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Adding Some Color

I distinctly remember my first encounter with food coloring. It was love at first chemical-laden sight. Mom and I were icing sugar cookies. We'd made a bowl of white icing. Then she broke out the food coloring. I was memorized by the bright colors and giddy at the thought of mixing them.

Like most six year olds, I believed more was better. So the icing started a lovely pink after a few drops of red. Next came lavender with some blue. Then Mom turned her back just long enough for me to reenact the movie Cocktail with food coloring. Every color was going in and hell with a few drops, more is better. This is fantastic, I thought, as I created a rainbow in the bowl. I stirred with glee until I realized the rainbow was disappearing. The icing was turning a disgusting shade of gray-brown. This was terrible. No one wants to eat icing that looks like poop.

So you're thinking, nice little story Jen. Way to point out that more isn't necessarily better. But that's actually not my …

Message to Lululemon

Dear Ms. Lemon,

I have a bone to pick with you. This may come as a surprise because you're pretty much perfect with your fabulous patterns and ability to make most asses look perky. But here's my issue. You've turned yoga class into junior high.

Like Guess jeans and Benetton rugby shirts circa 1988, you are all about status. That little horseshoe-like logo winks at me from the next mat over. "You know you want to own a pair," it says. "Athleta and Lucy are fine and good, but if you are serious about yoga, go with Lulu."

Like most new moms managing a budget that includes one million diapers per month (that's what it feels like anyway) I picked a special occasion to reward myself. I'd get a pair of Lulu's for my fortieth birthday and BAM, I'd be the cool kid in yoga class. My ass will perk, my thighs will tone and maybe even splits will become possible because if I'm going to spend $100 on a pair of yoga pants, they better damn well do…

Bonk!

This holiday has also been a weekend of many firsts. On Friday, Baby C rolled from her stomach to her back. This morning she rolled back to stomach. Later in the day she grabbed her toes. And all weekend long she's been a Chatty Cathy, "conversing" with anyone who will indulge her.

I can hear those of you without kids thinking "Big deal, lady, my cat does that all day long and she can completely bathe herself with her tongue. So your kid rolled over. Who cares?" I can say this because this is what I thought when I read about someone's kid rolling over.

Here's why this is kind of a big deal -- it means your kid is not totally void in the development department. It also means you should no longer turn your back on the changing table.

Another not-so-good first happened tonight. As I carried Baby C through the kitchen I bonked her head on a cabinet door. Crap.

Time slowed down. I looked at her. She looked at me. There was a pause. I thought for a nanosecon…

Slow the eff down already

Parenthood is bopping along pretty well. We survived Halloween and dressing Baby C up like Princess Leia. She was not happy about it, but Husband was. I figured he has two years of influence over Halloween costume selection before she has an opinion, so better fit the Star Wars in now.

The daycare drop-off is getting easier. Not easy mind you, but easier. C continues to be her happy, gargling self when she's not coughing up a lung due to her first cold. It took a week in daycare to get to that milestone and I know exactly what kid passed it along. (I'm looking at you over there in the corner, Snotty McButterpants. Yes, you.)

That's okay though, because I can listen to everyone put the positive spin on it by saying, "She's building up immunity!" Right. Let's talk immunity when she's coughing everyone awake at 3 a.m. But really it's not too bad. Husband is even getting pretty deft with the snot-sucker thing.

After all my blog entries bellyaching ab…

A New Groove

I worried about a lot of things while pregnant. In fact, I mastered borrowing worry. My child was going to be colicky - I was certain. So I read books to prepare. Charley's not colicky. According to my sister, she's the most well-behaved baby ever. (That's an overstate, but she is pretty darn good.)

One of my biggest worries was how I'd get my workout groove back. Husband and I had a nice little system pre-baby. We'd alternate gym days with dog walk days and on weekends I'd swim and yoga while he hit the trails. We each got workouts in about five days a week and felt relatively fit.

