15 minutes

The dude who runs the boot camp I attend in the mornings has published some uber flattering pics of me (and others). Check them out by clicking here. Please note: I am wearing black shorts NOT salmon pink sweats...Don't get it twisted.

the sound of silence

It's definitely strange to sit in a room with someone for close to 8 hours at a time and exchange fewer than 12 words. We've discussed the wind, the remote and holding the baby. Woo hoo!

almost there

Being almost 36 weeks pregnant, I am realizing that I am almost done with this gestating thing. Weird. It doesn't seem like that much time has passed. And then I look down at my burgeoning belly, and I feel as though I'm at least 60 weeks pregnant. I don't feel bad per se, just uncomfortable. It's difficult to sleep as I must get up every 40 minutes to empty my bladder and I can only sleep on my left side otherwise my right arm falls asleep and becomes a dead piece of meat that dangles from my shoulder. I have that distinctive pregnant lady waddle, try as I might to walk like a normal person. None of my shirts will cover that bottom part of my belly...maternity or not, so I'm constantly walking around hiking up my pants. By the end of the day, my feet (when I can see them) slightly resemble marshmallow puffs stuck to the ends of my legs. I haven't seen my crotch in awhile. Putting lotion on my calves and feet has become a near impossible feat. And I often feel as though I have a little Hayden-hand hanging out of my cervix.

wish list

• Pathology report to come back clean
• Mitchell home by Christmas Eve
• Life to go back to normal

accosted

Today at the girls' school, some random boy jumps in front of me, rubs my belly (I hate that word), and then proceeds to embrace me for several seconds. Fully embrace. Strange, little boy cheek to baby bump. Fingers splayed against my sides, gently rubbing to and fro. He finally finishes, but before he pulls away, he gazes up at me from my mid-section. "You finished?" He gives me a final squeeze and skips away. How weird is that? He's lucky that he had the benefit of surprise, otherwise I would have had my knee in his little chest, forcing him away.

stuff that freaked me out today

• Number of women I saw out and about that had facial hair...Not just a few random wiry sprouts either. I'm talking, full-blown, shave-every-day-or-get-5-o'clock-shadow BEARDS.
• Ex-gang member dude that drew my blood for my glucose test...He had 520 tattooed on more than one finger and lots of Old English writing scrawled on his neck. I'll admit though, he did a good job.
• Getting on the scale at the OB/GYN's after my cruise...whatever, skinny people.
• My "new" boss having some else re-do my work for no good reason, but not telling me there is/was a problem.
• Sales clerk at the motherhood store where I had to go to buy some preggers pants...Why do strangers always give me uncomfortably intimate details?
• Mother of extra-loud toddler at Sonora Lab place that had shaved off her eyebrows and then sharpie-ed some back on with a seriously unsteady hand.
• Picking a few items up at the "yucky Fry's"...Why does it smell like weird, old meat and who are all those people meandering aimlessly around the entrance?

rant

After I returned home from picking up the girls, my neighbor called ... the church-y one. Of course she needed a favor. Of course she wanted me to hop BACK in my car and run and get her kids from school then keep them til she got home. This isn't the surprising/frustrating part. Wait for it. Here it comes.... Her husband was driving home in the car ahead of mine as I headed home. We pulled into our driveways almost simultaneously. Unloading our belongings in sync, mine being girls and school paraphernalia. His being bags or something. We exchanged pleasantries, and I went inside. Two minutes later his wife is calling me to pick up and keep their kids. WTF? How did I become #1 on the Who-to-Call-When-I-Can't-Pick-Up-My-Kids List? Ahead of the father of said children. I was more than happy to be able to inform her that her husband was currently at home. Available to pick up their kids and all she needed to do was give him a ring.

butt problems

Last April, I mysteriously injured my coccyx while riding on one of the rickety-ass rides featured at the Pima County Fair. Since then, I have experienced varying degrees of butt pain while sitting. Being preggo has only exacerbated the problem which has led me to finally complain to my ob/gyn about the situation. She in turn referred me to a physical therapist. WEIRD. First of all, the questionaire she sent me contained entirely too many questions about urine seepage and alleged difficulties with pooping. Then there was the rather disturbing initial phone conversation which involved the words "rectal" and "manipulation". Aside from having to answer uncomfortable questions about the number of times per week I am or am not pooping and whether or not I pee myself when I cough or sneeze, the whole thing went off fairly well. Thankfully I survived my first session sans any invasive internal probing.

guess who's coming to dinner...in february

I'll cut to the chase and just type it. I'm pregnant. I can already hear the gasps in both surprise and ill-concealed disgust. I'm sure people have questions. Here are some answers.

Inquiring Minds: This pregnancy... was it planned or a surprise? Me: Freakishly enough it was planned. I even willingly made the appointment to have my iud removed. Even better? I tracked my periods and recorded my basal temp for 4 months! How's that for attention span? IM: Aren't 2 enough!?!? Me: Apparently not. IM: Okay. Forget about overpopulating the Earth, what about your age? Aren't you close to 50 already? Me: I'll have you know I'm just as close to 20 as I am to 50. Okay. Maybe that's not true since I'm on the downhill side of 35. But still, celebrities have babies at their advanced ages every day (okay, so not the Spears but didn't Halle Berry have a baby recently?). IM: What are you thinking? You were completely in the clear. Both in school, no diapers, everybody wipes their own ass. WTF?!? Me: I'd been getting so much undisturbed sleep since moving to Tucson, I figured I needed to inject some excitment into our lives. IM: Can you afford this? Me: Theoretically, no. Realistically, sure. It'll be fabulous. And no MJ, we won't have to sell the house or borrow cashola from you. IM: Is this Mitchell's last ditch effort for a boy? Me: Perhaps. As usual, he hasn't been super-specific about the brand of baby he'd like. He just seems happy that I agreed to a third. IM: Not that you don't deserve whatever comes your way since you got yourself into this, but how're you feeling? Me: Awesome! Similar to T's first trimester, I'm desperately ill. In a typical day, I'll puke 8 to 12 times. I have a headache most days and want to sleep constantly. The girls, of course, have other plans... IM: Hey yeah, what about the girls? How do they feel about this? Me: They are ridiculously excited. They're constantly trying to feed me and bring me drinks and kissing my stomach. DeeDee's especially thrilled to take a turn as a big sister. T's planning to babysit.

hold up

Don't you hate it sometimes when you get what you want, and then you're like, Oh wait, did I really want that?

yikes

Mitchell's face looks a LOT like this guy's today (minus the gauged ears and whiteness and non-receding hairline). He can barely open his mouth. When I asked him how he felt, he said, "Fine" through clenched teeth. When I asked him if he wanted some prescription grade ibuprofen, he refused (duh, why'd I even ask?). When I asked him if he had a dental appointment, he just looked at me with that dull, dead-eyed shark look he gets when I ask him a question he's not ever going to answer.

Anyone wanna take bets on how long it takes him to get to a dentist? I'm counting on at least a week, probably more like 2.