TGIF people. Go see Jen for a much more amusing and well written post than mine.
If you are or have ever been preggo, read this hilarious week by week breakdown by Amlah. I read it when I was pregnant last time and look forward to re-reading it each week.
On Wednesday I looked in the mug I left on my desk at work with tea in it and there was MOLD growing in it. I took it to the sink to rinse it out and instead had to run to the bathroom to puke. Isn’t pregnancy fun? (Dear baby, I wasn’t going to drink the moldy tea, I swear. No need for the high alert.)
Someone tell me why the Season Finale of Grey’s Anatomy has to be so melodramatic and involve the cast in danger of death every single year? And why do I keep watching? I don’t know. I have a hard time of letting go of shows I’ve watched since the beginning, even when they aren’t as good anymore.
Last night Max very emphatically told M he was all done with dinner. 20 minutes later I was sitting at the table eating and he wanted to sit in my lap and proceeded to eat most of my dinner as well. Baby mooch! He is a total bottomless pit lately. We have a huge breakfast around 7am, he usually eats 2 eggs scrambled with vegetables, a banana, and a piece of gluten-free toast with almond butter. He tells me he is done and less than an hour later he is hungry again. I used to feed him yogurt or cheese then, but since we’ve been off dairy it’s a struggle to figure out what else to give him.
Max has mastered his own version of the sign for “help.” It looks a bit like an old timey “victory” hand clasp shake. This is very cute except most of the time I am unsure what he is trying to accomplish so it’s difficult to actually help. Sometimes I think it’s more of a sign for, “Mommy you do it.”
I’m at that awkward stage of pregnancy where I look maybe pregnant, maybe just starting to get a bit fat. I teach classes at work on weight management and I sometimes wonder if my patients think I really should start taking my own advice. And yet it feels weird to announce my pregnancy during class– usually as a practitioner you want to keep the focus on the patients, not on you. Awkward.
One of my top two all-time most popular posts, is this one about how out of control my boobs were in my last pregnancy. (Clearly, lots of pervs being disappointed when they find my blog rambling about pregnancy instead of porn). So strange that thus far, none of that has happened to me this time. Maybe it’s because I’m still nursing but I’m exactly the same size as I was before I got pregnant, which was pretty close to my pre-Max size (I think. I have needed new bras for awhile but stubbornly refuse to spend a bunch of money when I know my size will change again any second).