whole 7 miles away (like a whole 'nother town), and they're not even fresh. Evidently the lazy urge is still trumping the donut urge. My pancreas and insulin levels are grateful.

The only thing that doesn't jive with this theory is an affinity for beer. Haven't been craving that at all, but I do suppose I would like it more than liquor.

The only thing is, I know that when I get that elusive Krispy Kreme, it won't be nearly as delicious as I imagined. Somehow, my tastebuds are all out-of-whack. Nearly nothing tastes as scrumptious or is as satisfying as it once was. I was expecting to be a raging foodaholic with this whole "knocked-up" biz, and so far, that's definitely not the case. I'm not too worried though, there are still approximately 23 weeks left for that to come back on me in the worst way.

Once upon a time I had myself convinced that if I put butter and honey on a hot dog bun it tasted just like a donut. Maybe I'll try that again. Aaand maybe not. I just want some fluffy, glazed goodness that is a Krispy Kreme.

Bowling Ball Smuggler

I have concocted a plan for the coolest diaper bag ever. It's totally environmentally friendly (the reuse step in my favorite saying: reduce, reuse, recycle), practical, and duhhh--outrageously hella cool. In theory, at least.

Grandma was evidently in to bowling at one point in her five-decade life (sometime in the 80s, she guesses) and got a nifty matching ball, shoes, and bag set. The bag is a nifty brown, orange-ish brown and yellow-ish brown, and is obviously durable. Total diaper bag material, right? The piping around the backside of the bag needs some repair, and the whole thing needs a really in-depth date with a cleaning solution of some sort.

The inspiration for such a kickin' bag came from this one by Room Seven. I'm utterly and completely in love with it. It's not your average, everyday diaper bag--perfect for the extraordinarily odd kid I plan on having. I'm just not so down with paying $136 (the cheapest I've found, but I'm not even sure that was USD) for it.

The idea also came along after seeing a maternity shirt with a bowling ball on it. Ya know, since some pregnant women just look like they have a bowling ball under their shirts.

My plan isn't really much of a plan at all. It involves felt appliques (but I'm not sure how I would get a needle through such tough fabric), creating a liner with inside pockets to create sections and storage areas inside (not really sure at all how I'm going to go about this, much less "retrofit" it to the bag), a cool shoulder strap (not sure how to attach it so it's sturdy enough) and maybe some hook and loop fastener (aka Velcro) add-ons (should be easy, so why not?).

Did I mention I'm not really "experienced?" I do own a sewing machine, BUT we haven't looked each other in the eye for a very long time. The last time we worked together, things didn't turn out so well--completely due to my impatience with sewing projects. I need instant gratification with crafts. Even if a project is made to be a whole-weekend ordeal, I will sit down and do it until the wee hours of the morning. This is definitely why my previous attempts at knitting a scarf have turned into potholders.

I made a super cool messenger bag out of an old marching band uniform I found at the Salvation Army one time. I didn't really measure and didn't really have a plan, but somehow it worked out fine. It's still around here somewhere in desperate need of a liner to make it complete. SEE the issues with making a liner already?

And right now, instead of thinking, maybe I shouldn't try to tackle creating a liner, I'm thinking, yeeeahhh, I need to go thrift store shopping again!

And how would I even repair that piping I mentioned earlier?

Could I just hot glue all this stuff together? I'm really rockin' at that--nevermind the permanent, cone-shaped scar on my inner thigh from dropping the gun in my lap.

What am I getting myself into? Is a bowling bag even a practical shape for a diaper bag? And why am I actually thinking things through? This is not how my creative endeavors usually play out. What's happening to me?

Oh yeah--pregnancy. Blame everything on the pregnancy. Hormones, I tell you.

Even if this bag turns out to be a heap of crap, I fully plan on customizing everything of the baby's with felt appliques. Well, maybe not everything--someone else may want those clothes someday, and probably sans my artistic vision. But really, felt's cheap y'all!