While pregnant, I wracked my brain to come up with a system that would work with a baby and dog. I'd get up an 4:30am to accommodate exercise. I'd go to the 8pm swim practices. I'd do extra long workouts on the weekends.

Sometimes good intentions remain intentions.

Getting up at 5am gives me time to feed the baby, get ready for work, pump and get baby to day care. Saturd…

Blink of an Eye

Has it really been eleven weeks? Have I really been a stay-at-home mom for nearly three months? Is tomorrow actually the day I will drop off Baby C at child care and drive to the office to reclaim my pre-baby job? Shockingly, yes.

Last night I teared up while explaining to Husband every milestone makes me nostalgic. I even cried at my six week follow-up doctor's appointment. When sweet Dr. L grabbed my hand and looked at Charley, complimenting her in all her baby-ness, it felt like a door closing. That door opened last December with a plus sign on a little plastic stick. Ten months later with a pat on the back I'm out the door with this creature who has overwhelmed my world.

Let me be clear - I know people have babies everyday. Multiple babies. Some have nineteen and get their own TV show. Baby C is not miraculous in that sense. She eats, poops, sleeps, cries and obsesses over ceiling fans. (This is her new favorite activity.) But for Husband and I, each of whom thought havin…

Greasy hair, dirty clothes and a vague smell of poop - welcome to maternity leave

Two weeks from today I'll be back at work. Fourteen measly days. While I know dropping Charley off at day care is going to be a mascara-free day, I'm quietly happy to be venturing back into the land of adults. A place where conversation does not revolve around the number of daily poops, generic verses brand name diapers and what brand socks actually freaking stay on a baby's foot. (The answer is GAP.)

Before Baby C's arrival, I was anxiously awaiting maternity leave. Three months of no work. Even with a baby, that sounded enticing. (Stupid me.) I've never not worked since graduating college. This would finally be the opportunity to be the glamorous, non-working person I yearned to be if I ever won the lottery.

As is always the case, my perception and the actual reality were very far apart. Squeezing in the bare necessities around the needs of a being that sleeps, poops, cries and eats continually does not leave a lot of spare time for lounging. (Or even showering, …

Week Five Highlights

You may think that when one is on maternity leave, a three day weekend isn't that big of deal. You'd be wrong.

A three day weekend means that husband is off for three days, which means more baby coverage and therefore a pinch more freedom. Fortunately, this weekend included many post-baby firsts.

Friday night we actually watched a movie. Yes, it was in our own living room and a two hour movie took three hours to watch, but there was popcorn so it counts.

Saturday was the first family outing to the Plaza for the opening day of Moosejaw. Baby C settled into the Ergo and slept the entire time. There was a photo booth at the store where we attempted to get a photo of her, quite unsuccessfully. This is a photo of a photo since I don't have my scanner at home, but you get the gist.

Not really an event, but Husband's co-worker brought by a teddy bear for Baby C that is literally six feet tall and completely awesome. Steve, as he has been named, is now helping Trudy with secu…

A Day in the Life

For anyone who thinks maternity leave is a luxury, let me give you the real scoop.

Here's my day:

5-5:30am - Feeding

6-8am - Baby sleeps and/or lightly squawks in crib. I do exciting stuff including: brush teeth, pick up house, unload dishwasher and take some Excedrin. (Husband commented life with a newborn includes a constant, low-grade headache, so we're both hitting the Excedrin extra-hard.) This time may include eating breakfast, if I'm lucky. (Today includes blogging.)

8:30am - Baby up for another feeding.

9am - Diaper change. (She dislikes this.) Clothing change. (She dislikes this, too.) A rousing game of peek-a-boo while she's on the changing table. (This is a whole new level of dislike - maybe even hate. But my face super-up-close scares me, too, so I can't blame her.)

9:30-10:30am - Carry Baby around seeing what I can accomplish one-handed. Maybe walk around yard to get her some Vitamin D. Have Baby do "tummy time" which is when she lays on her …

Nothing A Chicken Bone Can't Fix

Last night, Husband, Charley, Trudy and I ventured out for a family walk. This wasn't the first family walk that we've taken. However, it was the first walk where Trudy has been, well, Trudy.

