Week 28: Divine Cream

Blobby Layne and I have had a relatively quiet week which included puttering around the house, going to work and getting the garden ready for the season.  I wear giant gardening gloves and take precautions when rooting around in the dirt but it has been gratifying to see my perennials come back this Spring.

Without a doubt our favorite activity has been eating ice cream every day.  I have been lactose intolerant most of my adult life and fairly crippled by the thought of a grilled cheese sandwich, but now I don't just tolerate dairy treats, I downright crave them. Instead of stomach pain I now get Blobby jumping up and down on my bladder with joy.

In even better news I went to the doctor this week, and I was congratulated as I have gained only 15 pounds, and judging by the way my clothes still fit everywhere else, its all in my belly. I have had no trouble getting around and am thinking about skipping the flower gardening this season and going to get a dairy cow.  

Week 27: Sorry, no, I'm just a fattie.

Blobby Layne and I are at the 6 month mark!

 

The kiddo and I went shopping this afternoon and there are a bunch of really cute spring dresses on the racks. As I can't properly see myself until we take the picture for the post each Sunday, I thought it would be a great idea to try on something stretchy.  I managed to get one dress on and realized, really for the first time, just HOW BIG I AM. In perfect comedic timing I got punched from the inside, as if to punctuate the joke of me getting into anything that needs to be zipped up. Ba-dum-pah.

I don't mind getting pummeled from the inside. I do, however, have a dislike of getting touched and prodded from the outside.  Now that there is little denying that I am pregnant people take my protruding middle as an invitation to touch me.  Tattooed and pregnant? Doubly so... if you can't rub my Buddha-belly, why not grab me by the arm and make a joke about me having a tattooed baby? It would be so clever of you.

If my mama taught me one thing, it was this: Keep Your Comments To Yourself.  And your mitts.

Your comments, though are always welcome here. Especially if they contain good comebacks.

Week 26: Me and My Shadow

This week ClayWanda and I:

• Went to Richmond to see the Picasso exhibit at the VMFA, 
• We ate delicious Indian food, 
• Watched the Banksy documentary about street art Exit Through the Gift shop, 
• Had our eyes examined and and an old filling replaced, 
• Made clam chowder, and
• Got a sweet new Motorhead hoodie (Annie sized) from ClayWanda's Daddy who went to NC for the show this weekend. It zips all the way over the belly!

I say we, even though I am capable of doing all of these things all by myself, but ClayWanda  provides a lot of support and reminds me frequently that I am in good company, mostly by punching me in the spine at regular intervals. I am Not Alone.

25 weeks: Glamorous Pregnancy

Here I am at 25 weeks!

It was a very busy weekend for me and Blobby Layne, what with putting together the crib and then winning an Oscar. 

Thank goodness my stylist chose the tiny clutch purse, it was just big enough to hold a roll of TUMS and some saltines wrapped in a tissue.

Week 24: The baby is eating my brain.

Look at that face. I look happy as though I had good sense.

I have entered that stage of the pregnancy that some people call, 'pregnancy brain'.  I call this the 'can't remember sh*t' phase.

For example,  I look down at my own ankles a few times a day and am cruelly reminded that they no longer resemble the skinny ankles I once knew.  

Rob thoughtfully brought up the word 'cankles'- as in my calves and my ankles  have morphed into one. He was promptly rewarded with what I call the 'eat sh*t face'.

Week 23: What would Blobby do for a Klondike bar?

Welcome to week 23!

This past Thursday I got a punching. There I was, lounging in bed with a book and a Klondike bar (YES, an ice cream bar in bed- cut me some slack, I am pregnant,) and feeling pretty darn excited about it.

Not as excited as Blobby Layne apparently, who proceeded to pummel me.  This hasn't happened since, but I have run out of Klondike bars and only managed to get to the store yesterday.

Week 22: Real Baby VS. Food Baby

Here I am at five months preggo comparing my baby belly with Blobby Layne's Uncle Uriah- Clearly the real baby wins over the man-belly made of beer and eats.

This also clearly illustrates that by the time this whole baby business culminates in June, I am going to be a BEAST.