Tips seriously welcome. Like really. Thus why I said seriously. Or you could just buy me the Room Seven bag, but then I would feel guilty and thoroughly inept. A little.

Cherry Mristmas

The first post I wrote about Xmas wasn't at all in "the Xmas Spirit," so I decided to blog the other side of my Xmas story.
It's Xmas to me--my last name is too close to Christmas. Therefore, Merry Christmas always ends up "Merry Christ(restofmylastname)" when I type it.

Aunt Missy brought your cousins over, which gave me another chance to "practice" with Cousin Henry, currently like 7 weeks old. Cousin Henry seems to be awful pissed that my milk machines aren't in working order yet. Otherwise, I'm a pretty okay stand-in mom. We didn't do another round of cloth diapers, we already know those are a go.

You got stuff! Grandma got you some Nike onesies (which she pronounces the same as Nicky). The only thing--they're pink with cheerleading, ballet, and soccer graphics. It's still a 50/50 guess at this point, but even if you are a boy, I totally don't see it being a problem. Real men wear pink, right? And guys have been known to participate in each of those activities.

Side note: Yes, I said activities. I don't consider all cheerleading a sport. I cheered in high school and for one year in college, so don't even go there. Just because something is physically challenging doesn't make it a sport. Not that it matters, anyway...

Santa got us:

• a new winter coat (mine is black, Aunt Missy's is the same in paradise aqua)
• an amazingly soft and warm robe (although points were taken off since it's not terry cloth and I use my robe to dry off from a shower)
• the coolest slippers evarrr (in fern green, with points taken off since they're too big, but points added on because I think we're getting replacements)
• my first non-hand-me-down, genuine-maternity piece of clothing (looks just like a regular hoodie)
• Aunt Missy made broccoli cheese soup while we were napping (not a direct gift to me, but I was just as happy)

So now my biggest stressor? The fact that Grandma wrapped the Xmas Eve dinner leftovers in foil instead of clear clingwrap--therefore making foraging for food in the fridge fantastically formidable (alliteration, anyone?).

What are the two sides to your Xmas 2007 experience?

Insides: cleaned out

Barf, diarrhea, barf, diarrhea, barf, diarrhea, both at same time (the infamous double-ender); repeat for 15 hours.
Add a liberal dose of hellish chills, lightheadedness, dizziness, stomach and intestinal pains, weakness, killer back and tailbone pains and WELCOME to my yesterday. There were also added bonuses of pukey toilet water splashing me in the face and burning urethra pains.
I know I didn't have any lofty goals for Christmas break, but I did expect to accomplish more in a day than successfully walking to the toilet and back and having great aim for the trash can.
All that following a lovely day with Aunt Missy's three kids--two tagging along for the innumerable, obnoxiously-drawn-out errands. Aunt Missy and Cousin Andee were plagued with what Aunt Missy calls "pissy butt." So guess who we're blaming for all our woes.
Yes, those bitches. I can confidently refer to them as that because we were thisclose to having Grandma and Grandpa drive us to the hospital. Staying hydrated is not my body's forte.
Thankfully, I think the worst is over. I went pee this morning without all the extraneous activity from my bowels. It was the best part of break so far!

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

Photo: Me, Auntie Val, (and you) with (sleazy) Santa at your very first Tacky Christmas Sweater Party! I had to borrow the sweater since the TWO that I got off eBay didn't come in, in time. That's mistletoe on Val's headband. Don't worry, we kissed her later.

My life has changed a bit for the moment being, and it all seemed to happen as the first major ice/snow fell. That must be the thing to blame for all this madness. Another reason to hate winter, as if I needed it.
Don't get me wrong, not all the changes were bad or even so-so. Some were great!

I had another doctor's appointment last Monday (12.10), and, for the most part (the reasons we were there), everything was great. The baby's heartbeat has been over 140 both times we heard it--so it has to be a girl, right?(http://pregnancy.about.com/od/genderpredictions1/ss/genderfht.htm if you're not familiar)

In every baby dream of mine it's a boy, though, and I (and Valerie, must be rubbing off) tend to refer to it or think of it as a "he." But this could just be because strange, unknown things are often males.
I'll find out for sure Jan. 10 at my next ultrasound and appointment. I'll keep you updated for sure.