Bringing Charley home and combining baby with an overprotective dog gave me pause. Fortunately, things have gone well. We've been consistent with T's walk schedule and she gives Charley lots of sniffs and licks. T has taken to napping under the crib, which is quite endearing. But now I'm getting off track.

As we're finishing the walk, Husband makes the mistake of unclipping the leash before getting in the house. That one nanosecond was all it took. T pulled her fake out move and was in the neighbor's yard in a blink. She paused, looked back at us with the distinctive "eff you" expression and took off.

Baby was hungry, so I was off the hook for chasing, which left Husband. I settled on the couch to watch whatever Gordon Ramsey show is on at 8pm. (The man is on…

One Thing At A Time

A week before Charley arrived, a kind man at Latte Land dispersed some baby wisdom my way. (Pretty much everyone in the eighth month did this, but this fellow -- Bob -- made more sense than many others.) He said, "A baby takes away everything that was important before and gives those things slowly back, one at a time."

Here's what I've received back this week:

1. The ability to run to Walgreen's and buy hydrogen peroxide.

2. A drive through the ATM.

3. A short walk with Trudy.

4. A quick trip to the grocery store where I still forgot butter.

5. The purchase of a bottle of wine. (That's kind of cheating since it's really due to not being pregnant anymore. Same situation with the ankle bones.) Note I haven't actually had any wine to drink, but it's nice knowing it's in the fridge.

6. And the big attempted finale... a pedicure. I didn't really get this back, but I did go by Oak Nails to see what the wait time was, which they said 10-15 minute…

Charley and the Sleepless Factory

Well, I have about eighteen topics that are worthy of a blog entry and six minutes to write. So what does that get you? A modified top ten list covering the first nine days of motherhood.

1. I'm not going to horrify any new moms-to-be with a delivery horror story. Mine was actually okay. Not fun, mind you. Not painless. But if you told me I had to do it again next week, I could manage. (After a fair amount of complaining.) Labor lasted 24 hours. An epidural is a tiny gift from God. I pushed through five contractions and there she was - Charlotte Elizabeth Saab.

2. It is quite all right to have the nurses put the baby in the nursery at night. I enjoyed those few hours of stress-free sleep. They may have been my last.

3. If a tan, cologne-wearing security guard knocks on your hospital door and asks if there are any weapons in the room, it's a safe bet my husband will suspect he's a stripper. This scenario was made better by the fact that friends were there to witness it and…

Get This Party Started

So what do you do when you're reclining in a hospital bed, Olympic beach volleyball on the TV and watching petocin slowly drip through an IV into your arm? You blog.

As of 3:32pm, all is manageable. Ask me in an hour or two and the tune will most likely be different. Petocin scares the crap out me, but as long as it gets the baby out of me, I'm trying to not freak out.


I woke up this morning and greeted the day as a normal Monday. After walking Trudy a few miles and spending 40 minutes on the elliptical, it dawned on me I felt a little crampy, for lack of a better term. And without getting too graphic, I started to wonder if my water had broken. (It was nothing like it's portrayed on television.)

So I called a handful of friends and my sister to get some feedback. All signs pointed to yes, so I called my doctor's office which said just go to the hospital. I took Trudy for a second walk while waiting for Husband to get home and try not to overreact.

At the hospital it…

This and That

Blogging when you don't have any significant update is difficult. But I haven't been on here in ten days, so I feel some nagging responsibility to check in. I'm still here, I'm still pregnant, it's still hot as hell and I'm still freaked out about impending parenthood. (Though I'm desperate to be done with pregnancy.)

A few things that are getting me through this final month:

1. The pool. Always my sanctuary, swimming still feels wonderful even though I'm S-L-O-W. I'm even over how scary I look in my Speedo and have ventured back to my Sunday masters practice. The outdoor, 50-meter pool is heaven and if I look closely after a workout, there's still a little tricep muscle to be seen. (Plus it does wonders for the water retention in my ankles.)