Weight update: 125. On the up and up! Up 1 lb. from my first visit and up 3 lbs. from my last visit. My scale in the bathroom still said 120, but I'm pretty sure it's perpetually stuck there. My suitemates probably weigh the same too, even though they're a fraction of my size.

Blogs may or may not increase in frequency from now until Jan. 9. I'm at home for winter break where absolutely nothing happens, but it gives me an obnoxiously lot of time to be bored and sit around and think about things. I hate it.
I'm going to go snoop in Christmas presents now. Baby, I'll let you know if there's something in there for you, but it might be disguised as mine. We did get an early Xmas present--a laptop, but only cuz the old one was psy to the cho. I'd take a picture of it if I had a new digital camera.

Another girl with a baby

I'm just another girl with a baby.
I'll never be able to have another wild, fun night.
That's not what good moms do.
The dirty looks elicited from the mere presence of my bulging belly in a bar for a fun night out would send anyone whimpering into a corner.
I can't flirt with boys
My only pickup line now is, "So how do you feel about kids...that aren't yours?"
From now on my "going out" outfits will be stuffed in boxes at the back of my closet
Replaced by spit-up stained mom shirts
Guys don't go out looking for a mom: how many times have you heard, "I'd like a boring chick with too much responsibility, stretch marks, saggy boobs, and an oversized vagina."
No bachelorette pad for me
Toys, bottles, high chairs, diapers, and a crib will sure create the perfect mood for a fun rendez-vous with a charming young stud.
An episode of Sex and the City, my life will never be.
No Cosmos with the girls or trips to the spa whenever it's convenient.
Baby has needs.

I wish I would have lived and taken advantage of the two years of the "college experience" I had:
Binge drank more and made out with more random boys
Why didn't I take advantage of the only time when it's socially acceptable to be a drunken slut and walking hangover?
My advice to freshman girls: be the biggest idiot you can, embarrass your parents, get in trouble, drink 'til you can't drink any more, use boys any way you feel the need, get your name in the police reports, "visit" all the frats, be the sloppiest drunk in the bar, be as superficial as you possibly can, sleep anywhere--as long as it's some place you won't remember where you're at in the morning, get a curable STD or five, get naked, do whatever you have to do to barely squeak by in your classes--do whatever the hell you feel like doing because this is your time to shine!
From now on I'll look at the girls who pass out drunk and have one night stands with envy.
Those girls will grow up fine, get good jobs, get married and have families--when they're ready.
Why them and not me?
I should have lived my life with reckless abandon, tried a drug or two and made many, many more stupid mistakes.
Instead, I used birth control and stuck with one guy. Never tried a drug. I went out only on relative occasion--every other weekend, maybe.

But now I'm tarnished and tainted.
Just another girl with a baby.

Awash with...?

I told my floor tonight at the floor meeting. I was expecting to be feeling relieved at this moment--like that weight would be lifted off my chest a bit, but it's definitely not relief I'm feeling.
I wasn't telling them to elicit a big "congratulations" from them or anything. After I told the staff, things had been getting around in hush-hush circles. When an office assistant and someone in my class told me they knew, I figured it was probably a good time to tell my floor before they heard rumors from other people.
It was a lame, "mandatory" meeting to go over a few winter break things mainly. They'd been through the routine before. After the announcement, there was the expected silence and quick glances at my stomach. And then I told them they could go. Very quickly after I spilled the beans. That probably didn't help the awkwardness.
Just not a positive vibe. Ick.

I don't really know what I'm feeling, but it feels like guilt, shame, disappointment, and doubt. I hope it goes away soon.
I need a hug, but there's no one to hug me. I could cry right now, but I don't have time. Just going to smile and fake it--something I'm quite the expert at by now.