2. The Olympics start this Friday. Enough said.

3. One part of being an old mom-to-be is you get to go to the doc twice weekly the last month. These visits include checking the baby's heart rate for dis…

Homestretch

I don't know if the final month is really the home stretch - maybe that should be left for the final week - but today is officially one month from due date. While I'm hopeful for an early delivery, I'm doubtful that will be the case. I was a month late. (My poor mother.) However, I was also an extremely sweet baby. (What happened, I don't know.) All I know at this point is nearly everything is out of my control and no amount of house cleaning or freezing casseroles will change that.

This is my last month of not being a parent, which also causes some angst. I've sorted through old photos, reread blog entries and reminisced some about my childless life. I've bemoaned to Husband about missing our Colorado trip this summer. Maybe we should have waited a year before starting a family.

However the concerns and fears are moot; the baby train has left the station. Husband also pointed out we're not exactly spring chickens, so waiting didn't benefit us. As it is…

"I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies."

Neither do I, Prissy. (Gone with the Wind, 1939)

Husband and I attended a childbirth class on Saturday for this very reason. Like most first time parents, neither of us has a clue. However, being surrounded by other anxious and slightly neurotic parents-to-be actually made us feel better.

We did learn some interesting tidbits such as keep absorbent towels and a trash bag in the car you plan to take to the hospital. That way if you leak amniotic fluid it won't get on the seats and ruin the way your car smells forever. (Ugh.)

We also have a better understanding of different breathing techniques, when to leave for the hospital and not to change diapers on the floor as Trudy might interpret that as a literal pissing contest and start going all over the house.

At one point, we went around the room and announced our birthing plan. I resisted the urge to say my plan was to get the baby out of me quickly while inflicting as little pain as possible. However, after listening to several wome…

Cankles, heartburn and peeing

That's where I'm at.

After my baby shower two weeks ago I looked down to discover Fred Flintstone's feet were in my sandals. Goodbye, ankle bones. Hope to see you again in a couple months. For now, I'm accepting the sausage feet as part of the whole experience. (Don't get me wrong - I complain about it constantly.) But they say water weight is the easiest to lose, so my fingers are crossed.

I remember my dad popping Tums and moaning about something called heartburn when I was a kid. That must be an old man's disease, I thought. Nope. Another fun side-effect of being with child. Last week, even cereal was causing major indigestion. Prilosec to the rescue. Thank God that's allowed during pregnancy.

Now down to less than two months, the morning dog walk has become an issue. Trudy likes a 45-60 minute walk before napping the day away. My bladder can make it about 15 minutes. So in addition to carrying a dog poo bag and Milkbones, toilet paper has become a neces…

To the bat cave!

If you've ever wondered where's the bat cave, have I got great news for you. It's in my house.

Maybe you were like me and thought about bats only after watching something vampire-related. As Kansas City vermin, they just weren't on my radar. Mice? Traps. Spiders? Exterminator. Bats? Huh? Who deals with bats around here?

Now I do.

My least favorite thing about moving to Husband's neighborhood (and there are many great things, too) is that I now live in a menagerie of my two biggest phobias - snakes and bats. And they are plentiful. Fortunately the snakes have remained outside the house. (At least so far. Crap.)

The bats, however, make themselves at home. Last summer, after an evening walk with Trudy, I opened the front door to a bat circling the living room. Completely freaked out, I called Husband who was working a rock show. He picks up the phone to me screaming "Bat! Bat! There's a %$(*#@ bat in the house!" He can't get home, so our kind neigh…

Melt. Down.

Memorial Day weekend was the first weekend we'd been home in the last month, so that meant one thing - knock some shit out.

Husband spent the weekend preparing for his annual pilgrimage to the Wakarusa Festival in Arkansas where he is responsible for providing equipment for the bands. This is no small feat and frankly, I don't know how he does it. I do know it provides some nice extra income, so I keep my mouth shut.

My weekend focus was the soon-to-be nursery. For the record, I am not a crafty, visually artistic person. I am the person for whom home magazines are printed - here are some pretty pictures of rooms for you to copy. This is the same approach I take with the baby room. I wanted simple and contemporary, but not overly baby-ish. And to keep Husband happy, no pink.

So I find my ideal nursery pic, head to Home Depot for the specific gray paint listed and get to work. After patching walls, cleaning baseboards, taping and moving furniture, I get the first coat applied o…

Six down, three to go

It's the start of the third trimester and more musings have been gathered.

1. I am aware that I will give birth during the hottest part of the year. I'm a native Kansas Citian so there's no need to point this out to me. I get it. August sucks. I'm going to be huge and miserable. Thanks for pointing out something I have no control over. However, if you'd like to be helpful, you can bring me a ice cream cake in late July. I like mint chocolate chip.

2. Do not touch my stomach unless you are comfortable with me karate chopping your wrist. My friends understand this, as I'm not a touchy-feely person. However, acquaintances seem to think this acceptable. It's not. You should approach a pregnant woman as you would a dog - ask if it's okay before putting a hand near the bathing suit region.

3. Let me be the initiator of my pregnancy concerns. There's enough to be worried about without someone throwing in additional items. "Have you had hemorrhoids ye…

A Whole Lotta Nothin'

Two days into vacation and relaxation is finally arriving. This is my seventh time to Seabrook Island, and I love it more each visit. The quiet. The smell of ocean. Wind chimes, which normally drive me batty, do not bother me here. Fortunately, Husband's agenda is similar to my own so it's working out well.

Sunday was travel day and did not start out promising. Once again, I booked flights so the layover in Atlanta was too brief. Last year we got stuck in Atlanta coming and going, and it looked to be the same this year. A delayed flight out of KC had me anxious. Husband and I scrambled through the Atlanta terminal - me running until I hit a large crowd of people and then having to stop and Husband walking briskly and appearing far less maniacal. I made it to the gate three seconds earlier, which convinces me my method paid off.

Once in Charleston, Husband explained to car rental agent that this is our last trip sans baby for the next year and the guy kindly upgraded our rental…

Breast Practice

While my last post stated I really have nothing to complain about pregnancy-wise, I was wrong. I will continue to post about my out-of-control chest region.

Last weekend was an exercise in futility as I tried to find a swimsuit to wear on my upcoming vacation. Buying a swimsuit when you're not pregnant is less than enjoyable. Buying one while pregnant ranks just above a root canal.

While trying on various options at Destination Maternity, I could not stop laughing. The sales girl popped over to ask if I needed help. My question was do you have any suit available that when I put it on will not scare small children? Her answer? "We don't carry anything with under wire support."

Yeah, thanks. You could have pointed that out sooner and saved me lots of time and discouragement. Mission failed.

Then last night Husband tells me about a discussion he had with the lifeguard at the Y. She commented that she doesn't often see swimmers with breasts as big as mine. He agreed…

Over Halfway

I hate to jinx it, but I've been pretty fortunate the first half of my pregnancy. At over 23 weeks, I have not thrown up once, experienced bad acne or had any unmanageable pain. (Okay, I almost threw up after eating at Texas Road House, but that wasn't pregnancy related. My advice is don't eat there, even if your dad has a gift card.)

People ask if I'm still training and the answer is no, but I haven't trained for anything since the summer of 2010. Am I working out? Yes. The pool is the one place I don't feel like a lumbering bear. The extra buoyancy is actually helpful. Once I sprint past the full-length mirror and actually get into the water, I don't even feel pregnant. Magic.

Yoga has also been a regular part of the routine, mostly because it keeps me sane mentally. I've found a couple good DVDs to do at home, which is nice for when I fall over. Some of the prenatal moves are pretty amusing. I told Husband he might actually like the workout, just …

A Plea to the Moms Out There

I'm in desperate need of help. Yesterday, in an effort to prepare for upcoming baby showers, I registered at Target online. Well, I didn't really register. I have a registry. It just doesn't have anything on it. Because there is just too much freaking stuff.

I am completely overwhelmed. I get the essentials like a car seat. Yes, we need one. We most want two seat bases. However, there are literally hundreds of car seats. How the hell do I know which one is good? Do I need a convertible car seat? If I get the car seat that adapts to the stroller thing do I then also need a stroller? Why is this so hard?

It's hard because I'm clueless. Maybe a little internet research will help? It doesn't. Half the suggested baby lists are sponsored by advertisers that are insistent I need a water temperature checker. Hey, Parents.com, I have one of those. It's called my hand. Is an ear thermometer necessary? I still remember the old thermometer in the behind method and it wa…

Trudy's New Toy

After the monsoon of a week we had in Kansas City, Trudy was not happy. Her walks were shorter, there were no trips to the muddy dog park and in general, she was bouncing off the walls. Husband and I were desperate to tame the puppy energy. Enter the dog tow leash.

You know when you order something online and have these ridiculously high expectations? Then it's delivered and the results are just, well, meh? That was NOT the dog tow leash. This thing is awesome. Husband had Trudy hooked up in a flash and they were off doing laps through the neighborhood. She was literally trying to pull him up the hills. After 30 minutes, she was exhausted. We were giddy thinking we've found the quickest way to wear her out once the baby is here.

Saturday continued to be Trudy-focused when I morphed into the total overreacting dog owner. Dogs lick their butts. I'm well aware of this. However, Trudy was licking her business non-stop. After a couple hours of this, Husband and I are wondering wh…

In Defense of Jessica Simpson

Unless you completely abstain from watching entertainment TV or looking at mainstream news web sites, it's impossible not to know that Jessica Simpson is pregnant. Very, very pregnant. I find myself wondering if it's her due date every time I see her photo.

Please understand I'm not judging. One thing I have humbly learned is that every woman has a different pregnancy. All kinds of factors play a role. How active are you? How much of an appetite do you have? What number pregnancy is it? Do you really believe the eating for two philosophy?

Simpson has taken flack for several decisions. Her first was wearing sky high heels while sporting a prominent bump. As long as she's not falling down, who cares? Plus, I can totally relate to wanting to appear taller. Taller gives the impression of narrower. It's simple geometry. (I think. I got a C in geometry.) While her feet may hurt, if she wants to suffer for the sake of appearance, let her. I've found myself wearing high…

To know or not to know...

that was the question. The answer - because I am weak and terribly impatient - is to know.

I walked into the ultrasound room today with the conviction that I would not find out the sex of the baby. I'm not sure why, other than already having told everyone we weren't finding out.

The technician went through the standard ultrasound steps - heart, head, spine, appendages. All there. Whew. The baby's face was hidden due to positioning and hands over the face. The shyness must come from Husband's side of the family. (The best pic was of the hands looking in need of some brass knuckles. Pow pow.)

As we finished up I asked the tech if she knew what it was. Sure do, she said. I looked at Husband, who had made no secret that he wanted to find out. He looked at the floor. "Do you really want to know?" I asked. "Yeah, I really do," he said.

So I caved. Also, I sought validation since I was certain it was a boy. My acupuncturist had speculated boy after checking m…

Sophie

Sophie Day
Dec. 24, 1999 - March 15, 2012

Sheet rock remover, helpful hole digger, poolside lounger, landscaping assistant, rabbit catcher, mole digger-upper, squirrel chaser, golf course roamer, food beggar, front door greeter...the list could go on and on. She was my first dog, my favorite walking partner and my best pal.

We'll miss you more than you'll ever know, sweet girl. Thank you for being our dog.

Pregnancy Week 18 - Girl Support

There have been many enlightening pregnancy experiences since I last blogged, several of which are worthy of their own entries. However, per usual, I’m short on time, so here’s the Cliff Notes version pertaining to the chest region.(If you feel this is TMI, I understand. Don’t read it. I just don’t want to sugarcoat my blog. Women need to know the truth.)
1.There is a sports bra named The Last Resort. If you are a runner who’s well endowed pre-pregnancy, you may have to order this lovely piece of – ahem – athletic lingerie. Sixteen snaps, people. That is how many fasteners this monster has, but true to the advertised word, it eliminates bounce.
2.You will have an specific moment when you realize you need The Last Resort. Mine occurred on the treadmill at week twelve. At first running was as appealing as eating a spoonful of mayonnaise. But then I turned the second trimester corner and thought, “I can still run!”
So onto the treadmill I stepped and upped the miles per hour. “This is grea…

"Would you like a cookie with that?"

After ordering a sandwich, lemonade and chips the lady at Einstein Bros. Bagels asked if I would like a cookie. I paused. When - especially as a pregnant woman - do I want a cookie? The answer is always. However, considering my limited pants choices right now, the correct answer is no. I reluctantly shook my head, but did gaze lovingly at the cookies letting them know, it's not you, it's me. And my ever expanding ass.

Pregnancy has not brought about my finest culinary choices. Last week I stopped at the CVS at the corner of Linwood and Prospect because I needed strawberry pop tarts, stat. I barely had the car door closed before I tore open that shiny foil. No need to toast them; they're just find cold. The urgency of these cravings is shocking.

I heard a story about a pregnant woman who just craved ice and fruit. Really? Who is this woman? I would like to punch her. My cravings swing from pickles (yes, I'm a cliche) to Houston's hamburgers, onion rings to bacon, fro…

The Bin of Broken Dreams

(January 18, 2012)

Around week ten my wardrobe became a problem. Deciding what to wear to work became less of a decision based on preference and more dependent on what would actually button. My previous "big girl" pants were now fitting snugly. My expanding chest (which needed no help to begin with) was difficult to contain in my normal tops.

As I would stand in front of my closet, getting increasingly frustrated that what I wanted to wear was not a possibility, I decided the only option was to put the too tight clothes in the basement. Husband brought me a large plastic bin and left me to the task.

It was more emotional than I had anticipated. (Or maybe I'm just more emotional in general.) I felt the need to have private goodbye conversations with various pieces. My favorite going out jeans, party dresses, work pants and finally, the short skirts. The skirts were particularly hard. Since I'm knocking on forty, the skirts had limited shelf life anyway. Bu…

Define Huge

(This was written January 12)

I met with my new OB/GYN today. While I had a perfectly lovely gynecologist for the last ten years, her location is no longer convenient, especially when I may be in labor. So after asking around for referrals, I settled on Dr. L.

Dr. L is a sweet, grandpa type. Admittedly, there were some nerves about going to a male doctor. My first experience in the OB/GYN world was in high school and included a Dr. Hyman (seriously), a med student and a nurse. It was horrifying and I've made sure to have a female doc every since.

After starting the appointment with an ultrasound (175 heartbeat, woo hoo) I met with Dr. L in his office to discuss family history, health issues, etc. One of my major concerns - besides how much weight I'm going to gain - is how big this baby is going to be. The conversation went like this:

Me: I was a huge baby and heard that is hereditary. Is this true?

Dr. L: Well, I've delivered more than 5,000 babies so we may have…

Positive, baby

Well, it's been a while. But I have a good excuse. As of today, I'm officially 12 weeks so Husband and I agree it's okay to go public -- another Saab will be joining the family sometime around August 13. Yee-haw.

Being pregnant is not really an excuse to take a blogging hiatus, but it does seem to take over a large amount of brain space. Literally the first thing I think every morning since finding out is "holy s*($, I'm pregnant." Usually muttered in an effort to get to the bathroom quickly.

We are not an emotional family, so calling to tell my dad was awkward. My words, "I'm knocked up" were met by a long pause then a "Jennifer, you are not knocked up. You are with child." Um, okay. Then my sister pointed out that you're knocked up when you're not married. Okay. I still can't say I'm with child.

Another thing Husband and I agree on not saying is "we're pregnant." The reason is obvious. He will not be gaini…